Talia Clover was a prodigy.
"Again." The voice boomed from above, gravelly and commanding as it rang through the speaker system.
She wiped a drop of sweat from her brow with two fingers as the shaft of her lance tapped the concrete beneath her feet, twirling it in her right hand a few times before reentering her battle stance.
One, two, three stabs into the dummy, quick and measured strikes, chaining their way downwards with a flash of energy, finished with a sweeping blow to the head that nearly knocked it loose from its shoulders, the well-worn figure marked with dozens, if not hundreds of past wounds from training long past.
"Again." The same voice rang once more, eliciting a soft, annoyed sigh from the green-haired teen, who repeated the same motions once more, sweat continuing to bead on her forehead. Repeated attempts did not seem to have dulled her motions, brisk swings of her weapon carrying the same effect to a point bordering robotic.
"Again. Distance."
This time her weapon struck only once, embedding into the dummy's chest before her foot struck inches beneath, knocking the object back several feet as she lifted her weapon, a button on the side beginning its clunky, mechanical transformation. A few seconds later, her grip on the shaft became a tight hold on the two handles of a minigun, cold steel shifted from the heavy tip of her lance into barrels of dust-carrying power, the pull of the trigger eliciting loud, ear-ringing explosions as a steady stream of ammunition began to unload from the spinning chambers, peppering the dummy and a ten-foot radius around it with shot after shot from her steady blasts, holding the weapon's trigger down for a few seconds before satisfied with the destruction.
"Again. Close the gap."
It retracted much faster than the previous transformation, another click of a button reverting her weapon's status back into melee form, the fighter quickly lowering into a run and a forward leap, weapon reared back with one hand before swinging forward, a satisfying smash into the dummy's side that finally knocked it over, heels skidding on the ground as she spun to a halt.
"Ag-"
The voice cut itself off, a fainter feminine voice barely audibly interrupting his words. A moment passed. Two. Three.
"Break. Ten minutes."
With a sigh, Talia reached a hand upwards and removed the band from her ponytail, long, faintly curly hair settling down over her shoulders as she exited the training facility, cold air jolting her attention as she glanced down the hallway, other aspiring Huntsmen and Huntresses entering and exiting their own private rooms and paying each other similarly little mind.
There was a white-haired woman with a rapier attached to her hip. Stern. Annoyed. Across the hall, brown hair, Faunus of some sort judging by the tail, he held some sort of sword in his hand as he spoke with another, less interesting-looking. Another one of note, purple-
"Clover. Consistent as ever." The same voice that was ringing over the intercom just moments ago stood before her now, belonging to a gruff, broad man. What was his name again? It slipped her mind... Just another in a long line of instructors she'd been assigned throughout the years. The more they piled up, the less she cared about the specifics, her own opinions shoved aside long ago in favor of collecting a resume of the most skilled money could buy. Not that money had to change hands at this point, her reputation far preceding her...
"Consistency is one of the baseline fundamentals of improvement." Opting to avoid guessing his name entirely, she responded with a quiet, obedient voice. Years of practice had gifted her with the knowledge to sail through these sorts of conversations, the right words and body language second-nature when it came to dealing with authority.
"Indeed. It seems the decision to hold off on your entrance into Beacon was a wise one."
Right. She'd been told to enter sooner, two years before the average student would have. But she resisted, one of the few points she refused to push back on. Arguments that spanned weeks, if not months, her emotional arguments regarding her peers thrown on deaf ears, the saving grace of 'extra experience in order to widen the gap further' being the only idea that landed. Or maybe it was the goodwill of being so subservient in most other regards.
"So it would seem." She gave him a polite nod, one foot softly tapping the ground as she leaned against her lance, nearly as tell as her as she stood it up next to herself.
"Initiation is only three days away. You're not going to throw another surprise at us and delay once more, are you?" The man let out a jovial chuckle, eliciting a similar laugh from Talia.
"No, no. I feel I'm nearing the point where any more training against inanimate objects will only serve to lower my guard around actual opponents." A soft smile crept across her lips, as she shook her head in response. "I think it's time I match up against my peers. Not to mention the opportunity to learn from some of the greatest instructors in all of Remnant."
"Oho! You can at least pretend you've not outgrown my lessons, Clover."
"I apologize, that's not-" She was cut off by another laugh from the man, who was waving his hand to indicate he wasn't truly offended.
"No, no. I know. There's good men and women at Beacon, some of whom I've had the opportunity to work alongside in the past. Give Peter a hello from me if you're in his class, will you?"
"I will." Talia nodded, making a mental note to do so if the opportunity arose. Extra brownie points with a member of faculty wouldn't be remiss, after all.
"Well! I did not intend to take up your valuable break time. You've got..." He checked his watch, eyes darting down before rising back up to look at Talia. "...five more minutes, give or take. I'll see you back inside."
