With the release of this chapter, Beacon submissions are officially CLOSED! You can only send for Shade, Atlas and Haven now, so if I see Beacon anywhere other than fourth place on the preferred schools for new senders, don't expect exceptions. On the topic of exceptions, 90% of submissions were early admissions. So I'm taking liberties with ages and if your character was 15/16 and is now 17, it's because someone else was more likely to have an early admission compared to them. Them's the breaks.
That said, I hope you enjoy! We'll be doing some extra chapters for initiation and stuff, and then moving on to the next school that has all of its slots filled! I won't be listing the full submissions/teams until the initiation is over, so feel free to speculate who is on a team with who if you want!
II.
Beacon: First Impressions
"I see someone is having fun."
Almost as soon as Raven approached, dryness in her tone and arms crossed over her chest, the girls Qrow had been talking to scattered. Raven had a presence to her that sent people away with just a glance, and it seemed the hopeful Huntresses at Beacon were no exception to such a force. Qrow let out a long, tired sigh, and turned back to his sister with his best wry smile.
"Well, while we're here…" he drawled. Raven clicked her tongue at him. "Oh, c'mon, I'm blending in."
"You're standing out," she corrected him. Around them, other students were mingling in their pyjamas and already forming biases for their teams. Neither Raven nor Qrow knew how teams would be formed, but Qrow could assume someone like Ozpin wouldn't make it as easy as it sounded on paper.
"Is it so bad that I wanna have a little fun while I'm here?" Qrow scoffed. He gave the others around them a cursory glance, taking in the stereotypes surrounding them and the lone wolves who clearly had lofty, holier than thou goals that Qrow and Raven couldn't possibly relate to. Everyone here was either one-track minded or too goody-goody to even notice something amiss with their classmates. Qrow would even bet whatever team he got put on would never notice that one day bandits suddenly knew how to fight the Huntsmen they so desperately tried to emulate. "Think about it—we might pick up a few tricks from the new generation rather than the Huntsmen of old."
Red eyes rolled so hard they may as well have left orbit. "Well now you're just saying that to cover your ass," she grumbled. Qrow shrugged, neither denying nor admitting to it, and turned on his heel. He was taking this seriously—just not as seriously as Raven tended to sometimes. It wasn't like the twins were special; if someone else had been their age, if they'd just been a little too old or young, then it wouldn't be them attending Beacon and learning how to fight both Grimm and Huntsmen. It wasn't that difficult a concept.
That was the end of that conversation, though. Raven didn't pursue Qrow, glowering instead, and Qrow left in favour of chasing more skirts. Or pyjama shorts, he told himself. Shorts like the pair that boldly declared JUICY on the rear, its owner with hair so fluffy Qrow swore it was some kind of marshmallow swirl. He let out an interested hum, already moving in for the kill—but then she was tucking her gloves into a bag, and from the bag spilled dust shells.
No sooner had they rolled out of her reach, a goat Faunus scooped some up. Dark hair more akin to a mane of black shag, the left side shaved into an undercut. If not for the very prominent, yet solitary horn on one side of her head, he'd have sworn the misshapen left eye she had was a Faunus trait; it looked so much like a goat's, pupil blown out too noticeably for even Qrow to miss at this distance. The Faunus girl gave the marshmallow a charming smile, kneeling a short distance from her, and she looked over the dust shells in her hand almost lazily.
"You've dropped these, Miss…" The goat paused for a moment, looking the marshmallow up and down. "Juicy."
Miss Juicy wordlessly stuck her hand out, clearly pissed off by the nickname and demanding her things back. The goat chuckled, inching closer, and waved her other hand dismissively. "I jest, I jest," she went on.
"Yes, well," Miss Juicy said, her dry tone eerily similar to Raven's own. Qrow was almost doing a double-take, if not for the complete opposite hair colour and length. "I'm not one for jests."
"What a shame," the goat said, feigning disappointment. "I'll have to work a little harder to get a laugh out of you, then."
"I'd rather you didn't."
Qrow watched as the dust shells were dropped gently into the outstretched hand, and his gaze flitted to one small gravity shell behind Miss Juicy. One she and the goat had missed. Opportunity spotted.
"Does Miss Juicy have a name, at least?" the goat drawled, not quite leaving yet.
A belligerent sigh, and then, "Marza."
