I'm not dead yet. I just have my plane tomorrow. So I post this and then I can sleep peacefully...
No, I can't. Eh...
Anyway, enjoy the chapter.
"I can't believe my baby sister is coming to Beacon with me! This is the best day ever!".
The boy shot an irritated but quick glare at the two girls who were making such a fuss. They didn't seem to get the message, as they continued to argue and chit-chat like nothing had happened. Probably they simply hadn't seen him... not yet, at least. He had the inkling their reaction would be pretty evident once they caught sight of him. Not like that would happen anything soon, though. Even in his current predicament and outfit, he was going completely unnoticed, a skill he had honed over years of use.
"Please, stop", wheezed out the smaller girl, who was being smothered by the older one, apparently her sister, in a tight hug.
"But I'm so proud of you!", squealed the blonde girl, basically shaking in excitement.
"Really, sis, it was nothing", replied the crimsonette, whatever their subject was. The boy raised a single eyebrow at seeing her silver eyes. 'Uncommon colour', he noted. 'Maybe a family trait of some ancient lineage? That would mean she's probably strong... maybe I should observe her and see if she's good enough to be on my team'.
"What do you mean? It was incredible!", countered the older girl, apparently of the loud type. He hated those with all his heart: if you really needed to grate on his nerves, at least do it silently, was his philosophy. "Everyone at Beacon's gonna think you're the bee's knees".
That perked his attention. 'So she's good, eh? But yet again it could just be sibling's exaggeration. Still, it's worth a closer look'. The smaller girl was shrinking. "I don't wanna be the bee's knees, okay? I don't wanna be any kind of knees! I just want to be a normal girl, with normal knees".
The boy raised an eyebrow again. 'You're on an airship toward one of the most prestigious schools for Huntsmen in the world, and you're obviously younger than most here, and now you ask for normality?'. He restrained a snort. 'Too late to turn back now'.
"What's with you, aren't you excited?", asked the blonde. 'And you're a bit too excited', remarked the boy in his head.
"Of course I'm excited, I just...", confirmed the other girl before sighing. "I got moved ahead of two years. I don't want people to think I'm special or anything...".
The taller girl walked up to her and passed an arm around her shoulder. "But you are special", she argued, making the boy frown. He would really need to look more into that short redhead. He couldn't completely tell given the little amount of time he had been observing them, but the blonde looked more of the cocky type, so for her to admit someone else's was special without adding `almost like me` was already something. He'd seen many arrogant assholes thinking so high of themselves, but the blonde wasn't completely like that. More like... naive cockiness, than wicked arrogance. He would know: he had encountered both.
"The robbery was led by the notorious criminal Roman Torchwick, who continues to evade the police. If you have any informations on his whereabouts, please contact the Vale Police Department. Back to you Lisa". The boy tilted his head sideways, slightly interested in the robbery, but shrugged it off. It wasn't important. Also, it had already happened and ended.
The other reporter, Lisa Lavender, was talking about the White Fang when the screen turned off, allowing a hologram to appear in its place. The hologram was a blonde woman with green eyes and transparent glasses, dressed in a white blouse, black pencil skirt and black stockings. "Hello and welcome to Beacon", said the woman.
"Who's that?", asked the blonde girl, and the boy rolled his eyes. Even he knew, and he hadn't even known Torchwick was a criminal until a few weeks before. Really, she wanted to be a Huntress, and she didn't know who were the big ones in the field?
"My name is Glynda Goodwitch".
"Oh". The boy glanced at the blonde. Was she really serious?
"You are among the privileged few who received the honour of being selected to attend this prestigious academy. Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it's our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world".
'It would've been a very inspiring welcoming speech, Goodwitch', mentally snorted the boy, already seeing the mistake in her words. 'It's such a pity it's all false. You said we have demonstrated our courage... wrong. We have demonstrated we either are already halfway strong enough to be Huntsmen on our own, or we have powerful allies that granted us access to the school. Courage and will to improved values nothing in this school. Only strength seems to matter. Your speech would've been interesting... hadn't it all been so fake'.
