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 16, 2019 8:26:17 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 made a small noise of affirmation, reaching out to take the gun with both hands and looking it over closely. Looking it over, feeling the weight of it in his hand before he pushed the revolver closed and latched it shut. Finger firmly on the trigger guard and never approaching the trigger proper, the snake Faunus hefted it, held it out to the side and sighted down it at a nearby tree in a competitive shooter's pose, and held the position for a moment before relaxing and letting it drop. Much as he would have liked to dry-fire the gun to test the trigger, it was rude to do that with someone else's weapon - and besides, from what he could feel with the gun in his hand, it was probably best not to run the risk of damaging the weapon further. He was never the best with guns in general, but he had handled Shin's Daisy Cutter and several other guns in training enough to know what a good revolver felt like.
This… wasn't it.
Oh, to be sure, the weapon was well made steel through and through, but even well made steel could only be abused so much before it started to have issues of its own. The caliber of the bullets used was larger than what Daisy Cutter used, which in turn meant that the force exerted on the weapon with every shot was greater - and by extension, the stress from those forces as well. Daisy Cutter had the capacity to load six rounds, and Shin only ever used five of those slots when travelling, only using fully loaded speedloaders in actual combat. Trash had four, and all four were in use when Alexandros had unloaded it, which gave the snake Faunus a feeling of deep concern. Not to mention, the gun's cylinder rocked back and forth in it's housing and rattled when shook, which set off another red flag in the Faunus' mind. The barrel was warped from all the fired bullets that had gone through it, which certainly explained why Alexandros had fumbled one of the shots in the fight earlier - it must be necessary to compensate mentally for the slight skew with every shot.
Not at all like Daisy Cutter. No sir, not at all.
Argent breathed in deeply and let it out in a long, slow, exhale. Why Alexandros didn't just use a newer or better weapon was beyond him. There were other guns less likely to take your leg off if you holstered it wrong.
"Could use a touch up," he said simply, given that the other probably knew the flaws of his own weapon better than Argent could comment on just by looking at it for a few seconds. Unlatching the weapon, he repeated the same steps that Alexandros had done before giving it back in the same way he'd received it, so that the other could load it before holstering it again. It was a small relief to watch it be taken out of his hands, the better to focus on what Alexandros had said rather than to dwell on the metal monster living on his hip.
"And you're not," he replied with a short nod, affirming what the other had said.
"None of us are. This is a school, and we're students, here to learn. Don't worry about being ready. You've already made your choice, so no point in second guessing yourself and delaying your own progress. Just do what you can, when you can."
He didn't know if he had the right to say those words, stolen from the mouth of his mentor. Shin used to say similar things, and he'd drank up every word enough to recite them by heart, but Argent didn't think he was qualified to parrot that wisdom to someone else, especially when they'd only just met.
The Kishka approach of telling someone to stop being such a little bitch about it and then beating it into their skull with an umbrella probably wouldn't work here either, now that he thought about it.
"You can start with that," he said instead, jerking his head towards the weapon that Alexandros was holding.
"I was watching you earlier. You reload manually? Every round?"
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)
Post by Alexandros Skouriá on Sept 19, 2019 2:31:17 GMT -5
Alexandros accepted back his revolver, unlatching and breaking it open to reload its four rounds.
If any one word was to sum up the reaction Argent had shown after handling the gun, 'unamused' would sit uncontested at the top of many similar options. The way the faunus had handled the firearm suggested some degree of knowledge or familiarity, and the target-shooting stance he had briefly adopted further supported the notion. After all, it was fairly logical: the keen eye of an archer was not all that different from a gunslinger's gaze, and the strength required to pull an arrow to full draw on a large war bow was at least comparable to that which was required to keep a great number of guns in check from recoil... well, not all that comparable, Alex mused, but vaguely similar. Where archery required strength and a calculating mind, shooting instead called for manual dexterity and precise control in handling various moving parts.
"Could use a touch up," Argent said, masking obvious disappointment and confusion with simple advice. "Yeah," Alex agreed, "it usually does."
