Chapter 4: A Molding Process

"Monsters! Demons! Prowlers of the night! Yes, the creatures of grimm have many names, but I simply refer to them as prey!" Professor Port laughed out, his arms spread in front of the ramshackle board behind him, littered with anatomical displays of different grimm, alongside old, hardly functional weapons.

Daria let out a quiet groan, looking back and forth over her team, located towards the top of the bleachers, sequestered far from the Professor's view; Rainier was leaning back, feet propped up onto the desk in front of them, his Scroll in hand; Gail was sitting quietly, watching the teacher with as much intent and interest as she could muster- and Nash was passed out onto the desktop, snoring quietly.

The faunus' gaze turned boredly towards her, an eyebrow cocked up. "Oh, but I had thought our fearless leader insisted- we must attend our classes, we must!"

Her glare shifted to him. "Are you always this much of a jerk?"

"No, not always."

"So it's just me, then."

"Hardly! I've been giving the archer a hard time since we met in the forest. Isn't that right, Miss Cerulean?"

"Mmhm." She muttered disinterestedly, tuned out of their conversation entirely.

"And you shall too," The Professor said. "Upon graduating from this prestigious academy! Now, as I was saying; Vale, as well as the other three kingdoms, are safe havens in an otherwise treacherous world. Our planet is absolutely teaming with creatures that would love nothing more than to tear you to pieces! And that's where we come in; huntsmen, huntresses! Individuals who have sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves! From what, you ask? Why, the very world! That is what you are training to become; but first, a story. A tale of a young, handsome man… me! When I was a boy-"

"No," Rainier continued lightly, paying little mind to the teacher beginning his rant below. "Simply, when I traveled here from Vacuo, I'd had many expectations of this kingdom, of this school; unfortunately, very few of those have been met."

"Uh huh, sure."

"For instance, this class," He gestured around the lecture hall. "I've- and presumably you all- have been learning about grimm our entire lives. I know very well how to kill one. This? This is not only redundant, it's gratuitous, no?"

"So what?" Daria shot back. "We've got our classes. We go to them."

"In my hometown, if there were classes you didn't want to go to," He leaned towards her. "You don't go. It's truly that simple. No one would attend a class like this in Tear's Fall; truthfully, a class like this would not exist in Tear's Fall. I'm uncertain of what they teach you here in Vale, but thus far it's proving to be rather… lackluster."

"Wow, so you really are just a dick."

Rainier shrugged, turning his attention back down to Port below, still continuing on his rambling rant. "Call me what you will, but I've found that time out there is invaluable. Time in here is… well, wasted. Perhaps that's something you Vale huntsmen will learn eventually. It may do you some good."

"I'm not from Vale." Daria hissed back to him, scowling deeply.

"Vale, Mistral- all the same, truthfully. The only difference is the amount of world wars instigated in the past."

"You're just really all that high-and-mighty, huh?"

"If you say so. I prefer a 'rational viewpoint'."

"The moral of this story?" Port called out. "A true huntsman must be honorable! A true huntsman must be dependable! A true huntsman must be strategic, well-educated, and wise! So, who among you believes themselves to be the embodiment of these traits?"

Daria's withering gaze settled onto Rainier. "Well, there you go, knock yourself out, I think he just described you to a 'T'."

The faunus snorted, moving to retort-

"I do, sir!" Weiss barked from the stands far below DRGN, her voice dripping with anger.

Rainier's face fell slightly, a frown overtaking his expression.

"Oh lookie," His leader muttered sardonically. "You two are perfect for each other."

The faunus leaned back in his seat, the smugness of his expression fading. "At the very least, you are humorous."

"Well then," Port said, gesturing for Weiss to join him down on the floor. "Let's find out!" Another teacher appeared to the side of the classroom, pushing their way through a door; dragging a large crate behind them. The crate shook and rattled as the creature within bucked against its restraints, growling and snorting, only the glowing red of its eyes visible in the darkness. "Step forward and face your opponent."

