From a window up high, in a tower of the prestigious academy that trained future hunters and huntresses, stood a man with gray hair that supported his own weight with a cane. He stared at the vast expanse of forests that surrounded Beacon in every direction, more specifically, the tenants of this fine academy as they carried about their average day. Despite the students being the best and brightest that Vytal had to offer, they were essentially teens. Barely adults coming to terms of who they are, all the while their bodies still plagued with the remnants of the hormones left from puberty. He could hear, all the way from his office, students yelling insults with enough venom to poison a deathstalker and gun shots being fired in the background. Being the Headmaster, he had grown accustom to these sounds, this chaos; he could even tell which shots were from training, and which shots were from a heated argument gone too far. Though he never showed his true feelings, at times he really hated this job.
By the time he was able to shape their young minds into that of a selfless warrior, they graduated and would leave his life forever. Only to be replaced by a new group of teens, even more reckless and self-entitled than the last. Sure, there were exceptions to the rule, there have been exceptions to every rule every since rules were invented by man. He has seen these exceptions stand tall and proud above the rest; he has also seen exceptions fall corrupt to the chaos that found itself lurking in these walls. Each group of new students brought their strengths and their weaknesses to this academy, that's why he started requiring students to submit essays with their battle transcripts. So he could better read what each individual was like before he allowed them to enter through the gates of Beacon. His own personal way to shift through the crazy, of course it never worked.
That last thought brought him to the events that were supposed to unfold today. He was to review all the potential applicants who wished to attend his academy. This was always a long day. Too long if you ask him, but the sound of coffee brewing keeps his mind focused on the task he'll undertake, that is of course after Glynda does her initial review of the applicants. He sits down behind the mahogany desks, that he cleared off for this day. While Glynda had a scrupulous eye for potential, he simply asks her to search for the clearly unqualified applicants and deal with those files.
This was truly the most peaceful day of the school year, despite the explosions and spells being cast outside his window. The fourth year students have already been sent off to start, and in some grim cases end, their career as hunters and huntresses. That only left three years of students fighting and arguing in the halls. Which all due respects was still chaos, but three-fourths of the chaos, which was peace in his eyes. But he knew, any minute now Glynda would walk in and dump an enormous pile of folders, which contained lethal, hormone-fueled balls of energy transcribed as stats.
As if Glynda knew that he was thinking of the work he rather not do, she opened the door carrying an armful of folders. She didn't bother close the door behind as approached the desk that hid the gray-haired man and unceremoniously dumped the folders.
"Ah, Ms. Goodwitch. I am glad to see you are finished with your screening," he lied through a straight face that won much lien gambling in his younger years. "Are these the only applicants? Slim pickings this year, should my job easier."
"Sorry to disappoint Professor Ozpin, but this only the first wave of ten," Glynda stated in the flat tone Ozpin have come accustom to.
"Ahh, I see..." Ozpin stated, a slight bit of melancholy nearly slipping through his facade. "Well, could you do me a favor before you grab the next stack? Could you pour me a cup of coffee? It should be done by now."
Glynda merely nodded as she walked over to the coffee maker to pour Ozpin a cup. She walked back over to the desk and placed the hot cup of coffee, proudly displaying the emblem that Beacon plastered on everything they could think of selling, though they never did. Looking up to see Ozpin still staring out the window, she was accustom to this behavior, he tended to zone out if anything involved new students was put on his plate. No harm, no foul she assumed. "I'll go grab the rest of the folders and leave you to your work."
Ozpin merely nodded as Gylnda turned around and proceeded to exit the office. Once, he was sure she left, he turned his chair around and reached for his coffee. The cup burning his hand due to its contents, he ignored the pain as he took a big gulp of the scalding beverage. After years of this routine, his throat had become accustom to this treatment; for it was years of coffee that kept him running, he should have collapsed long ago but caffeine was essentially his blood by now. 'Let's get started,' he though to himself as he reached for the folder on top of the heap that lay in front of him. 'The sooner I start, the sooner I finish. Hmmm, Yang Xiao Long. Where have I heard that name before? I'm sure the folder will tell.'
A/N
For this series, I only have eight chapters planned. If anybody wants their OC in their to be accepted, but mostly denied, into Beacon, feel free to send in a name, description of OC (appearance and personality) and see if I can work my magic.
