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Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra loved airships. She clung to the porthole and enjoyed the view wholeheartedly, her eyes passively taking in the mottled greens and browns of the wilderness. Beneath the canopy surely was dark and grey and unappealing, but from ten thousand feet it looked magical, a collage of irregular shapes and shades, moving just fast enough to keep her attention. Every once in a while a city or some like would pass by the window, and she would think about what those people are doing, imagining in rough detail the possible lives they're living as she thinks. She idly thumbed her backpack as she daydreams. She felt anxious without her weapon, but it was stored safely below. She was unsure why she felt so anxious, intellectually she knew that she had no reason to have it, but deep down for some reason she felt that in Beacon, a huntress-to-be should always be armed. Sort of like and unwritten rule, in her mind.
She glanced over at her friend Whit, his tall frame lazing in the uncomfortable seats on the ship. The vessel looked like re-purposed military material, and that theory did wonders to explain the lack of luxury in their assigned seating area. There was an open common area, but Whit was not in the mood to mingle just yet, and Petra had no problem enjoying the view in peace and quiet. She could faintly hear Whit's music coming from his headphones, turned just too loud to be unhealthy. His eyes were closed, though he was certainly not asleep. He was far too restless to be sleeping, and he shifted himself every minute or so, looking for the fabled 'perfectly comfortable posture' that they both knew he would never find. She turned back to the window and continued her reverie.
She glanced over at her friend Whit, his tall frame lazing in the uncomfortable seats on the ship. The vessel looked like re-purposed military material, and that theory did wonders to explain the lack of luxury in their assigned seating area. There was an open common area, but Whit was not in the mood to mingle just yet, and Petra had no problem enjoying the view in peace and quiet. She could faintly hear Whit's music coming from his headphones, turned just too loud to be unhealthy. His eyes were closed, though he was certainly not asleep. He was far too restless to be sleeping, and he shifted himself every minute or so, looking for the fabled 'perfectly comfortable posture' that they both knew he would never find. She turned back to the window and continued her reverie.
"Penny for your thoughts?" A lithe young woman murmured with a silvery voice, taking a seat beside a lean, muscled and rugged man, crossing one of her long legs over the other, but she remained upright in her chair, as if she were anticipating change. As she adjusted her position, cinnamon brown locks swayed at her hips, brushing across the seat.
"They're not worth that much," He retorted with a bit of a throaty laugh, chin perched on clasped, strong hands, elbows propped on his knees. He was a little hunched, baring a dark gaze with the depth of an ocean trench, framed by shoulder length, jet black hair that he ran his fingers through to keep out of his face.
"Come now, pessimism is my thing," full, pink lips twitched upwards in a coquettish simper, to which he couldn't help but smirk back at, eyes aglow and mirroring her mischievous gaze.
"Do I know you?" He inquired, finally sitting up a little. He'd been more or less ignored most of the ride here, which was fine by him- and suddenly, he was locked in a conversation with a lovely stranger.
"No, shame, isn't it?" She asked, but her tone remained playful, too light hearted to be threatening.
"That it is," He held out his hand, which was relatively large compared to her own frail palm. He arched a brow, taking in her similar figure- what was she doing on an airship full of warriors? "Name's Sam."
"Rae," She answered, almost melodious.
"Well, Rae, it's a pleasure."
They exchanged mixed emotions as silence returned, picking up on what hid beneath the masks of contentment and flirtatious glimmers to their irises; they were apprehensive about their enrollment, and as the airship glided through crystal clear skies, the two, still tense, let small talk fade off, settled into their seats, and mirrored similar pensive expressions, eyes on a distant porthole of which sunshine seeped through, but didn't quite reach them.
"They're not worth that much," He retorted with a bit of a throaty laugh, chin perched on clasped, strong hands, elbows propped on his knees. He was a little hunched, baring a dark gaze with the depth of an ocean trench, framed by shoulder length, jet black hair that he ran his fingers through to keep out of his face.
"Come now, pessimism is my thing," full, pink lips twitched upwards in a coquettish simper, to which he couldn't help but smirk back at, eyes aglow and mirroring her mischievous gaze.
"Do I know you?" He inquired, finally sitting up a little. He'd been more or less ignored most of the ride here, which was fine by him- and suddenly, he was locked in a conversation with a lovely stranger.
"No, shame, isn't it?" She asked, but her tone remained playful, too light hearted to be threatening.
"That it is," He held out his hand, which was relatively large compared to her own frail palm. He arched a brow, taking in her similar figure- what was she doing on an airship full of warriors? "Name's Sam."
"Rae," She answered, almost melodious.
"Well, Rae, it's a pleasure."
They exchanged mixed emotions as silence returned, picking up on what hid beneath the masks of contentment and flirtatious glimmers to their irises; they were apprehensive about their enrollment, and as the airship glided through crystal clear skies, the two, still tense, let small talk fade off, settled into their seats, and mirrored similar pensive expressions, eyes on a distant porthole of which sunshine seeped through, but didn't quite reach them.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Whit could not take it any more. This chair was driving him insane. No matter what he did, it seemed to forever be poking him in new and interesting ways. On his side: hips are uncomfortable. Legs this way: cramped. Legs that way: too stretched. The seat in front of him restricted him greatly, and did not even have the courtesy to prove an adequate face-rest, being to close to lean on and made of some horrid, itchy plastic. That was it, he had to go for a walk.
He stood up quickly, spiking his headphones into the chair with more than a little petulant frustration. Not enough to damage them, but enough to let him imagine them in as much discomfort as he was in. Petra reacted with a start, turning to face him after jumping out of her seat slightly.
"You going somewhere Whit?". She looked him right in the eye, her attention entirely with him. Whit nodded as he responded.
"I'm going to go for a walk. This chair is driving me insane. You need anything while I'm up?". Whit was unsure what there was he could get her on the ship. Except for the jam of talkative teenagers, Whit had not seen much around. The flight was short enough, he supposed, to not require such amenities, but some place to by some chips or something would have made the hours much more bearable.
"I'm good, thanks. I'll just stay here. I think we'll be at beacon soon, though, so bear that in mind.". Whit nodded and began his aimless walk through the ship
He stood up quickly, spiking his headphones into the chair with more than a little petulant frustration. Not enough to damage them, but enough to let him imagine them in as much discomfort as he was in. Petra reacted with a start, turning to face him after jumping out of her seat slightly.
"You going somewhere Whit?". She looked him right in the eye, her attention entirely with him. Whit nodded as he responded.
"I'm going to go for a walk. This chair is driving me insane. You need anything while I'm up?". Whit was unsure what there was he could get her on the ship. Except for the jam of talkative teenagers, Whit had not seen much around. The flight was short enough, he supposed, to not require such amenities, but some place to by some chips or something would have made the hours much more bearable.
"I'm good, thanks. I'll just stay here. I think we'll be at beacon soon, though, so bear that in mind.". Whit nodded and began his aimless walk through the ship
To both of their surprise, their close propinquity hadn't been bothersome, in fact, they'd taken to leaving their wretched little chairs behind and, instead, exploring what little there was to delve into within the airship, together. For some thing so sumptuous, you'd think there'd be some form of entertainment, other than the clouds that whizzed past crowded windows. But alas, there were only new faces amidst the same old setting they'd been cooped up in for quite a while.
"Everybody's kind of bland," Rae remarked, her voice thoughtful amidst the silence.
"How so?"
"I don't know. No one's really....popping out at me." She told him, scrutinizing the populace aboard the vessel, disappointed with nearly everyone she saw.
Nearly.
"Mmm, I like him though," she said mellifluously, and before Sam could get another word in she'd strode off towards a man who was seemingly wandering, with a look of boredom that mirrored how Sam, himself, felt.
Rae took a moment to observe the way the man walked: his posture, his eyes, and as her semblance took over, she could properly see the vibrancy of his aura. She liked his energy, it was different, like Sam's, but with a uniqueness she wanted to acknowledge. Boldly, she graced her way over to him, matching his stride and adjusting her aura to radiate similar emotions, which set the atmosphere in balance.
"Of all the things this military vessels equipped with, they didn't include a hot tub? Shameless," She said dramatically, and if he cast his glance towards her, she'd be beaming with a warm and genuine smile.
Sam kept his gaze on the two with mild curiosity, sighing when he realized he'd done exactly what he didn't intend to do: Gain interest in someone else. Two people, specifically.
"Everybody's kind of bland," Rae remarked, her voice thoughtful amidst the silence.
"How so?"
"I don't know. No one's really....popping out at me." She told him, scrutinizing the populace aboard the vessel, disappointed with nearly everyone she saw.
Nearly.
"Mmm, I like him though," she said mellifluously, and before Sam could get another word in she'd strode off towards a man who was seemingly wandering, with a look of boredom that mirrored how Sam, himself, felt.
Rae took a moment to observe the way the man walked: his posture, his eyes, and as her semblance took over, she could properly see the vibrancy of his aura. She liked his energy, it was different, like Sam's, but with a uniqueness she wanted to acknowledge. Boldly, she graced her way over to him, matching his stride and adjusting her aura to radiate similar emotions, which set the atmosphere in balance.
"Of all the things this military vessels equipped with, they didn't include a hot tub? Shameless," She said dramatically, and if he cast his glance towards her, she'd be beaming with a warm and genuine smile.
Sam kept his gaze on the two with mild curiosity, sighing when he realized he'd done exactly what he didn't intend to do: Gain interest in someone else. Two people, specifically.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Whit's brown eyes moved fast to his side, his head turning at a leisurely pace. He instinctively pushed his unkempt blond hair to the side, an unconscious action from the few years he wore his hair long. He was glad to be rid of those times. He looked slightly down at the girl, returning her smile with his own. He did not know her. She was confident, breaking social ice without a second thought. She seemed friendly: he couldn't imagine her coming over here because she was angry, and he doubted himself attractive enough for it to be a cause for interest. She was on a ship to Beacon, so she was at least an above-average fighter, and even if she was not there would be no reason to not be friendly. Kindness was cheap, and friends were good no matter who they were. His smile widened slightly as he made to speak. She was obviously one for levity, so he racked his mind for a second to compose a seemingly-appropriate response.
