The noise lacked any significant volume but, even hidden, Blake's sensitive ears heard it enough to rouse her from slumber. It helped that she was a bit of a light sleeper; a byproduct of her times with the White Fang before and after it changed. Sleep when you can but be ready to head out for the next rally or assignment at a moment's notice.
"You can leave it right here, I'll take care of it," came whispered assurances.
It was difficult to get out of a perfectly soft and warm bed though. Extended boycotts and protests would have the determined members resting on the streets and Blake, of course, was such a member at the time. The actual bases and sanctuaries that they would establish for themselves were better but not by much as a good number of them had been repurposed at the spur of the moment. They tended to be overcrowded with hard mattresses and ratty sheets needing to be shared.
And although she had to share the room with her three teammates, Blake's first impressions of their dorm were positive as it was clear that it was meant to hold four people. Other than the same number of beds that lined one end of the room, there were four desks spread out on the other that included their own shelves that hung above them on the wall. With a bookcase planted under the tall window, Blake would have plenty of spots to store her collection of novels along with their textbooks. Beacon was a combat school but it was still a school.
Fighting against the grogginess, Blake sat up in her bed and wiped the sleep from her eyes. A look to the entrance of their dorm revealed it to be ajar and a pile of suitcases and other luggage were stacked next to it.
Stepping inside, Yang had a suitcase in each hand that bulged with the amount of miscellaneous items that were stuffed in them. The blonde seemed unaffected by their potential weight with how easily she added them to the pile without a single sign of strain. She was about to walk back for more until she noticed that Blake was up.
"Mornin', Blake!" Yang greeted with a wave and a friendly smile.
"Morning, Yang." Her voice was a bit raspy and it didn't seem she was quite awake yet with how she lifted a hand to hide a yawn. "What are you doing?"
"Getting our things. They just dropped them off a minute ago."
Blake should've figured as much considering the sight. The giant airship that had brought them in had carried more than just students. While Beacon was willing to provide them boarding and other facilities, clothing and other personal effects had to be brought in by the students which were tagged and stored in the cargo hold. When they had been given their keys and dorm assignments yesterday, they were assured that their luggage would arrive on time before classes would start.
The faunus took a look at the clock to find that it was five minutes past six. Well, they were getting their stuff in the promised time but Blake would've preferred a day to get properly settled in; classes were supposed to start today. Not that anyone had felt like voicing objections at the time as the excitement of their initiation had caught up to them and left them wanting nothing more than to collapse into their bunks once they got them.
The early hour did little to dampen Yang's enthusiasm, the girl humming some upbeat tune that Blake didn't recognize as she went to retrieve whatever of their baggage was left. When she slid out of bed, Blake saw that Ruby and Weiss were still sleeping. At the foot of the heiress's bed were neatly-stacked white cases.
Ah, that's right. Not all of them had to wait as Weiss had contacted her personal bellhop to transport her luggage to their room.
"Would you like some help, Yang?"
Yang had already disappeared back into the hall but she still heard Blake. "Eh, if you want. There's not really that much-" There came a yelp and a thud.
"Yang?" The sounds had Blake quickening her pace to reach the open door. The sight that greeted her was the blonde bent over to examine the tag of a black duffle bag that she held the straps of but was making no move to lift it. Blake didn't need to see her name on the tag to know that it was hers.
"What do you have in here?" Yang asked. "Bricks?"
Blake grinned with amusement. "Books."
Her partner gave her a cursory glance before her bare foot nudged the bag which was followed by an experimental shake to coax the sound of rustling paper. "…That was my second guess."
"I'll take it."
Yang ignored the proffered hand. "Nah, I got this." Unlike her previous attempt, this time she lifted the duffle with the same ease as the others. "Just had to compensate for the weight."
Blake didn't doubt that. Yesterday she had witnessed the brawler punching a bear-like Ursa through several trees of the Emerald Forest followed by the amazing spectacle of holding open a Nevermore's beak with one arm while the other fired off shells down its throat. She would not be so easily felled by books whether they be hardcover or soft.
If Blake hadn't seen it before she might find it difficult to believe that the buxom blonde strutting around in a top and short shorts while resuming her tune was the same person who performed those feats. Compared to her sister's childlike innocence and awkwardness, Yang was much more carefree and confident as was clearly displayed with how she had waved so enthusiastically to Blake during their first meeting with a bashful Ruby being dragged behind her.
The faunus found it impossible to not like her and it was that nature that convinced her to partner up with her. It helped that it had been easy to find her as the blonde had been calling out to no one in particular during her 'boring' trek through Grimm-infested territory. Blake had observed Yang's encounter with the Ursi from the shadows and witnessed firsthand her unwavering confidence in the face of danger…followed by an explosion of power and fury when one golden strand of hair spelled doom for one of the monsters.
Surprisingly, Blake found her rage to be nearly comical considering the reason and had stepped in to take care of the second Ursa. In the wake of its collapsing body, lilac met amber with Blake throwing a grin for good measure that Yang eventually returned with a quip to signal another emotional switch. There would be additional ones that would have Blake rolling her eyes or smiling but each action was accompanied with a stroke of amusement and the assurance that she could live with this for the next four years.
There were a few more bags and Blake offered a good morning to Ren who was stuck with the same chore – not looking happy about it - before she tried to locate tags with the name Belladonna written on them. To her surprise, Blake found one left – the other three were marked with Xiao Long. The explanation that Yang had saved her own baggage for last touched the faunus and she grabbed one of them to haul with her own.
"By the way," Yang spoke when they passed each other, "our uniforms came in too. I placed them on the desk. You can shower and change first."
"You carried in most of the luggage," Blake argued, unwilling to accept such kindness without a fight. "You should go first."
"You'll get sick of waiting, trust me." Since her hands were filled again, Yang had to shake her head forcibly in order to direct Blake's attention to her lengthy mane of messy hair. "These babies require special attention." She used her foot to kick the door closed. "Besides, I need to find my hair dryer."
Well she couldn't argue with that. "Thank you."
The uniforms were laid out on a desk like Yang said, all neatly folded and protected by clear plastic. With them were four coffee mugs stamped with Beacon's insignia which amused Blake to no end when she remembered that the headmaster could always be found with one in hand. She preferred tea instead of coffee but, for all she knew, it might be something else that Ozpin always drank. She took her uniform and the hanger that was provided but left the mugs for later.
If there was a complaint that Blake had to make for the dorm rooms it was that the door on the left side offered a single bathroom while the one on the right was a closet to store their clothing. With a team of four, she would think that it would be more efficient to supply two bathrooms so things wouldn't get backed up but figured that the public restrooms and showers would counteract it if students were willing to make the trip which, after their trials in the Emerald Forest, they did.
She put that concern to the back of her mind as soon as she entered the bathroom and locked the door behind her. Now that she had her privacy…
Her violet-furred ears took advantage of their freedom as soon as Blake unraveled her bow, flexing and twitching in order to work the stiffness out of them. While she had taken special care to select a covering that wouldn't be uncomfortable, being tied down all night and restricted to the barest of movements caused some discomfort that needed to be relieved. It was a small price to pay for.
She got the water running before stripping out of her sleepwear and by the time Blake had pulled out her uniform and hung it up on the door it was hot enough for her. This time she couldn't stop herself from purring with the knowledge that her teammates wouldn't be able to hear as the soothing heat soaked and soothed her body. She may live up to the stereotypical noises that people suspected a cat faunus such as her can make but she enjoyed a hot shower as much as any other human.
It made that unflattering theory that some believed – whether as a cruel joke or actual seriousness – about faunus licking themselves for cleanliness agitate her so easily. Her cat ears, however, did flatten themselves against her head in order to keep exposure of water in her sensitive canals to a minimum.
