Post by Colton Deraine on Aug 21, 2019 12:10:15 GMT -5
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[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
Hour Six.
There was absolutely zero point of trying to remain hidden or trying to choose partners at this point, because six hours was long enough for almost anyone to be anywhere. It introduced an element of risk, because there were absolutely some people in the group that was launched who could end up failing. While he didn’t honestly believe that with his own skill level being so above and beyond the others he would be yanked from the harder Huntsman Missions regardless of passing or failing, what he did believe is that if he failed to pass he’d be relegated to a follower rather than a leader – and the majority of cases then would be even more difficult than doing it by himself.
The large issue in recruiting people with no primary combat school experience was that they tended to have no experience with basic shit like strategy or Grimm Studies. Some were sheltered enough to never have even seen a Grimm before somehow, which was a fucking travesty to have someone enroll in a Big Four school without that basic fucking experience. Having one of the worthless wastes of space occupying the role as team leader, especially for a mission that had lives on the line for the sake of ‘fairness’ or ‘equality’ would be the height of bullshit and would get those lives snuffed. Shadecloak was pragmatic enough to see that, but somehow, he had his doubts that the others were so logical.
It was a crime that someone like him wasn’t allowed to do those missions at the start, really, but the bandit blockade kind of forced that issue. Quite frankly, the former champion was itching for a challenge like he had rarely been before. In Sanctum he was the top dog, sure, but there were always others who at least provided enough of a challenge to make it enjoyable. There was always the expectation that once he got into Haven, even if the first years were beneath him there would be second or third years who were able to provide challenges or even goals by being equal or higher skill level. Currently he was in this very awkward level where he was more or less equivalent to an average third year student in his first, while everyone else was stuck at a first year level for the most part with either a grossly incomplete skillset or just lack of talent and/or training.
He had signed on and accepted enrollment before The Fall happened, and while he absolutely had the option to go with any of the other schools in the Big Four he stubbornly persisted. Vacuo was a shit hole country with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, so that was never an option. Vale could go fuck itself with its self-righteous bullshit just because it won the Great War. Atlas could go fuck itself with its school literally built on a floating island above the capital that his ancestors had fought and died for before getting all their land taken and being forced to move. Nationalistic loyalty to Mistral, however, was weak where it existed at all. Colton simply didn’t feel like he owed a great debt to the country, regardless of his time at Sanctum and birth in Argus.
While he deflected with bullshit every time the subject was brought up, he was only here for one reason and one reason alone: to finally get out of her shadow.
At the present, Colton was clicking his sword out of its sheath constantly with his left thumb in a bored state. He had stayed around to rest and recover some of his aura for an hour or two, but frankly that was out of an abundance of caution more than anything else. His aura was at acceptable levels anyway, but the risk of catching something that was capable of breaking his aura or at least damaging it to the point to where the rest of the day was a huge risk was not ideal. The only way he failed this, really, was relying on others. If he just accepted that he was to hard carry people to a passing grade and expect zero help from anyone for anything, he could reliably do this himself.
The bright side was that his objective was half done already, so he only needed one more assist and to end in a group without suffering any losses for him to pass. While he didn’t see himself fleeing from any threats in the forest, he also was under no obligation to go above and beyond when the objective was just to pass. The risk of failure, however slight, in this instance was not worth any amount of showing off that forced him to rely on others. Sure, there were some trainees in this forest who were more than capable of holding their own in this environment, but there was also a good chunk of others who simply should have never come here in the first place.
Being able to go on Huntsman missions was going to be the only way he didn’t go insane by the end of the year, so he needed that opportunity more than most. The only way to improve was to face off against threats equal to or greater than yourself, and that was the only way he’d be able to do so until he improved enough to be able to get progress from training with the professors. He was, frankly, on an annoying plateau in skill level where he was too good to really learn from classmates and too bad to learn from someone like Shadecloak who would wipe the floor with him so badly it wouldn’t really be a learning experience.