All around him, though, the other students didn't seem to share his scepticism, expressions of wonder painting on their faces. They all rushed to the windows as soon as the hologram disappeared, but he stayed where he was. There was no need to. He already knew how Vale looked like and he knew he would be seeing Beacon very soon.
With the corner of his left eye he noticed the blonde girl walking toward him. He suppressed a sigh. Eventually, someone was bound to notice him. He had just been hoping not to get the loud type. Behind the taller girl there was the redhead, trailing behind in the way younger siblings do when the older ones are going somewhere and they don't know what they're supposed to do. The blonde stopped right in front of him, hands on her hips and chest thrust out.
"Hey there, Hot Stuff", she greeted him with a flirty smile. He didn't even need to put too much coldness or fire in his words to wipe off that smile.
"Fuck off".
The girl's eyes widened for a second before she closed them, taking what sounded like a calming breath. When she opened them again, though, they were red and burning with rage. The girl behind her had been briefly frozen by his rudeness, but then began pulling at the blonde's jacket, trying to stop her from doing something she might regret.
"Hey, I was just trying to be nice, what's your problem?", grumbled the taller girl. He looked up at her from his seated position against the darkest wall of the airship.
"You walked up to me and started to flirt with me", he replied bluntly. "Everything about me, from my expression to my clothes to where I am seated screams `leave me alone`, and you chose to ignore all of that just because I looked interesting enough to inquire more", he continued, glaring at her and noting how her eyes were turning back to lilac. "Now, while in some cases direct confrontation is the best method of observation, you should never try to approach an unknown danger without having first gathered some data about it unless you are in a very desperate situation. Being on a very safe airship doesn't sound to me like a very desperate situation, so I will have to repeat myself: fuck off".
The girl gritted her teeth. "Listen, I can get you're all broody and moody, but we're here to become the new generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses", she said, stating the obvious. "But if you can't even be, if not nice or kind, at least polite to someone you don't even know, how do you think you will become a good Huntsman?".
"You don't need to be fucking sweet to be a Huntsman", he growled with irritation. "One of the best Huntsman I've ever seen is a fucking drunkard whose definition of politeness is when he doesn't spit on your face as soon as you start spewing bullshit about what he can and can't do".
The shorter girl frowned at his language, but also tilted her head sideways. "What's his name?".
"Qrow Branwen", he muttered angrily. "Now, if you may, do me a favour and go annoy someone else".
"You met Uncle Qrow?", asked the redhead, apparently ignoring his rather polite suggestion.
His eyebrow broke the record for highest point on his forehead ever reached. "You're his nieces. You?", he deadpanned.
The taller girl's eyes turned red again. "Yes, got a problem with that?", she growled.
"I would've expected less idiotic anger and more pointless mockery from the old crow's nieces", he retorted coldly. "Either you're extremely Qrow-resistant, or he tries to be more... civil around his nieces".
"Probably both", nervously laughed the crimsonette, trying to hold back the blonde. "Aaaanyway, I'm Ruby! And this is my older sister Yang".
The boy's eyebrow wasn't lowered. "Ater Mors", he replied curtly.
Ruby smiled, but a voice nearby piped up unexpectedly. "Doesn't that mean, in one of the ancient languages, `Dark Death`?". They turned to look at the speaker, a black-haired girl with amber eyes and cat ears disguised as a bow with the help of a ribbon. She was holding a book in her hands and her eyes were fixed on the page, unmoving, sign she wasn't really readying it. "Kinda strange name to give to a child, don't you think?", the Faunus continued.
The boy's eyes narrowed at her. "If you don't have anything interesting to say, shut your trap", he spat at her. "My name is my name. I've met stranger names".
The blonde girl, Yang, seemed to still be pissed, though. "Hey, who do you think you are, insulting us and our uncle and then getting angry because someone commented on your name?", she snapped at him, and his eyes returned to hers, narrowed.
"Ater Mors. That's what and who I am", he retorted. "And now, since we've just landed, I think everyone should really move and get out of this thing".
