TRP is a post-Great War AU RWBY RP set in Mistral City and Haven Academy with no canons, no rank claims, no maidens, and no god interference. We offer a progression system and site-wide events that change the setting based on player actions.
Post by Kishka Burzanova on May 12, 2020 5:25:26 GMT -5
There was nothing better than a hot shower after a good workout. Nothing.
Drying her hair with a towel, a freshly-dressed Kishka made her way out of the training room showers, feeling positively refreshed. Especially now that all of that damn trial business was cleared up and out of the way. Fucking absurd is what it was. Honestly, as if Solomon fucking Moon was even worth that much... She had no clue how he was doing, following everything that had happened, and to be frank, she didn't give a shit. To think, he has very nearly cost her her Vytal participation. What a complete jackass.
But never mind him.
She'd just wrapped up her Saturday afternoon speed training for the day, and now it was time for her regimented half hour break before she went back at it again with her evening agility training regimen. There was an easiness that came with maintaining that sense of organization, one that she greatly appreciated. In a world where crazy shit happened, sometimes without warning, and through no fault of her own, it paid to have some form of structure to fall back on.
And now that she was under less scrutiny, and had more time to herself again (aside from classes starting back up), it was time to fall back into a normal training routine.
At least, normal for her, anyways.
She was pretty sure it ought to be normal for everyone else too, though. This was a Huntsman Academy after all. And from what she'd seen in Vytal, of how some of her classmates had handled the other schools' teams... She was decidedly not impressed.
She'd definitely have to put in some more work to whip her class into shape. She smiled faintly, to herself, as she reached her weapon locker.
She wasn't the only one there, however. Which was... Odd, to say the least. Given that she'd never noticed either locker beside hers being used before, and the person approaching one of those exact lockers was somebody she hadn't seen before. She had to be pretty new, for Kishka to have just never noticed her in any of their classes together.
The pale hair color brought to mind unpleasant associations of her sister's pearly white locks, immediately, and she reflexively glanced up at the strands of her own hair, to see that they were, once again, properly dyed their pleasant lavender color. And she noted with a small amount of approval that this new girl's hair was also dyed, if only partially, in the blue highlights- she always liked seeing people with dyed hair, it reminded her of the little rebel inside herself that decided to break the mold.
She was also taller than the new girl, by nearly half a foot. And where her own skin was much darker than most of her classmates', the shorter girl's skin was as nearly as white as the gloves she wore. It was interesting how different they were, at a glance.
Which was all Kishka gave the girl, at first, as they both opened up their lockers. The forecast called for rain, so Kishka figured if she was going on break, she may as well stay dry- her weapon did have some distinct advantages over others.
And yet as she turned to head out to go for a walk and grab a snack, something caught her eye.
A wide grin of genuine surprise crossed her face as she caught a glimpse of the other girl's weapon. "You've got good taste, I see. A fan, I presume?" She stopped mid-stride and turned to face Celeste before addressing her, making a pointed glance down at her umbrella, as she assumed what was clear and obvious- she'd seen Kishka fight sometime before, likely either at Sanctum, or during the Vytal Festival, and been so enamored with her unique style, that she had to copy it for herself. It wasn't like she was an unknown figure, especially not as of late- the advantages of being both exceptionally gifted at combat, and the daughter of a relatively well-to-do, old money, merchant family, she supposed. It was bound to happen eventually, honestly, that somebody would come along and take up her niche fighting style.
It was flattering, really.
"You know how to use that thing? I could give you some pointers, if you want." Maybe it was the shower, but she was definitely feeling more than a little generous for once, as she stood, twirling her own umbrella idly. Wasn't every day a newbie showed up and surprised her with a bold weapon choice that brought a warm tingly feeling to her chest. Might as well at least make sure she's on the right track, yeah?
Notes// i've never written something so patronizing in my life | Tagged// @umbrellafren | Aura// 100% | WC// 792 | TWC// 792