His current rate of improvement was pathetic, really, and the stunted growth was enough to severely hurt his chances of advancement in the Vytal Festival. If he had chosen any other school, he would have been challenged and improved far faster than he had at Haven. Maybe it was better this way, though, because it didn’t take her very long to progress to a point where not even the faculty could provide anything approximating a challenge. She still, somehow, kept improving even though even high level Huntsman missions would have posed zero threat. She would have graduated and been the most powerful Huntsman in the country bar none the second she got her license, and very arguably the strongest in the world.
How did she do it?
It shouldn’t have been possible.
If she had been reliant only on her semblance, that would have been one thing. Some people just had better genetics than others and he could accept that. But once in a generation talent at seemingly everything was something that he just couldn’t understand or process, maybe because no matter how much he copied her training methods and style he just didn’t have the talent to reach anywhere close to the same heights.
That was possible. In fact, it might have even been probable. The fact of the matter was, though, that fate had decided that Cressida was not able to complete her own goal in winning the Vytal Festival in her third year. It was her white whale that she had trained relentlessly to achieve for three years to ensure she was as well rounded as possible to both carry her team and to ensure that there was nobody else in the Big Four that could stand a chance. While everything else he may do in his entire life had been done better and with less luck by a trainee that was superior in every way, that was one thing that he could do that would make him unique in one small way.
After all, would it not be fitting for the disciple of the one who had held Haven up on her shoulders for the past three years to carry on that mantle for the next three? He might be nothing but a third rate imitation of the genuine article, but even a third rate reproduction was better than every single one of his peers and likely first-years across all of the Big Four. That was all well and good, but to claim the tournament in his first year he would also have to be better than all of the second and third years across the rest of Remnant. That was a much taller order, frankly, but one he’d have to accomplish if he ever desired to be considered an equal rather than an imitation.
He supposed that everyone was entitled to their own delusions. His was just as unattainable as most others, but the difference was that even when he failed, he would still be a far above average Huntsman even in so failing. He just wouldn’t be the absolute best of the best, which at the end of the day was fine so long as that was really his own personal ceiling. He just needed some outside assistance, much as he hated to admit it, to reach that ceiling.
This was the first step, really, now that he knew that for an unfortunate fact. He needed to pass this and start going on the highest rated missions that the school were willing to offer in order get past his current plateau, and only when that happened would his ability to improve accelerate once again to what it used to be.
There was absolutely zero point of trying to remain hidden or trying to choose partners at this point, because six hours was long enough for almost anyone to be anywhere. It introduced an element of risk, because there were absolutely some people in the group that was launched who could end up failing. While he didn’t honestly believe that with his own skill level being so above and beyond the others he would be yanked from the harder Huntsman Missions regardless of passing or failing, what he did believe is that if he failed to pass he’d be relegated to a follower rather than a leader – and the majority of cases then would be even more difficult than doing it by himself.
The large issue in recruiting people with no primary combat school experience was that they tended to have no experience with basic shit like strategy or Grimm Studies. Some were sheltered enough to never have even seen a Grimm before somehow, which was a fucking travesty to have someone enroll in a Big Four school without that basic fucking experience. Having one of the worthless wastes of space occupying the role as team leader, especially for a mission that had lives on the line for the sake of ‘fairness’ or ‘equality’ would be the height of bullshit and would get those lives snuffed. Shadecloak was pragmatic enough to see that, but somehow, he had his doubts that the others were so logical.
It was a crime that someone like him wasn’t allowed to do those missions at the start, really, but the bandit blockade kind of forced that issue. Quite frankly, the former champion was itching for a challenge like he had rarely been before. In Sanctum he was the top dog, sure, but there were always others who at least provided enough of a challenge to make it enjoyable. There was always the expectation that once he got into Haven, even if the first years were beneath him there would be second or third years who were able to provide challenges or even goals by being equal or higher skill level. Currently he was in this very awkward level where he was more or less equivalent to an average third year student in his first, while everyone else was stuck at a first year level for the most part with either a grossly incomplete skillset or just lack of talent and/or training.
He had signed on and accepted enrollment before The Fall happened, and while he absolutely had the option to go with any of the other schools in the Big Four he stubbornly persisted. Vacuo was a shit hole country with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, so that was never an option. Vale could go fuck itself with its self-righteous bullshit just because it won the Great War. Atlas could go fuck itself with its school literally built on a floating island above the capital that his ancestors had fought and died for before getting all their land taken and being forced to move. Nationalistic loyalty to Mistral, however, was weak where it existed at all. Colton simply didn’t feel like he owed a great debt to the country, regardless of his time at Sanctum and birth in Argus.