"I see, Marza. I'm Calluna—Calluna Oldspell. A name I entreat you to remember for a week, or perhaps, if I'm lucky, two?"
Marza let out a distracted, "Uh-huh," as she sifted through the shells. She noticed one missing, and as soon as she did Qrow swooped in.
One gloveless hand reached behind her, for where the gravity shell was, and as soon as her palm landed on it Qrow happened to reach for the shell at the same time. Classic move, but it never got old. The tanned girl jumped, startled, and both she and Calluna were whirling around to look at Qrow.
"Sorry," Qrow said quickly, but he didn't pull his hand back. Instead, he gave Marza a charming smile and nodded to her in greeting. When her hand tried to pull back, the colour draining from her face, Qrow grasped it between his own and pretended to examine it like he was an appraiser. "Amazing how such calloused hands still look so delicate up close. You must be something else altogether in a fight."
Calluna raised her brows at Qrow, glancing between him and Marza. Marza, on the other hand, was quickly covering her mouth with the back of her other hand—still clutching the shells with white knuckles and wide eyes.
"Name's Qrow," he went on, oblivious to how uncomfortable she looked. "And I gotta say, if this is you during your downtime, I'd love to see what you can do when you get serious."
"You're quite the dandy," Calluna told him. Qrow, still holding on to Marza's hand, gave Calluna yet another charming smile.
"I consider myself more of a—"
There was a loud retching sound, and as soon as it happened Marza tore her hand from Qrow's grip. When he looked back at her, brows raised and charming smile replaced with a confused purse of his lips, the girl's tanned skin had lost all colour and a thin layer of sweat had broken out across her forehead. Qrow almost managed to ask what was wrong—and then she heaved, projectile vomiting all over him.
It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to land on Qrow and make Calluna inch away out of the splash zone. And when Marza was done, she was huddling back onto her sleeping bag with heavy, shallow breaths. When she looked up from the puddle on the ground and all over Qrow, she wasn't uncomfortable; she was closer to angry, if a little livid. It didn't take a genius to recognise that the classic move had just gotten old in this very moment.
"Don't," Marza heaved, still catching her breath, "touch me."
The silence that followed was enough to make Qrow sweat. It wasn't just himself and Calluna witnessing this with their lips sealed, but those in the close vicinity as well. From a short distance away, Qrow could even hear Raven laughing to herself and muttering that he deserved it. Qrow sucked in a deep breath—ignoring the smell of bile all over him—and gave Marza a more relaxed, dull expression.
"Noted," he said quickly.
The goat gave him an almost smug look. Qrow just returned it with his same dull expression, more than aware of what her smugness conveyed: I take the lead by virtue of not making her throw up.
He barely looked up from his game to witness the spectacle of vomit and souls ascending, only to go back to his game with a bored stare. With a combo under his belt, clearing his current level with a perfect score, he quickly saved his progress and set aside the scroll for a quick snack break. Almer reached into his bag—the small bag he brought with him, not stashed with his others in the locker—and searched around for the packet of candy he'd packed. But when he saw it wasn't there, the whole bag missing and only a single empty wrapper left behind, Almer shot up from his sleeping bag and snatched the bag off of the floor.
As the puke party died down nearby, Almer shook his bag like he was searching for spare change. No plastic crinkling, no clattering of hard candies on the ground. He swore he packed candy, where the hell did it—
From the sleeping bag beside his own, the telltale crinkling he was looking for sounded out. Almer dropped the bag, slowly turning to face his neighbour, and to his horror he saw his candy.
His half-eaten candy, all the good flavours consumed.
The silver-eyed girl next to him sat innocently as she crunched down on another piece of hard candy—that was so not how she was supposed to eat these things, he thought idly—and she didn't even seem to notice that Almer was aware of her thievery. But she was aware of him staring at her, and she turned to face him with a big smile on her face as she held out the bag of candy.
"Want some? I found 'em before I sat down—they're all fruity."
Almer sucked in a deep breath. So she was just dense. Okay.
"In this bag?" he asked her, holding up his small bag. She nodded fervently, unaware of what he was getting at. So when Almer opened the bag and pulled out a small ID tag and showed her, he deadpanned, "With my name on it?"