Without waiting for anyone to reply, he got up and walked out of his dark corner. After he left, the shadows seemed to grow lighter, as if his mere presence had been enough to darken the room. Walking out in the sunlight also gave Yang and Ruby the chance to better see his outfit, and Yang had to admit he was right when he said his very clothes screamed `don't mess with me`.
He wore black form-fitting trousers paired with black leather boots, a black form-fitting tank top with patterns of crystal of different colours on it, and fingerless black leather gloves. Around his arms and legs, and criss-crossing his torso, there were several dark grey chains that ended in different weapons. Two of them, the ones on the arms, ended with kunai-like blades that were attached to the forearm, while the two wrapped around his legs ended with vicious hooks that could get a hold of flesh or clothes easily. Of the ones on his torso two were spiked chains, and the other ended in flail's heads. His skin was quite pale, almost unhealthily so, and his blond hair looked as if they'd seen better days. But his eyes were of the same colour and coldness of the depth of the ocean.
He looked like a black and dark stain on Beacon's brightness. The towers and large buildings of the school gave off a sense of wonder, but the boy's presence was enough to unnerve many of the students, who found themselves avoiding him as he stopped to take in the grand sight of Beacon Academy.
'Beacon Academy. Prestige: highest. Headmaster: Medeis Ozpin. Status: open, understaffed. Staff: Glynda Goodwitch, Peter Port, Bartholomew Oobleck, Katherine Peach. Annual exam success rate: high. Graduation rate: moderate', he thought calculatingly. 'Chance of successful entrance: nearly inexistent. Chance of my transcripts being revealed: very low. Yes, Beacon might just do the do'.
He glanced around and sighed explosively when he noticed all the students had gone their way and left him alone with his thoughts. He really hated the stares he got from the majority of people, be it for his clothes, his choice of weapon or his scars.
Because... well, he had scars.
They weren't a real deal nor they were truly something scary. They were just there. He had one on his right cheek and a vertical one starting just beside his left brow and going down on his neck. A few scars on his arms were visible as well, and truly the only noteworthy one was the one on his exposed right clavicle, a large scar that then disappeared in the back of his collar, but he knew it went all the way down his right hip. It was jagged and uneven, but over everything else it was a mark of shame for him. It was what he had gotten when he had thought he could trust the other inmates because of the common enemy they had shared.
What a naive fool he had been.
He had trusted that girl only because she had looked nice and helpful the first time he had seen her. He was in the dirt after having tried to stand up to the Doctor, while she was unharmed and lowering her head in submission. In her eyes, he had seen a fire that wasn't obedient like the rest of her body. It was the same fire that, a few days later, had tried to burn down the Doctor's lab. Foolish and naive as he had been, he had actually tried to help her, thinking she had been trying to free the prisoners, but the truth had been as ugly as it had been obvious, and he should've really seen that coming.
She had simply waited to have the complicity of a few inmates before betraying them all, turning them in to the Doctor, who had made sure to teach them all why rebelling was such a bad idea. But that hadn't been the worst of the whole ordeal. The worst had been later, when he had asked her why she had done it. And he had really regretted getting the answer.
"Oh, no hard feelings C49, I didn't do it because I hate you", she said easily, smiling at him.
"Then why have you done it, F11?", he asked, confused. "We could've done it, or at least tried to. Why did you have to turn against us?".
She sighed deeply and ruffled his hair. "C49, you should really stop being so childish", she scolded him with a brief disappointed frown. "You should already know the answer".
"But I don't!", he retorted.
"It's simple, really", she smiled easily. "I simply sided with the winning faction. It's the only way you survive in this world".
He shook his head to clear it of those thoughts. Yes, it was true, survival was only through power. Be it strength, alliances or diplomacy, the most powerful was always the one to survive. F11 had been right, but that didn't mean he agreed with everything she had said or done. Instead of allying with people he despised just for survival, he had made sure to be always on the winning side.
By creating his own faction. Members: one, Ater Mors.
Got nothing to say. Just wish me luck and hope my plane won't crash.
Until next time,
Khor Evik Vlakhavlakh