She stayed as long as necessary, mindful of her team. She stepped out of the shower and used the supplied towels to dry off. Then, with her stomach clenching with anticipation, Blake threw on her uniform.
She chose to forego the knee socks and while she had some reservations about the skirt, she ultimately paid it no mind. Her measurements had been taken beforehand yet she was mildly impressed with how the shirt, vest, and blazer fitted so well. The gentle, earthly shades of brown were pleasing to the eye. The mirror let her check herself out and Blake found it impossible to stop the smile that spread across her face.
So here we are, she mentally conversed with her reflection. Blake Belladonna: student of Beacon and future Huntress. Ready to begin our new life?
She felt her ears flutter with the excitement that the thoughts bred and the mirror let her see the movement.
Oh…right. The feeling diminished as did her smile. Sighing, the faunus picked up the band and placed it on her head before retying the bow to hide her ears from sight.
Whether by Yang or her own free will, Ruby had awoken and, funnily enough, was admiring her own uniform. Hearing Blake's reappearance, the young leader whirled around and the faunus had to stop herself from fidgeting at the intense, silver-eyed stare that was examining her so thoroughly.
"Awesome," Ruby breathed out.
Blake barely heard it and she felt her cheeks grow warm at the compliment. She wasn't sure how to respond and she was spared from doing so when Ruby snatched her cloak and disappeared in a shower of rose petals. Blake felt a rush of wind and heard a quick "Morning Blake!" at her side that ended with the door shutting behind her.
Embarrassment was temporarily replaced with astonishment as Blake whipped her head around. She had never seen Ruby move that quickly before.
"It's her Semblance."
Blake turned back to find Yang sitting in front of an open suitcase, various items – including a yellow hair dryer – having been placed around her. "Speed?"
Yang nodded. "A-yup."
"Impressive." The comment was sincere. For a girl who wielded a gigantic scythe, Blake wouldn't expect that to be her ability. She was fast but when Ruby moved she couldn't even track her. "I think I can guess what yours is."
"Flashy, I know," Yang admitted with a proud expression. She collected some bottles of shampoos and conditioners from the case and dumped them with her hair dryer. "Yours is pretty cool too. I didn't get a good look at it but are you able to create clones of yourself?"
"Temporary copies," Blake explained, her own pride flickering across her face. "I use them for distractions and boosts but that's about it."
"Really?" Yang gave her an exaggerated frown. "So I guess you can't use them for something useful like sending them to class instead? Do your homework for you? Brush your hair?"
Her partner's tone was light but it did little to stop a frown – this one not exaggerated – from appearing while Blake tensed defensively. "No."
"Woah there." Yang held up her hands in defense, expression becoming apologetic. "It was just a joke but I'm sorry if I offended you. Don't get me wrong; that ninja stuff is pretty cool."
The genuine apology and a reminder that joking was something that her partner seemed to enjoy did ease her stance. The praise served to wipe away the rest of her irritation. Blake knew that her reaction wasn't entirely Yang's fault. Being a faunus, she had come to expect ridicule and insults from a human and the joke, while innocent, had initiated a reaction that had become instinctive.
Would it have been a joke if she knew? Blake questioned. Yang and Ruby were both caring individuals but did that extend to faunus? Humans can be the best of friends with each other but the worst of enemies when it came to another race. Weiss she expected hostility but the interactions between her other two teammates and faunus were still an unknown to her.
Blake was wary about asking but she had seen others of her kind having been accepted into Beacon. Best thing to do was to wait and watch although she didn't know what good it would do her in the end. Prejudice or not, Blake had no intention of revealing her heritage to them either way. Not so much because it meant she was a faunus but because it would eventually reveal her ties to the White Fang which could cause irreparable damage, especially with the Schnee heiress.
Everything had gone quiet in the dorm except for the sound of running water. Blake purposely chose not to break it and hoped that Yang would go back to sorting through her things. To her surprise, the onyx-haired girl found Yang examining her like how Ruby had done before. The corners of her lips quirked up.
"You look pretty good in that for a ninja."
Her compliment invoked the same cheek-burning response. Looking down to hide them, Blake fiddled with the hem of her skirt. "I'm not much of a fan with this piece."
"You seem like a real big one when it comes to that bow," Yang countered. "I don't think I've ever seen you without it."
Blake continued to fiddle with the material but her cheeks cooled significantly. Yang had mentioned the bow before but that had been before they were partners and Blake was able to brush it off. "It's important to me."
"Oh." She wasn't looking at Yang but Blake could hear how her tone became muted. Then it came back with a bright, "Well, I can understand that! Ruby always wears that cape of hers unless she's sleeping. And I did say I liked the bow. It suits you."
The relief of how the simplicity of the excuse saved her encouraged Blake to meet Yang's warm gaze. "Thanks."
Yang nodded with a sunny smile before going back to uncovering more of her things, happy that any unpleasantries had been avoided. Blake actually felt a slight bounce in her step as she made her way to the pile, picking out her own bags to sort through.
The shower being turned off was all too noticeable given the peaceful air that was established. A minute later, the door swung wide open and out stepped the young leader of Team RWBY, clad in her school uniform. Unlike Blake, she had taken to wearing the knee socks and the faunus noted that Yang had apparently spoken true about the cape as Ruby had the red cloth hanging from her shoulders.
That cloak was lifted with the motion of Ruby's twirl to show off her attire. When she stopped, it was to look at her teammates with the clear expectations of compliments. Her arms remained stretched out as were her lips.
Blake still found it impossible to resist Ruby once that bubble she generated around her sucked her in. Within it, she became infested with that energetic cheerfulness that wasn't satisfied with being contained within such a small body. So when her leader beamed at her, Blake had to smile and offer a flattering, "Awesome."
Pleased with the approval of one subordinate, Ruby turned to the other…and paled considerably.
Blake saw the source of her distress. Rising from the floor with slow movements, Yang stood up to her tall height. Whatever expression was on her face caused Ruby to shake her head in denial.
Yang nodded hers in reply.
Ruby's head shook with a bit more fierceness.
Yang upped the speed of her nod and added a step towards her sister.
Ruby took a step back and peered over her shoulder to the safety of the bathroom that seemed so far away now.
Yang used the moment of inattentiveness to charge.
Ruby "Eeped!" and made a hasty retreat, grabbing the door with the full attention of slamming it in the blonde's face. For someone with speed as her Semblance, she was too slow. As soon as her hand grabbed the knob she was forced to let go when Yang tackled her.
With her sitting position, Blake couldn't see what, exactly, was going on when the sisters disappeared and the sound of them hitting the floor came afterwards. To anyone that wasn't quickly becoming accustomed to their antics, it would sound like one of them was being strangled…which even Blake had to admit was probably happening.
"So cuuute!" came Yang's squeal.
Blake had to rest her head against a stack of suitcases, eyes squeezing shut while teeth bit down on her lip to prevent her laughter.
On the sole bed that still had an occupant, Weiss rolled around to better present her back towards them.
=Two Years Ago=
The knight was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Resting on one knee with helmeted head bowed and armored knuckles planted into the marbled floor, it appeared like a silent guardian awaiting commands or, in this case, to keep watch until an intruder would have it rising to its considerable height. A column held an equally gigantic longsword off to the side at enough of a distance that would allow the knight to reach out and arm itself to vanquish anything that may pose a threat.
When Weiss stepped off the stairs and a heel clicked audibly against a white tile, the knight remained where it was and she didn't even give it a glance.
As enormous as the suit of armor was, its height and bulk seemed modest in comparison to the main entrance hall of the Schnee manor. The stairs that the heiress descended from wound up to three floors of height and the hall stretched at a rather incredible length towards the massive double-door entrance. Along the expansive walls were portraits of Schnee family members and ancestors mixed with expensive oil paintings of beautiful sceneries, the Schnee Quarry chief among them.