He spoke in a joking tone, "You know, I started this trip thinking the exact same thing. Having sat in that chair for the last two hours, however, has radically changed my priorities. I'd give an eye for a soft pillow at this point."
He turned the rest of his body to face her, and extended his hand. "Whit Danvers, pleasure to meet you."
He spoke in a joking tone, "You know, I started this trip thinking the exact same thing. Having sat in that chair for the last two hours, however, has radically changed my priorities. I'd give an eye for a soft pillow at this point."
He turned the rest of his body to face her, and extended his hand. "Whit Danvers, pleasure to meet you."
"Because pillows are our first priority," She affirmed, reciprocating his tone before she shook his hand, her grip as firm as she could manage, which was hardly ever firm at all. She liked his smile, it was genuine, she could tell.
"Likewise, I'm Rae. "
The brunette dropped her hand back to her side, feeling accomplished upon finding two auras she could stand to be close to. With most it was overwhelming, but she'd lucked out, and how convenient, right before landing?
Hmm, speaking of two...
"Oh!" She was gone and back in a flash, this time, with an arm locked around Sam's, his demeanor and hers about as alike as yin and yang. "And this is Samm-"
"-Sam," He interrupted, and also took to shaking the man's hand.
"Sam, Whit, Whit, Sam," She finalized, "Whit's funnier than you, you know."
The man pretended to be shot, wincing and holding his chest dramatically, "Ouch, like a bullet through the heart."
"You'll recover," Rae sneered.
"Are you here on your own?" Sam asked casually, smoothing down the collar of his obsidian, leather jacket, which was shadowed and sleek against the simple white t-shirt he wore underneath. Aviators hung and reflected distant sunlight over his neckline, shined, gold rimmed and pricey. The man decided it was in his best interest to follow Rae's lead as far as charisma went; while it was undeniable he was in fact charming, his general detachment made him seemed more ostracized, one with a preference of independence, reserved and distant, and claimed by some, intimidating. He tried not to let on any of that, though, as he knew he'd need a few names to call on during his time here, capable or not.
"Likewise, I'm Rae. "
The brunette dropped her hand back to her side, feeling accomplished upon finding two auras she could stand to be close to. With most it was overwhelming, but she'd lucked out, and how convenient, right before landing?
Hmm, speaking of two...
"Oh!" She was gone and back in a flash, this time, with an arm locked around Sam's, his demeanor and hers about as alike as yin and yang. "And this is Samm-"
"-Sam," He interrupted, and also took to shaking the man's hand.
"Sam, Whit, Whit, Sam," She finalized, "Whit's funnier than you, you know."
The man pretended to be shot, wincing and holding his chest dramatically, "Ouch, like a bullet through the heart."
"You'll recover," Rae sneered.
"Are you here on your own?" Sam asked casually, smoothing down the collar of his obsidian, leather jacket, which was shadowed and sleek against the simple white t-shirt he wore underneath. Aviators hung and reflected distant sunlight over his neckline, shined, gold rimmed and pricey. The man decided it was in his best interest to follow Rae's lead as far as charisma went; while it was undeniable he was in fact charming, his general detachment made him seemed more ostracized, one with a preference of independence, reserved and distant, and claimed by some, intimidating. He tried not to let on any of that, though, as he knew he'd need a few names to call on during his time here, capable or not.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Success. Whit congratulated himself inwardly for being pleasant enough, and thought it prudent to continue. He could tell he would like this girl. He brushed his white button up shirt, this time a conscious action to attempt to appear slightly nervous. He found that such things endeared people, though he admitted he needed more data. He was envious of Sam's glasses, and wished he had a piece of clothing to match it. His father's grey trench coat was his most valued piece of attire, but its value was only of note to him: he doubted other people would recognize it as an heirloom, and doubted many would care.
"My good friend Petra is back in our seats, glued to the window. She always liked flying, never understood it myself." Remembering his dislike of flying brought his latent airsickness to the front of his mind, and wished he had not thought of it.
"Are you two together? You seem to be getting along rather well for new friends, if your ask me."
Shit. Whit just realized he said 'together'. He doubted anything good could come of increasing any possible sexual tension, and he feared that this rather distracting conversation would suffer due to his poor choice of words. Nothing he could do about it now, though. Words, in Whit's experience, were only made worse by trying to retract them.
"My good friend Petra is back in our seats, glued to the window. She always liked flying, never understood it myself." Remembering his dislike of flying brought his latent airsickness to the front of his mind, and wished he had not thought of it.
"Are you two together? You seem to be getting along rather well for new friends, if your ask me."
Shit. Whit just realized he said 'together'. He doubted anything good could come of increasing any possible sexual tension, and he feared that this rather distracting conversation would suffer due to his poor choice of words. Nothing he could do about it now, though. Words, in Whit's experience, were only made worse by trying to retract them.
"I don't get it, either. Thrill dies in the first half hour," Sam scoffed. He'd hardly grazed the window, too many other students smashing their face against the glass to see a bird get sucked in the propeller.
"Are you two together? You seem to be getting along rather well for new friends, if your ask me."
Sam had waited for Rae to interject, but she'd suddenly become very quiet, so he was quick to correct the sentence, weary of what her lack of response meant. If it was confusion, he could understand, but if it was anything deeper, he wouldn't hesitate to set the record straight with her. "No, we're not, at all. New acquainted friends, sure."
Rae put her hands to her cheeks as he spoke, attempting to casually cover up what was too blatant to be hidden; considering how pale she was, the flush provoked by his inquiry rose up from her neck to the tips of her ears, tainting her complexion a reddish pink hue and spreading warmth down to her finger tips. It was mostly anxiety, those kinds questions hit a cord like a match flicked on gasoline.
"Y-Yeah, no, we only just met, I'm just mesmerizing, and he can't stop following me," She covered quickly, her voice oozing with playfulness as she picked up on Sam's defensiveness. He seemed to visibly loosen up a little again, to which she inwardly sighed in relief, "You know, it happens."
She honestly didn't know why those questions always affected her so; she assumed it was just the dread of answering no, she's still an odd ball of a loner. Charming, alluring, funny- and lonely. It just tipped the scale and killed the traits, in her opinion.
"Yeah, when you're dreaming."
She huffed and quickly changed the subject, the blood at the surface of her skin slowly fading. "So, Petra, that's a lovely name." Her swift steps already started in the opposite direction, eager to escape what she knew only she was unnerved by, "Do you think you could introduce us to her? I'd just love to meet her!"
"...Hey, your call, Whit. I'll go catch her if you're not up for it," With a subtle nod and flick of his hair, he followed after Rae, grey-blue eyes soft as he watched her swerve in and out of the crowd with ease, but gradually he realized she was distancing herself from them, maybe him, which felt a little odd. Even if they'd only known each other for about an hour.
"Are you two together? You seem to be getting along rather well for new friends, if your ask me."
Sam had waited for Rae to interject, but she'd suddenly become very quiet, so he was quick to correct the sentence, weary of what her lack of response meant. If it was confusion, he could understand, but if it was anything deeper, he wouldn't hesitate to set the record straight with her. "No, we're not, at all. New acquainted friends, sure."
Rae put her hands to her cheeks as he spoke, attempting to casually cover up what was too blatant to be hidden; considering how pale she was, the flush provoked by his inquiry rose up from her neck to the tips of her ears, tainting her complexion a reddish pink hue and spreading warmth down to her finger tips. It was mostly anxiety, those kinds questions hit a cord like a match flicked on gasoline.
"Y-Yeah, no, we only just met, I'm just mesmerizing, and he can't stop following me," She covered quickly, her voice oozing with playfulness as she picked up on Sam's defensiveness. He seemed to visibly loosen up a little again, to which she inwardly sighed in relief, "You know, it happens."
She honestly didn't know why those questions always affected her so; she assumed it was just the dread of answering no, she's still an odd ball of a loner. Charming, alluring, funny- and lonely. It just tipped the scale and killed the traits, in her opinion.
"Yeah, when you're dreaming."
She huffed and quickly changed the subject, the blood at the surface of her skin slowly fading. "So, Petra, that's a lovely name." Her swift steps already started in the opposite direction, eager to escape what she knew only she was unnerved by, "Do you think you could introduce us to her? I'd just love to meet her!"
"...Hey, your call, Whit. I'll go catch her if you're not up for it," With a subtle nod and flick of his hair, he followed after Rae, grey-blue eyes soft as he watched her swerve in and out of the crowd with ease, but gradually he realized she was distancing herself from them, maybe him, which felt a little odd. Even if they'd only known each other for about an hour.
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Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Whit considered winking dramatically at his new friend, making some sharp comment while Rae's back was turned, but figured any pleasure he would glean from it would not make up for the increased discomfort. He contented himself in chuckling at their duo act [which he was impressed by, for new acquaintances.], and turning to follow Rae, motioning to Sam to follow as he thanked providence that she started moving the right way. He doubted she would like the compounding embarrassment of that ever-so-human shame of needing to get directions.
He followed Rae closely, eventually pointing out Petra, still glued to the window, though now wearing his headphones brazenly. He motioned Rae to hold on for a second, motioning to Petra in a conspiratorial fashion, all pantomime. Overacting was an easy way for cheap laughs, Whit found, and he could take all he could get. He walked calmly over to Petra, and knowing she would notice him if he got near, decided to use his aura. Sharing secrets was an excellent way to get people to identify as your friend, and his semblance was one he valued less than other people seemed to. He looked carefully at Petra, her blue dress and dark leggings standing out against not only her long auburn hair, but the bright red color of his scroll. He had his target.
He removed his shoe, a scuffed and unremarkable sneaker that blended in with his trousers, and threw it at the ground as hard as he could. His shoe weighed a quarter of a kilogram, and he thanked his lucky stars that he was not wearing his steel-toed boots. He threw the shoe at a fair velocity: he had aimed for 40 meters per second, but he could never be sure exactly. It would accelerate due to gravity, but he was too lazy to work with second derivatives. A quick bit of math figured that the shoe had 200 joules of kinetic energy. That would be more than enough. He eyeballed the amount of force it would take to pull his scroll the few meters over the chair in front of Petra and into his hand, and just decided to start pulling out energy and shoving it into the scroll. Petra did not react well to the scroll flying from her lap. She yelped, and looked around, panicked but curious. Her aura flashed on for a second, but turned off as soon as she processed the cause of her misfortune. Whit caught the phone right as she started yelling, putting on his shoe absentmindedly as he ignored her and congratulated himself on his aim.