That made her pause. One second she was chewing loudly on hard candy, and the next she was a statue herself. He could see the gears moving in her head, the pieces coming together; and then she was blushing, her only movement being the sudden drop of the candy from her hands.
"Before you freak out," Almer sighed, "I don't mind sharing. But damn, don't chew so hard on them. What if these were jawbreakers? Hard candy is made to last."
The silver-eyed girl was as red as the strawberry-flavoured candies, and she was hurriedly working her jaw to rid herself of the candy she still had to eat. She didn't seem to listen to his warning about the jawbreakers, and within a minute she was swallowing the hard shards of candy and wailing her apologies at him.
Almer lifted his hands, bag of candy forgotten, and with a blank face he planted the hands on her shoulders. She was quiet enough in her surprise for him to tell her, flatly, "Stop freaking out."
The command was enough to actually make her stop. She gave him a pitiful stare, like a puppy caught doing the wrong thing, and Almer just sighed at the sight of her. Dumb, but well-meaning, it seemed. He really couldn't get mad over this. That'd be a waste of energy.
He picked up the bag of candy and offered it to her, this time telling her, "If you like sour stuff, the orange and yellow ones are your best bet. Everything else is sweet—ah, except for the dark purple ones. I can't get a read on how the blackcurrent is supposed to taste."
"I'm sorry I took them without asking," the girl whined. She reached in and grabbed an orange candy, but this time she wasn't as eager to scarf it down. "I should… work on that."
Almer shrugged. "Everyone has a thing," he said. She gave him a pout, probably frustrated that he wasn't angrier at her for stealing, but he was already over it. He had the candy back, and he wasn't going to be running around with way too much in the morning. If anything, she gave him a lighter load to cart around. "I'm Almer, by the way. I think you can gather I like sweets."
Through her pout and the slow consumption of the offered candy, the silver-eyed girl mumbled, "Summer."
"Nice to meet you, Summer." He plopped a red candy into his mouth and leaned back onto his sleeping back, scroll back in his hands and game unpaused. Almer didn't take much time to get back into his game, selecting his usual avatar for the next level, and he sped through the pre-level dialogue as if nothing even happened earlier.
He probably would've forgotten Summer had done anything if Summer didn't inch closer and ask, "What are you playing?"
Almer would've answered her, skipping the dialogue so he could pause, but as soon as he skipped a small window opened up. 'Player hartG challenges you to a battle.' Almer raised his brows. He'd set his challenge requests to those nearby, if only to see who played among the student body, but he wasn't expecting to actually get battle requests. He sat up and lowered his scroll, scanning the students around him and Summer for anyone on their scrolls. One guy clearly texting someone, one girl drawing on the scroll—and then he locked eyes with a burly girl, seemingly searching just like he was. Her tanned face lit up upon catching sight of him, and she wasted no time getting up from her sleeping bag to join Almer and Summer.
"Hey!" the girl greeted them as she plopped down next to Summer. Summer was practically dwarfed by her, both in height and build. "I was beginning to think no one else here played Semblance Calibur."
Almer raised a brow. He looked down at his screen, then at the girl. "hartG?" he asked slowly.
"And you're Orange." She grinned at him. "It's been a while since I've played against someone who isn't my brother—think you can go easy on me if you accept?"
He looked her up and down. Then he looked at his screen. "Who do you main?"
"Sussing me out already?" She laughed and wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. "I was gonna suggest we fight with custom avatars. But I normally pick Ivy—the jiggle physics are ridiculously distracting to people I challenge."
Oh, a sneaky one. Almer gave her a grin and sat up, and with a glance to Summer he asked the girl, "Got a favourite kind of candy?"
Summer held out the bag immediately, brightening at the third member of their little group joining. The girl reached in with a large hand and pulled out a green candy with a delicate pinch of her fingers.
"My brother loves these ones," she said. "I swear he'd be too fat to outrun Grimm if he didn't have his freakish metabolism."
"They're good," Summer agreed. "I'm Summer, by the way. And Orange over here is Almer."
"Gretchen," the girl replied. And with a playful glint in her eyes, she turned back to Almer and pulled up her custom avatar. "Think you can handle this?"
Almer didn't even have to think about his answer. "Bring it, Gretchen."
"Incredible," he marveled. His hands stroked at her wings softly, taking the utmost care as he admired the limbs. "And they're fully functional?"