The boy latched Thrash back to a closed and cohesive whole, and holstered the gun at his hip as the two continued to walk. As Argent spoke, affirming the fears of competency and readiness which were expressed, Alexandros made a quick scan of his own over the weapons of the other student. A loaded quiver was at his hip, with one of two swords alongside it, and the second on the other side out of obvious view. It was much more in-line with the expected -- or even stereotypical -- weaponry of a huntsman or huntress, a frighteningly complicated thing which was capable of fulfilling multiple roles. Each sword was, of course, a sword, allowing each hand a great deal of reach and stopping power by way of cut and thrust; some sort of connecting or stabilizing port was visibly set into the pommel, enabling the combination of the two component weapons into a much greater whole. Argent had described his Semblance as being the control over objects in motion, so it was no wonder that both bow and blade were his calling.
Then came the question about technique.
"Right now? Yeah," Alexandros said, "but I've been practicing ways of doing it faster; doing it smarter, really. Thrash is a little bit -- well, you've seen -- 'interesting' though, so it's been hard finding speedloaders or moon clips that work well with it. Not many revolvers out in the wild that are chambered for four rounds. Or, you know, if there are any out there in the hands of collectors or traders, I haven't found them. It's not all bad, though. Until I get good enough at loading like that, and once I have some proper gear, I'll just look at it this way: four is faster than five, and it's definitely faster than six or seven could ever be."
A brief silence followed.
"Your sword-bow must be a custom order," he half-asked and half-stated outright, "from somebody very good at working metal, I'd wager. Does it have a name, or a... model number, or anything?"
Post by Argent Steele on Sept 22, 2019 5:05:03 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.
❝
"Yeah. Ouroboros."
The serpent eating its own tail, a symbol since times ancient and long gone of death and rebirth. He hadn't known, of course - or at least, he hadn't until Kishka had told him about it while brainstorming for names and designs - one didn't really develop a hobby of looking at symbols and sigils and whatnot in the middle of a farming community on the borders of Mantle and Mistral, especially not one that was far away from libraries and other fonts of knowledge in general. But once he had learned of it, it seemed appropriate to use for the name of the new weapon he and her had created together.
"Another student helped to forge the pieces. Niraya Platinum - rank twelve, as I recall. Fox Faunus girl," he said, pausing to remember that there had been two fox Faunus girls at the initiation, one that he hadn't seen there before.
"The one with light colored hair," he elaborated further, thinking. "Ice Semblance. Katana. Ranked twelve."
Temperamental and with a temper issue, Argent thought as well, but kept that to himself. No doubt Alexandros would find that out in excruciating detail if he crossed some invisible line that set her off.
"But me and a friend designed it together. I just got it last week, actually. I used to have a spear and bow combination, but I didn't have the capacity to fight in close quarters with that. So I designed a new weapon to resolve the issue."
The unspoken implication hung clear between them - that Alexandros should let go of his own attachment to Trash, and find something he could fight better with. But the snake Faunus didn't follow up on it, instead continuing to speak.
"The school has facilities for students to create custom parts and weapons, but I felt safer giving the job to someone with experience in the matter. If you're looking for speedloaders and moon clips as well as other acessories, I believe you can create them yourself at the stations located in the school forgeries. You'd need the specifications of the weapon you're making them for, of course, so I suggest bringing Trash along when you visit. It's simple as putting some dimensions into a computer, though maybe some blueprints would make it even easier, if that isn't your forte."
Nodding at the metal monster on Alexandros' hip, Argent paused to push aside a low hanging branch from the path that would have hit him directly in the face had he not stopped to do so. He held it for a few moments, allowing Alexandros to go through before doing so himself and letting the branch swing back into place.
"I was watching you fight, too. You looked right handed to me, but correct me if I'm wrong. In any case, if you can use Trash in one hand and compensate for the recoil accordingly, I strongly suggest getting another gun to cover for its weaknesses. A semi-automatic or a machine pistol in your off hand would be optimal - volume of fire for pressure and suppression in your left, and high powered, damaging shots from your right. You'd still need to holster your weapons before going into melee, but this method would help address some of your ranged problems, I think."