Rainier's eyes slowly widened, leaning forwards in interest. Weiss drew a gleaming steep rapier, standing a few meters away from the crate, staring intently at the creature locked within.

"Gooo, Weiss!" Yang shouted from far below, the rest of RWBY becoming apparent. The students in the stands all watched with bated breath as the Atlesian stared the grimm down.

"Yeah, represent Team RWBY!" Ruby called, shooting to her feet, waving ecstatically.

"Ruby!" Weiss snapped back. "I am trying to focus!"

"…Sorry."

Port rubbed his hands together, stepping towards the side of the crate, a blunderbuss-axe weapon held in his hands. "Alright! Let the match… begin!" He swung out, cleaving the lock clean away from the crate.

The door had barely begun to swing open, before the grimm inside charged out; large and boar-like, two razor sharp tusks curling from its mouth, barreling straight towards Weiss.

The huntress barely managed to bring her rapier up, deflecting the attack, giving her enough space to roll to the side, popping back up to her feet determinedly. The grimm skid to a stop, turning back to the girl. This time, it stayed still, pawing at the floorboards anxiously, red eyes never leaving her.

"Haha!" Port laughed. "Wasn't expecting that, were you?"

"Hang in there, Weiss!" Ruby yelled excitedly.

"This," Rainier muttered. "Is far more my speed."

"You're the worst." Daria muttered back.

Weiss sped forwards, a series of white glyphs glowing in her path towards the grimm. She thrust her rapier forwards, the blade digging deep into the beast's skull; yet, it whipped its head to the side nonetheless, catching the sword in its tusk, trying to wildly rip it free from the huntress' grip, swinging her around frantically.

"Bold, new approach!" The Professor laughed. "I like it!"

"Come on, Weiss!" Ruby continued. "Show it who's boss!"

The momentary distraction offered by the leader of RWBY was enough for the grimm to rip the rapier from Weiss' grasp, sending it flying far from the combatants, before the creature lashed out, slamming its tusks into the huntress, sending her tumbling away.

The grimm immediately continued its offensive, charging wildly towards Weiss, missing only as she dove to the side, falling into a roll before quickly climbing back towards her feet, rushing towards her sword.

Ruby waved wildly to get her partner's attention. "Go for its belly! There's no armor underneath-"

"Stop telling me what to do!" Weiss snapped back, face filled with indignation and anger.

The grimm, for its part, turned on its heel furiously, leaping into the air and beginning to spin, gaining more and more speed; finally, it crashed back into the ground, its spinning form roaring towards the huntress with ridiculous speed. Weiss scowled, waving her rapier in front of her.

Moments before the beast crashed into her, a brilliant blue glyph appeared in the air before her, the grimm smashing headfirst into it, like hitting a solid wall. It bounced away with a satisfying 'crunch', tumbling back and away from the huntress.

Another glyph appeared behind Weiss, and she smoothly leapt up, cartwheeling, her heels meeting the snowflake-like rune. Its blue color faded to black, and like a blur, she flew from its surface, her rapier gleaming as she lunged straight towards the beast's unprotected underside, burying the sword hilt deep into the grimm.

She let out a gasp of relief as she rose back to her feet, the beast slowly beginning to dissipate.

"Bravo!" Port called, stepping towards her, clapping. "Bra-vo! It appears we are indeed in the presence of a true huntress-in-training!" Weiss climbed to her feet, the tension draining from her as she stood at attention, ramrod straight. "I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Be sure to cover the assigned readings and stay vigilant! Class dismissed!"

Weiss stormed away without a second glance, disappearing through the doors before any of the other students could even rise to their feet.

"And how about that?" Daria spat at Rainier. "Not bad for someone not from Vacuo, huh?"

The faunus snorted, grabbing the back of Nash's shirt to drag him to his feet, waking the boy up. "Yes, but she's Atlesian. She's not from this… lovely kingdom. I may not love our northern neighbors, but they do war very well. From what I can see, there are more children proving the rule here than there are exceptions… Miss Schnee and I, of course, discluded."

The moment DRGN exited the lecture hall, Daria rounded onto him, glaring him down. "You're a real creep, you know that?"