Nyx pursed her lips together and tried not to pout as she hugged her knees tightly to her chest. "A little," she mumbled. "I never really got much practice. Can glide, though."
The boy with grey hair and pink eyes just let out even more oohs and ahs. She didn't see what was so amazing about them, but… She supposed humans found anything weird interesting.
"They'd look so gorgeous with jewellery on them," he went on. He was stroking her primary feathers, almost thinking carefully about the types of jewellery that would suit Nyx's wings best. "I'd say… something silver. And darker blue gems—oh! And some sheer fabric over the top to give the wings a shimmery look!"
"I'm sure some shimmery wings are perfect for combat," Nyx drawled. She ruffled her feathers and the boy let go of them in an instant. At least he knew when he outstayed his welcome. But he didn't make any moves to leave, instead shuffling around until he was back to sitting in front of her.
"You're right," he admitted, laughing nervously. "Still—who doesn't want to be pretty once in a while? Fame is nothing without showmanship."
Showmanship? Who cared about that stuff? Or fame? Nyx frowned at him, wondering if that was all he was concerned about. Huntsmen and Huntresses were famous, sure, but they weren't just celebrities. Did he only expect the celebrity treatment without having to fight Grimm and bandits, or…?
The grey-haired boy waved a dismissive hand at his own sentence, shaking his head as though reading Nyx's mind. "Ah, don't mind me. It's a habit in my family—thinking about the more artistic side of things, I mean."
"Uh-huh…" She gave him a once-over, a proper one this time, and paid close mind to his ensemble. It all looked handmade, but not sloppily so. If anything, it looked designer and like something royalty would wear on their casual days. She gave the boy a single, raised brow and went on, "And your family are…?"
"Oh, we're not that big—but my family are the Valentines, since you asked," he told her. "I'm Silver. We're all over the place in the arts—fashion, music, acting, you name it!"
That explained the handmade clothes and need to pretty things up. Nyx rolled her shoulders and let her wings stretch a bit. "Do you guys count food in the arts?"
Silver blinked at her. "Not that I'm aware of, no."
"Shame. I could've told you about this amazing cafe in Vale once teams are decided." Her tone was mildly playful—a bit of confidence bursting forth alongside her wit—and she gave him a rueful smile when his eyes began to glimmer with interest. "I could be biased, though. It is my grandpa's cafe."
Silver was in her face and beaming. "Say no more! A cafe is the perfect place for someone in the arts to haunt! The smell of coffee, the white noise, the little corners with the barest of light shining through the window and bathing one in its warmth—your grandfather's cafe is practically heaven for people like me!"
Wow, he was enthusiastic. Nyx had to inch backwards to make sure he didn't crowd her with his hype, though she wound up crossing over to the sleeping bag nearby and bumping the occupant's foot as she did so. Nyx flinched, quickly mumbling, "Sorry," when the foot flinched back as well.
The girl on the bag, taller than Nyx by a few inches, just looked up from her scroll and stared at Nyx for a moment. Even Silver was following, posing himself on his stomach beside Nyx like a girl at a sleepover baiting for gossip. Good Lord, this onlooker was just dragged into the mix.
Long grey hair was fixed as she pushed the flat bangs out of her eyes, and Silver wasted no time in greeting her as soon as Nyx was out of his immediate line of sight.
"Good evening!" he all but sang, chipper as ever. Nyx glanced between the two, wondering how much worse this interaction will go compared to Silver's rather handsy greeting of Nyx. At least this girl didn't have a trait for him to fawn over without warning, but she seemed a bit more difficult to crack compared to Nyx. "Did you hear what, ah—" He gave Nyx a look, and she whispered her name to him flatly. "—what Nyx said? About the cafe?"
Dark brown eyes gave the duo level stares. Slowly the girl nodded her head.
"I had the best idea just now," Silver went on. "We're doing something tomorrow, right? Like, the rumours are too juicy to not be true? So what if we all go to Nyx's grandpa's cafe when classes are over? You said it's in Vale, and I'm sure the headmaster will let us go before classes officially start."
"What—" Nyx blinked, wings slightly unfurling from surprise as her feathers ruffled.
"It'll be a welcoming party for ourselves!" Silver went on. "And if we ever want time to chill, we can stop by—oh! Or even work part time, if he accepts people like that! Making a pretty piece of foam art is still art, you know. I'd kill to learn how to make a giant cat head out of coffee foam."
