Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY in any way. I claim no expertise in matters of family wealth, German history, or social matters between high school girls. I'm making most of this up as I go along.
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According to her father, the Schnee family originated in the mountain ranges of Northern Germany. They were supposedly a legendary family of woodcutters, able to make anything from a fancy log cabin to a pair of wooden shoes with ease. After a long time, they moved down to the valley and began working in the blacksmith trade. Over the years they became known as the best metalworkers in all of Germany, and then all of Europe. It was a family legacy that was maintained to this very day with the Schnee Manufacturing Company, makers of the finest military vehicles and armaments in the world.
She had heard this story her whole life. Frankly, she was sick of it.
The only reason she had gotten herself signed into this dismal excuse of a school was to piss off her old man, and boy did that work. However, according to the family traditions (which the man simply would not defy), Weiss was old enough to make her own decisions. As much as it pained him to think of his own flesh and blood settling for a mediocre existence, he had no say in the matter. Weiss Schnee was going to Oum High School whether he liked it or not.
They did reach a compromise, though, in which he would not fight her any longer if she agreed to a single request: to continue working on her painting. It was the one passion they both loved and he truly wanted her to excel in it. She agreed to that term, making sure to apply to the school's art program. And now, in her sophomore year, Weiss was about to take a normal high school art class.
What's the worst that could happen?
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Weiss Schnee walked into Oum High wearing a white button-up shirt over a light blue sleeveless blouse (with matching pumps) and a pair of Capri-length khaki pants. Her platinum blonde hair was done up in a simple ponytail high up on her head. Instead of the normal backpack like the other students used, Weiss had her belongings in a leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder.
As she waited in line for her schedule, she checked her wristwatch. Fortunately for her, the young Schnee had already done her research on the school and it's layout – all she needed was the room numbers and she could find her way around without a map.
First period: math. God what a bore. Weiss instantly noticed that only a handful of the kids in the class were actually paying attention to the lesson – the others were either falling asleep or staring at the teacher's boobs. She couldn't really blame them for that, since the woman had her shirt unbuttoned a bit too far for decent taste. She would never admit it (unless she felt like it), but Weiss had also gotten a good look at the expansive cleavage. Ms. Goodwitch was a beautiful woman, after all.
Second period: world history. If not for her father's influence, Weiss would have actually enjoyed this class. As it was, learning the tales of other countries was quite low on her list of priorities. At least Doctor Oobleck was fun to watch. She wondered what sort of child would color her own father's hair such a sickly shade of green, especially if she knew he wouldn't wash it out at the first opportunity. On that note, what kind of dad leaves the color in? They must have an …interesting home life.
This led her to think of her own siblings. Her older sister, Winter Schnee, was currently enlisted in the Navy as a Chief Petty Officer. She was several years older than Weiss, but they chatted every chance they got. They were very close before she first shipped off, and Weiss always missed her. Whitley Schnee, Weiss' younger brother, was currently in the 7th grade. The two of them …didn't really get along, actually. Not much else to tell. Her mother and father lived in their large, uptown mansion (although they called it a 'house') which was taken care of by a squad of seven maids and one butler.
The other classes of the day blurred together somewhat for the teen. Nearly all of them were either boring or …well, more boring. Professor Port, the science teacher, was a gifted storyteller and experienced big game hunter, but he tended to get lost in his own stories and forget to actually teach the class about the biology of the animals he was bragging about crushing with his bare hands. Mr. Torchwick didn't seem to know much about social studies, but he was probably the most interesting man Weiss had ever heard. The only problem was that he could never stay on one subject for long and ended up losing most of the students as he spoke.
By the last period, Weiss was drained of energy. The fact that the entire school was painted in such a dismal, monochrome gray was enough to crush her spirit all by itself. The large lighthouse building, fake thought it may be, at least added a point of interest to the campus.
The final class of the day was sure to help lift her mood since it would give her what she needed most right then: She needed color.
Weiss had always loved painting, mostly due to her mother's influence. The woman often took the young Schnee to opulent art museums and grand halls lined with uncountable masterpieces from the greatest talents in history. They both loved it all – though Weiss only grew to love it because her mother was so enamored by it. Her father, Jacques, had been a skilled painter in his prime (possibly what got them together? Weiss could only guess). Once the girl expressed even a slight interest, the old man immediately set out to get her the best teachers money could buy. It was one of the only times Weiss was grateful to be part of a rich family.