"Whit, what are you doing? I could have been hurt! You could have broken your scroll! What did you even do that for, what did I do-"
Whit cut her off with a raised hand, which he used to introduce his new friends, closing the few meters between them with a few confident steps
"Petra, may I introduce my new friends, Sam and Rae. Sam and Rae, meet my good friend Petra.". Petra huffed and picked the yanked headphones off the ground, and stood to introduce herself. She walked over to the pair and extended her hand, first to Rae then to Sam.
"My name is Petra. How do you do?"
He followed Rae closely, eventually pointing out Petra, still glued to the window, though now wearing his headphones brazenly. He motioned Rae to hold on for a second, motioning to Petra in a conspiratorial fashion, all pantomime. Overacting was an easy way for cheap laughs, Whit found, and he could take all he could get. He walked calmly over to Petra, and knowing she would notice him if he got near, decided to use his aura. Sharing secrets was an excellent way to get people to identify as your friend, and his semblance was one he valued less than other people seemed to. He looked carefully at Petra, her blue dress and dark leggings standing out against not only her long auburn hair, but the bright red color of his scroll. He had his target.
He removed his shoe, a scuffed and unremarkable sneaker that blended in with his trousers, and threw it at the ground as hard as he could. His shoe weighed a quarter of a kilogram, and he thanked his lucky stars that he was not wearing his steel-toed boots. He threw the shoe at a fair velocity: he had aimed for 40 meters per second, but he could never be sure exactly. It would accelerate due to gravity, but he was too lazy to work with second derivatives. A quick bit of math figured that the shoe had 200 joules of kinetic energy. That would be more than enough. He eyeballed the amount of force it would take to pull his scroll the few meters over the chair in front of Petra and into his hand, and just decided to start pulling out energy and shoving it into the scroll. Petra did not react well to the scroll flying from her lap. She yelped, and looked around, panicked but curious. Her aura flashed on for a second, but turned off as soon as she processed the cause of her misfortune. Whit caught the phone right as she started yelling, putting on his shoe absentmindedly as he ignored her and congratulated himself on his aim.
"Whit, what are you doing? I could have been hurt! You could have broken your scroll! What did you even do that for, what did I do-"
Whit cut her off with a raised hand, which he used to introduce his new friends, closing the few meters between them with a few confident steps
"Petra, may I introduce my new friends, Sam and Rae. Sam and Rae, meet my good friend Petra.". Petra huffed and picked the yanked headphones off the ground, and stood to introduce herself. She walked over to the pair and extended her hand, first to Rae then to Sam.
"My name is Petra. How do you do?"
As Whit displayed his impressive abilities, Sam blew a lilting whistle, blue eyes fixated on the actions made before him. He was a rather placid young man, neutral to most parties, dismissive of what would catch the interest of most, generally detached for various reasons what with that shadowed demeanor it was kind of obvious. But a semblance always caught his eye, especially one he'd yet to see, and he could appreciate the peculiarity of Whit's. Though still laid back, he wouldn't deny that the unexpected introductions were reminding him of the enticing aspects of enrolling at Beacon, and to have the passion fed little bits and perhaps even be gradually restored? Well, the idea, silently, amped him up. He remained stoic physically, however, hands still shoved in his dark wash, denim jean pockets, blue eyes piercing, yet clouded, as he struggled to let internal realization step aside and focus on the present moment.
Like the man beside her, Rae was quite taken with the display. With her ability also, albeit secretly, switched on, she was able to watch the auras emanate, and radiate, with colors special to both Whit and Petra, and it excited her. The extraordinary quality of an individual that made them distinct, like a red streak on a white canvas, or a grain of sugar amidst the taste of salt, it never ceased to catch her interest.
"Nice to meet you, Petra," Sam admitted cordially, which brought Rae out of her little world to which she repeated his greeting, and they all exchanged handshakes. They both mentally assessed that, Whit himself was a handsome young man, Petra was also lovely, vivid, even.
Despite her outgoing tendencies, Rae was genuinely shocked as she stood there and realized she'd managed to create a little group, one that actually included herself this time. The ostracism she'd grown accustomed to made this suddenly a very foreign atmosphere. Her eyes flickered from each face, and she smiled, albeit a little unnerved as she was, for the first time that day, speechless.
Which was perfect timing considering a hologram had suddenly manifested, revealing a woman who Rae found to be absolutely gorgeous. Sam had a similar confession.
"Hello," Her voice was velvety smooth, and resonated pleasantly through speakers hidden throughout the airship. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch."
The array of students that had seemingly dispersed during the small groups introductions suddenly became more apparent, crowded together, all eager to get a better view of the projector screen, some with curiosity, some mesmerized by her looks and sophistication. Either way, this woman held the floors attention.
"You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."
Her hologram slowly faded from view, and in turn everyone rushed to get a glimpse.if where the airship was at, audibly awestruck as the ship soared in the direction said acclaimed academy, Beacon.
"Not a shabby intro," Sam remarked with approval, combing back his hair whilst he watched the audience rush and hustle. "Come on, let's take a look."
"In a crowd like that? I don't think so, I'll save the fighting for initiation," Rae concluded, but Sam ignored her words and simply tugged her along beside him. "Whit? Petra? Care to join us?"
Outside, sunshine illuminated a baby blue, cloud dotted sky, gleaming over the landscape, acres of land as far as the eye can see with an expansive city nestled on top and branching out, beside a vast, glistening cerulean ocean. Though it wasn't necessarily an uncommon sight, the excitement bubbling from within the airship was contagious, and even the cynical had to take a moment to embrace and anticipate what lies ahead.
Like the man beside her, Rae was quite taken with the display. With her ability also, albeit secretly, switched on, she was able to watch the auras emanate, and radiate, with colors special to both Whit and Petra, and it excited her. The extraordinary quality of an individual that made them distinct, like a red streak on a white canvas, or a grain of sugar amidst the taste of salt, it never ceased to catch her interest.
"Nice to meet you, Petra," Sam admitted cordially, which brought Rae out of her little world to which she repeated his greeting, and they all exchanged handshakes. They both mentally assessed that, Whit himself was a handsome young man, Petra was also lovely, vivid, even.
Despite her outgoing tendencies, Rae was genuinely shocked as she stood there and realized she'd managed to create a little group, one that actually included herself this time. The ostracism she'd grown accustomed to made this suddenly a very foreign atmosphere. Her eyes flickered from each face, and she smiled, albeit a little unnerved as she was, for the first time that day, speechless.
Which was perfect timing considering a hologram had suddenly manifested, revealing a woman who Rae found to be absolutely gorgeous. Sam had a similar confession.
"Hello," Her voice was velvety smooth, and resonated pleasantly through speakers hidden throughout the airship. "My name is Glynda Goodwitch."
The array of students that had seemingly dispersed during the small groups introductions suddenly became more apparent, crowded together, all eager to get a better view of the projector screen, some with curiosity, some mesmerized by her looks and sophistication. Either way, this woman held the floors attention.
"You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it. You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world."
Her hologram slowly faded from view, and in turn everyone rushed to get a glimpse.if where the airship was at, audibly awestruck as the ship soared in the direction said acclaimed academy, Beacon.
"Not a shabby intro," Sam remarked with approval, combing back his hair whilst he watched the audience rush and hustle. "Come on, let's take a look."
"In a crowd like that? I don't think so, I'll save the fighting for initiation," Rae concluded, but Sam ignored her words and simply tugged her along beside him. "Whit? Petra? Care to join us?"
Outside, sunshine illuminated a baby blue, cloud dotted sky, gleaming over the landscape, acres of land as far as the eye can see with an expansive city nestled on top and branching out, beside a vast, glistening cerulean ocean. Though it wasn't necessarily an uncommon sight, the excitement bubbling from within the airship was contagious, and even the cynical had to take a moment to embrace and anticipate what lies ahead.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra was happy to see the academy, taking its eclectic and sharp silhouette from her view on the ship. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, and suspected that was by design. It had the trappings of a castle, round towers and a keep, what a storyteller would think a castle looks like, but to a discerning eye would prove highly sub-optimal for defense. She made a note to look up who funded the academy's creation: someone wealthy enough to fund such a place to such a degree that he or she could impose frivolous design choices was sure to be an interesting character. Not that she thought the unknown benefactor made a bad decision, Petra would have liked the school a great deal less if it did not look like it came out of one of the more child-friendly retellings of Grimm. She nodded at Rae, smiling slightly as she answered "Yes, we'd love to join you". Whit seemed at ease with them, and despite his numerous faults, he had a fair judge of character, she was forced to admit.
She jogged slightly to catch up, dodging a short blond student with what was, in her opinion, far too big a hammer for him, and dashed past a pair of animatedly talking female students to stand level with her new friends. Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Whit catching up at a slower pace, walking quickly just behind them. Petra steered the group to where their baggage was stored, wanting to get her hands safely on Lepida and her duffel.
As they walked, and with Whit still lagging behind a second or so, Petra decided to break the brief silence. "So, Sam, Rae, where are you from? We're both from Atlas ourselves", the final few words punctuated by Whit donning his father's woolen trench coat and coming astride the group.
She jogged slightly to catch up, dodging a short blond student with what was, in her opinion, far too big a hammer for him, and dashed past a pair of animatedly talking female students to stand level with her new friends. Out of her peripheral vision, she noticed Whit catching up at a slower pace, walking quickly just behind them. Petra steered the group to where their baggage was stored, wanting to get her hands safely on Lepida and her duffel.
As they walked, and with Whit still lagging behind a second or so, Petra decided to break the brief silence. "So, Sam, Rae, where are you from? We're both from Atlas ourselves", the final few words punctuated by Whit donning his father's woolen trench coat and coming astride the group.