To show off more of the family's wealth, a number of statuettes, vases, and even archaic weapons with decorations and polish meant to counteract their timeworn surfaces were on display. Hanging from the ceiling was a luxurious crystal chandelier. In response to the approaching night, the candles were lit to supply light that caused the whole thing to glitter.
Aspects of the manor may appear medieval but all of it was meant to display how the Schnee family had risen to such prominence in a generation of time when Weiss's grandfather had formed the SDC and achieved such gains before handing the reins to his son. While the SDC may seem young when compared to the other Dust companies that had come before it, none of them had expanded as much or as quickly. The size of the manor and the riches it contained were meant to show all of Remnant as to who was at the top when it came to providing mankind its greatest discovery and key to its civilization.
Weiss moved across the hall, disappearing into one of the corridors where the marble tiles gave way to expensive rugs. Additional displays of material wealth lined one side while the other had windows that offered a limited view of the darkened courtyard and the lavish garden that landscapers had dutifully warped and tamed out of nature with smooth hedges and cultivated rose bushes. The Schnee manor was a monument that spoke of greatness.
It was also a fortress. The manor sported a wide-range of high-tech defenses and detection systems in these old-fashioned exhibits that were meant to keep people out. Behind the paintings were security cameras. Outside, there was an invisible laser net that was configured to respond to the intrusion of humans and non-humans alike. Selected tiles on the floor were pressure plates that could trigger biological or mechanical armed responses. There were at least two fortified bolt holes that members of the Schnee family could retreat to and be completely safe until the danger passed or was put down.
It was a prison. Everything that was designed to keep people out was also meant to keep her in.
A pair of servants, their arms empty and steps unhurried, hinted to their retirement to their quarters. Their backs were nonetheless straight and, upon sighting the heiress, they were quick to bow. Weiss gave them no response, passing them with a walk that was purposeful while she kept her scroll tight at her side.
The lingering aroma of a dinner recently cooked assisted Weiss in locating her target even if she knew where to find him. Everything here was like clockwork, including habits. A drawn-out day of business meant a late night return. Fortunately, it was an instance that would lead to a relaxing meal cooked by a staff member who was on the verge of retiring for bed so that they may reawaken in time for breakfast. After that, a drink and going over the financial records of the day's earnings in preparation for what may be in store for tomorrow.
It was a quiet night. More advantageously, it was a night after several that were similar. No slamming doors, no curses being spat, nothing thrown or broken. Weiss had been planning for such a time and it was inconceivable to miss such a perfect moment. Tempers are at an all-time low and her arguments won't be so hastily dismissed.
All it would take is one call to ruin everything, a single bit of news delivered by a servant to shatter the entire mood. And with her experience, she knew how things could become so warped in so little of time. She had to strike now.
The main dining hall was nowhere near as massive but it was still too big for the few who actually dined here. At the center was a long table that had an exquisite silk cloth draped over its surface. Over the scent of food, Weiss could smell the recent polish of the paneled walls; apparently the cleaning staff had managed to come through before the master paid a visit.
The solitary figure was seated at the far end of the table, occupying one of the many chairs that surrounded the furniture but were hardly used. As Weiss suspected, there was the illumination of the scroll in his hand, his finger having been in mid-swipe before she entered. A miniscule shift of her vision let her see the glass that held a generous measure of whatever liquid currently filled it. The color matched what was in the crystal decanter – a quarter empty.
Eyeing the expensive container and how the light of the nearby fireplace danced across the crystalline surface, Weiss wondered if she should truly consider his pickings of the liquor cabinet – possessing its own locks to dissuade the introduction of poisons – the advantage that she thought it was.
Mercifully, he had never overly-indulged in such a vice no matter how furious he would become. If Weiss had to credit him for something, it was his sense that such a route would further deteriorate the situation both in the office and at home. Instead, he restrained himself to such helpings to relieve enough of the stress to soften his resistance against sleep. She hoped that it would work to keep the matter strictly business.
However, she would make it personal if she had to.
Weiss pulled out a chair for herself at the opposite end of the table. No measure of closeness would work in her favor and she knew it would be an insult to the both of them if she tried. She set herself down and brought up her scroll.
She was aware of his gaze on her, eyes that she had inherited tracking her movements. He had set aside his glass but the scroll remained up, especially when he saw hers. It did little to weaken Weiss's straight-back posture or put any form of hesitation in her fingers' movements as she tapped her screen.
Eventually the crackling of the fire was joined with an insistent beeping while an indication light blinked on. It lasted for the second it took him to accept the transfer that uploaded her organized files to his screen. Those icy blues broke away from Weiss in order to view them.
Weiss's, on the other hand, stayed on him. She set her scroll down on the silk-clothed table but didn't relax her posture. It was more than just the profiles, the schematics, and the rest of the data that she had gathered; she had to make sure that he knew that her stance was one of sincerity and not that of selfish greed of a fifteen-year-old who was going through rebellion.
She was on the lookout for warning signs and had to make sure that her internal ease didn't show at her exterior when she didn't find them. He was leaning slightly forward, one hand keeping his scroll held perfectly straight while the other swiped a slow, steady finger across the screen as he cycled through them but giving him time to read them carefully. Not once did it break to acquire the full glass at his side.
Unfortunately, she knew he hadn't gotten very far when he spoke, "I thought we talked about this."
Weiss had to quell her irritation with a note that he was still staring at his scroll. "I mentioned it but the situation hadn't left much room to sufficiently discuss it."
That had been a month ago and two weeks after another funeral. Weiss would discover that it had apparently been too soon. Not so much because of any emotional burdens that may've lingered – they were far beyond that, the both of them -, but the work that needed to be done in order to promote a proper replacement. That and the condolences to surviving kin, review of security measures, and other forms of damage control had him exchanging barely a couple sentences with her concerning the subject before he was right out the door.
He offered a short nod of his head but little else. It was only after another motion of his finger and a scan with his eyes that Weiss saw the digits that held his scroll curl for just a fraction. She had been keeping track of the number of swipes and guessed that he was reading far enough that he saw the distinctive similarity of the profiles.
Their names, their status, and their price would provide heavy weight for recommendations. Weiss had done a lot of research to make sure that not only would the best be chosen but they would match well with the fighting style that she decided on.
That, at least, her father seemed to approve of. After going through the last of the profiles he murmured, "An elegant style."
The only kind worthy of a Schnee. A sword may seem out of place in a world full of advanced technology but it taught more than fighting: it taught you discipline, balance, stamina, grace, speed, and coordination. The style of this swordplay in particular capitalized on it with swift, elegant strokes and stabs meant to slay your enemy with clean and accurate strikes, not the clumsy and savage swings of a more cumbersome weapon.
Besides, technology may have become prevalent in society but the mystical elements that mankind had weaponized allowed them to overcome those weaknesses. Weiss made sure to take her own abilities into account when it came to the construction of her weapon.
That did not go as smoothly with him. He flipped his scroll around so that she could see the schematic before the disapproving tone came, "You didn't do this."
There was no use lying to him. Keeping a straight face, Weiss admitted, "I didn't. I convinced Fulgun to help me with the design based on the ideas that I supplied him and the resources that would be available to him."
There was a slight arch to his brow whether it was because he hadn't expected her to admit it or because he hadn't expected her to do it that easily. He flipped the scroll back around. "The design is unique as are the ideas. Whether the resources will be available or not is uncertain."
Weiss felt the lowering of her own brows, flawless skin stretching with them, but stayed quiet.
The rest of the readings passed on in silence. When he was done, he set aside the scroll and finally obtained his glass. Weiss translated that as a move to bide time to go over the details and come up with his own approach to handle the affair. The heiress knew that was a polite way of thinking of how to keep her jailed here.