"A creep? Moi? Hardly! I simply speak what I believe. I believe that I am a product of Vacuo and am talented in that regard. I believe that you are a product of Mistral and are… not quite as talented in that regard. In fact, I don't believe I've ever even seen you even raise those blades of yours."

"Do you want to be leader?" She snapped. "Because it's yours, I don't want it anymore than you want me to have it."

"Of course not! Ozpin made his choice, and we must all live with that. Even so, leadership doesn't suit me; and beside that," He gave her a look-over. "You are a curiosity, dearest. I'm beyond fascinated to see what you do."

He stepped passed her smoothly, sashaying away from the rest of DRGN without another word, humming to himself as he went. Daria rolled her eyes, turning to walk down the hall. "Come on, you guys. I'm so over him."

"What'd I miss?" Nash whispered tiredly, attention shooting back and forth between his teammate and his leader.

"Well placed shot, Lance!" The teacher called, applauding the swordsman.

Lance shrugged with a smirk as he twirled the rifle around. "I know, I know. You learn a lot of things out in the wide, wide world."

Oracle snorted. "Apparently, ya didn't learn a smidgeon of humility out there."

"Humility's for the shameful." He shot back.

The gunslinger rose to her feet, walking towards the beginning of the firing range, joining her teammate and the teacher, raising her revolver high, chewing noisily on the toothpick in her mouth. "Watch and learn, blondie."

Butting him out of the way with her hip, she took her place solidly, raising the gun up to stare down the lane, a beowolf grimm cutout staring right back. The rifle shot cracked out, the bullet embedding itself cleanly in the heart of the cardboard beast.

Lance rolled his eyes as he bodily shouldered her away. "You couldn't hit water if you fell out of a boat." He fired, the shot landing only millimeters away from her own.

Oracle retook her position. "Ah no, you've wounded me- you gonna use the ol' 'broadside of a barn' chirp next? Child's play, bud." Her shot went cleanly through the bullet hole he'd made.

"Oh come on, kitten, I won't tell anyone if you don't have an actual comeback, just 'tween me and you." The swordsman didn't bother pushing her out of his way this time, sidling up next to her as he took another shot.

"Anyone ever tell you how much of a asshole you look like? I'd rather be watchin' a papercut in slow mo, then see you take another bass-ackwards shot." Three shots in quick succession made a triangle around their previous shots.

Lance didn't look away from the range as he began walking to the side, his teammate in step, rifle still raised casually. "I thought you were supposed to be good at shooting, why don't you sing a song or something, do a trick, you're friggin' useless." They entered the lane to their side, the target getting smaller and farther away, the swordsman's shot still ringing true.

"Hey, what's the name of your laundry foldin' channel, hon?" Oracle shot back, her other revolver coming up to lay out a flurry of bullets, each hitting their mark, the teammates never ceasing their movement.

Lance shook his head as he quickly reloaded the rifle, never losing a beat. "I bet you know exactly how many days it is until the next solstice."

"Wait!" Oracle shouted, getting everyone around the duo to jump in shock, all eyes turning to the members of SOUL.

The swordsman glared down at her for a moment. "…What?!"

"Go eat a dick, ya silly friggin' poodle."

"You're like a cup of baby carrots, you absolute tool." He immediately shot back, immediately resuming his precise- and increasingly irritated- shooting, a crowd beginning to form around the duo as they reached the longer and still longer lanes, the grimm cutout at the end getting less and less distinguishable.

"Hon, I don't even know what your name is."

"You remind me of the kinda person who somehow is always bursting out laughing in every group photo you're in- like the camera just happened to catch that magic moment in ever single one. It's like- 'say cheese'," He froze, face twisted into an overdramatic smile, arms lifting in a cheery pose. The crowd sucked in a bated breath, Oracle's eyebrows furrowing in irritation. After a long moment, he sent out a trio of rapid-fire shots, hitting their mark cleanly. "You're not fooling me, cowboy."

"Every chirp ya spit is like algebra; why've you gotta put numbers 'n letters together. Why can't ya just kiss my ass."

