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.
It was later in the day. The evening sky was filled with brilliant variants of red, orange, and yellow. The school day was over. Most students were either relaxing in their dorms or in the mess hall. The campus was quiet, only a few students could be seen walking around. Flower looked down, looking at her long shadow extend across the neatly kept grounds.
Flower stood in the courtyard. She wasn’t wearing her school uniform. She didn’t attend Sanctum anymore after all. She reached behind herself, feeling the handle of Bloom, the weapon she had created during her time there. She blinked once, then twice again. She had memories here, but for some reason, she couldn’t recall anything in particular.
She had no real friends she could say she had made. She wondered if her father even realized that at all.
It was her father’s suggestion to come here. The Mistral tournament was in a few days’ time. He said that it would be good to say goodbye and to say thanks. This was the place where she had learned all the talents of being a huntress, the abilities of her aura and semblance, her marksmanship. The place was more than familiar. The buildings and the grounds were places she had seen so many times before. She looked down to a well-kept flower bed below her.
Pansies in the colors of blue and white stared back at her.
She remembered looking down to them before. She had asked the groundskeeper once or twice if she could help take care of them. She liked gardening. It reminded her of her mother and how she would take care of flowers. She specifically remembered to go say hello and thanks to the groundskeeper.
She had also said hello to her weapons professor. He had been a very patient man to help her create Bloom. Flower had wanted to do everything herself. She had believed that it was the proper thing that most huntsmen and huntresses did for their weapons. She didn’t realize that most others weren’t as obsessed about it as she was. It only made sense in her mind, it was the weapon that she would depend on in a life or death situation. It needed to work to every specification she desired. It also needed to be somewhat stylish. And it needed to be made of quality metal, It was for quick access for a transformation, thanks to her semblance.
Other than those two, she felt no reason to say anything to anyone else.
She felt her phone vibrate. Her father had texted her.
Will be home late, meeting with some clients! Dinner’s in the fridge, honeydew. <3
Okay Dad, thanks. Good luck with the clients. (´• ω •`) ~
So, she didn’t really have to go home anytime soon. She sighed quietly to herself. The shadows seemed to grow longer with every passing moment. Maybe she could walk around a bit more. The air was nice and the campus itself was a rather nice place really.
Post by Colton Deraine on Feb 11, 2019 23:50:41 GMT -5
[googlefont=Open+Sans]
[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
He was going to miss this place.
Sanctum Academy was one hell of a ride for Colton, and this past year he was able to ride the absolute high of being the undisputed top dog of campus. He had won that title alongside the Fourteenth Mistral Regional Tournament last year, and since then he went from one of the cockiest teenagers in the school to justifiably one of the cockiest teenagers in the school. Every girl wanted to be with him, and every guy wanted to be him – and quite frankly? That was how it should be. He was the best in the school and had proved it against a full field of 64 the year before. He was the best candidate in Mistral, and one of the very few to receive an offer from Haven Academy before the Fifteenth edition of the tournament even started. Even if he placed dead last or simply chose not to participate, he would still be off to Haven by the end of the month.
Some of his lower ranked classmates were happy to stay in and finish out the regular school year, giving up all hopes of becoming a huntsman in order to secure regular employment. It was commendable for those who lacked the skills and the grit necessary to advance further be self aware enough to not only acknowledge this but plan for it. It meant that Sanctum would look better on the international stage by having fewer students fail to even make it past the first day – and avoid having any of those incompetent shits fail to make it past the preliminaries. It left the ones with the actual grit and talent required to get admitted to a Big Four Academy to go out and dogfight for those other spots.
Standards would be lowered due to The Fall and the larger than normal incoming class at Haven, but to be honest anyone who slipped through the cracks and got admitted when they should not have been would only get enjoyment out of that fact for a short time. They’d just die off sooner or later, because it was almost impossible to fake critical things like martial skill and reliability under fire that were all but required in order to actually get your Huntsman license. Someone unworthy slithering in would just get themselves killed, so he supposed it wasn’t the end of the world because there would naturally be some course correction when it came to things like that.
Those who couldn’t cut it would simply die off when they couldn’t manage to do the missions, and they would very likely have to start doing those missions much earlier than previous students had to… the fact of the matter was that there simply wasn’t a lot of people left who could do them in Mistral at all, so they would have to step up. That meant that the best available people needed to be in that opening class, and the people who weren’t ready to step up to the plate to that level needed to keep themselves well away from the Fifteenth Tournament if they lacked the guts to even accept if they managed to get far enough to get a scout’s attention.
Sanctum was a great primary combat school, sure, but it could only polish a piece of shit so much. There needed to be something there innately in order for polish to do anything, and the sad fact of the world was that there were some people who just didn’t have what was required in order to continue. There was nothing wrong with that inherently, it was just the way the world worked. Someone who was born with the skills to be the best baker in Mistral would have a terrible time if they stubbornly decided to pursue sculpture despite having naturally poor hand-eye coordination. It was through no fault of their own, but the hands they had been dealt by fate. The only shame came when they railed against that fate despite it being completely obviously they had no talent for their chosen pursuit.
While his aura was controlled enough to protect him from at least the brunt of the cold, he still preferred to wear jackets and other winter clothing just the same. A brown leather jacket all zipped up covered his torso, and thick blue jeans had his legs covered. Brown leather boots completed the ensemble, and those very same boots crunched the snow underneath him as he made his way out to the outside of the gym one more time. There was a list of awards and trophies inside the building that the students had won over the years, sure, but outside in the main training area was something really quite special. On the wall there was a mural with every winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament, with Colton Deraine being the last one in 24 AV. It wasn’t a perfect drawing, not by any stretch. He felt like his nose was a little too big on the picture and his face a little too long, but it would do.