"My first question," he started, setting his empty glass aside, "is why?"
"Should that not be obvious?" Weiss asked with as much civility as she could muster. "We're at war, father, and I prefer not to spend it as a defenseless target. We have our resources and skilled hands - the best that money can buy -, but our enemies are proving more and more tenacious. They only have to get lucky once and then what will I do?"
"A valid point and one I agree with. What I do not agree with is where you expect to go to accomplish this. What business does a Schnee have with such beasts? We control the supply of weapons so let the soldiers do the fighting. It's pointless and counterproductive."
"I do not expect to join them. I'm not stupid enough to lower myself to such an occupation when the destiny of our family is at stake. I'm just going to take advantage of their facilities to become stronger. The trainers that I picked out will be able to recommend me to them."
"I see no reason why you can't simply let your trainers do that here."
That was going to be the hardest part of the argument but it was the most important. Even if Weiss ended up getting all she asked, if she didn't have this then everything would be for nothing. Beacon offered more than just a way to make her stronger: it gave her freedom.
She would not let her desperation show unless she wanted to risk losing it though. "It is ranked as the top combat school on the entire planet. Its professors are all former Huntsmen and Huntresses who have years of experience and its libraries carry all the gathered knowledge on how to fight. It is the safest and best place there is."
"Safe?" he scoffed. "They send you out to fight monsters."
"That's why they only accept the best and the brightest to kill them. Do you doubt my abilities, father?"
He waved it off. "No, of course not. Don't ask such a preposterous thing. You are the brightest and most gifted child there is and I'm proud of you, Weiss. Anything you want - anything you wish -, you can achieve it."
"Then let me have this."
"I will, and you can have it here."
Weiss had the hindsight to place her hands beneath the table to keep them out of view so that her father wouldn't see how they balled into fists. Even at the young age of fifteen, she possessed a good handling of her emotions when it came to these debates. Her first lessons specifically stressed how letting your emotions control you was letting your opponents do the same and turn the argument in their favor.
But she was still a fifteen-year-old girl. A girl who has gotten sick and tired of having been caged for so long and desired to be released no matter what it took. And if her father was allowed to be angry then why can't she?
"Here?" Manicured nails started digging into her palms. "I can do nothing here."
Her father looked at her incredulously. "This is your birthright. All of this will be yours one day."
"But it isn't!" Weiss snapped. "Do you not understand that!?" She was barely aware of the sound of the chair toppling over behind her or how she was now clutching the edge of the table as she shot to her feet. Her glare easily cut the distance that separated the two of them. "None of this is mine!"
She gestured around them. "This is yours! Everything in this mansion was built by you and grandfather! When you took over the company, anyone just had to look at something like this to know of your greatness! But what of me, father? I'm just another trinket that you keep locked away here, away from the world! No one knows anything about me!"
"Don't be ridiculous!" Now it was her father that was up. He was keeping better control of his voice but there was nothing he could do about the offended expression on his face or the color that was encroaching it. "Of course they do!"
"Oh, right," Weiss replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not a trinket; I'm a delicate songbird that performs in front of the masses in another of your monuments. How is that going to help me? How does that make me a worthy successor of the Schnee name? What does White Fang have to be afraid of me for, father?"
That seemed to put a stop to whatever he was going to say next. Emboldened, Weiss replied, "That's what Beacon will do for me. There, I can become powerful and people will know of it! They will recognize me as a Huntress, a slayer of monsters, the most talented there is! The Fang will know and they will fear me! I will show them the futility of their actions against us and prove to everyone why our family is strong!"
The rant left Weiss leaning over her end of the furniture, her hands bunching up the white table cloth while her breaths came heavily. For once, it was her father who seemed astounded by her anger instead of the other way around. The only reason Weiss didn't smile in satisfaction was due to the dread of the possibility that she had just blown her chances.
Yet her father didn't lash back at her like she expected him to. In fact, that color of outrage had fled entirely and her own glare had successfully melted his own. He had dropped back into his chair but Weiss remained standing, her eyes not leaving him for a moment.
When he went for the decanter, Weiss realized she won.
"Fine," he spoke after downing his refilled glass. Some of the edge came back to his features but the heiress could see that it was mostly for show. "You'll have your teachers but it is you who will have to get to Beacon."
Weiss's grip on the table relaxed and instead of retrieving her chair she straightened up. She knew what he was talking about and she had expected it. To get into Beacon, she needed to make up for what time she hadn't spent in a regular combat school during the next two years. That wouldn't be a problem as she was Weiss Schnee after all: the brightest and most gifted daughter of the Schnee head. She'll gladly take any challenge and exceed it.
"Then I have nothing to worry about." Weiss retrieved her scroll but, again, made no move to do the same to her chair as she stepped around it to get to the door.
"You can tell Fulgun that he'll have his resources."
It was because she had her back to him that Weiss smiled when she reached for the door. "I will."
"After that, I think he'll be needing a new job."
The smile died and Weiss froze with her hand on the knob. She turned her head so that her left eye was looking back at her father. "I suppose he will."
The idea that she had just ruined someone's life to get what she wanted made her uneasy but she stifled that feeling of regret. The man can find another job with another company. He was skilled in his line of work so it should be easy for him.
Weiss, on the other hand, could not count on second chances. She had won her battle but the war was still raging and sometimes sacrifices had to be made. She'll keep the casualties in mind but she'll use the memories of the fallen to push her forward, not hold her back.
And this war had quite a number of them. She doubted they were going to end anytime soon.
=Present=
Yang hadn't been lying about the maintenance that she devoted to her hair. After her own shower there came the sound of a hair dryer from within the privacy of the bathroom that lasted, in Blake's opinion, almost as long as her twenty-minute cleansing with how the dryer clicked off, paused, and then started up again when the blonde found a fault that needed to be corrected. The faunus figured that such a mass of hair may be slow to dry but this seemed ridiculous.
When Yang finally did come out, she was still fussing over it. With her long mane draped over her shoulder, her fingers combed through the golden locks to locate any last minute knots. None were found to Blake's relief.
That left the R, B, and Y of Team RWBY ready to take on the day. As for the W…
"She did push herself pretty hard during initiation," Yang spoke in her defense and even Blake nodded in agreement as they scrutinized the blanket-covered lump. As wary as she was when it came to the heiress, even the faunus had to admit that Weiss possessed skill with not only a blade but her Dust spells. She supposed the combination could be rather taxing.
Although the latter isn't that much of a surprise… Blake was very much aware that the vial of red Dust that she had picked up at Beacon's entrance was just one of several that the fencer had supplied herself with. There were potentially dozens of them sealed away in those specially-designed cases at the foot of her bed to be used with her Myrtenaster.
"No excuses!"
While Blake had no idea where that timid little girl from two days ago had gone, she could guess at the why. As they had speculated the day before, being faced with a test that had them facing and overcoming life-threatening danger with their comrades brought some unity within not only RWBY but JNPR. For Ruby, it seemed to have allowed her to firmly settle herself within Beacon and become comfortable with the people around her. It certainly explained all this enthusiasm.
"This is our first official day as Team RWBY!" the red-black girl exclaimed as she unzipped a side pocket of one of her bags. She shoved a hand inside and started searching through the contents. "Preparations need to be made, starting with establishing our base of operations! We have no time to waste!"
Being made team leader probably helped but when Ruby withdrew her hand, fingers clutching the unmistakable shape of a whistle, Blake started to wonder about the wisdom of making a fifteen-year-old the head of a Huntressing team and not expecting it to maybe go over her head. Yang didn't seem to share her fears, the blonde retrieving items from a case that hadn't been emptied yet, her sister's enthusiasm spurring her on.