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)
Post by Alexandros Skouriá on Sept 23, 2019 5:38:57 GMT -5
Alexandros nodded along, silent, simply listening intently to everything Argent had to say. There was a world of difference between the two in regards to combat experience and tactical forethought, and none of it went unnoticed in the attentive mind of the Skouriá boy. While it was a certainty that the differences were ultimately not as great as the young brawler was imagining them to be, there was simply no denying the differences existed in the first place; Argent, calm and collected, and already demonstrating his abilities as an archer, was simply the better fighter between the two of them. His advice was coming from somewhere, after all, and it was likely that previous exposure to 'real' conflict was partially the source of it all. So, unable to say much for himself, and with nothing to say even if he wanted to, Alexandros nodded. So he designed that thing himself, huh? the boy repeated on the inside, making another quick look over the sword and arrows. Well, not just himself; but that's still pretty impressive.
The meaning behind the words did not go unnoticed, however. Disappointment and confusion had morphed into a more general irritation, and then concern, with what the silver-haired one was saying serving as a warning of things to come. When something did not work, it was not wise for one to try and force that very same something to work. In the case of one, it was spear and bow, and in the case of the other it was very clearly the revolver perhaps better left in a museum. It was obvious advice -- like staying at a sensible range against monsters -- which clearly came from a place of epiphany or realization for Argent, and it was keenly apparent to Alexandros that the faunus thought of Thrash as little more than a liability. But that did not matter. By an objective measure it was a completely worthless weapon, so it was sentiment alone which brought the firearm to Haven. Alex knew Thrash, and he knew it well, and it was, in a most upsetting way, the only means by which he would -- in his mind, at least -- properly honour the memory of a man who could not even be buried.
A sharp intake of breath, and an indifferent 'hmm' which followed: this, Alexandros offered as reply, and nothing more. Argent spoke further, and the boy found himself silently nodding yet again.
"I suppose that's not a bad idea," Alexandros finally said after a brief hush. "It makes a lot of sense. More sense than a sword would- not that, well- that's not to say a sword was a bad idea. Either way, though, it's clever. Something smaller in the left that lasts longer, and either Thrash or the heat from my Semblance in the other; you're right, the volume of shots being fired might just be enough for the bigger stuff to come out and still be effective."
The brawler almost continued, but stopped himself; ahead of the two was a truly tiny little clearing lit by the late-morning sunlight through a break in the treetops. Alexandros readjusted the strap of his duffel bag, slowing his marching pace as he did so. "Hey, can we stop here for a little bit? I need to sew that ribbon back together. Well, try to, at least."
Post by Argent Steele on Sept 24, 2019 13:17:41 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.
❝
"I suppose that's not a bad idea," said Alexandros, and Argent breathed a small sigh of relief that at least some part of his advice wouldn't go to waste. It wasn't as if he was the kind of person to go about lecturing others in the streets on the inadequacy of their morals and weapons and armor and everything that he could possibly nitpick at just for the sake of it. But watching the other fight, it was clear that he had training but little combat experience. Having nearly been the cause of a mission failure himself, clearly obvious in hindsight, the snake Faunus at least wanted to say something to keep the other from having to experience that.
"Yeah. There are other ways to make up for the holes in your style, but you might as well play to your strengths. It might be difficult to adapt, but it should work out in the long run."
Colton and Qiu'li, two of the best students currently on the roster, had both been on the mission, and had done more than their share of covering for his mistake. If by misfortune or design there weren't similar powerhouses on Alexandros' team to cover for his own flaws, things could go much worse than the Search and Destroy internship had gone. They had at least managed to pull a victory out of that first day - who was to say that of the new batch of trainees, there would be anyone as competent as either of them? Shadecloak had been on the mission to cover them as much as she could, and even with her around, all it had taken was for a single error in judgment for him to nearly cost everyone their lives.
Anything could happen when one faced off against the creatures of darkness on their own turf - that was to say, anywhere outside of the cities and villages where mankind and Faunus had put down roots and defenses, and did, with alarming regularity. He hoped, for the other's sake, that he found a team soon, one he could work well with and one that could cover his weaknesses. Or, at the very least, that he could get a new gun to accompany the Trash that he insistently held on to despite it being well past a retirement date.