It was his lasting legacy here, and what people would remember him years from now for. Generations, even, but his story wasn’t going to stop there. Regret, his backsword, was sheathed at his left hip and his right arm had Omen, his shield, all curled up and protecting the majority of his left arm like a vambrace. This was not uncommon, even less so on the Sanctum campus. The boy was infamous for taking fights early and often and calling people out to settle things in a fight when he didn’t like what they were saying. It was much easier to prove that an idea was stupid by beating the sense into someone than poking at useless diagrams on a chalkboard, after all.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a figure that looked vaguely familiar, but then again, most figures looked vaguely familiar. There were only so many shapes something like a human being could take, so they all blurred together to some degree anyway. It was past hours for class to be in session, and there shouldn’t really be anyone else around. She wasn’t wearing the uniform, either, which wasn’t a red flag considering that Colt himself wasn’t… but still someone out at this hour was odd. All the degenerates who were not participating in the tourney were off partying tonight or in their room like the asocial hermits that they were… and those that were participating in the tourney had mostly either gone home or even to Colton’s own private training gym in Argus that he had temporarily modified in order to act as sort of a makeshift dorm for the people that he both didn’t hate and wanted a place to stay. You could stay on campus, but nobody willingly did that unless they were hella weird. You got some money off of your housing deposit back if you backed out early, and people wanted the most of that as possible to start their new lives at Haven off with typically speaking. The school year ended early for them specifically because Haven needed students so badly and had asked Sanctum and the other schools to accommodate for those who were given offers. Those who got to graduate a bit early were given the money that would have been spent on the last few months of housing and sent on their way to bring glory to Mistral or whatever.
”You lost?” he called out, pointedly. Either a trespasser, one of the malformed social rejects fresh from whatever bridge they were usually under, or some other weirdo no doubt… but what the hell. If nothing else, this would be a fun little short story to tell the boys when he got back home regardless of what category this girl actually fell into.
Post by Flower Fiorella on Feb 13, 2019 0:53:13 GMT -5
[attr="class","flowerfio"]
"I try to be understanding because I think that most people are actually quite surprising."
[attr="class","flowerfiotext"]
Of course she felt him approach.
Flower wasn’t looking in his direction, but she knew he was there. It was like a sixth sense, something that most huntsmen were taught, or supposed to have learned at their time in any respectable academy. It wasn’t really a thing the girl had a talent for, but he did little to hide his presence in the first place. Her head only turned to look at him.
“You lost?”
His voice held a reserved curiosity. Somewhat lazy? No, it was cautious, suspicious. Of course, she saw the sword and shield he had at the ready. Bloom was on her back too. Flower’s demeanor remained unchanged.
He wasn’t a student. He wasn’t wearing a uniform at least. He looked a little old to be attending Sanctum anyway. Perhaps it was just as curious because she was the very same.
She blinked once, then twice again. A cold breeze came by sweeping up locks of her silver grey hair. Her exposed skin felt the chill, but she wasn’t bothered by the cold itself. She wasn’t exactly layered like he was, but she had on her regular boots, leggings, dress, and armsleeves. It mainly just left her neck area and upper arms exposed. Her entire frame was still lithe and very small, however. She didn’t react much to his words, only slowly taking them in along with his entire appearance. Her violet orbs stared blankly ahead, almost through the other teen rather than at him. She recognized him.
“No.”
Her voice was quiet but very clear. He asked a question, she provided an answer. There wasn’t much else to add. She wouldn’t say anything else unless he inquired further. She wasn’t the type to make those kinds of conversations. She didn’t need to ask him who he was because she already knew.
Colton Derraine. It was hard not to recognize him. He had his name on lots of trophies, added the umpteenth number of school records, his face was imperfectly painted on a mural that showed him the winner of the 24th Mistral Tournament. He was a rich kid and a popular one. Proud, capable, headstrong, admirable, a huntsman in every sense of the word. She recognized him from all that, but surely, she didn’t actually know him. Obviously, he didn’t know her. Or at least, put up the front that he didn’t recognize her. She wasn’t the type to make a lasting impression on people, she cared little to do so in the first place. It was hard to believe that two very different people had come from the same place.
She waited only for a moment before her head turned away again. Her violet eyes were trained on the sunset the sky remained colored with its hues of red, orange and yellow. It was getting colder, but the girl still showed no signs of being affected by the drop in temperature. She could breathe out and witness her own breath fog up in front of her.
She was waiting for his reaction. Would he stay? Would he go? She didn’t like the uncertainty of it all.
And yet, people were naturally so very unpredictable.
Post by Colton Deraine on Feb 16, 2019 0:28:32 GMT -5
[googlefont=Open+Sans]
[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
This was odd. Colton, for all of his faults, was generally very good at remembering people. The girl looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a name to it at all. It was annoying for sure, though it probably shouldn’t have bothered him as much as it did. Coming from a merchant family, social connections and knowing everyone around you was drilled into him from an early age as being important. Knowing the strengths and weaknesses of everyone around you was exceptionally important in running a business or being a leader, because you needed to know who could handle what.