Nyx gave Silver a flat glare. "It's not all about coffee in a cafe," she scoffed. Silver gave her a stunned look, like he actually forgot cafes provided more than blended, liquid coffee beans for people who had a taste for the stuff. "There's tea, milkshakes, cakes—and not all of them are sweet. The flavours would be bland if he stuck to one type and he wouldn't get customers."
"What kinds of tea?"
Nyx jumped, startled. She looked back at the grey-haired girl; from the looks of her now interested expression, she'd been the one to ask. Nyx pursed her lips and ran a hand through her own hair, catching a rather pleased smile from Silver as she looked away from the girl. It was a smile that bragged how good he was at fishing people into his schemes.
"W—Well, the basics of course," she mumbled. "And some home blends. I think he wants to try make chilli tea to go with the chocolate—"
"He does chilli chocolate?"
More interest now. Nyx was going to smack Silver if he said a single word about his plan coming to life. "Yeah—cake, tart, slices. He alternates each week."
The girl let out a flat hum. She looked back down at her scroll, still curled away from Nyx and Silver, and her expression returned to its previously flat state.
"I'll think about joining," she said, aiming her statement to Silver.
"And who will I be checking back with tomorrow?" Silver prompted her.
"Oh." It seemed like Silver wasn't the only one who forgot basic things in the heat of the moment. "Liath. I'll find you."
Silver was up on his feet as soon as Liath answered him. His arms were crossed over his chest, one hand with two fingers raised and the other with just one. He announced with a wink at Nyx, "That's two 'yes' and one 'maybe'! I'll let you know tomorrow how many are joining us!"
And with that he was off, presumably to ask other people if they wanted to celebrate just… getting into Beacon. Nyx flopped face-first onto her sleeping bag, groaning out loud with no concern if Silver heard. He was… a lot. She almost wanted to send word to her grandpa and just tell him to close shop early tomorrow, but that wouldn't be fair to him. But then again, neither was inviting a bunch of rowdy teens to the cafe.
Ugh, why was he so much to handle at once? She just met him and already he was counting her among the 'yes' portion of his celebration.
Nyx rolled her head to the side, staring past Liath and at the large clock hanging over the ballroom entrance. It was barely even lights out and she was already exhausted.
"I wouldn't lose sleep over it."
She blinked, only recognising Liath's voice when she caught the girl glancing at her. "Everyone processes their accomplishments differently," Liath went on. "This is probably how he does it."
Nyx frowned. She closed her eyes and sighed. "Maybe," she agreed. "You don't have to come tomorrow, by the way. I don't want you to feel pressured—"
"I haven't had chilli and chocolate cake in a while."
Nyx's eyes opened a sliver. When she caught sight of Liath, she seemed… almost like she was looking forward to the dessert.
"I'll come," Liath told her. "It's good that the cafe doesn't stick to just sweet flavours. Hard to find a place like that for downtime."
She glanced down at Nyx again, and this time she was actually smiling softly. Nyx did her best to smile back. At least she could consider this a silver lining for the cafe—Silver did say he wanted to learn, and her grandpa could do with some part-timers aside from herself. Not to mention, the spike in young customers would do wonders for the business.
Nyx huffed a laugh and closed her eyes again, meeting Liath's smile properly with her reassurances. "I'll keep it a secret from Silver so you can get a headstart."
If she went by the talleys… Yes, this put her at a half-point lead so far. Everyone who didn't bother was in last place, Qrow trailing ahead feebly, and Taiyang breezing past—which left Calluna mere inches ahead of Taiyang in the race. If she kept up her pace, she was sure to outrun him in this marathon and snag her first conquest, long before anyone else this semester.
Miss Juicy was the perfect stallion to tame. Wait, no. That wasn't the right metaphor. Calluna wouldn't call her a target, per se, but—oh! A summit to climb!
She'd work on the metaphors when she wasn't crunching numbers on the talleys.
"So we know physical contact is an immediate penalty by means of vomit," Calluna told Taiyang. The blond nodded, arms crossed over his chest as he listened to her. "We also know the cheesiest of cheese has no effect and just sets us back further."
"In her defense," Taiyang cut in, "the guy called her hands all sorts of things I'm pretty sure most girls don't like hearing."