"Okay, Carmine; Carmine, okay, I see where you're comin' from. Why don't you just baby talk, because it feels like you're chirping at a baby, not, y'know, the kinda guy who's been kicking your ass this entire time."

"Parta me just wants ta take you down, see how you and that peashooter do in a real toe-to-toe brawl."

"Oh yeah, and what exactly do you think's gonna happen?"

"Three things happen, I hit you a few dozen times, you hit the floor, and the ambulance'll hit eighty."

"That's the worst chirp I think I've ever heard! My geriatric, Alzheimer havin' uncle could do better than that." Lance spat, both his and Oracle's faces drawn into matching scowls. He raised his rifle to fire, the grimm at the end of the lane little more than a black smudge in the distance. His finger tightened around the trigger-

Fwip.

An arrow whizzed passed the swordsman's head, soaring down the length of the lane at an incredible speed, before cleanly meeting its mark, burying halfway down its haft into the cardboard cutout.

All eyes snapped around to the back of the crowd- and Gail standing, her bow raised, another arrow nocked. Her eyes opened wide, warm brown irises filling with sudden abject terror at the amount of attention suddenly aimed her way. She let out a horrified squeak, the arrow sliding from her grasp.

Again, it flew past Lance's head, following its predecessor's path to the other end of the firing range-

And with out even a hair's difference in target, the second split cleanly through the original's, ripping it in twain before similarly sinking into the otherwise untouched grimm.

The eyes of the students slowly trailed from the duo of arrows, back to the archer who fired them; Gail, though, had turned tail, her backpack in hand as she beat an anxious, hasty retreat, the door to the firing range swinging shut behind her.

Lance and Oracle watched the girl go for a moment, their mirror gazes of surprise locking- they'd barely made eye contact before that surprise melted back into indignation.

"You know? I'm gonna be honest with you, cowgirl-"

"That suggests everythin' you've said up till this point's been a lie."

"Yeah, because semantics make for amazing chirps, get some new material."

"Ooh, big, big word, 'semantics'; which thesaurus didja get that from while ya cried yerself to sleep readin'."

"Y'know, it's a hard life reading thesauruses, but it sure as hell beats fighting some preppy Vale girl that thinks she's some sorta Vacuoan wastelander."

"Ouch, that one hurt; bout as much as that Mantlean wax it looks like ya get every other week."

"Oh, really, a chirp about my appearance, who woulda thought you would have to resort to that- oh, hey, I know, last night I saw a shooting star. I think I'm gonna wish that you weren't so damn awkward."

"I've met priests that can come up with better insults than that, ya dumpy bastard."

"I prefer to keep my best stuff for a worthy challenge, not like, oh I dunno, that bottom-tier crap you've been spitting all day."

"I wouldn't say crap if my mouth was full of it, and at least that makes one of us."

"You dumb, horse riding, backwards thinking, don't give a damn about anything hick!"

They both stopped in their tracks at the new voice shouting at them, looks of irritation fading into confusion.

"I'm pretty sure she's talking to you." Lance muttered.

Oracle turned on her heel- and her eyes went wide. A bolt of yellow flew down the hallway, the flash of burning red eyes visible for the brief instant it took the figure to reach the teammates.

Yang stood before Lance, her hands wrapped up in the collar of Oracle's dress shirt, hefting the cowgirl off of her feet entirely. The blonde's hair was alit like flames, her normally lilac eyes now brilliantly red, face twisted into fury.

The swordsman took a subtle step away, his eyebrows narrowing. "Can I help you?"

"You haven't even said hi, or anything?!" Yang snapped. "Nothing?!"

"Well…" Oracle managed, smiling nervously at the brutish huntress, reaching up to keep her hat perched on her head. "…I thought you were too busy babysittin' little Rubes to come play with the big girls."

"I'd would have thought the same, you country hick, only I know that you don't have anybody that likes you enough to let you babysit their kids."

"Bimbo."

They continued to stare each other down… before both of their faces split with brilliant smiles, Yang's hair and eyes returning to normal. She brought the gunslinger back down, pulling her into a deep hug, one that was reciprocated gleefully.