In a setting like this where the majority of the student body wanted to become a Huntsman or Huntress, too, there was another element involved… scouting. Those pairs or small groups that worked well together naturally wanted to attend the same Huntsman Academy together, in the hopes of forming a team with people they already knew and were comfortable with. While one individual could get to be pretty damn good, there was a limit to what one person could do when it came to many of the missions that Huntsmen undertook. Securing an entire village, for example, would be next to impossible for a solo Huntsman even if they were super skilled. They simply couldn’t be everywhere at once, and there would be far more deaths in the civilian population in the case of a bandit or Grimm attack than if there were two, three, or even four.
Neck cracked audibly as the teenager rolled it and closed his eyes briefly to think. Everyone had something about them that was memorable at some point, they spent literal years together at Sanctum. It was fucking embarrassing if she was a classmate and he didn’t recognize her on sight, but all of a sudden, he remembered exactly who this girl was. He remembered he thought it was unusual that the girl’s name was on the signups for the tournament, because other than her piss poor social skills that had people call her ‘robot’ behind her back there was absolutely nothing exceptional about Flower Fiorella that he could remember. She was rank average in damn near everything he could think of, though her academics might be good – those antisocial types were usually pretty book smart for one reason or another.
”Teachers are gone for the day. If you’re here for the tech club information about some of our opponents, it’s not going to be finished until later tonight or tomorrow. It’s not going to be a lot, though, there’s a fuck ton of people registered this year and a lot of wild cards.” he said, assuming that she was here for that and not just randomly strolling by for no reason. It wasn’t exactly a secret that some of the guys and girls not participating in the tournament had volunteered to do some grunt work in research some opponents for the people who were, but he was kind of surprised that Flower was told to be honest.
He realized then why he hadn’t recognized her more quickly, and it was because he couldn’t remember one time he had seen her outside of the school uniform… or once outside of school for that matter. Come to think about it, he couldn’t remember one person she was friends with or stuck around, either. How she found out about the little project they were doing was kind of a mystery, and at the moment the brunette was happy to just let it remain a mystery. A teacher probably let her know or something, something boring and probable. While he may not have interacted with the girl very much… or at all during their mutual time at Sanctum, it wasn’t like he was going to be petty and not freely give out information at this stage. Her semblance was a transformation type that Colt wasn’t too concerned with, and he didn’t see Flower as a threat to him at all.
She was a ranged fighter whose semblance incentivized her to get in close, but had none of the technical skill that someone like the former champion possessed. She was more than good enough to stomp through lesser opponents, sure, because her semblance was good… But when faced with someone with an equally good semblance and skills or innate talent that she lacked, she was going to hit a ceiling. From what he remembered of her sparring matches in the past, that ceiling could end up being quarterfinals pretty easily if she avoided some other Sanctum Academy graduates along the way, but he couldn’t see her getting much farther than that stage. Maybe semifinals if the bracket was a literal dream for her, but other than that it was very unlikely because the pool would be extremely small at that point.
His brown eyes turned back to the mural wall, seeing as though the robot girl wasn’t exactly keen on chatting. That was fine by him, honestly, because he wasn’t sure he was capable of having a normal human conversation with that one. He wasn’t quite sure how the robot nickname started, but he doubted very much that it was an altogether pleasant experience trying to get anything out of Flower Fiorella.
”Last estimate I was given was two hours. Some people decided to stay in the gym and wait it out while training a bit, but most people went back home and will either come back later tonight or tomorrow morning.” he added, realizing a bit later that she might be looking for someone in particular.
Post by Flower Fiorella on Feb 16, 2019 21:41:28 GMT -5
[attr="class","flowerfio"]
"I try to be understanding because I think that most people are actually quite surprising."
[attr="class","flowerfiotext"]
So he did know who she was.
Flower saw the hint of recognition in his brown colored orbs. Her violet eyes were more observant that they seemed to let on. Of course, he didn’t know her, not many people did. She was silent about the matter, there wasn’t much to say. He recognized her simply because she wasn’t that noticeable. Perhaps it was funny in a way. In their years at Sanctum together, they probably never exchanged even words. Flower was used to it. Certainly, she didn’t consider herself some social pariah, yet everyone else seemed to see her in that light.
The girl simply didn’t say anything back to those labels.
He seemed to say something about… an information club? She blinked, realizing that he was assuming she was there for that reason. It was an odd thing to share, but she saw the advantages of potentially knowing things about her opponents before she faced them in the ring at the tournament. It was odd to think that he was helping her. She wondered if he had any reason to. Maybe he was just that genuine. Flower didn’t really know.
“Hm.”
She nodded once with a small sound of confirmation.
She smoothed out the folds of her dress. She had little opinion of the man she was apparently now talking to. She simply knew him for his achievements and his… arrogance. It was hard not to have an impression of Colton Deraine when he was so keen on making them. Yet through all that, he was capable of backing up all his words and all his talk. It was impressive, to say the least.
If he was waiting for her to say anything more, she didn’t.
Together they seemed to stand a few feet apart, now looking toward the mural wall that held the faces of past winners. She noticed him as the latest addition. An imperfect rendering, but it was obvious it was him. He had a nice face, handsome was really the word for it. Lots of other girls liked him for that reason. Flower wasn’t the type to be swept up in things like that. He was taller than her, but it wasn’t that hard to beat her rather small stature. He kept up his appearance, neat with a perfect posture to match.
He was rather blunt and confident. She supposed that she could understand why so many people seemed to flock to him. He was still under the assumption she was there for someone or that information on the tournament participants. She tilted her head towards him, her face revealing little emotion.