"Valid." Calluna gave that area a tentative mark next to it in her mind. "I had some success getting a name by referring to her by the words on her clothes."
"Juicy," Taiyang agreed. "A bold move. I'll give you that one—she ignored me entirely when I tried to get her name."
"Which I still think should be a full point in my favour," Calluna shot back at him. Taiyang shook his head, ready to jump back into his argument that she lost a point for not swooping in first like he had—but he faltered almost immediately, staring past Calluna altogether. Calluna frowned at him, tried following his gaze, but all she could find was a tall girl and a shorter, hooded girl hiding behind her. "See someone familiar? A competitor?"
Taiyang was quick to snap out of his stare, blinking quickly. He rubbed the back of his neck and let a small blush coat his cheeks, embarrassed by his slight lapse just now. Whoever he'd seen, he seemed excited by the idea of them being here.
"Nothing, nothing," he assured Calluna. "It's dumb. I see red hair and I think the Shadow Monarch is here."
The what?
Calluna's confused furrowing of her brows was enough to make him grab her shoulders and shake her in disbelief. "The tournament champ? She's, like, crazy in a fight. You don't know the Shadow Monarch?"
"I… do not recall hearing of someone by that moniker."
Taiyang let go of her shoulders and ran his hands down his face. "Oh my God, she's so cool," he gushed. "Like, she was in this one fight—almost got knocked out of the arena, everyone thought she'd be dethroned—and then she was all wham! And all these like—not Grimm, but also not-not Grimm came out of nowhere, and she just mopped the floor with the guy! I always wanted to see those matches live, but they cost a fortune to attend."
Calluna had to collect her thoughts for a minute. "Not Grimm," she said slowly, repeating his words back at him, "but also not-not Grimm?"
He just gave her an excited, manic grin. "Right? It sounds so weird, right?"
Uh-huh… He wasn't giving her much to go on with his hyperactive rambling. "Tell me, Tai," she drawled. "If the Shadow Monarch were attending Beacon, what would you do?"
The scoff he gave was so offended that even Calluna had to put a hand to her chest, wondering if she'd legitimately said something wrong. But Taiyang just cracked his knuckles and said matter-of-factly, "I'd challenge her to a fight, obviously! I wanna see how I hold up to that Semblance of her's. It's almost like fighting the real deal, but in a controlled environment. Think of the power I'd have by the time I'd beat her."
Even with his rambling, his idealistic dream, Calluna couldn't help the interested hum she let out when he mentioned how powerful he'd be if he could beat the Shadow Monarch. It was tempting, something right up her alley—and if this Shadow Monarch were at Beacon, if Taiyang hadn't been mistaken, perhaps it would do Calluna some good to seek her out. Stealing both Marza and the Shadow Monarch would be the ultimate victory against Taiyang, and he'd probably bow down at the sight of her sheer conquesting ability when she did.
That would be if she got to the Shadow Monarch and Marza first, she reminded herself. If he was as big a fan as he seemed to be, he already had a lead on that part of the race—even if he didn't know it yet. Calluna regarded him with a thoughtful stare, pondering her next course of action. Perhaps… If she duped him into helping her? Yes, that could work. Ask him more about the Shadow Monarch, approach all the redheads she found, and profit. In between, make a few moves on some others to plant the seeds of desire, and perhaps she'd be able to keep her lead for the whole year.
Perhaps, came that nagging thought again. It wasn't just herself and Taiyang in the race; Qrow had made a pathetic attempt, but it was an attempt nonetheless. Who knew how many he'd steal from under her nose if she ignored him entirely?
Whatever the outcome of this semester, she supposed she was here to become a Huntress. If she had to fall behind in this first year, then so be it; honing her other skills would just allow her to catch her second wind towards the end and stand a fair chance one more.
A solid plan. Ish.
Climb the mountain that was the Shadow Monarch, and maybe while she was at it nail the art that was Miss Juicy to the wall.
Oh. There was the metaphor she wanted. Not bad at all.
"Tell me more about this Shadow Monarch," Calluna drawled, leaning closer to Taiyang. "She sounds like quite the formidable opponent."
And with that we have (most) of our Beacon characters introduced. I'll be back as soon as I can with the initiation, and until then, let me know what you think of who we saw!