"Mistral, further up in the mountains," Sam answered coolly, wondering what Atlas was like compared to his home region. Vale was certainly the kingdom of sunshine, he thought, knowing his preference would be the shadowed, snow capped peaks of Mistral's mountain chain. The air was fresh as was the water, with thick, looming fog in the mornings that chilled the air, and blankets of snow that kept the atmosphere chilled and crisp. He took in a deep breath as he recalled the squalls blowing offshore from a mountainous coast, severely disappointed to only inhale the musky airship and mixed scents of strangers. There was a sudden swirl of lavender, evidently emanating from Rae who was now right beside him again. That was calming, at the least.
"Vale." Her answer was so fast and bellicose, if you hadn't been paying attention, you surely would've missed it.
"Where in Vale?" Sam inquired, though his attention was shifting onto the luggage loads, reluctance on his face as it dawned on him he'd have to really search for his what with all the students aboard.
"Oh, you know... Here and there," She lilted. Her lissome body swerved out of sight and into the barrage of people with the same intentions, off to find what little she'd packed, along with Equilux and Solstice.
"That narrows it down," He retorted sarcastically.
His blue gaze flickered back to Whit and Petra again, intrigue coating his mind once again at his new acquaintances when a question he'd had for Rae, became plausible for them, too.
"What do you two wield? Or do you rely on your semblance?" He asked. He rose a hand, thoughtfully stroking the light stubble that shadowed his jaw as he kept his attention on that, but also kept an eye out for his duffle bag.
"Vale." Her answer was so fast and bellicose, if you hadn't been paying attention, you surely would've missed it.
"Where in Vale?" Sam inquired, though his attention was shifting onto the luggage loads, reluctance on his face as it dawned on him he'd have to really search for his what with all the students aboard.
"Oh, you know... Here and there," She lilted. Her lissome body swerved out of sight and into the barrage of people with the same intentions, off to find what little she'd packed, along with Equilux and Solstice.
"That narrows it down," He retorted sarcastically.
His blue gaze flickered back to Whit and Petra again, intrigue coating his mind once again at his new acquaintances when a question he'd had for Rae, became plausible for them, too.
"What do you two wield? Or do you rely on your semblance?" He asked. He rose a hand, thoughtfully stroking the light stubble that shadowed his jaw as he kept his attention on that, but also kept an eye out for his duffle bag.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Whit saw his luggage first, and went in and grabbed it with practiced ease. He stood back up, a small brown bag in one hand, and five feet of sword in his other. The blade was long and silver, surprisingly devoid of mechanical parts, and everything below the quillons was wrapped in soft-looking back leather.He inclined his head towards the greatsword. "This is what I fight with usually. I never really liked fighting with transforming weapons, so I usually carry a rifle with me too. Petra's the mechanical one, not me."
Whit glanced over to his friend who had just extricated herself from the luggage compartment, her own bag in one hand and a much more elaborate sword on her hip, four feet long and looking straight out of a factory. Petra only nodded, obviously eager to get off the ship. Her short stature was not doing well with the press of people, and Whit looked down from his vantage point well above the median and nodded assent.
"We're going to head out, we'll meet you in the courtyard: I figure there'll be some security faff before we're allowed to chat again, and Petra never liked crowds much."
Whit glanced over to his friend who had just extricated herself from the luggage compartment, her own bag in one hand and a much more elaborate sword on her hip, four feet long and looking straight out of a factory. Petra only nodded, obviously eager to get off the ship. Her short stature was not doing well with the press of people, and Whit looked down from his vantage point well above the median and nodded assent.
"We're going to head out, we'll meet you in the courtyard: I figure there'll be some security faff before we're allowed to chat again, and Petra never liked crowds much."
Sam acknowledged both of their weapons with admiration, rarely one to underestimate. To him, no matter what you were armed with, so long as it served it's purpose, it was noteworthy in his book.
"I get what you mean. I rely more on my semblance really," He told Whit honestly, and then nodded as the man affirmed he and Petra were heading out. "Hopefully we'll catch you there. I'm going to go find my luggage... And Rae."
But as their figures faded, mixed into a thinning crowd of students eager to leave, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, followed by hearing a heavy thud that made him whip around.
"Sammy!" Rae greeted him with a bit of exasperation, a redness spreading on her shoulder. He wondered where that'd come from, but as he searched for the source of the noise he realized there, at his feet, were his duffle bags.
"Rae, did you carry those all by yourself?"
"More like dragged," She laughed wearily, swinging a much smaller bag in her other hand. "What the hell is in there, a body?"
"What's in yours, dust?" He asked mockingly.
"I travel light." She huffed, and then cocked her head forward, "I know you're secretly wishing I'd come with you, so, I'll do you the honor."
"Mmm, what an ego she has."
The two then left the airship impetuously, contiguous as they took to hurrying out onto the docks, maneuvering in and out of the rush, and eventually making their way to the same destination as their friends, taking their time as Rae more so wanted to let everything sink in.
"I get what you mean. I rely more on my semblance really," He told Whit honestly, and then nodded as the man affirmed he and Petra were heading out. "Hopefully we'll catch you there. I'm going to go find my luggage... And Rae."
But as their figures faded, mixed into a thinning crowd of students eager to leave, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, followed by hearing a heavy thud that made him whip around.
"Sammy!" Rae greeted him with a bit of exasperation, a redness spreading on her shoulder. He wondered where that'd come from, but as he searched for the source of the noise he realized there, at his feet, were his duffle bags.
"Rae, did you carry those all by yourself?"
"More like dragged," She laughed wearily, swinging a much smaller bag in her other hand. "What the hell is in there, a body?"
"What's in yours, dust?" He asked mockingly.
"I travel light." She huffed, and then cocked her head forward, "I know you're secretly wishing I'd come with you, so, I'll do you the honor."
"Mmm, what an ego she has."
The two then left the airship impetuously, contiguous as they took to hurrying out onto the docks, maneuvering in and out of the rush, and eventually making their way to the same destination as their friends, taking their time as Rae more so wanted to let everything sink in.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra walked ahead of Whit, seeing an acquaintance she had met at a tournament somewhere. Iska, maybe? Istra? Something like that. Petra skirted around the name as they talked. Their conversation began as it was expected to go: an initial surge of 'holy shit you came to Beacon!' Followed by 'I sure am excited to be here at Beacon, I hope it is great'. That second phase of the conversation lasted longer than Petra thought was entirely necessary, her tuning out her old acquaintance, memories of why they had not stayed in communication after the regionals flashing back in her mind. Petra fiddled with Lepida on her hip, and glanced longingly at Whit, who was having a much more enjoyable silent, peaceful stroll along the path, idly looking at people as they past his tall form, occasionally drawing glances due to his weapon, which he had on his shoulder, the guard on his back, supported by his grasping hand as a lever. Petra had tried to convince him that a folding weapon would be a good idea, but he would have none of it. She had long since given up trying to convince him, and now simply resorted to mocking him at any given opportunity.
Her face asked him to extricate her from her present situation, her big blue eyes full of regret. He only responded by grinning and shaking his head slightly, moving off to meet back up with Sam and Rae, two people she would much rather be talking to right now.
Her face asked him to extricate her from her present situation, her big blue eyes full of regret. He only responded by grinning and shaking his head slightly, moving off to meet back up with Sam and Rae, two people she would much rather be talking to right now.
They'd taken a longer route than Sam had anticipated, walking briskly but only for the sake of 'taking it all in' as she said; whilst he urged her that an earlier arrival would be in their favor, the brunette simply laughed. When he asked what was so funny, she responded with, 'You had me at early.'
He should've seen that one coming.
Somehow she'd managed to persuade him to carry her bag as well, although he clearly remembers refusing every line she threw at him, no matter what the appeal. So, she walked without weight just a pace or two ahead of him, strides long and ballerina like, whilst he lugged around their belongings a couple steps behind, finally feeling the pressure of his duffle bags weighing him down.
"Maybe it is a body. I forget."
"Told you!"
They'd both kept an eye open for the friendly faces they'd met upon the airship, assuming they weren't too far considering they left only a short while after. Sam had expected her to 'break the ice' as she had been with several more people and faunus alike on the way towards the courtyards entrance, however, every time he mentioned someone that stood out a little to him: like a man cloaked in maroon baring two, glistening Schmitars and a scar with a story, or a feral, fanged fox-human mix with brass knuckles baring extended claws, she dramatically denied their allure, claiming he needed to leave the people watching to her, and that if she saw anyone of interest, she'd point it out.
"Oh, I see someone," She finally said as they came upon the courtyard, admiring the towering structure that was indeed Beacon.
(Cause I fail, imagine this spot as the same one Ruby was in when she met Weiss. Weiss is awesome. K. Bye.)
There were carts placed a long the way filled with luggage, a few higher class, perhaps older, students grabbed quality suitcases filled with who knows what. He assumed they had perks of some sort, but didn't waste his time wondering what those could be.
He took this moment to drop the backs, rolling his broad shoulders that now felt considerably better- blood circulation was kind of important, after all. He sucked in a deep breath, but inky inhaled the scents of lavender and dust. "Where?"
"Over theeeere," She hummed, and yet again wandered off. He watched her, she hadn't strayed far, and to his surprise he hadn't noticed Whit standing over there, apparently striding right towards them. He sighed, couldn't she have just said so?
"Whit!" She mirrored his grin, coming to a slow stop and warmly acknowledging him. "I'm glad we found each other before anything big happens- Mmm, where's Petra?" She asked, envisioning the pretty young woman in her mind and then letting her semblance do the rest, searching amidst the palatial setting for that familiar face amongst so many strangers. The woman wasn't too far off, and was apparently miserable from what Rae picked up.
"Whit," Sam greeted him from a ways away.
He should've seen that one coming.
Somehow she'd managed to persuade him to carry her bag as well, although he clearly remembers refusing every line she threw at him, no matter what the appeal. So, she walked without weight just a pace or two ahead of him, strides long and ballerina like, whilst he lugged around their belongings a couple steps behind, finally feeling the pressure of his duffle bags weighing him down.