It was perhaps Ruby's excitable words that roused Weiss from her slumber. The blankets shifted then fell away entirely as Weiss sat up in her bed, bare legs hanging over the side. Her arms stretched high above her head as she yawned.
This didn't deter Ruby from her chosen course of action as she quietly moved onto her partner's bed, sitting on top of her folded knees while she brought the whistle to her lips. The subtle shifting of the mattress hinted Weiss to Ruby's presence and blue orbs shifted sluggishly in their sockets to bring her into view.
Blake was prepared but still had to hide a small wince when the shrill song of the whistle stung her hidden pair of ears. Weiss had no such preparation, the heiress letting out a "Guh!" as the instrument had her jumping with those arms now flailing as she slipped and fell off the edge of her bed, landing on the floor in a heap.
Ruby jumped off the bed and managed to land properly on her feet before shouting, "Good morning, Team RWBY!"
Weiss extracted her face from the wooden floor and spun around so that she could look up towards Ruby. The look she sent her leader was one of perplexity and steadily-growing anger. "What in the world is wrong with you?"
Oblivious to the anger being directed at her, Ruby smiled gleefully down at her fallen subordinate. "Now that you're awake we can officially begin our first order of business!"
"Excuse me?" the fencer asked, confusion beating her anger as she tried to regain her bearings. She picked herself up from the floor, idly brushing and smoothing down her nightgown.
"Decorating!" Yang supplied cheerfully. She had returned to Blake's side, her arms filled with an assortment of items that ranged from a puppy-shaped pillow, headphones, and additional hair care products such as a brush and a another brand of shampoo - this one having the picture of a samurai to display its brand.
Weiss swung towards the two of them. "What?"
Blake had grinned at her partner's cheerfulness but now sought to keep a straight face upon finding the eyes of the Schnee heiress on her. She lifted her own suitcase into view. "We still have to unpack." It was already bulging at the seams yet despite holding out for this long the slight movement that she made seemed to be the last straw as it popped open, dumping out spare blankets, a book – of course -, a toothbrush, and toothpaste. Inspecting the mess, Blake added, "Annnd clean."
Weiss's expression was far from amused and Ruby used the moment to blare the whistle in front of her face for the second time. The fencer stopped herself from crying out this time but failed to prevent another surprised jump that had her losing her balance and falling over again.
"Alright!" Ruby positioned herself in the center of the room, the smile proving to be permanent. "Weiss, Blake, Yang, and their fearless leader Ruby have begun their first mission!" She lifted a fist to the ceiling and ended with, "Banzai!"
"Banzai!" It was not just Yang who dutifully copied her sister's actions as Blake found her voice and fist joining in with the blonde's. She couldn't stop her grin this time and she was surprised that she didn't want to.
She had to admit, this was all rather…fun. Seeing the members of JNPR and RWBY socializing back at the headmaster's office had the faunus become a victim of this fluttering warmth within her that put her at ease as she viewed such joy. But there had been this uncertainty that kept her rooted as the spectator. As pleasant as the scene was, there was something so alien about it that had Blake hesitating to join in until there came the subject that drifted to her previous life of misery that convinced her to step in.
She wasn't a spectator this time and that fluttering warmth had become a driving force that was being fueled by the carefree attitudes of Ruby and Yang. Such as now, it was sweeping her off her feet and throwing her forward without care to be part of these joyous acts. There was still something very foreign about all this but Blake couldn't find it in her to care.
Weiss didn't seem up to agreeing. Appearing positively exasperated, the heiress sighed and let her forehead rest against the floorboards, unwilling to face the sentence that had been dished out to her. Eventually she mumbled, "…I'm taking a shower first."
While the water came on for a fourth time, they got to work. For Blake, there was one matter of business that she couldn't wait for that involved the duffle bag that had given her partner some minor difficulties. She dragged it over to the low bookcase that she immediately claimed for herself – Ruby would have to put her stacks of WEAPONS magazines elsewhere – and took a seat.
As she had told Yang, the bag was filled with books; many of them large and cumbersome that would supply hours if not days of time in a quiet room to get through while the smaller paperbacks could be carried around on her person that she would pull out for whenever she had time to read a short chapter or two.
They had been a source of comfort in Blake's life, the other being Adam. While she had devoted herself to a cause that required dedication and action in a vain attempt to change the world, the faunus found it pleasant to close herself off from it for a time with these tomes of paper and ink. All it required was a corner, a weak light, and the turning of pages to find herself in a fictional universe that became constructed in her mind with the help of the written word.
A place that was far more pleasant and merciful than reality. Numerous times she would set aside a book, another story completed, and ponder over such divergence. Books came in a variety of genres that told a different tale for a different person at a different place with differing conflicts yet there was a general consensus that came from the hands of real-life authors. Other than the obvious exceptions such as within the tragedy genre, the formula tended to be the same whether it had been constructed for romance, fantasy, adventure, or drama: there would be times of great pain and conflict for the protagonist yet the odds would always be beaten and a happy ending was obtained.
They were products of fiction yet constructed by ideals that the author believed and wrote down as if fact such as the triumph of evil never being granted. It puzzled Blake how such morals were so commonplace in one dimension when the relationship required the other that possessed such immoralities.
In the end, she supposed it was because they were just that: stories. They weren't real and that was the attraction for both the author and the reader. They were written and read because they could be fashioned and chosen to be lawful and just. Pen, paper, and imagination can accomplish what the real world and its incalculable variables kept in a constant state of disarray. They were an escape, nothing more, but they were not treacherous either; always true to their nature.
Lost as she was, Blake almost didn't notice a particular book that possessed a rather guilty nature she'd like to keep as secretive as her ears. She had held the black book in front of her, skimmed the red-lettered title, and was about to slide it into the shelf with the rest of its brethren before the recognition that had flown over her head did an about-face and struck her hard.
She swiftly tugged the book back, her eyes going wide as she nervously glanced around at her teammates who were suddenly way too close for comfort. Yang had pushed their beds off to the side so that she could better decorate the wall with a poster while Ruby was trying to figure out how she can get a rod and some red curtains to the hooks that topped their rather tall window. Blake used their distractions as an opportunity to slip her book into a side pocket of her duffle. She'll figure out a better hiding spot for that later.
Yang had finished smoothing out her poster that was horribly lopsided and Blake's curiosity had her examining it to possibly gain a bit of insight on her partner's interests. It proved futile as the faunus couldn't recognize any of the young men on the poster and The Achieve Men was ringing no bells whatsoever.
The brawler happened to glance over and notice Blake's bewildered face. Looking between her black-haired partner and the poster, Yang adopted a similar expression before saying, "The Achieve Men."
She said it slow, as if speaking to a child, but Blake couldn't be annoyed at something that was becoming clear as being due to her own failing. She shrugged, clueless.
"The Achieve Men," Yang spoke again as if doing so would magically unlock the knowledge that Blake was lacking. Seeing no change she tried, "Geoff, Ray, Ryan, Michael, Jack, Gavin?"
Blake shrugged again and started to look apologetic.
"Mark Nutt totally supports these guys! They had a concert a couple weeks ago to commemorate their latest album Tease It!"
Blake had no idea who that was either but she thought she remembered something going on in Vale around that time. Actually, the tune that Yang had been humming earlier sounded kind of similar to what her cat ears had been picking up before she plugged them so that she wouldn't be distracted from her reading time.
Which still left her with no idea about what Yang was talking about. "I'm sorry?"
"You should be!" Yang cried, flinging her hands up in the air. "You read a lot don't you? You've had to have at least read their comics, right?" Not waiting for an answer – possibly because she didn't want to hear another negative from Blake -, Yang looked to her sister. "Ruby, did you bring them?"
Their leader had apparently managed to get the rod and curtain up with Crescent Rose and was now using the reverse end of her scythe to slide them closed. She must've been listening in though with how she replied, "X-Ray and Vav?" She spun around to face Yang, her weapon coming with her. "Of course! They're the best!"