"Long time no see, O." Yang said lowly, enjoying the embrace for a moment, before she pulled back, beaming at her old friend.

"Right back atcha, party girl."

Lance's eyebrow cocked up; arms crossed as he leaned against a locker to his side. "Well, isn't this sweet."

"Who's this dweeb?" Yang asked, finally giving the swordsman a glance.

"Just the weakest link on my team." Oracle shot back, both girls turning to him.

Lance snorted. "Weakest link? Last time I checked; all you did to that Beringel was put a couple of holes in it with those pea shooters."

"Is this guy for real?" The larger of the two huntresses asked, face incredulous.

Oracle tipped her hat back, nodding. "He's been like this since day one."

"Well, you know what they say- it's a great day for hay, ain't it, ladies?" The swordsman shot back.

The old friends exchanged glances, before Yang shrugged. "It is a great day for hay, what's it to ya?"

"Just thought I might remind you guys of something you love, considering you're both apparently wannabe cowboys."

Oracle rolled her eyes. "Buddy, the only thing girls love is when you stop talkin'."

"My track record says otherwise."

Yang snorted, looking him up and down. "Dude, you're softer than a chewed-up tootsie roll."

"You look like the skunk my dog killed and probably did unspeakable things too." Oracle added, neither girl missing a beat.

"Wannabes? You're the one dressing like a wannabe Vacuoan with that chest baring jacket, you pheasant."

"Take your pretty boy haircut, your overcompensatin' sword, and kick rocks."

"Cake eater."

"It might not be a great day for hay, but it's a great day for chirpin'."

"What's it to ya-"

Lance blinked owlishly, looking back and forth between them. He cleared his throat, hesitantly combing his hair back. "…Girls, girls-"

"'Girls, girls,'" Oracle shot back, leaning towards him. "What, do ya share a brain both up top and down below?"

"Get real." Yang added.

"I bet you've got twenty different names for your sword, and you can take that one whatever direction you want, bud."

"You smell like cheese puffs, and you look far out."

"I bet you write Achieve Men song lyrics in all your pick-up texts."

"You prefer kittens and you kiss babies."

"You're a friggin' amateur, bud."

Arms crossed, both huntresses leaned against each other, staring expectantly at the swordsman before them, Oracle idly chewing on the remains of her toothpick.

Lance let out a breath, leaning away from them. He raised his hands placatingly. "…Ladies… That was… some of the finest chirping I've ever received. Ever," He nodded, beginning to step backwards, looking Oracle up and down. "…I'm not too proud to admit I've been beat. Well played, Carmine. Nice meeting you, blondie." He turned and began to walk away, shaking his head in slight awe and appraisal, mumbling to himself as he went.

The huntresses watched him go for a moment, before the gunslinger's face split back into a smile, turning on her heel to pull Yang into another hug.

"I'm glad that didn't turn into a fight," The blonde said, voice light again. "It would've been awkward having to ask to change first."

Oracle pulled back, smiling at her old friend. "I's great to see ya, blondie."

"You too. You didn't call, text, anything?"

"I…" The redhead averted her gaze, sighing. "I got caught up. I meant ta, ya know that. I just… lotsa stuff happenin'."

Yang punched her in the shoulder as they began to walk away. "Yeah, I know how you work. It's no problem. You'll just have to make it up to me."

Oracle let out a quiet chuckle. "…So... your sister. Heard Rubes is leading the team?"

"...Aha… yeah. It's… she's definitely… yep! I think Ozpin's crazy, but, y'know… I believe in her. She's got it. I just hope she doesn't drive Weiss insane before she gets it."

"Yeah… that sounds pretty familiar. How'd she even get in? Isn't she somethin' like two years younger than us?"

"Ha, yeah, she is. She was... I dunno, at a Dust shop to pick up some ammo, and she managed to break up a robbery while she was there. Something about a dude in a bowler hat and a glowy-eyed lady, I don't know. She had an interview with Ozpin and Goodwitch and they let her apply early."