"Maybe it is a body. I forget."
"Told you!"
They'd both kept an eye open for the friendly faces they'd met upon the airship, assuming they weren't too far considering they left only a short while after. Sam had expected her to 'break the ice' as she had been with several more people and faunus alike on the way towards the courtyards entrance, however, every time he mentioned someone that stood out a little to him: like a man cloaked in maroon baring two, glistening Schmitars and a scar with a story, or a feral, fanged fox-human mix with brass knuckles baring extended claws, she dramatically denied their allure, claiming he needed to leave the people watching to her, and that if she saw anyone of interest, she'd point it out.
"Oh, I see someone," She finally said as they came upon the courtyard, admiring the towering structure that was indeed Beacon.
(Cause I fail, imagine this spot as the same one Ruby was in when she met Weiss. Weiss is awesome. K. Bye.)
There were carts placed a long the way filled with luggage, a few higher class, perhaps older, students grabbed quality suitcases filled with who knows what. He assumed they had perks of some sort, but didn't waste his time wondering what those could be.
He took this moment to drop the backs, rolling his broad shoulders that now felt considerably better- blood circulation was kind of important, after all. He sucked in a deep breath, but inky inhaled the scents of lavender and dust. "Where?"
"Over theeeere," She hummed, and yet again wandered off. He watched her, she hadn't strayed far, and to his surprise he hadn't noticed Whit standing over there, apparently striding right towards them. He sighed, couldn't she have just said so?
"Whit!" She mirrored his grin, coming to a slow stop and warmly acknowledging him. "I'm glad we found each other before anything big happens- Mmm, where's Petra?" She asked, envisioning the pretty young woman in her mind and then letting her semblance do the rest, searching amidst the palatial setting for that familiar face amongst so many strangers. The woman wasn't too far off, and was apparently miserable from what Rae picked up.
"Whit," Sam greeted him from a ways away.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Whit grinned and fell into lockstep with Rae. "Petra made a poor decision, and I figure I shouldn't take this precious learning opportunity from her. Do you know where we're meant to go? I haven't the foggiest idea myself. I figure there is some orientation or something, then we choose teams, but I doubt that's happening today."
Increasingly further away, Petra was still being talked at. She payed attention for a second, reorienting her in the conversation just long enough to understand she was on the receiving end of a story about a fight with a Hydra, surely less impressive than her companion thought. Her mood worsened, but was pulled out of her mood as she was pulled by the shoulder, her walk disrupted. She had to beat back the instinct to immediately turn on her semblance, and turned to see a rather handsome man, medium-length blond hair on a well-formed face, rather taller than her. As her eyes panned down his form, she noticed he was built like Adonis, all muscle underneath dark skin. His hand let go of her shoulder and he said to her in a hurried, deep voice "There you are! Stars, I was looking for you, we need to hurry, I found where we're meant to be going, but we're in a bit of a rush".
Petra managed to stop herself from breaking the act for just a second as she responded "Thanks for that, I was getting really worried. Lets go, no time to waste". She turned to her previous companion and smiled apologetically as she hurried away, ignoring protests that claimed the meeting was in the opposite direction.
Once they reached a safe distance, they slowed to a more ambulatory pace. Petra figured this was as good a time as any to initiate conversation. She looked up at his green eyes and said "You have no idea how much you helped me just there. I'm Petra, by the way."
"I'm Duke. Its a pleasure to meet you Petra, and don't worry about it. It's the obligation of anyone to help a friend in need, and I can already tell we're going to get along very well."
Petra could feel the day getting better already.
Increasingly further away, Petra was still being talked at. She payed attention for a second, reorienting her in the conversation just long enough to understand she was on the receiving end of a story about a fight with a Hydra, surely less impressive than her companion thought. Her mood worsened, but was pulled out of her mood as she was pulled by the shoulder, her walk disrupted. She had to beat back the instinct to immediately turn on her semblance, and turned to see a rather handsome man, medium-length blond hair on a well-formed face, rather taller than her. As her eyes panned down his form, she noticed he was built like Adonis, all muscle underneath dark skin. His hand let go of her shoulder and he said to her in a hurried, deep voice "There you are! Stars, I was looking for you, we need to hurry, I found where we're meant to be going, but we're in a bit of a rush".
Petra managed to stop herself from breaking the act for just a second as she responded "Thanks for that, I was getting really worried. Lets go, no time to waste". She turned to her previous companion and smiled apologetically as she hurried away, ignoring protests that claimed the meeting was in the opposite direction.
Once they reached a safe distance, they slowed to a more ambulatory pace. Petra figured this was as good a time as any to initiate conversation. She looked up at his green eyes and said "You have no idea how much you helped me just there. I'm Petra, by the way."
"I'm Duke. Its a pleasure to meet you Petra, and don't worry about it. It's the obligation of anyone to help a friend in need, and I can already tell we're going to get along very well."
Petra could feel the day getting better already.
Whit's assumption was right.
Within the hour, everyone who'd been aboard the air ship filled the palatial amphitheater, eagerly chatting away, voices resonating off the walls and creating a lilting hum amidst the atmosphere. It was a little humid, for some, exciting, others, nerve wracking. All the same, energy was buzzing, almost tangible.
The chatting abruptly ceased.
"Ahem," Came a deep voice with a purr to it. All eyes were on the stage, where the revered Professor Ozpin, accompanied by Glynda Goodwitch, stood; posture straight, demeanor alluring, eyes sharp as they observed the audience before them. They held an air of authority, one that no one, at least not here, dared to interrupt.
"Your pursuit of knowledge, aspirations to hone your craft and acquire new skills, has brought you to the gates of Beacon. The protection of the people is what you hope to be your life's work, a dedicated, altruistic and admirable thought."
His expression remained apathetic. "But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."
After a moment of pause, the man left the stage. Glynda approached the mic next, her tone sharp and assertive. "You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your initial begins. Be ready."
She, too, left the stage, leaving the students to start talking again.
"He's so handsome," Rae breathed amongst the voices, her cheeks yet again dusted pink. "And Miss Goodwitch is captivating!"
"That's what you took from the speech?" Sam scoffed, unimpressed himself. That wasn't the most motivation wording he'd ever heard, and the Ozpin's tone definitely stirred up a bit of controversy. "And no, he's not."
She smirked and waved Sam off. "So, the ballroom, eh? That sounds like the exact opposite of comfortable." But it didn't really matter to her, Rae would have a difficult time sleeping on a cloud.
"Best go claim a spot, everyone's heading out already," Sam observed, and wondered if Petra and Whit would come, or if this was where they parted ways till further notice. Though their friendship was sudden, new and hardly predictable, he had a feeling Rae wasn't breaking away from him anytime soon. Usually, that'd put him on edge, but he actually didn't shun it, he just chose not to fully acknowledge it, either.
"You guys heading there?" He asked, and started towards the exit, pulling out his scroll to double check the layout of the academy. Rae hummed mallifluously beside him.
Within the hour, everyone who'd been aboard the air ship filled the palatial amphitheater, eagerly chatting away, voices resonating off the walls and creating a lilting hum amidst the atmosphere. It was a little humid, for some, exciting, others, nerve wracking. All the same, energy was buzzing, almost tangible.
The chatting abruptly ceased.
"Ahem," Came a deep voice with a purr to it. All eyes were on the stage, where the revered Professor Ozpin, accompanied by Glynda Goodwitch, stood; posture straight, demeanor alluring, eyes sharp as they observed the audience before them. They held an air of authority, one that no one, at least not here, dared to interrupt.
"Your pursuit of knowledge, aspirations to hone your craft and acquire new skills, has brought you to the gates of Beacon. The protection of the people is what you hope to be your life's work, a dedicated, altruistic and admirable thought."
His expression remained apathetic. "But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."
After a moment of pause, the man left the stage. Glynda approached the mic next, her tone sharp and assertive. "You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow, your initial begins. Be ready."
She, too, left the stage, leaving the students to start talking again.
"He's so handsome," Rae breathed amongst the voices, her cheeks yet again dusted pink. "And Miss Goodwitch is captivating!"
"That's what you took from the speech?" Sam scoffed, unimpressed himself. That wasn't the most motivation wording he'd ever heard, and the Ozpin's tone definitely stirred up a bit of controversy. "And no, he's not."
She smirked and waved Sam off. "So, the ballroom, eh? That sounds like the exact opposite of comfortable." But it didn't really matter to her, Rae would have a difficult time sleeping on a cloud.
"Best go claim a spot, everyone's heading out already," Sam observed, and wondered if Petra and Whit would come, or if this was where they parted ways till further notice. Though their friendship was sudden, new and hardly predictable, he had a feeling Rae wasn't breaking away from him anytime soon. Usually, that'd put him on edge, but he actually didn't shun it, he just chose not to fully acknowledge it, either.
"You guys heading there?" He asked, and started towards the exit, pulling out his scroll to double check the layout of the academy. Rae hummed mallifluously beside him.
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra was bored, and rather irritated by the professor's speech. She whispered conspiratorially to Whit. "I'm not sure I follow him, to be honest. We are looking for knowledge, but it will not help us achieve our goals. We are wasted energy in need of purpose and direction, but he expects those same purposeless people to create their purpose ex nihilo."
Whit, eager to distract himself from the proceedings "I'm not sure that is what he means. Maybe he is saying we need a combination of determination, which he implied we will gain from the time hear at Beacon, and knowledge, which we will gain regardless, to progress."
"But isn't purpose just more information about our lives and goals?"
"I don't know, I am not sure why he draws a distinction."
"I think it lends credence to the hypothesis that he has a poor view of rationality: maybe he thinks that educated decisions will not be enough to do what is necessary"
"Well, that is possible. His claim that we are purposeless, and yet just before said we came here looking for knowledge, adds light evidence to that. Not sure what to make of that statement otherwise."
"Perhaps he looks with derision on the traditional higher education system, or thinks that acquiring knowledge is a waste of time."