While he deflected with bullshit every time the subject was brought up, he was only here for one reason and one reason alone: to finally get out of her shadow.
At the present, Colton was clicking his sword out of its sheath constantly with his left thumb in a bored state. He had stayed around to rest and recover some of his aura for an hour or two, but frankly that was out of an abundance of caution more than anything else. His aura was at acceptable levels anyway, but the risk of catching something that was capable of breaking his aura or at least damaging it to the point to where the rest of the day was a huge risk was not ideal. The only way he failed this, really, was relying on others. If he just accepted that he was to hard carry people to a passing grade and expect zero help from anyone for anything, he could reliably do this himself.
The bright side was that his objective was half done already, so he only needed one more assist and to end in a group without suffering any losses for him to pass. While he didn’t see himself fleeing from any threats in the forest, he also was under no obligation to go above and beyond when the objective was just to pass. The risk of failure, however slight, in this instance was not worth any amount of showing off that forced him to rely on others. Sure, there were some trainees in this forest who were more than capable of holding their own in this environment, but there was also a good chunk of others who simply should have never come here in the first place.
Being able to go on Huntsman missions was going to be the only way he didn’t go insane by the end of the year, so he needed that opportunity more than most. The only way to improve was to face off against threats equal to or greater than yourself, and that was the only way he’d be able to do so until he improved enough to be able to get progress from training with the professors. He was, frankly, on an annoying plateau in skill level where he was too good to really learn from classmates and too bad to learn from someone like Shadecloak who would wipe the floor with him so badly it wouldn’t really be a learning experience.
His current rate of improvement was pathetic, really, and the stunted growth was enough to severely hurt his chances of advancement in the Vytal Festival. If he had chosen any other school, he would have been challenged and improved far faster than he had at Haven. Maybe it was better this way, though, because it didn’t take her very long to progress to a point where not even the faculty could provide anything approximating a challenge. She still, somehow, kept improving even though even high level Huntsman missions would have posed zero threat. She would have graduated and been the most powerful Huntsman in the country bar none the second she got her license, and very arguably the strongest in the world.
How did she do it?
It shouldn’t have been possible.
If she had been reliant only on her semblance, that would have been one thing. Some people just had better genetics than others and he could accept that. But once in a generation talent at seemingly everything was something that he just couldn’t understand or process, maybe because no matter how much he copied her training methods and style he just didn’t have the talent to reach anywhere close to the same heights.
That was possible. In fact, it might have even been probable. The fact of the matter was, though, that fate had decided that Cressida was not able to complete her own goal in winning the Vytal Festival in her third year. It was her white whale that she had trained relentlessly to achieve for three years to ensure she was as well rounded as possible to both carry her team and to ensure that there was nobody else in the Big Four that could stand a chance. While everything else he may do in his entire life had been done better and with less luck by a trainee that was superior in every way, that was one thing that he could do that would make him unique in one small way.
After all, would it not be fitting for the disciple of the one who had held Haven up on her shoulders for the past three years to carry on that mantle for the next three? He might be nothing but a third rate imitation of the genuine article, but even a third rate reproduction was better than every single one of his peers and likely first-years across all of the Big Four. That was all well and good, but to claim the tournament in his first year he would also have to be better than all of the second and third years across the rest of Remnant. That was a much taller order, frankly, but one he’d have to accomplish if he ever desired to be considered an equal rather than an imitation.
He supposed that everyone was entitled to their own delusions. His was just as unattainable as most others, but the difference was that even when he failed, he would still be a far above average Huntsman even in so failing. He just wouldn’t be the absolute best of the best, which at the end of the day was fine so long as that was really his own personal ceiling. He just needed some outside assistance, much as he hated to admit it, to reach that ceiling.
This was the first step, really, now that he knew that for an unfortunate fact. He needed to pass this and start going on the highest rated missions that the school were willing to offer in order get past his current plateau, and only when that happened would his ability to improve accelerate once again to what it used to be.
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MADE BY MIZO