Not that he was any stranger to wanting to hold on to sentiment. Subtle Calamity had been a gift from Jade, something he didn't ever want to let go of if he could help it. But he had been sent here to Haven to learn, to find his strengths and bury his weaknesses, all so that he could stand alongside the two of them when he finally graduated a full fledged Huntsman. The spear simply hadn't worked as well as it was intended to, and he had changed in response. It now sat safely in his room, leaned against a wall in easy view from his bed and desk, a precious thing to be kept away instead of bringing alongside him. They wouldn't have wanted him to compromise his performance by insisting on sentimentality, and so he hadn't.
He would stand with them, one day. No longer a burden, no longer something to protect, but someone who could do the protecting.
The snake Faunus paused when his companion did, then slowed his pace to match the other's own. That was right - he'd had his ribbon snapped by the Ursa earlier. Another casualty of the young man's hotheadedness, but one significantly less important than an arm wound. Hopefully, what little advice Argent could give and had given would help Alexandros adapt his combat style into something with a higher survival rate. Maybe they could train together after the initiations were done, and the draft matches that came with it. If the other insisted on using Trash, then at least he could help work out further flaws with the approach and ways to work around them.
"Sure. Do you need help with that? My Semblance can get it done in a few minutes if you want. Maybe less."
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)
Post by Alexandros Skouriá on Sept 27, 2019 2:25:43 GMT -5
Having an opportunity to slow down and relax would surely prove a valuable asset for the rest of the day. While there was work to be done, certainly, the boy knew it wouldn't be a long job; his yellow band was rather cleanly sliced in half, but it was small enough to only require a few minutes of careful stitching to repair. With plenty of sunlight coming down from on high, and -- in a worst-case scenario -- the snake faunus to stay alert and lookout for forthcoming danger, it would prove to be a rather simple affair. Alexandros set his supplies down to the ground and sat atop the trunk of a fallen tree, positioning himself to get as much of a benefit from the afternoon sun as possible through the trees. The clearing was much more open than the rest of the forest, of course, but it was not quite an open field; brighter than elsewhere, but still not perfectly bright. It would have to do.
"The offer's appreciated," Alexandros answered with a smile, "but I don't think that will be necessary." A laugh escaped at the thought of it; using the very same skill which had reduced monsters to memories to stitch thread was a silly notion, yet it said a great deal of the versatility a Semblance could carry. "I'd like to see that sometime, though."
With an unzipping of his duffel bag, Alexandros poked through and pulled out the medical kit which housed a smaller sewing kit within for safekeeping. It was only a very small selection, but it contained more than enough to get a simple job like this one finished without much of a hitch. Left, then right, the brawler pulled off his gloves and loosely stashed them away at the top of the other supplies in his bag, half-zipping it closed again and mentally checking-off a list of necessary tools; needle, thread, and a pin to make things a little easier. Placing the two halves of ribbon together between thumb and forefinger, Alex slipped the pin through with his other hand to ensure that both pieces would not drift apart during his stitching.
"So, are you from Mistral?" Alex asked the question without pulling his attention away from the needle and thread, and the progress being made toward making the ribbon whole again. As with most other materials, the act of joining ribbon would be easier and quicker when done with a machine, but the boy had become quite capable at deftly manipulating the tiny tools -- not machine fast, obviously, and nowhere near the level of a professional tailor, but capable enough to consider the challenge posed by sufficiently linking textiles together in the field not all that grand. Sewing had principle and fundamental rules and concepts driving it, after all, meaning that confidence and patience with a needle were often more than enough. "I've lived in the city my whole life," he continued, "and I still feel like I don't know it. Seems like every year it gets bigger and bigger, when, really, it's probably not changing as much as I think it is; more and more people living here every year, sure, but beyond that? The city is sort of -- I don't know -- set in its ways, if you want to look at it like that. The population is growing but Mistral isn't exactly growing with it. There's still plenty of people that probably-"
The thought almost found its way out of his mouth, caught at the last second by some unknown siren sounding off inside the walls of his mind. Alex flicked his gaze up toward Argent, training on the scales underneath his eyes for a prolonged moment. "You, uh," he said through sudden and intense embarrassment, lowering his voice and looking back down to the ribbon and needle with haste, "you know. Faunus aren't treated terribly kindly out here. I'm sure- not to- not that I'm implying people don't like you or anything; you'd know better than I ever could if there's anybody at Haven who has some sort of prejudice toward people that are like you."
Well. This was awkward.
"Sorry," Alexandros squeezed out as he continued to sew, "that was uncalled for."