He gave her a slight bow before turning and walking back into one of the nearby rooms, presumably the one that allowed him to monitor and speak to her during her training.
Five minutes. Only five minutes to relax, a paltry amount of time between hours of rigorous, mind-numbing repetition. Something she certainly wouldn't be missing when the time finally came to head off to the Academy, even if she had training to be done there as well. There wouldn't be anyone to keep a close eye on her, not unless her parents had asked someone at Beacon. Which... wasn't wholly out of the question. Damn. Would they listen, though? Surely there were too many students for any of them to be able to give one such special treatment. Then again, if anyone was going to receive it, she'd assume it would be her.
Her decidedly less-than-relaxing thoughts were shoved aside as she heard someone call her name, breaking her from her distracted stupor as she blinked several times, looking for the source of the noise.
"...Tal? You feelin' alright? They puttin' you through too much training?" Her vision came back into focus, locking eyes with a red-haired young man who was giving her a pitying look.
"Gods, what do you think?" She visibly relaxed at the sight of him, faintly remembering that his name was Auburn. She didn't often get the chance to speak with the rest of the trainees in the facility, but she'd always found herself enjoying the conversations far more than her usual fare. She felt... relaxed. At peace when speaking with her peers, even if she didn't share much in common with them. It didn't matter what she said, or what her opinions were, which meant she didn't have to fake it. No social politics to tread lightly over.
"I think they're lucky you haven't been using them as practice instead of the dummies." Another laugh bubbled up and burst from her lips, far more genuine than the last.
"Now that's an idea! But nah, I'm only a few days away from getting out of here for good. Or... at least a few years."
"Oh shit, f'real? And you didn't even think to tell your ol' buddy Auburn? You wound me, m'lady!"
"Shut up." Still trying to stifle her laughter, sneaking a glance to make sure her instructor wasn't coming up from behind to lecture her about the audacity of having fun. "I was gonna mention it, but you know how it is. Not often I'm free to talk."
"True, true." He gave her a nod, hand resting on the weapon on his hip. Some kind of pistol, she'd never had the chance to see it in action to find out if it did anything else. "Well, shit. I was hoping for a more emotional goodbye. Somethin' like you jumping into my arms, crying about how much you'll miss me..."
Bonk. Down came her lance, lightly tapping him atop the head enough to make him flinch and nervously wave his hands in surrender. "I'm kiddin', I'm kiddin'! Geez, good thing you know your strength or I'd be out cold, huh?"
"Dead, more like." She flashed a confident smirk as she returned her weapon to its upright position, letting out a soft sigh as she did. "I guess I'll miss you. Just a little."
Far more than a little, considering he was the first real friend she'd made in... ever? As long as she could remember, anyways. He was a year younger, not yet ready to journey off to a Hunstman Academy just yet. She'd secretly been hoping he'd come to Beacon like her, but it was a childish want. It wasn't like she really knew him well, she was just desperate for a peer that anyone would do, at least as far as she told herself.
"Aww. I'll miss you too, Tal." He opened his mouth as if to say more, but a buzz over the intercom warned her that her time was soon to be up, her instructor's voice droning once more to request her presence in her arena. "...Guess that's your cue to go. See ya 'round." The pained expression on his face lasted but a moment, enough to make her wonder what he was about to say. Her hand reached out to grab his shoulder as he turned to go, but a hand on her own shoulder interrupted the attempt.
"Clover. Time to get back to work."
...Of course it was. It always was. All the work, none of the play, and that was the whole problem. She wanted to tell him to leave her alone, to let her live her life for once, to do anything but force her back into the ring. But the words would be lost on him. He only wanted to make his mark on Vale's little project, their shining beacon of a future Huntress. He couldn't have cared less about her or her opinion, and her frustrations could hardly lie with him. Better parents could've turned him away at the door to give their little girl a chance to breathe, but here she was. And here she would remain. Just a few more days. Just a few more days.
"...Right." The venom in the word almost enough to make up for all she was leaving unsaid, the girl softly sighing underneath her breath as she turned around and reentered the small, brightly-lit room.
Her footsteps felt as loud as the shots from her weapon as she slowly trudged her way back into position, feet settling on the same spots she'd been taking for what felt like her entire life. Slowly she pulled her weapon up, settling back down into her tried-and-true stance.
"Go."
The one word released her, her lance thrusting forward to poke a few new holes into a fresh training dummy, one, two, three, four this time, determination mingling with frustration as she let out her annoyance on the poor object who existed only to be bashed by people like her.
"Again."
Another set of stabs, followed with a sweeping swing and a roaring battle cry, hair covering her eyes as the wind swept across her body with each burst of movement.
"Again."
Talia Clover was a prodigy. And she'd do anything to give that title up.