“I’m not here looking for anyone or anything. Thank you for the information, I will take advantage of it if I can.” Just like him, she was direct about her words.
“I came back here today because, though I don’t really look like it, I am what people would call the ‘nostalgic type.’” She continued with her words, practical and informative. Of course, the girl was fully aware of the impression she gave to most other people. She was not as socially oblivious as most people seemed to make her. The term ‘robot’ was not entirely insulting to her in the first place, yet it seemed to be the only thing that stuck to her in all her years at the Academy. Was a good memory? It was hard to determine. She didn’t make that many memories here to begin with.
She gave a short sigh. “May I ask why you are here? You have little reason for the information regarding the tournament participants. As you also mentioned, most people at this time of day are either gone, retired, or off training.” She was curious yes, but she wasn’t sure what kind of answer she was going to be given. It seemed that he wasn’t entirely against conversing with her, she was fine with that. Flower didn’t have many things to say about herself, so instead she decided to make the conversation about him. He probably would have preferred it anyway.
Post by Colton Deraine on Feb 19, 2019 0:33:46 GMT -5
[googlefont=Open+Sans]
[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
The nostalgia comment was good enough for him. ”Fair enough.” were the only words that escaped his lips on that point, largely because he was the same way. Life transitions were hard, and it was all that they had known for years. Yeah, he was excited to be moving onto Haven – but at the same time the Argus native was very aware that the incoming class there would be asked to deal with things that first years haven’t done for decades – because there was no one else to do it. There simply weren’t enough Huntsmen in Mistral to do all the missions, so the students would be pressed into service much earlier and much more often than before.
Those who made it far enough to get an offer had their first gut check there, because there were some who regarded anyone who accepted a Haven offer at this point as a lunatic. Huntsmen had years of training before they were out in the field alone, and just thinking about the sheer number of students coming in and the lack of available Huntsmen period, let alone ones who they could spare teaching… it was going to be a fact of life. There were going to be a number of people who simply weren’t willing to take that risk and would go to either another academy or drop the Huntsman dream altogether when faced with that choice. They weren’t going to have a heck of a lot of people to start with, because the intersection between ‘skilled enough’ and ‘brave enough’ was going to be too small.
Brown eyes went back to the mural wall, clearly looking at the person to the left of Colton’s own image – one Cressida Fox. She was three years ahead of them and had won the Eleventh Mistral Regional Tournament and was in her final year of Haven Academy when she died in The Fall. She fought the same style that Colt did, with even the same instructors and the same school. They were hired by the teenager’s parents specifically because they had taught a champion, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that for the longest time that the Argus native wanted to prove himself equal to her. In many ways, he was in her shadow even with his win because she was still the most successful graduate of the Argus style of swordsmanship. He was a solid number two, but if she had made it to the tournament there was no way in hell she wouldn’t have won it the second time. She was at the top of her game and probably the best fighter he had ever seen.
He had actually sparred her a few times the year after she had won and when she was coming off of a finalist run in the Vytal Festival as a first year, which was absolutely insane considering she and her team were facing off against third years for the most part after the opening round. She had completely and utterly just crushed Colton, because her technique was just so far ahead of his that he couldn’t even land a scratch on her. They were supposed to rematch after the Vytal Festival, but, uh… that obviously didn’t happen. Bright red hair and green eyes stared back at him, but it was just an image… now a memorial to a tremendous amount of wasted potential. Right hand clenched involuntarily brown eyes looked the mural up and down, the likeness was better than his at least.
Flower asking him why he was here knocked him out of a bad head space, which was probably unintentional. While his fanboyism of the former champion wasn’t exactly a secret, it wasn’t exactly advertised to the rooftops either and it would be very possible for her to simply not know. ”Little reason for the info?” he repeated, disbelief in his voice as he did. ”Anyone who doesn’t take free advantages is an idiot. Everyone benefits from knowing who the possible opponents are. Lots of unknowns, but if you end up with someone from one of the other academies with a bunch of footage or info on them it’s better for anyone to know rather than go in blind.”
”As for why I’m here, same as you.” he shrugged, still looking at the mural with his jaw tightened and a forced smile. ”Not going to be in Argus for too much longer. Gotta see the sights while I can.” he said, shrugging once more. He knew the score, he was going to Cress’s old school even and wasn’t nearly ready to fill in those shoes when it came to actual Huntsman work. But he was going to try anyway, because he was the closest there was in this year’s graduating class. On paper, at least, their resumes and list of accomplishments would look very much the same. If he won this year, then he might even have a better looking one than she did. She had only won once, after all, largely due to a freak accident that fucked up her leg one year right before the tournament. Colt was great at not getting injured in freak accidents, at least, so he had the chance to do what nobody else had and win back to back tournaments. That’d be pretty nice, and he thought he may have a shot despite this year more than likely being the most competitive ever because of all the open slots and all the foreign wild cards coming in specifically for this event.
If there was anything that Colton Deraine never lacked, it was an intense desire to win even when it did him little to no good to do it. His ticket was already punched in, but he was still very much approaching the tournament like he was a nobody and doing his best to eke out every small advantage that he could. It was the only way he knew how to win, and he would continue doing it because that’s just how he was. He couldn’t do it any other way, because that would be akin to giving up – and that would just be insulting. If someone beat him, he didn’t want to hide behind some bullshit sandbag defense where his ego would be kept intact by telling himself that he simply wasn’t trying hard. That would be disgusting behavior that would just piss on all the effort everyone sunk in in order to prepare for the tourney.