The problem was that all of the teachers he hired were only there to do one thing: teach her how to paint their way. That was not what she wanted.
As Weiss quietly walked along the busy hallway of the school, careful to avoid bumping the other students, she reflected on all of this. She also thought of all she had learned about the medium; the different types of paints, the brushes, the canvas, easels, blending techniques… for a kid in high school, knowing this much was certainly rare. She grinned as she stopped in front of the door, room 217, hoping her rather advanced skills would let her climb the social ladder quickly.
If there was one thing she made sure to keep as a Schnee, it was her pride.
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The first thing she noticed was that she was one of the last students to arrive. Not the last, but close enough. She counted over a dozen kids, mostly girls by the looks of it, all sitting in a U-shape formation of desks. The room was mostly a clean white with the occasional pop of purple and yellow in the decor (the cabinets and curtains, specifically). But it was so much nicer in here than outside, mainly due to the air conditioning – it was still late summer conditions and rather muggy. Hair-murdering weather, as her sister once said.
There was no teacher in sight, which meant no seating chart. Weiss was already annoyed by that… and she hadn't even sat down yet. She quickly remedied that issue as she took the chair next to a shorter teen with unusually dark red hair that was cut short in the back. The girl seemed to tense up when Weiss sat down, but the older teen ignored her as she studied the room.
She spotted a decent collection of pre-stapled canvas panels in the corner, as well as the sizable collection of acrylic paints on the supply shelf. This, of course, caused her to grin slightly. She could only hope the other essentials were tucked away in the cabinets, since she couldn't see anything else sitting out. The round box in the middle of the open space was obviously a stage for their art models, and Weiss could barely wait to see what sort of things she would be working on. Flowers? Common objects, like a backpack? Or maybe… a person? She almost shivered with anticipation.
Before long, though, she was simply aggravated, growling, "Okay this is officially ridiculous. Are we just going to sit here all period?" No matter what kind of pay the teachers of a run-down place like this might receive, it was no excuse for showing up almost fifteen minutes late! There were supposed to be rules to society, were there not? Weiss looked around the room, hoping to spot anyone who would agree with her.
One girl nodded, and her …rather unique bang of brown hair bobbed a bit with the movement, "I guess we just do study hall for now." The other kids in the room simply nodded as well, pulling out various books or magazines to pass the time. It was nice that no one was eager to start up a conversation, which kept it much more peaceful in the room. The only problem was that it wasn't supposed to be this quiet. They were supposed to be working on something.
To keep herself from glaring at anyone, Weiss pulled out a book from her bag and… 'pretended' to read from it. She really couldn't focus on it, though.
Her thoughts drifted to what she had read about their art teacher, a woman named Cinder Fall. She was supposed to be one of the top-ranked art instructors on the east coast, as well as a professional critic, but now she was …somehow reduced to the level of a high school art teacher?! It was a change that the young Schnee simply could not wrap her brain around. Ms. Fall was also one of the only art teachers her father did not manage to hire as a private tutor… which immediately put her on Weiss' radar. It took serious guts to refuse a Schnee job and she really wanted to know what kind of woman would do that.
She barely noticed when the door opened and a gruff-looking man shuffled in. He was instantly offering excuses, but all Weiss had to know was that this was definitely not Cinder Fall.
"Sorry I'm late," the man said, "they called me in a bit …last minute." There was a clear tone of anger in his last words, and Weiss briefly wondered who… 'they' were. "Your real teacher, Ms. Fall, had to run to the hospital for a family emergency. So you're stuck with me for now."
All Weiss could see when she looked at the man was a drunkard who had just sobered up that morning and thrown on his best clothes… assuming they were actually his. He could have passed for a homeless guy with no trouble.
Damn. So the first day of school and I get a substitute teacher. And for THIS class, of all classes! Weiss could barely contain her disappointment. Why me?
"My name's Qrow Spelled With A 'Q'. I'll be your substitute for the next …eh, little while." Weiss bit back a sarcastic comment as the man slowly walked over to the corner of the room, grabbed a fake potted plant, and roughly sat it on the little stage in the middle of the desks. The teen got a sudden, sinking feeling.
