Whipping tendrils of long green vines decorated the artful arbors of Beacon's courtyard. The wooden panels etched with carvings and symbols, poignant, against the grey stone of the castle walls. As usual, Ozpin was on his morning stroll. Touring the grounds, he stalked quietly around the academy checking his plants.
Ozpin was an odd fellow, there was no doubt about it. Though he was simple in some ways, he was absurd in others. He had a surprising love for gardening. He grew anything from beans to petunias. It was a hobby of his to play around with colors and cultivate fine specimen. Unfortunately, this tied in with his rather unhealthy obsession with tea.
Whether it be midnight or the crack of dawn, there was always a ready teapot. Earl grey, Oolong, Cinnamon and Pear, his love for tea spanned far and wide. His favorite brew was one that he concocted. It was a special blend of fresh lavender sprigs, honeysuckle, dried blackberries, a dash of cinnamon, a splash of vanilla, jasmine leaves and a single rose petal. A deep flowery blend with hints of earthiness. Everything straight from the school grounds.
Studying the curving branches of a yellowing yew tree, Ozpin furrowed a brow. He detested tardiness, though he was accustomed to it. Moving onward to water a springing wisteria, Ozpin noted a screech from the sky. A large black bird circled the grounds, feathers trailing languidly behind.
Ozpin let out an amused hum. He set aside the pink watering can he'd been carrying and made his way back to his study.
Swinging open the door to his study, Ozpin raised a brow.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't be returning." Ozpin mumbled, clicking his tongue.
A hearty laugh sounded from his companion, the throaty rumble dry but velvety. "I'm only back cause I'm out of booze." The dark haired man sighed, shaking an empty flask in his hand.
"Qrow, don't you dare touch the cellar. We still haven't recovered from the last episode you had."
"Eh, quit being a kill joy, Oz. Live a little, why don't you?"
Ozpin huffed a haughty sneer gracing his taunt visage.
"I will when you do your job right." He said earning a wince from Qrow.
"Always with the flattery huh." Qrow grit.
Ozpin who'd been brewing a cup of tea, set his tea spoon down on the polished glass of his desk. He raised his eyes up slightly to look at Qrow. His pupils hovering just over the edge of his spectacles, peeking from beneath.
"Fine, I got the info you wanted . It wasn't easy though." Qrow gulped, cracking his neck.
"I found her."
"Pianissimo. Be gentle and slow. Pretend... you are a lamb. You are a lamb nesting humbly on a green field. Suckling warmth from your mother's side. Be the lamb. "
Weiss cocked a brow. Her eyes narrowed sharply, her lips puckered into a thin line. Her newest music coach was an eccentric. A long limber man with a hooked nose and violet hair extensions. He called himself, Mari. Whether or not that was his actual name was a different story.
Mari was deemed a genius in the artistic realm. Renowned for his paintings and orchestral compositions, he was supposedly one of the best.
Weiss who had little to no patience as of late, felt her tolerance for the man drop increasingly with each day. She grew more and more irritated with his unprofessional schedule, bright neon clothing and most of all his pig like squeal of a laugh.
She shifted in her chair with a twitch. Tapping her toes, she tried to heed Mari's instructions. She straightened her back and took a breath. Weiss sung a string of notes. The notes rang clear as bells but were soft like a gentle caress. Singing was something she was good at, there was no doubt about it. Yet, somehow she couldn't please her vapid little coach.
"I said be a lamb. Not a backhanded teacup Yorkie-Poodle from upper Mistral." Mari huffed wrapping his yellow scarf tight in his palm.
The temperature in the room suddenly seemed to drop twenty degrees. Weiss crossed her legs in her seat. Her tall sleek heel shone increments over the marble floor. Her side ponytail bobbed slightly as she plastered a tight lipped smile. Hanging her head high, she snapped a finger.
Almost immediately, a knock sounded on the large brass door to the room. Following the knock a rather peculiar man stepped into the room. Clad in a greying suit and a bushy mustache was the Schnee family butler, Klein.
Klein bowed slightly towards Weiss. He carefully teetered a silver tray that was clasped in his hands as usual.
"Klein, be a dear and remove this man from my property." Weiss commanded without fluttering an eyelash.
"I believe he'll find solace in a nice green field... full of lambs."
Klein nodded quickly and dragged the man out of the room. Despite Klein's looks and age he was actually rather strong. Weiss, while noting the removal of a rather onerous piece of trash, also noted a very blonde figure at the door.
"Now that wasn't very nice Weiss cream." Yang chuckled, throwing herself onto a white lounge chair.
"Yang, what are you doing here?" Weiss questioned, standing from her seat.
"I'm here to watch the show, obviously. Though, I must say I'm rather disappointed.
Weiss rolled her eyes. She brushed a few strands of pale hair out of her face as she huffed.
"My apologies, as you know, I've never been too keen on theatrics. I'm afraid it's more your style to punch him out the window."
Yang guffawed, her hearty laugh filling the room.
"Right you are princess. Right you are." She smirked, lifting herself onto her feet. She stretched leisurely, cracking her knuckles and loosening her arms.
"Come on Creamsicle. No time to dilly dally." Yang smiled haughtily, her eyes glinting mischievously.
"And why ever not?" Weiss trilled.
"Because... we have a new job."