Post by Flower Fiorella on Feb 20, 2019 1:04:56 GMT -5
[attr="class","flowerfio"]
"I try to be understanding because I think that most people are actually quite surprising."
[attr="class","flowerfiotext"]
“Fair enough.”
That was all he initially said in response to her being ‘nostalgic.’ Perhaps she was expecting some other words along with them, but as soon as he said them his brown eyes wandered away from her. The mural once again seemed to stare back with giant portraits of champions of the academy. His attention, surprisingly, was not on himself, but instead, he seemed to focus on the face next to his.
Cressida Fox.
Flower only knew the name because it was a Mistral winner. She vaguely recalled that yes, the woman had been a student at Sanctum as well. Their respective senior. She didn’t know her at all.
“You knew her, Cressida Fox. She is dead.” Her statements came out like questions, but the answers were rather obvious. “When you look at her, your eyes see the past.” A simple observation. The huntress was dead, Flower vaguely recalled her name being listed as one of those many lost in The Fall. It wasn’t her place to pry, yet Flower was still intrigued. The proud and arrogant front that was Colton Deraine may yet have other sides to him. She wasn’t surprised if he wouldn’t show them to her, but it would have been equally unexpected if he decided to share something so personal. She knew was it was like to lose someone. She could sympathize.
To be fair, the Sanctum Academy there were at was a place of the past now. There was nothing wrong with looking at the past. A time of reflection was a brief moment of reprieve before being thrown back in the crazy world of Huntsmen, Grimm, and whatever other dangers humanity would be faced with as they, mere teenagers, would be at the frontlines of it all.
Her words seemed to bring him out of his head. At once, he reverted back to what Flower expected of the young man’s behavior. She blinked once, tilting her head as she came to understand her fault in logic. “I apologize for my incorrect assumption that you had no need to be part of the tournament at all. I made a conclusion from my own perspective that you, Colton Deraine, with your record and past accomplishments would have no desire to do such a thing. However, I did not factor in your ego or personal reasons that I was ignorant of.” She gave a short bow of apology to him, though her voice remained relatively monotone throughout her dialogue. However, it was still just as curious. Colton Deraine had little reason to participate in that year’s tournament since his ticket to Haven was practically already signed, sealed, and delivered. Yet he still desired to participate. As she stated aloud, if Flower had the option, she would have chosen not to, it was an extraneous task that had little merit to it.
But Colton Deraine still decided to.
”As for why I’m here, same as you.”
Hearing his next words, she observed his movements carefully with blank violet eyes. He was a ‘nostalgic’ type as well? Perhaps that assumption was already proven by his earlier reminisce of Cressida Fox. She saw him shrug, his physical movements seemed less careful, the smile was simply plastered on. Flower understood that she herself was not the ideal example of expressing emotion through physical action, yet she rather enjoyed trying to read other people to an extent. Her mind that so often desired logic and reasoning found unexplainable things like human behavior so very fascinating indeed. It seemed to be the second unexplainable and illogical thing that Colton Deraine was expressing to her that evening.
She turned away a moment, looking to the city skyline that could be seen from the school. Violet eyes gazed over the landmarks of the school grounds itself. Buildings and pathways she’d seen nearly every day of her life for the past few years. Yes, in just a few short weeks she would likely never return to this place again.
“Do you plan on never coming back?”
Another question, she seemed to be asking so many in the past few moments. Perhaps the better question was that if he had any reason to. “We both know, the life of huntsmen is often shortlived, quite literally. I don’t know how many people go into this profession thinking they’ll make it to a long and easy retirement.” There was perhaps an untimely morbid joke in her words, however, Flower wasn’t quite laughing herself. She had a rather practical view on mortality. Death was a part of life after all.
She breathed out again, the fading lights above them and the sky darkening yet still. The ground lights were already on their night timers, turning on as the sunset continued to fade. Lighting the campus aglow, it was a rather peaceful sight. The girl looked around slowly.
Flower wanted to remember it, because just maybe, it was a sight she wouldn’t see again.
Post by Colton Deraine on Feb 22, 2019 4:35:28 GMT -5
[googlefont=Open+Sans]
[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
If this was in public, the bluntness from Flower would have pissed him off and thrown him off balance. All alone, though, he took it in stride. He assumed someone had just told her at some point, it wasn’t all that unusual. None of the interaction he had with Cress was exactly a secret, and especially early on his intense respect and admiration for the girl shone through. He had outgrown that quickly, at least showing it, but anyone who had interacted with him a lot that freshman year would have been very aware of how he had studied her style and did his absolute best to emulate it as much as he could over the years. While he had grown to be more than a lesser carbon copy over time, their fighting styles were still extremely similar. Both focused on precision over brute strength, and a style that emphasized tying up the opponent’s weapon while simultaneously attacking as well as dancing in and out and taking free hits to the leg and hand to chip away at aura while remaining very close to unscathed themselves.
”Yup.” was the only verbal response that he gave, because his classmate got it in one. He was looking at the past, because that girl’s future was ripped from her due to something completely and utterly outside of her control. It wasn’t fair, but that was life sometimes. She had done everything right, and still got fucked in the end by a freak accident that she couldn’t do anything about and could not have possibly predicted or reacted to.