Blake was about to elaborate about her preference for novels and disfavor of comic books but was interrupted when half of the window curtain nearly fell over her. Unknown to Ruby, when she turned she brought Crescent Rose around and the super sharp blade had cut the fabric in half.
Someone was going to make it very known. "You klutz!"
All turned to behold Weiss who had stepped out with her nightgown neatly folded in her arms, having traded it for her own school uniform.
Ruby stared at Weiss and then towards the halved curtain. Realization dawned on her and she attempted to hide a fully-length Crescent Rose behind her back when she turned back to her partner. "Weiss, it was an accident!"
"And that would make how many accidents you've been responsible for?" Weiss asked angrily.
"Um…" Ruby leaned back, gaze becoming unfocused as she attempted to recollect the exact number.
"Forget it!" Weiss stomped over to her luggage and selected one from the pile after putting her sleepwear aside. A quick search produced a needle and a small spool of thread that she brought over. "I'll fix it like always!"
Ruby seemed too surprised by what Weiss was holding to offer any kind of retort. "You can sew?"
"Of course I can!" Weiss snapped, seeming offended at the idea that someone didn't believe she could do something that was likely a trivial thing to her. She tossed the severed section of fabric to Ruby. "It won't be perfect but that's because I'm not going to waste all my time to repair something you ruined!" She stepped on top of the bookcase. "Get up here and hold it in place!"
To be honest, Blake was as surprised as Ruby as she would've thought Weiss had enough servants around to do such a task without needing to learn how to do it herself. She looked over to Yang who shrugged.
"I learned to do it when Ruby tore her clothes," the brawler told her privately. "But hey," she shrugged and looked at the two girls who stood side-by-side on top of the bookcase and fussed over the curtain, "kind of cute, isn't it?"
Blake didn't think that was an appropriate word to describe the scene, what with Weiss occasionally snapping and Ruby hastily trying to follow through with her instructions, but she didn't offer any argument. The softening features of the brawler as she watched the scene told the faunus that, despite what it may seem like, Yang was hoping that the girls would become closer as partners. Blake wasn't sure if that was due to the wishings that came with being an older sibling or the slack Yang was giving Weiss for previously saving Ruby from being impaled by the stinger of a giant scorpion.
The repair job wasn't that bad though; you'd have to peer closely to see the stitching. With that out of the way, Team RWBY's mission to decorate their dorm room resumed without a hitch as they filled the closet, the shelves, walls, and desks with all sorts of personal trinkets that they brought with them and making room when it was needed.
…Which was when they inevitably ran into their next problem. Standing back with her team, Blake had to admit that her previous assumption of the dorm offering plenty of room may've been a bit premature if the beds that had been unceremoniously tossed together in the center during the team's attempt to spruce up the place was any indication.
"This isn't going to work," Weiss stated flatly.
"It is a bit cramped," Blake admitted.
"Maybe we should ditch some of our stuff," Yang offered.
"Or," Ruby contemplated, her eyes scanning the room before landing back at the middle. "We could ditch the beds…" Gasping at a sudden idea, Ruby hopped in place. "And replace them with bunk beds!"
"That sounds incredibly dangerous," came Weiss's unenthusiastic reply.
Blake did see how it could be as the beds were definitely not designed for such a thing. It was more than just putting one bed on top the other; they needed proper supports in order to make sure that they wouldn't fall while raising them at a height that whoever got stuck on the bottom bunk wouldn't hit their heads against the top. She had no idea how they were going to accomplish that.
"And super awesome!" Yang exclaimed.
…It didn't mean that she was unwilling to try. And if they were successful they'd end up with quite a bit of open space. She looked down the line of girls to better address Weiss and Ruby. "It does seem efficient."
Weiss stared at the two disbelievingly. Efficiency did not seem to be prevalent on the heiress's mind when she drew her attention back to the beds. She seemed to grow increasingly uneasy as terrifying images occupied her mind. "Well, we should put it to a vote…"
It was a poor attempt at delaying the inevitable and Ruby pointed out the huge flaw in it. "I think we just did."
Blake gave a thumbs-up to her leader and Yang followed suit with her own agreeable gesture. Weiss scowled.
In the wake of this completely fair and unbiased display of democracy at its finest, the team split into their respective pairs to establish their chosen sections.
"So how are we going to do this?" Yang questioned as she and Blake stood off to the side of the beds they retrieved from the jumbled mess and slid close together. "Do we just lift one and place it on top of the other?"
"It's not going to leave much room for whoever's underneath," replied Blake, sharing her previous observations. "They're too low."
The brawler hummed and scratched her head in a sign of contemplation. "Which means our best bet is to have something stacked between them. I don't really have anything that'll work though."
An idea had come to Blake but she was a bit hesitant to offer it to Yang unless they didn't have a better idea. When her partner remained stumped, Blake went to the filled bookcase. "We can use these."
The quizzical look that Yang gave her changed into wide-eyed astonishment upon seeing the armful of books that was soon presented to her. "Oh no, not your books! We can think of something else later if we have to."
"I've read them before." If anything, Yang's unwillingness was persuading Blake that the idea was a good one. The blonde had obviously picked up on her passion for reading and this combined with the small acts of kindness that she had been showing her all morning made Blake want to do this to return the favor.
She liked her books, this much was true, but she figured that they can offer her enjoyment in other ways. And she wasn't lying when she said she read them before.
It didn't stop Yang's misgivings as she inspected the stack Blake handed her before she went to acquire more. "I can see if Ruby has some she can part with. This probably won't be good for them."
Blake had faith in her novels and their sturdy covers. "Don't worry about it; I have plenty."
"Are you sure?"
The faunus saw it as fortunate that her back was turned so that Yang couldn't see her smile. "Positive."
Piling the novels evenly amongst the four legs proved to be a bigger chore than when they eventually lifted one bed on top of the other. The differing thickness per tome due to the number of pages led to multiple rearrangements to prevent any awkward tilts that could lead to disaster. When they were finally satisfied, it took a simple application of brute strength from Yang and careful steadying on Blake's part to establish their bunk beds.
"We done good," Yang declared with a nod of satisfaction.
If her partner meant constructing a precarious contraption that promised instantaneous death in response to the wrong moves of the occupants then, yes, they 'done good'. Funny that Blake felt a sense of accomplishment if nothing else than because she could already see space that they managed to free up.
"So who gets the top bunk?"
"I'll take the bottom," Blake responded. "This was my idea."
"Aw, you do care!"
The faunus blinked at the words and it took her a bit to understand that Yang had mistaken her intentions. She wanted the bottom bunk because it meant having her books in reach rather than always having to climb up and down. Her reminder that this idea was hers was meant to counter any arguments the blonde may have, not give the impression that she was doing it to accept what consequences may come if her books failed her and brought the beds crashing down.
The awkwardness she felt kept her from correcting Yang. Instead, all she did was mumble an embarrassed, "Don't shake the beds." Needing to look at anything that wasn't Yang, she checked on Ruby and Weiss's progress. She blinked again.
"Weiiiss, I need help!" Ruby pleaded, arms shaking with strain.
Her snow-haired partner made no move to get closer. "Are you nuts?"
Blake didn't know where Ruby got the rope to create her pulley system and a silent question to Yang showed that she didn't know either. There was no denying the scene though: Ruby, her hands clutching a length of rope to hoist up her bunk that was swinging precariously due to her efforts. The action wasn't doing the young girl any good with keeping it there and Weiss was maintaining her distance for the sake of her own well-being.
"Cute?" Blake queried.
Yang shook her head. "Nope. Let's give them a hand."