"That would make sense, given his line of work. Regardless, we'll just have to show him that he's wrong"
"Perhaps we should investigate further: he is a professor, and has probably been doing this for many years: it would be wise to be cautious in dismissing his opinions outright"
"Euch, you know I hate the word wise: always makes me think of pretentious old men. Perhaps he knows something about combating Grimm that Professor Robin did not?"
"I doubt that: maybe they simply have different styles of motivating people to do good: I expect Ozpin stressing emotional imperatives and a 'higher meaning' to the work of Hunting would be very effective at gulling the impressionable into the trade. The Professor simply uses methods more suited to the reasonable"
"Be careful of looking for explanations to defend authority: such things become erroneous very quickly. It would fit the stereotype if the professor of the school is a high-level manipulator, though."
"True. It would be nice if the stories were right for once, I figure such stories will not fare well through our hunting careers."
They continued for a while, bouncing ideas off each other as to the nature of the Professor. They failed to reach a consensus, citing insufficient evidence, but continued for long enough to speak through the entirety of the opening ceremony. They were pulled from their conversation by Sam.
Petra grimaced at Whit, their situation immediately apparent. She shepishly asked, "Going where?", and Whit reinforced the sentiment with an apologetic gesture from behind Petra.
Whit, eager to distract himself from the proceedings "I'm not sure that is what he means. Maybe he is saying we need a combination of determination, which he implied we will gain from the time hear at Beacon, and knowledge, which we will gain regardless, to progress."
"But isn't purpose just more information about our lives and goals?"
"I don't know, I am not sure why he draws a distinction."
"I think it lends credence to the hypothesis that he has a poor view of rationality: maybe he thinks that educated decisions will not be enough to do what is necessary"
"Well, that is possible. His claim that we are purposeless, and yet just before said we came here looking for knowledge, adds light evidence to that. Not sure what to make of that statement otherwise."
"Perhaps he looks with derision on the traditional higher education system, or thinks that acquiring knowledge is a waste of time."
"That would make sense, given his line of work. Regardless, we'll just have to show him that he's wrong"
"Perhaps we should investigate further: he is a professor, and has probably been doing this for many years: it would be wise to be cautious in dismissing his opinions outright"
"Euch, you know I hate the word wise: always makes me think of pretentious old men. Perhaps he knows something about combating Grimm that Professor Robin did not?"
"I doubt that: maybe they simply have different styles of motivating people to do good: I expect Ozpin stressing emotional imperatives and a 'higher meaning' to the work of Hunting would be very effective at gulling the impressionable into the trade. The Professor simply uses methods more suited to the reasonable"
"Be careful of looking for explanations to defend authority: such things become erroneous very quickly. It would fit the stereotype if the professor of the school is a high-level manipulator, though."
"True. It would be nice if the stories were right for once, I figure such stories will not fare well through our hunting careers."
They continued for a while, bouncing ideas off each other as to the nature of the Professor. They failed to reach a consensus, citing insufficient evidence, but continued for long enough to speak through the entirety of the opening ceremony. They were pulled from their conversation by Sam.
Petra grimaced at Whit, their situation immediately apparent. She shepishly asked, "Going where?", and Whit reinforced the sentiment with an apologetic gesture from behind Petra.
"To the ballroom. That's where we're all spending the night," Sam said lowly, unaware he'd interrupted their conversation. His blue eyes remained focused on the scroll that'd lead him to said room, ears trained on what it was that Rae was humming softly beside him, mind still revolving around Ozpin's speech. He didn't know what to make of the man or his companion yet, in fact, he was still figuring out whether or not he should be infuriated, motivated or just completely disregard that alleged speech. Not one to dwell on the words of another, Sam attempted to change the course of his thoughts.
"You two sure are analytical," Rae addressed Whit and Petra, though the statement wasn't a remark at all, for the brunette herself was so often lost in thought, looking at everything through several unique lenses. She herself had no quarrel with the Professor's wording, in fact, she kind of agreed. To know is not to be, she figured, and then furrowed her thin, groomed brows whilst she tried to further, mentally, elaborate on that.
She gasped when a sudden strong grip whirled her out of the direction she'd been walking in, just barely moving her out of the way of a towering Faunus, eyes coal black and piercing, with shoulder length, bristly hair with a syrupy hue framing a fair complexion. Rounded, similarly colored ears sat atop his head, furry and pinned back defensively. Her head tilted upwards to see, to her relief, it'd been Sam who'd had a hold on her, but when her eyes flickered back to the Faunus, his glare was down right menacing.
"Watch where you're going, freshmeat," He snarled, his canines particularly sharp as they flaunted under fluorescent lights.
"I'll walk wherever the hell I want, and I won't resort to name calling to make that point," She barked back, to which the man audibly snarled and took a step forward. However, briskly, Sam stepped in between, their heights leveled and neither one any less intimidating. "Don't even think about it."
A moment of silent animosity held an impression in the atmosphere, before a new voice interrupted.
"That's enough," Glynda snapped, and separated the two without even touching them. "Mr. Ursidae, I do hope you're not planning to cause trouble."
"Not at all, Miss Goodwitch." He growled sardonically, shoving past Sam who only swallowed his urge to respond.
"And Mr. Aerosol," Glynda addressed him sharply. "I encourage you to avoid trouble on the campus. Wouldn't want to taint that impeccable reputation of yours."
His face visibly hardened, but he nodded in response. "That won't be an issue."
"I should hope not. Off you go," She gestured for them to leave, turned sharply on her heel and disappeared.
"Thanks, Sam-"
"Don't mention it," He added, "Lets get out of here."
"You two sure are analytical," Rae addressed Whit and Petra, though the statement wasn't a remark at all, for the brunette herself was so often lost in thought, looking at everything through several unique lenses. She herself had no quarrel with the Professor's wording, in fact, she kind of agreed. To know is not to be, she figured, and then furrowed her thin, groomed brows whilst she tried to further, mentally, elaborate on that.
She gasped when a sudden strong grip whirled her out of the direction she'd been walking in, just barely moving her out of the way of a towering Faunus, eyes coal black and piercing, with shoulder length, bristly hair with a syrupy hue framing a fair complexion. Rounded, similarly colored ears sat atop his head, furry and pinned back defensively. Her head tilted upwards to see, to her relief, it'd been Sam who'd had a hold on her, but when her eyes flickered back to the Faunus, his glare was down right menacing.
"Watch where you're going, freshmeat," He snarled, his canines particularly sharp as they flaunted under fluorescent lights.
"I'll walk wherever the hell I want, and I won't resort to name calling to make that point," She barked back, to which the man audibly snarled and took a step forward. However, briskly, Sam stepped in between, their heights leveled and neither one any less intimidating. "Don't even think about it."
A moment of silent animosity held an impression in the atmosphere, before a new voice interrupted.
"That's enough," Glynda snapped, and separated the two without even touching them. "Mr. Ursidae, I do hope you're not planning to cause trouble."
"Not at all, Miss Goodwitch." He growled sardonically, shoving past Sam who only swallowed his urge to respond.
"And Mr. Aerosol," Glynda addressed him sharply. "I encourage you to avoid trouble on the campus. Wouldn't want to taint that impeccable reputation of yours."
His face visibly hardened, but he nodded in response. "That won't be an issue."
"I should hope not. Off you go," She gestured for them to leave, turned sharply on her heel and disappeared.
"Thanks, Sam-"
"Don't mention it," He added, "Lets get out of here."
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra and Whit's conversation did not stop after their destination, but after the incident with Mr. Bear it swapped. Petra spoke first once the confrontation was over.
"I suppose the rude are never far. I erroneously thought such things would be gone in higher education.". Whit chuckled.
"Dominance contests are important among groups of peers, and a school of accomplished fighters is probably going to make those contests violent"
"But they're not even creatively violent. If there was some subtlety, it would be less offensive. One would think that after graduation more intricate power contests would arise"
"I bet he found his dominant strategy: being a tall glass of water that weighs more than two of the people you're being a thug towards seems effective to me"
"But at Beacon, he must be aware that size is not everything. Plenty of small women are famous huntresses"
"That does not mean there is no correlation, and I suspect someone that brazen has other advantages than his size. Intimidating, regardless."
"Indubitably." Petra raised her voice slightly, obviously talking to Sam and Rae "It speaks well of our new friend that he is willing to stare that person down"
Whit joined the louder conversation "Petra, do I hear you, the most cautious person I have met advocating for possibly self-destructive actions?"
Their conversation lowered to a more appropriate volume as Petra frowned "Whit, you know what I meant. He is obviously playing for status, and hopefully knew that nothing would come of it"
Whit whispered "I think you think too highly of Sam. He seems the type of man with more bravado than brains, if I were to wager", hiding his mouth slightly, attempting to not be heard.
Petra thought it would be prudent to change the subject as they walked into the great hall, stopping to look at the arrayed sleeping bags and scattered luggage. They both chose a spot to the side as they waved 'goodnight' to their companions, assuring them they would reconvene in the morning, before initiation.
They both began laying out sleeping bags, and after stripping off everything but their underwear [Atlas combat school, at least, beat shyness out of their hunters-in-training], slipped into their bags. Whit began listening to music again, and Petra was out like a light. They were both excited for the next day.
"I suppose the rude are never far. I erroneously thought such things would be gone in higher education.". Whit chuckled.
"Dominance contests are important among groups of peers, and a school of accomplished fighters is probably going to make those contests violent"
"But they're not even creatively violent. If there was some subtlety, it would be less offensive. One would think that after graduation more intricate power contests would arise"
"I bet he found his dominant strategy: being a tall glass of water that weighs more than two of the people you're being a thug towards seems effective to me"
"But at Beacon, he must be aware that size is not everything. Plenty of small women are famous huntresses"
"That does not mean there is no correlation, and I suspect someone that brazen has other advantages than his size. Intimidating, regardless."
"Indubitably." Petra raised her voice slightly, obviously talking to Sam and Rae "It speaks well of our new friend that he is willing to stare that person down"
Whit joined the louder conversation "Petra, do I hear you, the most cautious person I have met advocating for possibly self-destructive actions?"
Their conversation lowered to a more appropriate volume as Petra frowned "Whit, you know what I meant. He is obviously playing for status, and hopefully knew that nothing would come of it"
Whit whispered "I think you think too highly of Sam. He seems the type of man with more bravado than brains, if I were to wager", hiding his mouth slightly, attempting to not be heard.