The next bit from his classmate was perceived as an insult, because it was one. Calling out someone’s ‘ego’ as the reason why they did something was in poor taste at best, but again largely due to the situation there wasn’t much of a reaction except for a slight narrowing of the eyes and a facial twitch. If this was almost anywhere else, he would have snapped back a reply that wasn’t very nice and it would have been completely justified.
Standing right where he was, though, in front of the wall of champions had a way of forcing him to show some restraint. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but this was one of the very few places where he had an acute feeling of inferiority. He considered himself the best from of the outgoing seniors of Sanctum, which of course translated into being the best in Mistral by default. The Argus native did not consider himself on the same chart as someone like Cressida Fox, even accounting for the fact that she was older than him by a few years. Her at the same age would have wiped the floor with him, and Colt was acutely aware of that fact. The brunette was Cress’s replacement at Haven, essentially, but it was like swapping a suped up racing car with a bicycle. Sure, they did the same thing in theory… but the bicycle was so much worse.
He didn’t respond verbally, and when Flower looked away brown eyes went right back to the mural to look over the faces of the former champions once more. She asked if he was ever going to return, and another shrug preceded the reply: ”If you mean the city, I have to at some point. If you mean the school, it’s the same. Gotta give the next Sanctum kid to win the tourney some unreachable bar to match up to, yeah?”
The tone was given as if it was a silly question, because of course he’d be back. It might not be the one that she expected, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that he cared a lot more about the prestige of the school and how it was perceived than most others. To make the school look better, to provide its students with more opportunities just ensured that the best of the best of the upcoming group would continue to go to Sanctum and keep that legacy of excellence intact. He had a duty to do it, just like Cress had before him to reach out to the people who were younger and less experienced and guide them along a bit if they needed it.
Her next comment elicited a snort from the teenager, because it repeated something that he had said a lot over the years. Being a Huntsman was dangerous as hell, and anyone who expected anything other than working their ass off to avoid dying when they got that license was in for one hell of a rude awakening.
”Yeah, it’ll be interesting to see who actually has the guts to come to Haven after all that’s happened.” he noted, voice neutral instead of mocking like he might have done before. It was fucking terrifying to know that you were going to be flung into missions and village defense within the first few months due to sheer necessity. ”I gotta at least make it to next year, though, the Vytal Festival is in Mistral next.” he joked, but not finishing what was on his mind next as his eyes drifted back to the image of Cress.
So I can finally match up and look at you as an equal.
Post by Flower Fiorella on Feb 24, 2019 18:35:05 GMT -5
[attr="class","flowerfio"]
"I try to be understanding because I think that most people are actually quite surprising."
[attr="class","flowerfiotext"]
“Yup.”
It was all he said to her about her statements regarding Cressida Fox. She simply looked back at him, seeing that maybe yes, it really wasn’t her place to pry. The silence about it was almost comforting, silence spoke louder than words sometimes. It was his time of reflection, she understood that. Whoever this Cressida Fox was, she did mean something to Colton Deraine.
She was dead now. And Colton Deraine still remembered her.
Flower supposed that was just the thing that anyone would have wanted after they were gone, to be remembered by someone. To make memories that mattered, perhaps she hadn’t really lived life to the fullest until she knew what those kinds of memories were. She considered her life a rather boring one to begin with, but Colton Deraine had left his mark upon Sanctum and soon enough he would continue that legacy at Haven.
He made some sort of response to her next set of words. Her own expression remained rather blank after she lifted her head from her short bow. She found his illogical actions curious, and maybe even on a different sense, admirable. Certainly, she wouldn’t risk her own reputation. She played things safe and garnered results that would most likely occur with minimal risk.
A risk-taker? Was that who Colton Deraine was? Maybe it wasn’t the kind of person she so often pictured him to be. She wasn’t really sure about the kind of person she thought that Colton Deraine was, she had never really met the man or even talked to him until their current conversation. She supposed he didn’t have an impression of her either. Rumors and impressionable masks, they both knew to wear them and only knew each other by them. She liked to think there was always someone else behind the mask, but she never really had the chance to explore such things with people. It seemed that Colton Deraine had his own way and she just found something curious about that.
His next words were just practical, at least Flower saw it as a practical kind of answer. She was planning on coming back to the city as well. It was where her father lived, she was expecting to come back. As for the academy, Flower had only come back because her father had suggested it.
He stated he was coming back for the sake of being some kind of new, unreachable goal.
“You wish to be like Cressida Fox.”
Another statement that sounded like a question, yet there was already an answer that was known. She was his dead idol, in the bluntest sense, she had decided. She wasn’t exactly looking at him, he seemed to constantly be looking at the mural wall that depicted his and Cressida Fox’s faces respectively. He saw Cressida Fox as an ‘unreachable bar.’
Flower tilted her head yet again.
“Why do you strive for a goal if you know it is unattainable?”
The logic behind it made no sense in Flower’s mind. Violet eyes stared at the murals as well, looking at the faces of champions past gave her little inspiration about what she could do. For the most part, she realized that her own skills as a huntress were about average. Was she simply at a plateau that she could not surpass? It was an easy conclusion, but was it a fair one to herself? She simply came to those thoughts because of her own abilities and where they were at. What was the use of striving for a goal that could not be reached?
Essentially, he almost made light of the situation. He wasn’t planning to die, hardly anyone really did. He said that it would be ‘interesting’ to see who would be courageous enough to go to Haven. Considering the Fall her father was also worried about her status of attending Haven, yet Flower didn’t seem to give the same kind of caution. She understood the life of a huntsmen constantly meant to put one’s life in danger. No, dying earlier wasn’t ideal, but it was very much a possibility.