Once Yang took over, Ruby climbed up to the hanging furniture with several more coils of rope. With Blake's help – and a reluctant Weiss -, the three of them looped the bindings around the bed numerous times before hooking them to the ceiling. That should've been the end of it but Ruby insisted on some improvised curtains to better commemorate what she declared as Fort Rose. Obviously, Weiss wasn't too pleased at the implication that pointed to her being beneath her leader's creation.
Gazing down from her perch, Ruby inspected her team's accomplishments before proudly declaring, "Objective complete! Now our second order of business iiiisss…" She made a motion to Yang who dutifully handed her a notebook. "…classes."
Compared to her energetic beginning, the last word severely lacked it. It lasted until she spread the notebook out on her lap, pencil in hand, and then it was back. "Now we have a few classes together today. At nine we've got a-"
Weiss jerked her head up towards Ruby. "What!? Did you say nine o'clock?"
"Um…"
"Its eight fifty-five you dunce!" Spinning on her heel, Weiss ran out the door.
Ruby was taken aback by her partner's outburst and hasty exit. Soon though, she slid off her bed and followed her example by darting out the door. "To class!"
Blake was last out the door after Yang and the faunus noted that JNPR's dorm was open with all four members sticking their heads out to see what was going on. If that didn't tell Blake that they weren't the only ones in trouble, hearing Jaune's hesitant "Class?" confirmed it. She was already at the stairs when next came, "We're going to be late!"
Eight Huntsmen and Huntresses-in-training burst out from the dormitory building and stampeded through Beacon's courtyard. Despite the threat of being late on their first day and the desperation that incited the two teams to sprint as fast as their legs could go, one thought became paramount in Blake's mind.
This was the best morning she's ever had.
This has to be the worst day she's ever had.
Well, that wasn't fully true. There were plenty of other days that Weiss Schnee could rank as being much, much worse than today but her extended suffering in the present was putting her past experiences off to the side for the moment.
Life at Beacon was becoming more than what she planned on which was both a blessing and a curse. Upon taking her first steps off the airship, Weiss was struck by the image of an academy that clearly represented mankind's hazardous beginning and the advances that had been made since then.
Similar to the Schnee manor, the towers, the stone avenues, and high arches gave off a medieval appearance that masked the technology that the massive vessel that she just exited gave credence to. Yet Weiss found it refreshing. Considering that they were surrounded by Grimm-infested territory, one wouldn't think to describe Beacon as free and liberating.
Weiss noticed the differences immediately. Even when she would discover that the advanced technology that came with humanity's ingenuity was restricted to scrolls, vid-screens, holographic projectors, and rocket-propelled lockers, Weiss didn't feel the smothering air that being in her own home usually pressed on her. Other than that last one, they were all meant for academic purposes, nothing more.
The wide open fields were welcoming and even when you went deeper into the campus grounds, the expansive courtyard broke up the dormitories, library, arenas, and lecture halls that could breed a sense of claustrophobia if allowed to be packed together. There was no deception to be found here. When the faculty was comprised of former Huntsmen and Huntresses while the students themselves already had years of combat training under their belt, there was no need for a sophisticated security system or defenses to offer a suffocating blanket of security.
There was a sense of freedom here and Weiss allowed herself to close her eyes and bask in the feeling. Truly she had found her liberation and the heiress allowed a full, genuine smile appear on her face. The expression felt out of place. It was as if her features were struggling to accept something that had been missing for what must have been a lifetime.
Sadly, it would prove to be the last one she would have for a while. The sound of what had to be hopes and dreams toppling behind her erased it as she spun around to locate the source.
It was only later that she would understand that she was being presented with an omen of the dark times that were ahead: a form of red and black with white scattered around it. A perfect picture of how her efforts were about to be undone due to the introduction of a childish dolt.
This was something that had been beyond her control. Weiss had months of planning for her trainers, her weapon, her fighting style, and two years to mentally and physically prepare herself for this day (although she was overqualified concerning the former). Whatever Beacon would throw at her, she would be able to take it. She had been sure of it.
Now Fate, that was a different opponent altogether. And it can be very cruel.
It had taken a sick delight in taunting her with this latest minion. When Weiss was amidst a crowd of students, it had taken a turn of her head to spot the red-black tresses next to her. When sleep was eluding her due to insistent ramblings, the source she sought to silence turned out to be that same short fifteen-year-old. When she had been catapulted to what she assumed was a random point in the forest, it soon proved to be the continued machinations of this unseen entity when she spun around and found her icy blues locking with a silver pair.
Thus, her fate was sealed.
She wasn't above compromising though. She was willing to partner up with this child if it meant avoiding one that exceeded her incompetence. If this girl was to be her underling for her entire stay at Beacon, she could put their previous disputes as water under the bridge. And maybe she was 'fine'.
Fate just laughed and spat in her face.
Ruination: that was all that she would get.
Waking up this morning, Weiss gave the benefit of a doubt that this had been an elaborate ploy. That false initiation had actually been a premonition of things to come if she failed to remain vigilant and avoid this cloaked fiend. Her plans could remain intact.
A turn of a head later and there she was, this time armed. The screeching of the whistle proved to be a wake-up call in more ways than one.
So started Weiss Schnee's first morning as an official student of Beacon.
I can't believe this! Weiss mentally despaired, not for the first time and definitely not the last. It had become an unending mantra as her day went on and served to turn everything that she had just admired bitter.
What freedom was there to be had if she was to bend to the whims of a girl two years her junior? What reputation can she possibly expect to make if her leader couldn't even keep track of her schedule when she was too busy decorating? She was starting to wish that she had stayed at home to train.
No, she didn't mean that. It was the only reason that she was willing to put up with this while praying that it will somehow work out.
"Weiss! Weiss!"
Upon stepping into the lecture hall that was reserved for her Grimm Studies course, she truly wondered if such a thing could happen. Correction: their Grimm Studies course. The heiress saw the waving hand before she heard the annoying chirping. Feeling her jaw clench, Weiss directed a cold stare to the one who sought her attention.
Immune to the temperature, Ruby pointed to a spot between her and her brutish sister. Blake was sitting off to Yang's side. How cute; her team was all there and waiting for her.
Weiss needed to make an additional correction. This wasn't her team; it was Ruby's. RWBY for Ruby. Yet another joke that Weiss was at the butt end of.
She had tried to keep her distance for the day. As Ruby mentioned, they did have a few classes together and Weiss had managed to keep an agreeable degree of separation during then. Fortune favored her in that regard by planting other students in seats around her partner. For a good portion of the day, Weiss had been able to indulge in her fantasy of being a diligent student without restraints or distractions.
Not so for this class. Undoubtedly, Ruby wanted to make sure to rub it in her face this time. Steeling herself, Weiss took the reserved seat and forced herself to look straight ahead to avoid meeting the stare she felt being burned into the side of her head.
It's just one class for one day, the heiress tried to reason. It became a contest to see how long Weiss could stop herself from calculating the number of classes that were in a single day and how many days were in four years. She lost pretty quickly.
An elbow nudged into her ribs with a little too much force. Suppressing the wince and her irritation, Weiss glanced to her left. "What?"
"How was your day, Weiss?" Ruby questioned with that ever present smile that had Weiss wanting to grind her teeth each time she spotted it.
She kept her cool. She may've been willing to quarrel with her partner on multiple occasions in the past but the situation has changed. Ruby got her role but she'll keep her composure in the classroom. "Fine."
Ruby's mouth twitched to show the disappointment of such a blunt tone. Pity that she didn't take the hint as her next words proved. "Just fine? We're at Beacon, Weiss! The top combat school in all of Remnant! I mean our initiation was pretty cool, but today we're actual students! We're going to be Huntresses!"
