A/N: Okay, folks. I'm back, but not in style. Writers' block is a complete and total... well, pain. I couldn't find a way to do a good chapter from the main peoples' points of view, so here's the Stalker Room.

Disclaimer: Oh, for the love of... YOU BETTER KNOW THIS ALREADY!

-RSWBY-

-Chapter 4.5-

-The Professors-

The newest pot of coffee was a bit stronger than normal, Ozpin noticed as he took a sip from his eighteenth cup of the drink since the test began two hours past. He looked over the numerous screens that lined the walls of the room he and his assistant would be operating from until the test ended. Or until something went wrong and everyone died. He settled into an armchair he had brought in for the day, and began to look at the other major presence in the room: piles of student files and paperwork. 'This is a combat school. Why is there so much paperwork?' he wondered to himself, debating whether or not to throw it all away when Goodwitch wasn't looking. Of course, given the way she was staring at him, he wouldn't have a chance for a long while. Sighing and taking a long draft of his coffee, the headmaster picked up the files for his two special recruits: Silver and Ruby Rose.

He smirked as he opened Ruby's file, reviewing what he had already known when he recruited her. Top ten in every field combat-oriented class she took and in the upper quarter of every other except the more morally ambiguous ones. Psych evaluations reported her as an exemplary person, with a strong moral fiber and uncompromising values. All in all, she was the best possible person to use as an early recruit. He tossed the folder carelessly to Glynda, raising an eyebrow and sipping his coffee. "I believe that should answer your questions," he said smugly as he set down his mug.

"And this should raise more." Glynda glared at the silver-haired man icily, handing him a file marked "Silver." Ozpin rolled his eyes and cracked open the folder, smirking when he saw his assistant's precise handwriting in place of machine script.

'Well, she should write stories for children,' he told himself as he read her... assessment, of the unplanned initiate. 'Hm... "Authority issues and total lack of respect for superiors... Far too little compassion to be a team player..." Rich, coming from Glynda.' The troll took a deep drink out of his mug, then looked up at his subordinate without concern. "Is any of this a bad thing?" he asked cheerily, waving the file in the air.

Glynda looked like she was going to have steam start streaming from his ears, but instead she began one of her patented rants. "Sir, are- are you serious?! He does not fit into this school, at all! He has no respect for anyone's wishes but his own, he has zero concern for how his actions affect others! He is everything that Hunters are not!"

"And he's also the fastest thing I've ever seen, and possibly the best self-taught swordsman I've met," countered Ozpin, raising one eyebrow and readjusting his glasses. He pointed to the screen the silver swordsman was being tracked on. "Take a look."

The blonde witch turned and stared at the screen in abject disbelief. She had assumed that Silver was entirely talk and flash, but had no actual skill to back it up. What was on the screen was mildly off-putting, to say the least. Silver was dancing his way through a pack of fifty Beowulves, his twin longswords whirling so rapidly they looked like they were only blurs in the air. As soon as a Grimm stepped inside his reach, Silver cut it so many times that it fell apart like a cow after the butcher had been at it. He was moving so fast that he was gone before the Beowulves knew he had killed them.

"What is he?" the woman muttered incredulously, watching as the boy finished off the last Grimm before returning his blades to their stowed form on his harness. She turned to Ozpin, trying to reconcile her opinions with reality. "How is he like... that, without any training?"

Ozpin sighed, setting down his mug and scanning Silver's psych profile. "I can only guess. I'm thinking what we've seen is a front. A mask, if you will."

"So he's not really that... rude and wild?"

"Oh, no, he is," Ozpin grinned evilly. "I think he just hides a lot. It shows in his eyes, and only if you look close."

Glynda sank into a nearby chair, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

Ozpin sighed and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose to relieve the tension. "Last night, when he asked for permission to use the forges... He had something in his eyes that I've seen in a lot of Hunters." He looked up at his friend and he suddenly seemed very, very old. Old and tired. "He was hurting. Like we were after that mission about ten years ago. He's lost something important, and he's afraid to get it back." He looked at the screens, pointing to Ruby and Silver. "For some reason, he's letting Miss Rose inside his barriers. And he's afraid to. I think if he lost her... I don't know what he'd do."