The Vytal Festival.
It seemed like a long time away. Flower remembered the festival being in once Mistral when she was small. She and her parents of course had gone to the festivities and the arena, it seemed like a huge kind of deal.
“You should make Haven proud with your abilites. Within a year, your growth will likely be will already be that of a second-year huntsmen or further.”
Flower breathed out, while it could have been perceived as a compliment, the girl was simply making an observational statement. He had his growth rate, which was excellent in comparison to others. He was already a certain step in training and ability than everyone else at Sanctum. But yet one certain thing still remained, the past certainly seemed to inspire him, but was it a ‘problem’ if the past was something he seemed to only look at? When Flower looked to her past, she remembered mostly her mother, her father, and few others.
She had decided to become a huntsmen because it was how she could explore and affect the world, however small of an influence she could be. It seemed like a good idea, and she hadn’t encountered any reasons as to why she couldn’t continue with it.
She was going to be a huntress, what came after that she knew little of.
Post by Colton Deraine on Feb 26, 2019 3:52:16 GMT -5
[googlefont=Open+Sans]
[attr="class","firstfriend"]
Bravery is believing in yourself, and that's one thing nobody can teach you.
There was a silence that fell for what seemed like an eternity between them, and honestly Colt probably preferred that silence to the actual conversation… or interrogation, more like. While he would put up with it for now, she was in for a trip if she thought she could do this every time she saw him from then on. Shit was weird and uncomfortable first of all and prying to the max second of all. If this was the legendary lack of social skills he had heard about, he was very thankful that this was his first experience with this girl. If the powers above were willing, the incoming class at Haven would be big enough to where the next experience would be like… maybe six months from now? A long way off, at any rate, because he wasn’t quite sure he could handle any more frequent conversations with this weirdo. There was a visible change in facial expression when she said he wanted to be like Cressida Fox, because everyone should want to be like her.
”Cressida Fox was the ideal Huntress. Brave enough to never falter, skilled enough to match up with licensed Huntsman by the end of her first year, and with a semblance powerful enough to lock down dozens of Grimm at once. She wasn’t just the best at Haven, she was the best out of anyone of the Big Four. That’s not even an insult to anyone else, it’s just really rare for someone to have a semblance as strong as hers and also skills outside of it that were top notch as well. Usually people are one or the other, with a really strong semblance they rely on or a bunch of other skills that they learned to compensate for a lack of a really strong one.”
He was another example of someone who didn’t quite follow that mold, but to a much lesser degree. His own semblance in Polarity was good, sure, but nothing compared to Gravity. Truth be told, she was good enough to get away with not using her semblance at all for the most part. It wasn’t common knowledge, because her lack of practice with her semblance cost her the finals in her first year. She had rectified the issue completely by the time The Fall happened, and quite frankly nobody would have stood a chance. Very few people knew what her semblance was, and Colton had only figured it out because he watched so much tape on her and asked directly to get confirmation. Magnetism was good, sure, but it was nothing compared to the ranged ability to increase the pull of gravity in an area. Hell of a way to negate any speed or agility advantage, that, and quite frankly probably the strongest semblance he knew of out of anyone.
Colton was following the same trajectory by focusing hard on the martial arts and physical skills first, and then moving onto semblance control second. It was a tried and true method and had worked for Cress. If it was good enough to work for her, it was good enough to work for him. The only thing that limited him was his skill ceiling and how fast he would learn enough to be competent enough to survive and compete at the Big Four level. Normally a trainee who got into a Huntsman Academy had their entire first year to get up to speed and catch up, but that wasn’t going to be case for anyone admitted to Haven. They were going to be thrown in the deep end very quickly, and they would either sink or swim to begin with and go from there. Except in this case, sinking likely meant that you died or got seriously injured and didn’t exactly get a second chance.
”Why do you insist on becoming a Huntress when there are other options available to you, knowing that you’ll be thrust into combat in your first year even if you do get in? Knowing that your chances of even surviving for long enough to get your license are not great?” was the Argus native’s response to the question as to why he strove for a goal that was unattainable. He dodged the question by simply asking another question, but that was the intent.
The answer was fairly obvious, and the reason why most people who were still committed to going for Haven Academy in particular still had that goal… a sense of duty, because they felt they had to. It was the same for him, though he was committed to Haven from the start. He wanted the opportunity to train with his idol, but his motivation changed to taking up the responsibilities that she was forced to leave behind. As a replacement, he was a cheap knock off of the real thing… but a knock off was better than the alternative of having nobody in the same mold to work with.
Was he ready? Fuck no. Was he equivalent? Fuck no. Was he worthy? No, not really. But he was the closest they had to a replacement, so he wasn’t about to go to somewhere safer where he could stall for more time to develop at the cost of more lives. If someone worse than him were to try and take the same spot, they’d have an even higher chance of dying than he did. Leaving other people to die in order to secure his own short term safety wasn’t a thing he was willing to do. What was that old saying? Pain is temporary, but glory was forever? Yeah… he liked the sound of that.
Most would have taken the next comment about his perceived growth curve to be a compliment, but the brunette just snorted. ”Not good enough. I need to be as good as the other school’s third years to have a shot, and so does anyone else who wants to win the thing.”