Petra thought it would be prudent to change the subject as they walked into the great hall, stopping to look at the arrayed sleeping bags and scattered luggage. They both chose a spot to the side as they waved 'goodnight' to their companions, assuring them they would reconvene in the morning, before initiation.
They both began laying out sleeping bags, and after stripping off everything but their underwear [Atlas combat school, at least, beat shyness out of their hunters-in-training], slipped into their bags. Whit began listening to music again, and Petra was out like a light. They were both excited for the next day.
"I've never slept in a sleeping bag before," Rae told Sam as they parted ways with their companions, walking side by side, both emanating the same stiffness. Neither had really taken into accord all that had been converted on their way here, their minds still back at the entry way. It wasn't the man that was bothering them, their former dwelling hadn't been void of unnecessary animosity.
Sam pondered on the moment, replaying his reaction over and over; it'd happened too fast, like those seven seconds on a roller coaster, you know you rode it, but the event itself is blurred, happened too fast to even recall how you'd felt. To step inbetween a disturbance that wasn't his doing without any hesitancy, and further arouse the one who'd initiated it with provoking commentary? Out of character, not his place to be, unlike him to act, even with noble intentions. And for a stranger, no less. Or, three strangers; realistically, despite him not fully comprehending what'd brought the emotions about, as well as the obvious truth that Petra and Whit could defend themselves, had the Faunus advanced on either, however unlikely, Sam would have stepped in and ended it before 'it' could ever begin.
That truth unnerved him, and even then he didn't understand why being a little protective made him feel so... foreign to himself. He was known to be that way in Mistral, then again, he'd been raised there and knew most the people by name. Here? Foreigners, all of them.
"Mmm?" He arched a brow at the brunettes confession, taking a moment to derail his train of thought, at least long enough to process her question and answer. "Then I'll have to warn you know, they're not very comfortable."
"Bummer," She sighed with disdain, her hair swaying behind her hips with every stride. They found their spots after a bit of needless strolling around the ballroom, further in the back, near the wall, with a little nightstand and a lit candle flickering above it.
"Why here?" Sam asked, noting he'd mostly just followed her as he thought, waiting for her to make up her mind.
Rae bit on the inside of her cheek, "I, um... Prefer not to sleep in total darkness."
"Scared of the dark?" He chuckled a little, but tried not to make light of something that made her fair face grimace so dramatically.
"What's in it, yes," She murmured. Whilst the two fell back into silence, setting up their make shift sleeping arrangements, Sam considered what she'd said.
The pair settled in, listening to the distant snores and stirring of individuals underneath their bedding. Their attempts to sleep had been valiant efforts, but merely allowed two hours to pass before Sam propped himself up on his elbow, hovering beside Rae who's eyes left their ceiling imagery scavenger hunt and met his, mirroring his thoughtfulness.
"The flame of a candle won't keep Grimm away," he told her, his irises mirroring that of the oceans offing as they met hers underneath his obsidian, fallen locks. "Just because the lights are on, doesn't mean that'll thwart the enemies intentions."
"I know that!" She told him defensively, it appeared she'd expected him to make that point at some moment in time. "It's not entirely relevant to that. Why I keep the lights on when I sleep, I mean."
"Elaborate?"
She exhaled deeply, resting her delicate arms atop her stomach. "I've had night terrors since I was really little. My semblance, my aura... It's hyper sensitive, so I've come in contact with a lot of... darkness, like a clairvoyant, you know? All of my senses, the sixth especially, are affected, mostly in my dreams, which wakes me up and takes my breath away at night. It's led me to be rather... nocturnal."
"Things?" He repeated, prompting her to further explan. It was very late, so they'd drawn closer to each other whilst still leaving a respectful amount of space, whispering, hushed as possible, faces illuminated with a golden glow by the sporadically twitching candles ember.
"Grimm, I suppose." She answered, though she honestly wasn't always sure if that's what the horrible images were. "Just... terrifyingly, lucid, disturbing concepts."
"Did you...-"
"-Go to a doctor for it? Several. They only prescribed medication and diagnosed me with some ridiculous acronyms. I won't take anything it's said that medication can damage your aura, nor will I be titled and disregarded," She told him, and her words underlined the term 'non-negotiable'.
"Seems like you're a little bundle of complexities," He smirked, to which she just rolled her big eyes in response.
"You have no idea." Though she responded with the same playfulness, the surprise at him not remarking further, or packing up his things and leaving the avid dreamer to deal by herself, was evident in her incredulous eyes.
He smirked again, eventually laying back against his bed and humming in acknowledgement when she whispered a half hearted, "Good night, Sammy."
Sam grimaced at the nickname.
---
As the academy was enveloped with the blinding rays of dawns first light, filled with the chill of the morning; shuffling, yawning and the bickering of those who weren't early risers filled the air. Alarm clocks buzzed, scrolls vibrated, and the expectant types whined in protests. Inevitably, however, everyone was awake and, at different speeds, were readying themselves for the day ahead of them.
"It's Initiation day," Rae hummed mallifluously, all of her belongings already packed up and set to the side. She herself was not an early riser, luckily for however, her dreams were tolerable (proximity helped, of course) and so she managed to gain enough rest to not wake up and thro a whining fit, which, given certain circumstances, she wasn't above doing.
Sam rolled his eyes, speculating Behemoth and Leviathan before he settled them in their places, respectfully. "No, really?"
"Don't be sassy," came her retort, as she combed her lengthy, honey hair with great focus.
(I'm still figuring out his weaponry. Also, I'm lacking a bit, I lost my voice and ehhhh I feel so sick.)
Sam pondered on the moment, replaying his reaction over and over; it'd happened too fast, like those seven seconds on a roller coaster, you know you rode it, but the event itself is blurred, happened too fast to even recall how you'd felt. To step inbetween a disturbance that wasn't his doing without any hesitancy, and further arouse the one who'd initiated it with provoking commentary? Out of character, not his place to be, unlike him to act, even with noble intentions. And for a stranger, no less. Or, three strangers; realistically, despite him not fully comprehending what'd brought the emotions about, as well as the obvious truth that Petra and Whit could defend themselves, had the Faunus advanced on either, however unlikely, Sam would have stepped in and ended it before 'it' could ever begin.
That truth unnerved him, and even then he didn't understand why being a little protective made him feel so... foreign to himself. He was known to be that way in Mistral, then again, he'd been raised there and knew most the people by name. Here? Foreigners, all of them.
"Mmm?" He arched a brow at the brunettes confession, taking a moment to derail his train of thought, at least long enough to process her question and answer. "Then I'll have to warn you know, they're not very comfortable."
"Bummer," She sighed with disdain, her hair swaying behind her hips with every stride. They found their spots after a bit of needless strolling around the ballroom, further in the back, near the wall, with a little nightstand and a lit candle flickering above it.
"Why here?" Sam asked, noting he'd mostly just followed her as he thought, waiting for her to make up her mind.
Rae bit on the inside of her cheek, "I, um... Prefer not to sleep in total darkness."
"Scared of the dark?" He chuckled a little, but tried not to make light of something that made her fair face grimace so dramatically.
"What's in it, yes," She murmured. Whilst the two fell back into silence, setting up their make shift sleeping arrangements, Sam considered what she'd said.
The pair settled in, listening to the distant snores and stirring of individuals underneath their bedding. Their attempts to sleep had been valiant efforts, but merely allowed two hours to pass before Sam propped himself up on his elbow, hovering beside Rae who's eyes left their ceiling imagery scavenger hunt and met his, mirroring his thoughtfulness.
"The flame of a candle won't keep Grimm away," he told her, his irises mirroring that of the oceans offing as they met hers underneath his obsidian, fallen locks. "Just because the lights are on, doesn't mean that'll thwart the enemies intentions."
"I know that!" She told him defensively, it appeared she'd expected him to make that point at some moment in time. "It's not entirely relevant to that. Why I keep the lights on when I sleep, I mean."
"Elaborate?"
She exhaled deeply, resting her delicate arms atop her stomach. "I've had night terrors since I was really little. My semblance, my aura... It's hyper sensitive, so I've come in contact with a lot of... darkness, like a clairvoyant, you know? All of my senses, the sixth especially, are affected, mostly in my dreams, which wakes me up and takes my breath away at night. It's led me to be rather... nocturnal."
"Things?" He repeated, prompting her to further explan. It was very late, so they'd drawn closer to each other whilst still leaving a respectful amount of space, whispering, hushed as possible, faces illuminated with a golden glow by the sporadically twitching candles ember.
"Grimm, I suppose." She answered, though she honestly wasn't always sure if that's what the horrible images were. "Just... terrifyingly, lucid, disturbing concepts."
"Did you...-"
"-Go to a doctor for it? Several. They only prescribed medication and diagnosed me with some ridiculous acronyms. I won't take anything it's said that medication can damage your aura, nor will I be titled and disregarded," She told him, and her words underlined the term 'non-negotiable'.
"Seems like you're a little bundle of complexities," He smirked, to which she just rolled her big eyes in response.
"You have no idea." Though she responded with the same playfulness, the surprise at him not remarking further, or packing up his things and leaving the avid dreamer to deal by herself, was evident in her incredulous eyes.
He smirked again, eventually laying back against his bed and humming in acknowledgement when she whispered a half hearted, "Good night, Sammy."
Sam grimaced at the nickname.
---
As the academy was enveloped with the blinding rays of dawns first light, filled with the chill of the morning; shuffling, yawning and the bickering of those who weren't early risers filled the air. Alarm clocks buzzed, scrolls vibrated, and the expectant types whined in protests. Inevitably, however, everyone was awake and, at different speeds, were readying themselves for the day ahead of them.
"It's Initiation day," Rae hummed mallifluously, all of her belongings already packed up and set to the side. She herself was not an early riser, luckily for however, her dreams were tolerable (proximity helped, of course) and so she managed to gain enough rest to not wake up and thro a whining fit, which, given certain circumstances, she wasn't above doing.
