"As I stand still, everything moves around me." The middle-aged man laughed, patting Marcelle's head. "That's what the old geezer told me when I was young, Marcelle." He ruffled the little girl's hair, sitting in his chair as she stood next to him. "It's a large burden… to live longer than everyone around you." He added. This girl at his side had been born 10 years ago, and yet she still looked as though she was maybe 3 or 4. That was when her family knew that she was under the same "curse" that had plagued them for many generations. Every 5th generation, there was one child born to their lineage that aged extremely slowly. They normally remained around middle-aged or younger in appearance well into their 100th year. This was always a problem, though, since their lack of aging had to be well hidden. The last had been this man's grandfather, who died not long before Marcelle was born.

"So… what does it mean?" she asked, her mind developing with her age but her body remaining younger. "Is that… why I don't go to school?" she asked, her parents both standing at the door as she talked to her grandfather.

"Yes… no one can know you age slower than others…" he handed her a cookie, the girl taking it and nibbling on it. "And no one can know how old you really are, alright?" he added, the girl nodding her head, making a face. "It will be a challenge." He added. "So instead of school. You will receive training at home. Until your body turns at least 14, you need to remain at home… it will be hard to defend yourself otherwise." He added.

"That's a long time, isn't it…?" she asked. "My actual age is about three times my body's age…" she looked at her hands, making a face. "So I won't be that age for about 30 years, right?" she sighed. "You'd better teach me all your fighting skills… and Granny needs to start teaching me how to make weapons." She added. "I don't wanna be bored if I gotta stay at home." The old man laughed, ruffling her hair.

"Alright, little one." He nodded his head. "Then teach you we shall."

Marcelle sat on a boulder in the forest, staring at the falling leaves. They were the colors of fall, bright hues of yellow, orange, and even some red too. It had been so long since then… 35 years ago today, in fact. She was now physically around 15, and everything that had gone down the year before was too much for her to deal with, so she'd been going out on her own for months now just to clear her head… to hunt Grimm like she'd been training to do and making extra money, seeking solace in the destruction of Grimm. She glanced down at her wrist which was wrapped up from an injury she'd incurred a few days before fighting Grimm. There was a lapse in her aura and the attack connected, causing her the injury. She had been scolding herself about it, but this was no time for that. She had heard about another large grimm in the area, so she was out here to hunt it down. The town had paid her to end its rampage.

The forest floor rumbled, The celadon haired girl looking up from her seat, seeing the treetops below shaking and the birds flying up and away from the movement. Marcelle stood up, grabbing her staff and going to stand at the edge of the cliff. She took a breath, rolling her staff over her wrist, waiting until the proper moment. She gripped the staff, jumping down off the edge and slamming her staff into the grimm beneath her. But as soon as she made contact, she felt herself get thrown back. She landed quite far away, looking up with wide eyes to see a Beringel. "What the hell, they never mentioned it was one of these…" she grumbled, jumping out of the way before opening the staff up, the top turning into a spear head. "It's huge, too…" Marcelle continued to fight off the creature, her wrist preventing her from delivering a strong enough blow to end it quickly. She jumped out of the Beringel's fist coming down on her, ending up in a clearing. She heard the click of guns, but instead of turning to them, she just put up her staff and stood her ground against the Beringel as it barreled towards her. She could hear a command, and responses were all military-esque. "Don't get in the way!" she stated, jumping up above the Grimm as it aimed its attack at the gun-wielding soldiers, opening up the staff one more stage and firing into its mask with dust before slamming the sharp end of her spear straight into the top of its head, gritting her teeth against the pain in her wrist. The grimm finally went down, Marcelle landing on the ground and taking a knee, exhausted.

"That was impressive." She glanced over her shoulder, seeing a girl around her physical age and someone her grandfather had mentioned and showed her pictures of before. His name was Ironwood. He worked for the Atlas Military. She nodded her head, standing up and bowing to him a little.

"Thank you, sir." She replied. "But this is just what I've been trained to do." She added. He nodded, recognizing the emblem on her jacket, which was why he'd motioned for his soldiers to not shoot after she'd told them to not get in the way. She was one of the Lune Family, and they were not only a huge name in Atlas, but all over the world. Their weapons were first rate and all hand crafted to suit the wielder.

"Are you… hurt?" The white-haired girl at Ironwood's side asked, noting her wrist as she tried to cover it up with her sleeve. Ironwood noticed it too.

"We should get you somewhere to treat that." He stated, one of his soldiers coming over and preparing to escort her when she glared, causing him to flinch.

"I don't need treatment." She stated. "I'm sorry, but I need to be on my way…" she turned to leave, nearly collapsing as she did so, the soldier catching her. She blacked out, Ironwood instructing his soldier to carry her to their ship.

"It's a good thing that we were already going to head to Beacon." He stated under his breath, sighing. The Lune family didn't trust military much. They always refused offers to make weapons for the military, they kept hidden, as far off the radar as they could. But the Headmasters had a VERY different relation to this family. Most especially Beacon's headmaster. Ozpin was a good friend of the Lune family. Ironwood remembered that once Ozpin had called in a favor to one of the Lune's for a mission, so hopefully this girl wasn't as wary of him as she seemed to be of the soldiers. They departed for Beacon, Ironwood wondering why she was out by herself. She didn't look any older than 15, could she have been living alone?

"Sir?"

"Yes, Winter?" he asked, knowing the Schnee girl was wondering why they suddenly had another passenger.

"Are we taking her to Beacon for treatment…?"

"Yes, we are." He stated. "But also because her family taught her to be wary of the military… so she's not going to trust us as any other citizen might. But she does trust the headmaster of Beacon academy, or at least slightly more than she would trust us."

"… Understood." She nodded.

Marcelle felt her head throb, the sensation waking her up and making her open her eyes. She saw a blonde woman scolding Ironwood with what looked like a riding crop, a blackette man with a tattered red cape, and sitting next to where she lay was a silver haired man carrying a cup of coffee. "Good morning, Miss Lune." The silver haired man stated, the other three turning to her.

"Where…?" she looked around, not recognizing her surroundings.

"My apologies for the strange circumstances… but you're at Beacon Academy in Vale." He told her, offering her a cup of water, which she took and drank from carefully. "Your Grandmother has been informed already, so you don't have to worry about contacting her." He added, the girl nodding her head.

"You must be Professor Ozpin… Grandfather talked about you…" she took a breath, calming herself down. "Beacon, huh…?" she glanced around again, taking in the surroundings. She lifted her hand, feeling it throb again. Her wrist was rewrapped more thoroughly, but she knew it felt better than it had. "Is Umbra Falsa locked up until I get better?" she asked him.

"No. Just until your wrist is no longer hurting you." He replied as she put her cup of water down. "You named it well. Your grandfather would have been proud, Miss Lune." He added, even though it hadn't been publicized. She assumed her grandmother had told him.

"Thank you." She was calmer now. He stood, ushering the others out of the infirmary and letting her rest by herself. She laid back down, soon dozing off.

((Season Six RWBY hype.
I needed that information about Oz, and now I have it. So. Much. Angst.

Anyway, hope you like this intro chapter. More coming after I get the scenarios worked out.

-Winter Cheshire))