”One bright side is that we’ll have a hell of a lot more solo experience than most of the students at other academies when it comes time. It’s not like there are a lot of licensed Huntsmen left in Mistral these days, so we’ll be doing missions left and right once they let us loose.”
Even in shitty situations, there was always a silver lining if you were willing to take enough liberties with it. This was one where you had to take a lot of liberties, but even forced positives were better than no positives. Brown eyes moved away from the mural and regarded the strange girl again as he said that last sentence as he started walking slowly back in the direction of the school.
”See you at the tournament. With your semblance it won’t be hard to get the attention of the scouts.” he remarked offhandedly, because it was true. Transformation semblances were sought after for their strength, especially with the need for strong first years. It wasn’t uncommon for the top students of a year to all be transformation type semblance users, though this year was one of the exceptions. The departure was abrupt, but quite frankly he could do without the whole probing his inner thoughts by what amounted to really a stranger. It wasn’t the most pleasant experience in the world, and although he was willing to play along and speak freely for a little while he did not intend on doing it for the next couple of hours while the nerds got finished putting together those information documents.
Honestly, he’d rather either watch them work or get in training with some of the others at this point. Anything was better than standing out in the cold and continuing to get interrogated by this robot, and the worst part was he wasn’t sure if she was even doing it maliciously. It was very possible she was just so socially inept that she didn’t know any better, but it sure as hell wasn’t his job to explain to that weirdo that shoving survivor’s guilt into someone’s face over and over wasn’t exactly the best way to make friends or form social relationships with anyone. She would find it out herself, or be as isolated at Haven or wherever she ended up as she was at Sanctum and would have nobody but herself to blame for that fact.
Post by Flower Fiorella on Feb 27, 2019 1:02:26 GMT -5
[attr="class","flowerfio"]
"I try to be understanding because I think that most people are actually quite surprising."
[attr="class","flowerfiotext"]
Flower never thought much of supposedly introspective, perhaps personal topics. Flower was much an open book, despite her outer appearances. Though maybe she never thought that deeply about things. Life was disastrous kind of complicated simplicity, but Flower saw most things in a practical manner. Her reason for becoming a huntress, her observations about people and how they acted, conclusions even about herself never came at much curiosity or intimate thought.
She said that he, Colton Deraine, wanted to be like Cressida Fox.
“Cressida Fox was the ideal Huntress.”
That was his response. Flower only listened, the passion and the purpose behind his voice was obviously made. Flower felt nothing so inspiring, but something in her was still just very curious. His obsession with perfection and being the best was very different from her outlook and her stance. Even as he spoke, he still seemed to find imperfection in others over Cressida Fox. Flower was still unfamiliar with the late huntress, but she supposed that she was just important to the young man.
Was she really his reason to continue the fight? To become the best? She was his goal… Flower found it somewhat hard to follow, even it appeared so simply spelled out to her. Colton Deraine was simply an oddity she couldn’t understand.
But just because she couldn’t understand him, didn’t necessarily mean she couldn’t appreciate him. Flower didn’t understand a lot of people.
He dodged her question, instead throwing a question at her.
She blinked, considering her answer, but then only stared back him with blank violet eyes.
“I wanted to do something new, something that not many people did and not many people are able to do. I wanted to affect the world and be part of it while I was still in it, leave my mark. Because that’s all anyone wants to do, be remembered.”
Unlike him, her voice was not passionate. Monotone and blank, her emotions were something she only ever controlled in a reservation. It was odd, perhaps, that such words could have been so selfish in retrospect. Flower did not consider herself selfish or egotistical, she wasn’t sure if she could be the judge of herself in that manner.
A sense of duty. A sense of pride. Flower really just wasn’t sure if she felt those feelings or that calling or that stir of passion. As far as she could tell, her time at Sanctum had been only memorable in terms of preparing her to be a huntress. Why did she become a huntress? She said an answer that she had told herself long ago. She was already on the path, she couldn't back out because then what would have been the point? Colton Deraine stirred these thoughts within her, yet there was hardly a correct way to answer that question.
She looked to the murals, of the champions past. The truth was, she was hardly a memory in anyone’s mind. She wondered if her desire to be a Huntress was just something like a dream made in vanity.
Flower breathed out again, watching ice cold breathe leave her nose.
“Not good enough.”
Perhaps it was just easy for him to say. He wanted to be better, no, he needed to be better. Violet eyes simply looked on, taking in what the man was saying. He needed to be a winner, the drive was beyond something that Flower could really comprehend. What was so satisfying about ‘winning’? About being ‘number one’? He may have thought her earlier comment about his ‘ego’ was an insult, but he certainly did little to hide it.
He went on to say things like since there were such an inadequate number of huntsmen now, they would be thrust into real missions faster as just hardly trainees themselves. She nodded, once again, the dangerous reality of their job was just on the horizon.
“See you at the tournament. With your semblance it won’t be hard to get the attention of the scouts.”
Their dialogue was over.
Flower nodded to his compliment, giving a respectful bow to him.
“I wish you luck at the tournament as well, Colton Deraine.”
She watched him go, likely off to train or further wait for that tournament information ring. Flower didn’t need to go home anytime soon either, she decided she could take advantage of that information sharing if she could. It was good of Colton Deraine to inform her of it. He wasn’t exactly what the girl would describe as ‘kind’ but he was certainly… practical about those kinds of things.
His spot at Haven was likely already secured. She wondered if she would ever see him again. Flower turned back to the mural, looking at the faces once more. Colton Deraine. Cressida Fox.