Post by Argent Steele on Sept 30, 2019 0:43:18 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.
❝
The snake Faunus nodded once in acknowledgement when Alexandros turned down the offer, instead turning to keep watch over the area while the other worked. It was no big deal either way, so he was indifferent enough whether the other said yes or no.
"Not the city, no."
Argent's response to the question was accompanied by a pursing of the lips and a slight narrowing of the eyes. Pine Crest was still a touchy subject for him, though less so than before thanks to the effort of a certain pair of blonde and purple haired girls in his life. Still, those were bittersweet memories - of what had been against what was now, and he didn't much care for them being dragged up overmuch.
"I'm from a little village on the border to Mantle. It was always more Mantle than Mistral in culture, even if it was technically on this side of the border. But no, I haven't been to the capital before Haven."
The snake Faunus wondered what new point Alexandros was trying to make, but watched with increasing amusement as the human proceeded to put his foot in his mouth and choke on it. Not that it showed anywhere other than in the slight rising of his eyebrows - it would be rude to laugh, after all.
"I do know," he affirmed with a nod, the words just ever so slightly touched with a dry wit that he was sure Kishka would be proud of. After that, though, his tone turned more somber, more so than even his usual dispassionate voice.
"In my first week at Haven, and for a few thereafter, four humans ganged up on me hard enough to tear a few of the scales off my face. Outside of the arena, too - you won't find that in any combat tapes. It was long before you came, too. Not just in Haven, either - I apprenticed under a Faunus Huntsman and Huntress when I was younger, before coming here. Any village with a completely human population tended to run us out when they found out what we were. That, or tried to lynch us. Even if we'd just saved them from bandits or Grimm. Didn't really matter to them."
Argent shrugged and shifted quietly, glancing out over the forest.
"There's no need to apologize. I'm not someone easily offended by facts. People will always be afraid of what they don't understand. If there were no Faunus in the world, you'd turn on each other just as easily. It's a short jump from "animal features" to "human features", after all. Sooner or later you'd be killing each other because the other guy's skin was too pale and he had blonde hair, or because he drank his water from a bottle instead of a waterskin."
The archer exhaled quietly, scratching at his temple gently as he continued to scan the surrounding area, his head on a steady swivel.
"Not to say my kind are any better, mind. Humans aren't too welcome on Menagerie, or so I've heard. And some kinds of Faunus types tend to get singled out more than others. The smaller herbivores, mostly. Mice. Rabbits. It varies. My mentor told me about it, but I've never seen it happen myself, if only because Haven is the largest collection of Faunus I've ever seen in my life."
Now he turned back to Alexandros, golden eyes looking straight into the other's own amber hues.
"But that's why we're here, isn't it? To protect people - not just from the Grimm, but from each other. It's why we have bandits, and gangs, and criminals running amok at the expense of others - and why they'll send us to be the ones to snuff them out. Like a rotting tree, you have to prune away the moldering parts before they can infect the rest. Don't you think so, Alexandros?"
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)
Post by Alexandros Skouriá on Oct 4, 2019 4:24:59 GMT -5
The boy's attention was divided perfectly in two. While part of his mind continued to focus on the matter of stitching, another was listening with great interest to the spiel being offered from the silver-haired student. Infrequent and ineffectual nodding of the head punctuated his listening with no sense of timing, while his eyes stayed perfectly fixed on the needle and thread and ribbon working itself between his fingers. Argent was quite obviously a much better speaker than Alexandros could ever hope to be, clearly and effectively communicating ideas with a degree of confidence the shorter boy was lacking in; Alex was talkative, certainly, but never all that good at talking. He was quiet and prone to the occasional stammer or tripping upon words, much more fond of being a participant in receiving social energies than any sort of leader. Still, it was nice. The easy conversation made the busy-work go by with great haste, and in no time at all the yellow band was made whole again Alexandros brought the trailing thread up to his mouth and ripped it clean apart with a bite and tear, removing the pin and putting away his supplies before tying the mark of the Dandelions to a point just below his left elbow. The join had created a rather obvious 'bump' in the fabric made all the more obvious by the heavy black stitching, but it seemed like it would hold itself together. With a final clumsy tightening pull, the black-haired brawler nodded at his handiwork and replaced the gloves in his duffel bag with the sewing and medical kit. One after the after, the gloves were slipped back on, punctuated with a freely-flowing and flourishing tightening then loosening of each finger; along the back of his hand, the long metal plate bobbed and shifted as each knuckle coiled in upon itself then back out straight again, and it was only after an extended moment and internal satisfaction that the Skouriá boy clasped both hands together and nodded at all that his companion had said.