Sam rolled his eyes, speculating Behemoth and Leviathan before he settled them in their places, respectfully. "No, really?"
"Don't be sassy," came her retort, as she combed her lengthy, honey hair with great focus.
(I'm still figuring out his weaponry. Also, I'm lacking a bit, I lost my voice and ehhhh I feel so sick.)
Last edited by a moderator:
Pentagon
Newtype Magic
Petra was up before the majority of her fellow students. It was not that she had not slept well: she had always been a sound, if light, sleeper, and had had no trouble finding a comfortable section of floor to doze on. She simply enjoyed being the first awake. There was something profound to her about being conscious around others that were not, as though her solitary perceptions were somehow special. Idle romanticism, she freely admitted, but indulging in it never hurt anyone, and had the advantage of keeping her sleep schedule regular, something she knew her fellow hunters-in-training had difficulty with. The clear clusters of students sleeping had become much more chaotic in the night, the teenage occupants of the bags in various states of disarray, spread my unconscious tossing and turning into an oddly entropic mess, forming an even film over the hard wood floor. Petra noticed a few other early risers, six in total, and made the obligatory greetings to them, a feeling of shared experience prompting more friendliness than otherwise necessary.
Petra wriggled out of her bag, in which she had been sitting stock upright in, and made haste to clothe herself, regretting slightly her choice of sleepwear. A pair of tight-fitting black pants and a forest green t-shirt would suffice until her gear-up for initiation, and she pulled a small thermos out of her pack, one she had been saving since packing. A pull of a string at the bottom of the small metal tube activated an array that sucked a tiny sliver of a Burn crystal dry, heating up the otherwise cold coffee inside. Petra thanked modern science for the convenience of easy-to-store giant reserves of energy, and leaned against a wall drinking her steaming beverage, thinking about as few things as possible as she let the torpor of sleep slide off her.
Whit was not a morning person. A terrible trait for a Huntsman, he knew, but his attempts to rectify the situation had never amounted to much. He liked to think his brain had a slow acceleration but a high top speed, a battleship to his peer's smaller vessels, but even he had to admit such thoughts were dangerously self-aggrandizing. Rule Six: Never overestimate yourself, Never underestimate your foe. He figured Petra would already be awake, surely already looking smugly satisfied with herself as she watched him struggle against Hypnos, but he had gotten used to that during their final exam. He figured peeling the bandage off was the best course of action, and with one smooth action threw himself to his feet, and out of the bag, ending the action in a triumphant stretch, the heavenly feeling reaching him right as the second wave of backup alarms crashed into his ears, the first having woken him up scant few minutes ago. Clad in only his boxers, he made to put on casual clothes of dark pants and a white long-sleeved shirt, his coat left discarded on the ground for the time being. A glance over his shoulder confirmed Petra and the associated smugness, and with status quo established he lilted off to greet good morning to his first and only friends at the school. He figured he should rectify that at some point, but he would wait until teams were assigned to begin attempting to befriend people unnaturally.
"Morning you two - how did y'all sleep?"
Petra wriggled out of her bag, in which she had been sitting stock upright in, and made haste to clothe herself, regretting slightly her choice of sleepwear. A pair of tight-fitting black pants and a forest green t-shirt would suffice until her gear-up for initiation, and she pulled a small thermos out of her pack, one she had been saving since packing. A pull of a string at the bottom of the small metal tube activated an array that sucked a tiny sliver of a Burn crystal dry, heating up the otherwise cold coffee inside. Petra thanked modern science for the convenience of easy-to-store giant reserves of energy, and leaned against a wall drinking her steaming beverage, thinking about as few things as possible as she let the torpor of sleep slide off her.
Whit was not a morning person. A terrible trait for a Huntsman, he knew, but his attempts to rectify the situation had never amounted to much. He liked to think his brain had a slow acceleration but a high top speed, a battleship to his peer's smaller vessels, but even he had to admit such thoughts were dangerously self-aggrandizing. Rule Six: Never overestimate yourself, Never underestimate your foe. He figured Petra would already be awake, surely already looking smugly satisfied with herself as she watched him struggle against Hypnos, but he had gotten used to that during their final exam. He figured peeling the bandage off was the best course of action, and with one smooth action threw himself to his feet, and out of the bag, ending the action in a triumphant stretch, the heavenly feeling reaching him right as the second wave of backup alarms crashed into his ears, the first having woken him up scant few minutes ago. Clad in only his boxers, he made to put on casual clothes of dark pants and a white long-sleeved shirt, his coat left discarded on the ground for the time being. A glance over his shoulder confirmed Petra and the associated smugness, and with status quo established he lilted off to greet good morning to his first and only friends at the school. He figured he should rectify that at some point, but he would wait until teams were assigned to begin attempting to befriend people unnaturally.
"Morning you two - how did y'all sleep?"
"Mooorning," Rae hummed in response, rising to her feet and offering an amiable smile. Sam followed her actions, nodding to Whit in acknowledgement.
"Meh, I've slept in worse conditions. Can't say my spines so modest, though," And, as if to verify her assumption, with two subtle turns of her slender torso, audible pops sounded off along her backside, followed by a louder one in her left shoulder, causing her to wince, and exhale softly as she straightened out her posture again. "Ouch."
Sam stifled a chuckle, "Riiiight. Translation, we're decent. She never stops talking, but aside from that... What about you?"
Rae piped in, nudging him in response to his jest. "Where's Petra? She's coming with us to initiation, right?" She asked, assuming that was the case. "I sure hope so, cause if we can accumulate teams, I think we..."
Although she'd spoken of nothing but the event to follow since Sam opened his eyes that morning, it wasn't until she'd mentioned it to Whit, that a sudden jumble of nerves, like a handful of bouncy balls tossed on the cement, bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She felt that familiar heat of anxiety rise, a warmth pricking along every bit of skin, up to her temples and slightly flushing her face and warming her palms; accompanying that was the gentle, notably harder thumping of her heart in her throat.
"You think we...?" Sam quirked a brow as he watched the woman's fair cheeks turn rosy, a redness that gradually spread along her cheek bones and even tinted her nose. He'd never seen someone blush quite like that, and wondered what the reasoning behind that was. He waved his hand in front of her face, able to feel the heat emanating from her even a few inches away. "...Rae? Earth to Rae? You there? Man, I swear, I can't keep up with this one."
It took a lengthy, awkward moment of silence before she came to, suddenly emanating an apprehension that hadn't been there before. The truth was, up until something actually happened, Rae didn't take scheduled events seriously due to past experiences revolving around numerous failed plans and disappointments; so, just about every time, when the moment actually arrived, even with gradual mental preparation, it came crashing down on her like feral wave, engulfing, submerging her in the reality of it. She always out did herself, but the anxiety that came with long awaited obligations hindered her for quite some time.
"Just... got a little nervous, there," She murmured, the shyness in her tone a total contrast compared to his outspoken she'd been just a few moments ago. "It didn't hit me till just now the actuality of what we're to do this morning... I mean, it's not necessarily so different from what I've trained for, but, you know... jts Beacon. Kinda my life's goals riding on the line, here."
Sam laughed a little, "Yeah, we could tell, you switched off for a minute." He gently patted her back, to which she jumped a little in response. "I think every one can relate to you, in some varying degree," He added sympathetically. "Remebering why you're here, and don't let your nerves trip you up. Not today, of all days."
He shifted his attention to Whit, offering an apologetic smile for Rae's oddities. "Ah... Shall we get going? Wouldn't want to keep our beloved head master waiting." He remarked sardonic like.
"Meh, I've slept in worse conditions. Can't say my spines so modest, though," And, as if to verify her assumption, with two subtle turns of her slender torso, audible pops sounded off along her backside, followed by a louder one in her left shoulder, causing her to wince, and exhale softly as she straightened out her posture again. "Ouch."
Sam stifled a chuckle, "Riiiight. Translation, we're decent. She never stops talking, but aside from that... What about you?"
Rae piped in, nudging him in response to his jest. "Where's Petra? She's coming with us to initiation, right?" She asked, assuming that was the case. "I sure hope so, cause if we can accumulate teams, I think we..."
Although she'd spoken of nothing but the event to follow since Sam opened his eyes that morning, it wasn't until she'd mentioned it to Whit, that a sudden jumble of nerves, like a handful of bouncy balls tossed on the cement, bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She felt that familiar heat of anxiety rise, a warmth pricking along every bit of skin, up to her temples and slightly flushing her face and warming her palms; accompanying that was the gentle, notably harder thumping of her heart in her throat.
"You think we...?" Sam quirked a brow as he watched the woman's fair cheeks turn rosy, a redness that gradually spread along her cheek bones and even tinted her nose. He'd never seen someone blush quite like that, and wondered what the reasoning behind that was. He waved his hand in front of her face, able to feel the heat emanating from her even a few inches away. "...Rae? Earth to Rae? You there? Man, I swear, I can't keep up with this one."
It took a lengthy, awkward moment of silence before she came to, suddenly emanating an apprehension that hadn't been there before. The truth was, up until something actually happened, Rae didn't take scheduled events seriously due to past experiences revolving around numerous failed plans and disappointments; so, just about every time, when the moment actually arrived, even with gradual mental preparation, it came crashing down on her like feral wave, engulfing, submerging her in the reality of it. She always out did herself, but the anxiety that came with long awaited obligations hindered her for quite some time.
"Just... got a little nervous, there," She murmured, the shyness in her tone a total contrast compared to his outspoken she'd been just a few moments ago. "It didn't hit me till just now the actuality of what we're to do this morning... I mean, it's not necessarily so different from what I've trained for, but, you know... jts Beacon. Kinda my life's goals riding on the line, here."
Sam laughed a little, "Yeah, we could tell, you switched off for a minute." He gently patted her back, to which she jumped a little in response. "I think every one can relate to you, in some varying degree," He added sympathetically. "Remebering why you're here, and don't let your nerves trip you up. Not today, of all days."
He shifted his attention to Whit, offering an apologetic smile for Rae's oddities. "Ah... Shall we get going? Wouldn't want to keep our beloved head master waiting." He remarked sardonic like.
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