"This is an art class, right?" He pointed to the plant, "So, uh… draw that." He began walking back to the desk saying, "I don't care if it's just a scribble… draw something, put your name on it, and put it on the desk before the day's out. That's all they need from me, anyway," he shrugged.
Weiss was already a bit pale, but this news threatened to make her go pure white. Draw? As in, pencil and paper? She knew such a thing would be possible as the class was called Art-1… not 'painting-1.' She knew there would be other artistic mediums to work with… but this was rather sudden, wasn't it? Simple drawing was not her strong suit, and she sat frozen as the man called Qrow …somehow fell asleep in the teacher's chair.
Maybe he wasn't as sober as she first thought…
Suddenly the girl with the red hair stood up and walked over to the supply shelf. Weiss could instantly sense a change in her attitude – the tension was gone from both the redhead and, after a few moments, from the rest of the class as well. It was rather remarkable, actually. The young Schnee stood up with the others, seemingly compelled to follow the girls' lead.
Before she knew it, there was a piece of paper and a number 2 pencil sitting on the desk before her. Normally this was the part of the event where her brain would just lock up. She was used to paintbrushes and long, wide strokes of color over an expanse of smooth canvas – not scribbling with a pointed stick. She always felt a bit like a caveman whenever she tried it… but then she looked over at the redhead and her breath caught.
There was no mistaking that pose, that expression. This girl was in The Zone.
Anyone who has had the unique experience of making something, whether by drawing or painting a picture, building a model kit, or even writing a story, has experienced The Zone …the pure focus of mind in which there can be no distractions. There is only the work before you, nothing else.
The redhead was definitely there now – and Weiss clearly saw a talent in the way her fingers worked that little shaft of wood and graphite. She was actually reminded of how she worked with her paintbrushes…
Remembering her Schnee pride, Weiss set about scratching out a reasonable facsimile of the bundle of painted plastic plant leaves before her. It wasn't good… but it was the best she could do under such strenuous time constraints. No one could accuse her of wasting her time or not trying. She grinned a bit as she examined it, unhappy with the unavoidable gray-scale but satisfied with the overall result none the less. She had seen a few other drawings by students her age, but none of what she saw could come close to what she produced… at least that was how she felt at that moment.
But then she looked over at the redhead's picture and her cherished pride nearly shattered. The girl's drawing was flawless. From where she sat, Weiss could not find a single thing to criticize about it – the proportions were perfect, the shading was spot-on… it put her chicken scratch to shame. The only thing that saved her work from the scrap heap was the knowledge that it was just a drawing… of course there would be several people who were better than she was. It was only natural. It was still irritating as hell, but there was nothing she could do about it.
Then she also remembered that it was the assignment for the day. She quickly slapped her paper on the teacher's desk so she didn't have to look at it anymore.
For the last few minutes of class she simply sat and watched in awe as the redheaded girl just …kept on drawing! Good god, what more could she do?!
The girl only stopped when the bell actually rang, scrambling over to the teacher's desk and placing her paper with the others before grabbing her bookbag and heading out the door in a huff. She seemed annoyed, but whether it was at the assignment or being forced to stop, Weiss could not tell.
As the heavy door closed with a sigh (thanks to the hydraulic mechanism at the top) Weiss could only stare at it, her mind whirling with new emotions.
That girl was definitely younger than herself, most likely a freshman, yet her technique was …almost that of a master. She must have been drawing for most of her life to have such a skill level. The young Schnee felt a sensation not unlike admiration beginning to form within her chest… it certainly wasn't the same as with her own paintings, but it was good to know that she wasn't completely surrounded by total amateurs.
Her thoughts drifted to her father and his many tutors next, and how most of them had mentioned the subject of a rival… and how competition was the single greatest factor in advancing your own technique. While Weiss didn't see a concrete connection between this redhead's drawing skills and her own paintings, she did understand that the girl had the potential to help her grow in ways she may never have considered before.
As she picked up her own bag to head home, Weiss thought, You know, …I need to remember to ask for her name tomorrow...
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Story Note: While the main ship of the story will still be WhiteRose, I have every intention of following a few other ships along the way. I'll try to keep any POV changes as clean as possible so you don't get too lost.
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