"Yeah. Of course. If there's one reason to be at any of the academies, then that's it," he replied, giving a final, further inspection of the whole-again ribbon back on his arm. "Somebody has to be the one to play the part of the hero, and to help those who can't do it themselves; the world needs huntsmen and huntresses, just as much as they need the people they're protecting. So, yeah, that's why we're here. That's why I'm here. That's why you're here too, I'm sure."
Alexandros tugged once at each glove, then let out a long sigh and looked at Argent. A smile was still there on his face, but it was different. "I think... being a cynic is easy," the young Skouriá added after a moment. "The world is too good for that kind of low-effort, pessimistic drivel. It's worth saving; I don't care how long it has to take, but one day we'll save it. Grimm, or bandits, or whatever -- they aren't going to win. As long as there's people like you and I, they won't win. So, I- yes, that's why I'm here. Maybe it's not the best choice for somebody like me to have made, though it was the only choice that was there to take. When I was a kid I didn't ever want to do this sort of thing, but it's not about me; it falls on those who are capable and kind-hearted enough to try and protect those who need protecting, so when life gave me a sign and set a path before me, I took it. I'm still taking it, I suppose you could say."
His left hand tightly pressed itself into a fist, sending a tiny twitch of pain up through the arm. "Faunus and humans shouldn't hate each other. You said it yourself that we're here to protect people, but we need to look after ourselves too. I'm not going to lie to you and say that I understand how it feels to be hated just for being- well, just for being at all, but I know as much as anybody that it's not fair. Don't ever let anger or contempt, or anything like that win, okay? We can't afford to give up or lose sight of the future, no matter what."
Alexandros relaxed, scanning up and down the length of his left arm and ending with a shake of the head. His gaze held on the bandages for a short while, then darted away and turned up toward the open sky visible in the clearing. The forecast from the day before had predicted a great deal of rain to come crashing down upon Mistral and its forest, but from where he stood there was no way it would happen -- maybe later, but not now. It was a last little beacon of reassuring joy and inspiration, and a moment of tremendous calm after the chaos the two had endured. This is going to be an interesting day, he thought. "I'm rambling, aren't I?" the boy asked with a chuckle, looking over toward his fellow would-be huntsman and giving another little tug at each glove. "Thank you, Argent. As much as I'd love to rest here and have a chat, we both have an examination to pass. Now's as good a time as any to get moving."
Post by Argent Steele on Oct 5, 2019 22:14:45 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.
❝
"Yeah. It is."
The snake Faunus didn't mention the details. Shin and Jade's ideals were a torch that he had decided to carry down a long time ago, but when it came to how things were in the here and now he had a far more digestible reason for becoming a Huntsman - to no longer be a burden on them as they pursued the never ending horizon of those ideals. Shin had extended a hand to him in his darkest hour, and brought him out of what would have been a sad and lonely future, one that might have been cut short at any time. Unlike just about everyone of importance in his life up until that time, Shin hadn't left him behind to fend for himself. Shin had taken it upon himself to give a young boy hope, to guide him on to the proper path, like a hero from a radio serial who always saved who he could. Shin had been the one to vouch for him in the Schnee company incident, had been the one to track down the evidence needed to exonerate him, had been the one to offer him a path into Haven...
He owed the man so much. Argent didn't know if he could ever repay him. Not that Shin had ever expressed his desire to be repaid for anything he'd done, of course. He was just never that kind of guy.
The snake Faunus listened to Alexandros speak, and managed the smallest of grins, though he stifled it almost as quickly as it had come, so that the other didn't think that it was directed at him when all he'd wanted to do was express concern for his fellow student. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before, but not from a human, and certainly not from a stranger whom he'd only just barely met.
"You're right," he said, a short nod affirming his words as he started forward, gesturing for the other to follow.
"Let's go."
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)