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 Argent Steele on Sept 5, 2019 8:58:40 GMT -5
I know you got hate in you. Most do. Trick is to use it, 'stead of it usin' you.
But you know this. Vengeance is a motivator, not the motive. Don't hunt 'em 'cause you been wronged. Hunt 'em 'cause what they did was wrong. There's a world of difference there, kid. One makes you selfish. The other makes you a hero.
And I see a hero in you.
❝
Argent waved the little human farewell a little hesitantly, watching her flounce away with surprising speed. For a brief moment, he wondered what manner of show she would watch. Some sort of cartoon, perhaps. Perhaps one focused on music. While he didn’t know much of the girl’s background yet, she seemed too dainty for the farm life, and most of the people back in Pine Crest certainly couldn’t afford prosthetics that lifelike, so he highly doubted she was into radio serials, as he had been once upon a time. Another thing he had left behind with the farm, once Nova had taken over his life. His lips pursed with distaste, and he reached for his list of questions and his pad of paper again. That wasn’t something he wanted to remember now, of all times.
For some reason, Evangeline’s parting words stuck with him even as he pulled his legs up and turned his writing pad to the page he’d been at before this whole encounter. The thought of the little blonde girl beating up anything elicited a small snort of amusement as he brushed away a small leaf that had gotten trapped between the pages in his earlier rush to keep from speaking to her directly. She certainly didn’t look like one to go back on her word, but it was hard to imagine her doing anything violent. The mental image of an angry Evangeline yelling as she beat someone over the head with her violin was juxtaposed with the memory of a stray kitten who’d been found in the village once that just wouldn’t stop biting, hissing and struggling even as it was held by the scruff on its neck. Not that he could really imagine anger on the face of someone who seemed to be the antithesis of it in every aspect, or even what about the small blonde girl invoked that particular memory, but it was an amusing comparison nonetheless.
Shaking his head, Argent put pen to paper and started to write once more. Calculations were etched upon the paper, scribbles around the side before he filled in the final equations on the answer sheet. His pen strokes, usually short and straightforward, were now unusually hesitant - and then, after a few minutes, they finally came to a halt as he dwelled upon the blonde girl’s final parting words.
Friend. She’d called him friend.
Strange. He hadn’t come here to make friends, but to hone his skills and train his body until he could stand beside his family. Until he would no longer be a burden to Shin and Jade, and they no longer had to shackle themselves for him to keep up. Years of studying in Root without a single person he could truly call friend, and yet within a single week of attending Haven, apparently he had gotten one. It was almost laughable, considering his track record. Being ignored, ostracized, relegated to the sidelines, being tricked and later being made to be the scapegoat by someone whom he’d trusted - and yet, a part of him wanted to believe that Evangeline was exactly as she’d seemed, and wasn’t the kind of person he’d had to deal with before.
Friend.Argent turned the word over on his tongue and let the corner of his mouth curl into a small smile, looking down at the paper pad.
It was a sweet word.
WHISPER OF THE WYRM (SEMBLANCE): [RANK D]
SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: SPEED OF THE SCYLLA (SPEED) [RANK E] SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: DANCE OF THE DRAGON (AGILITY) [RANK F] SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK F] SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F] SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)