"That damn girl, that sounds exactly like her."

The blonde burst back into giddiness, looping her arm into Oracle's. "Come on- let's go hit the town, catch up! It's been way too long!"

The gunslinger smiled, face brightening- before immediately dowering. "…I can't."

"Wha? Why not! You always skip class with me!"

"Yeah… but… Shinai- our team's leader, he's pretty… pretty dang strict, actually. Cute as hell, but lords, does he have a stick up his butt. We're in the same class comin' up, and if 'm not there, he's gonna rip me a new one," Yang's smile fell, mood dampening significantly. She nodded, disappointed lilac gaze turning to the side. Oracle squeezed her shoulder, shaking her from side to side. "Oh, don't be like that, hon. After class today- we'll go muck 'bout town. Just you, me, maybe Rubes. Like old times."

That brought the grin back to the blonde's face. "Alright, but I'm going to hold you to that. Don't think I won't."

"Yeah, yeah… i's good to see ya again, darlin'."

"You too, girl. You too."

Glynda Goodwitch stood upon the stage formally, hands folded behind her back. She looked out to the stands of students, nodding. "-But nevertheless, matches are dangerous. Your aura, the protective shield your soul manifests, will only protect you for so long. When it runs out, you will be as defenseless as any civilian that walks the streets,"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, before she cleared her throat pointedly. "However, this is a sparring class, and its purpose is to prepare you for the inevitable moments when you will fight other huntsmen, huntresses, or other powerful and skilled individuals, be they in qualified, official matches, or out in the field. Starting today, we will be posing sparring matches, pitting you against your fellow students; these will vary from hand-to-hand training, to full speed matches contested under tournament rules. With this in mind; are there any volunteers for our first sparring match?"

The crowd was silent, no one hardly moving or reacting, a thick air of anxiety settling over them.

"No one?" Goodwitch continued, eyebrow raised, unimpressed. Her gaze scanned over the students carefully, assessing each huntsman-to-be carefully; her attention froze. "Ah, Mr. Kyani; your name, and your record in these matches, precedes you. Would you join me on the stage?"

Shinai hardly reacted to the request, though he stiffened slightly as the students around him turned their attentions almost reverently to the samurai. He rose to his feet and nodded quietly, beginning his descent to the stage below.

As he made his way down, the professor continued to scan the crowd. "Are there any who would be willing to spar with Mr. Kyani for the purposes of our demonstration in regard to tournament rules and expectations?"

No one made a sound.

"No one? No one would like to try their hand at besting Mr. Kyani?"

Still, no reaction.

"Very well, the-"

"I'll do it."

All eyes turned towards the upper layers of the stands; settling onto Team DRGN.

Rainier was lounging in his spot, feet kicked up on the seat in front of him. One hand was raised in the air lazily, his face nonchalant and unimpressed.

Glynda adjusted her glasses, staring up at him. "Mr… Rainier Platina, correct? Very well. Please join us down on the stage," The faunus looked over to his teammates, beginning to stir from his position without an ounce of urgency. "Do remember, Mr. Platina, that this spar will be contested under official tournament rules, and not the street rules you will be used to."

"Of course, of course." Rainier said, waving his hand.

Daria leaned towards him as he began to descend, frowning. "What are 'street rules' exactly?"

The faunus grinned back to her. "Try not to kill each other."

Shinai and Rainier stared down at another, purple locked onto pale gold. Shinai's hands rested softly on the hilt of his handle as Rainier leaned backwards, casual and nonplussed.

The faunus bowed lowly with a flourish. "Good luck." He said, rising back to his feet.

The samurai gave him a slight, stiff bow in return, offering a nod, but was otherwise silent.

"Ready!" Goodwitch called out.

Both fighters stiffened; Shinai's feet sliding apart from each other, hand tightening around his katana's hilt; Rainier began to hop from foot to foot, eyes hardening as a vicious smirk began to spread across his face. His eyes shifted to the large screens above the stage, both huntsmen's portraits portrayed over mirror bars of green.

Yellow met purple again.

"Go."