The younger girl was practically bouncing in her seat which served to annoy the heiress. She had been chosen as team leader? How could Ozpin possibly think that this was such a good idea? Even though he had said they were being observed, Weiss was starting to believe that whoever had been doing the observing had missed quite a few things.
She almost got herself killed! Weiss remembered. And me along with her! Both instances had occurred in a span of mere minutes: from falling thousands of feet from the back of a Nevermore to the waiting stinger of a Death Stalker which she'd like to point out would've taken out Ruby had she not been there to save her.
That impulsive child was still talking. "I've been waiting forever for this! I wasn't supposed to attend Beacon until after I spent two more years at Signal!"
Two years you skipped while I broke my back during mine. She couldn't say the time had been wasted but she had used it to pour over the tomes that were in her father's library while ordering others that weren't. A bit of renovation created a training room where Weiss had spent under the gaze of a private trainer who refined her swordplay while another taught her how to properly harness the power of Nature's Wrath from an endless supply of Dust that was provided for her.
It was hard but she had done it right.
"So why did you come to Beacon, Weiss?" Ruby asked. "I've been wanting to talk with you but we haven't really gotten the chance."
The scarred flesh over Weiss's left eye twitched. "Ruby."
Her partner looked to her expectantly. "Yes?"
"Class is starting. Pay attention."
Ruby faced forward to see that their professor for the course had arrived. "Oh, sorry!"
Portly was certainly a word to describe Professor Peter Port as the burgundy suit he wore did little to stop the occasional jiggle of his belly that threatened to snap off the gold buttons that kept it clasped together. Weiss tried not to let such an uncouth display have her judge a man poorly as the gray of his hair and overly thick moustache and brows hinted to his advanced age. The fencer had been led to believe that the professors who attended Beacon were all Hunter who had sought to endeavor in teaching rather than spend all their time in the wilds with the Grimm so for a man like Port to grow so old spoke of great skill and experience.
Or luck, she thought dryly. She hadn't given up on that as an explanation for Ruby's presence. She just hoped that the stuffed heads that adorned the walls were really trophies of their professor's previous kills.
Still, her attention was drawn to the charts and diagrams that decorated a section behind the professor's desk that displayed hand-drawn pictures of different types of Grimm complete with annotations of notable features that each one possessed. While they were informative, Weiss was extra interested in the cage that was sitting at the far side of the room. The shadows and thin spaces between the bars made it difficult to see but she thought she could make out something moving within the gray metal of the box.
"Monsters!"
Weiss spun back to the front at that to see Port addressing the classroom with a sweep of his arm and boisterous bellow. Her intellectual nature kicking in, she retrieved a couple blank papers and a pencil to take down notes.
"Demons!" Port continued. "Prowlers of the night! Yes the creatures of Grimm have many names, but I merely refer to them as prey!" That extended arm swung around in time with a hearty, "Ha-ha!"
Ah, starting off with ineffective introductions by vainly attempting to build tension over the subject matter combined with a poorly-executed joke to lighten the mood and appear more endearing to the crowd. The reigning silence was testament to the lack of results. Seeing nothing to be gained from the lips of their teacher at the moment, Weiss concentrated on the diagrams. Her pencil started moving as she sought to copy them.
She was the only one doing so. There were no additional sounds of writing and Weiss stole glimpses of her teammates to see what they were doing. They had their own papers out but none of them were making a move to copy anything down. Weiss felt a stab of frustration. She understood that there was nothing to learn from the opening speech – Port had switched to mentioning Vale and the other three kingdoms – but there was still material that offered wisdom if they looked for it.
Whatever. They better not expect me to share my notes with them. Resuming her work, Weiss kept an ear directed towards Port in case he started talking about something more noteworthy.
"That is what you are training to become!" he finished after a pointless reminder of the duties of Huntsmen and Huntresses. "But first, a story. A tale about a young, handsome man: me!"
Weiss felt a slight recession of her shoulders as her eyelids drooped in response. She was starting to pick up on the kind of character her professor was: well-mannered but rather bombastic when it came to his own accomplishments that were becoming fond recollections. Nonetheless, she wouldn't be shocked to find them on a test so it'd be wise to listen to them.
Strangely, that was when she heard the scribbling off to her left. Blinking, the fencer looked over to see Ruby bent over her portion of their shared desk, pencil moving furiously. The optimism that came with the thought of her leader actually taking things seriously and jotting down notes died instantly. Her writing utensil was going wild on the blank sheet to the point where it seemed like she was tracing one big circle.
What is she…? Weiss tried to see what she was writing but Ruby's other arm blocked it from sight. She was about to lean over and tilt her head to peer over the obstruction until sense came over her and she focused back on Port. She was not going to let Ruby's antics distract her when it wasn't her concern.
"Despite smelling of cabbages, my grandfather was a wise man. 'Peter', he told me-"
Unfortunately, Ruby's snorting and smothered giggling made it Weiss's concern. She shot the younger girl a glare.
Ruby responded by holding up the paper to her. It wasn't blank anymore. Along with a little note of Grimm Studies Day and her name, there was a rather unflattering caricature of Professor Port that involved a body more bulbous than reality with stick figure-thin legs and arms. The face was rather accurate though.
The stink lines at the top were a clue but Weiss couldn't wrap her head around what Ruby was getting at until she read the capitalized title on the bottom: PROFESSOR POOP.
…This was Ruby Rose. This was the girl who had been selected as the leader of Team RWBY. She's supposed to lead a team of Huntresses into battle against mankind's greatest enemy that was armed with teeth, claw, talon, beak, pincer, and soulless fury.
And Weiss Schnee, heiress to Schnee Dust, was supposed to follow this child?
There came a giggle at Weiss's other side and she didn't bother twisting around to see that it was Yang who was responsible for that and probably for the sound of a fist pounding against wood. Oh, she almost forgot; they were a duo.
Unbelievable!
The audible clearing of Port's throat and narrowed hairy brows brought order to Team RWBY's desk. The unspoken reprimand and the jab against her pride had Weiss sitting up straight in her seat almost instinctively. Once again she was paying for Ruby's idiocy.
The culprit was far from dissuaded. When Port's squinting gaze was directed elsewhere, Weiss returned hers to Ruby to find another misuse of school supplies at work: the younger girl balancing a pencil on her finger which was balancing one of her textbooks.
At the head of the class, Port droned on. "The moral of this story? A true Huntsman must be honorable!"
Honor? Where was the honor in this? Weiss gritted her teeth, the hands she dropped beneath her desk curling into fists.
"A true Huntsman must be dependable!"
Depend on Ruby for what? Her grades? Her reputation? Her life? Her soul if that was truly what they expected her to do? She said it before: she and Ruby will never be compatible.
"A true Huntsman must be strategic, well-educated, and wise!"
The only stratagem that Ruby possessed was using her finger to pick at her nose.
That. Was. IT!
"So, who among you believes themselves to be the embodiment of these traits?"
Port's challenge had Weiss become conscious of how her body was shaking with the rage that was developing in the face of this grave injustice that was so obvious to her yet invisible to everyone else. Ruby Rose was not a true Huntress. She was!
Maybe that was the problem. With no hesitation, Weiss shot her hand up. "I do, sir!"
Those bushy brows rose, whether to convey surprise or delight with how Weiss answered with such vehemence she wasn't sure. They soon settled down. "Well then, let's find out!"
The elderly gentleman had been approaching the cage that Weiss spotted earlier. It had advertised little life throughout the lecture but with Port's change in proximity it suddenly started shaking. Snorts and growls emitted from within. Glowing red eyes pressed themselves against the bars to better fixate on the professor.
Unperturbed by the snarling beast, Port beckoned to Weiss. "Step forward, and face your opponent!"
She would do more than that. When Weiss sprung to her feet, it was with the intention to make one thing abundantly clear to everyone: she was the only leader that Team RWBY needed.
