TRP is a post-Great War AU RWBY RP set in Mistral City and Haven Academy with no canons, no rank claims, no maidens, and no god interference. We offer a progression system and site-wide events that change the setting based on player actions.
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Mar 10, 2020 13:35:34 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
Kishka was sprawled out on her bed, upper-half of her torso dangling over the side, as she stared up at the book in her hands.
Was her textbook for Doc's course on Dust Chemistry, and frankly, she would have preferred it being any one of the numerous comic books lining the shelves on her walls instead. Tedious, dry, and an absolute bitch of a slog, but studying was studying. Wasn't hard for her to grasp the concepts, really, even though a handful of her classmates struggled with it a bit. It was just annoying, having to forge her way through the dense text.
In the background, a steady stream of baroque pop played softly from her Scroll, plugged into a speaker across the room. One of her favorite songs, which was probably the only thing keeping her focused on the task at hand.
Fortunately, though, Argent had messaged her earlier, saying he'd be by for their usual study session together after he was done training. He'd said he'd be done by nine, but glancing at the time, it was about 9:45 already. She frowned, and set the book aside, crossing her arms over her stomach and just laying there, the blood slightly rushing to her head as she leaned back towards the floor.
It wasn't normally like him to be late.
But lately, it had been a recurring thing. Ever since Rochdale. He'd come back from training, ragged, totally drained of Aura, and completely worn out and exhausted. What had once been study sessions, now usually turned into her tending to the variety of aches and pains he accumulated throughout his training for that day.
At first, it wasn't too bad. But lately, it was getting out of hand. This was the latest he'd been so far, and she was starting to get a little worried about him. Was this how he always felt when she was off picking fights with everyone? She could see why he always seemed so frustrated and concerned- that was what she was feeling, as time didn't seem to move any faster, despite her wishing it could.
Suddenly, she sprung up, rolling off the side of the bed, into her bedroom slippers, in one practiced motion. They were soft and fluffy, and importantly, made her feel exceptionally cute. He'd gotten them for her when she was complaining about how her mom's stupid dog ate her old ones last time she was home for a weekend. Ugh. Dumb little ball of teeth and destruction.
She strode over to the opposite end of the room, and picked up her Scroll, still playing music just loud enough to fill the room with ambient noise, but not too loud- wouldn't want to go blasting music all night, after all, when others might be headed to bed early.
Hmm...
Nothing.
She debated sending another text for a good few minutes, before finally deciding against it. She didn't want to bother him if he was busy. Besides, if he was training, he wouldn't be able to check his messages anyways, and if he had time to do that, then he wasn't really training, was he? No, she set the Scroll back down, and decided to grab a comic to occupy her mind until he arrived.
Her eyes were drawn to the unopened package sitting on her desk. That would do just fine.
Ripping into it, she returned to her surprisingly-comfortable position on the bed, as she stared up into a much more interesting book, now- it was the third issue of the new Alabastor Naples spin-off sequel to Golden-Eyed Werewolf-Slayer: "Silver-Eyed Wolfman-Warrior." She liked it well enough- the art was crisper, but not as soulful as the original, and she loved the more Faunus-friendly tone, compared to the unpleasant racist propaganda in GEWS, even if the writing wasn't quite as solid- felt like it was forced, and just pushing a political message, which was a little annoying, even if she did fully agree with it.
About twenty-two pages in, just as Naples and his sidekick, the risque and notoriously unpredictable Siryy Bleiz, were about to execute their brilliant plan to escape the Atlesian military police, after stealing a prototype weapon capable of deafening any Faunus in the area, Kishka caught the sound of her door opening. She didn't look up immediately, but she did smile, a mixture of affection and relief.
"Hey there, Mr. Punctuality. Missed you." Reaching for her bookmark, she closed the comic and set it to the side, as she stretched her neck back to stare at Argent's upside-down form.
Well. Upside down from her perspective, anyways.
He looked rough, to put it bluntly. Probably the roughest he's looked yet. Which made sense, considering it was now 10:33, putting him a whole hour and a half behind schedule. She frowned a bit, just for a moment, at the clear signs of overexertion. He was working himself to death.
She patted the space on the bed beside her, intending for him to take a seat. "How'd it go? Training, I mean."
Post by Argent Steele on Mar 17, 2020 0:54:32 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 acrid reek of gunpowder still clung to him like a cloak as Argent stepped inside, closing the door behind him. It was just one of the many changes he'd made in his life across the weeks that had passed since touching down in Haven. Gone were the days of pretending he had improved anywhere near enough to be worthwhile of the title of Huntsman student. The real world didn't care for self delusions, and he'd cast them aside when it had become obvious that they were exactly that.
It had started with the guns. He'd practiced, every day he could, renting out as many spare weapons he could from Haven's armory. Gone was the pretense that he couldn't learn to shoot - when he'd broken it down to its component parts, pulling the trigger of a firearm could be calculated for, even if he couldn't feel it as instinctively as he could with anything that was moved physically. So he did what he should have long ago - the snake Faunus tested and recorded everything that could go into such an act, devoured that knowledge and used it to better himself. If he couldn't find an elegant solution, he would brute force the equation until it broke. And that was exactly what he did, memorizing every single factor and variance from a dozen, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand repeated tests until he'd figured it out.
No more excuses.
It had continued with the physical training. Every day after class, it was a sure bet that the snake Faunus could be seen at the running tracks at the training facilities, pushing himself through the paces regardless of weather. Snow, or rain, or sleet - it didn't matter. His body burned with enough heat to chase away the cold while he ran, so what did it matter that he was freezing by the end? As long as he could find those limits and break past them, as long as he could shatter those ceilings so that his body would harden and grow stronger than it was before, physical discomfort didn't matter.
And he'd moved on from there. Always looking forward, always searching for another way to grow stronger and burn away the delusions that had kept him trapped for so long. Because what was weakness but a luxury he couldn't afford? Some day, people were going to count on him again. Someday, he was going to be needed again. When that day came, and come it would - he wouldn't be found wanting. He had to prepare for every scenario, eliminate every weakness and hoard every strength, until he could take on any problem and resolve any situation, if he could just find a way how.
No more excuses.
He'd called off his math tutoring lessons for those that had come, because there was little point in teaching when there was so much to learn. He'd started waking up in the twilight before dawn and sleeping after midnight, because there was little point in resting when there was so much to do. He'd stopped taking the weekends off with Kishka, because there was always something else that needed to be fixed, something else that needed to be learnt, something else that needed to be removed.
No more excuses.
And yet, it wasn't enough.
That was the singular thought that had eaten at him as he'd made his way back from the training facilities at a brisk stride, after a lull in the training program had him finally discovering the time and the fact that his Scroll had run out of battery while he was mowing through the Grimm sequences the holoprojector had thrown at him. There had been a quick stop by his room to grab the requisite materials and drop off his gear, but other than that, it had been a quick journey, as fast as he could make it.
"Sorry. Forgot to charge my Scroll, and lost track of time."
He'd smiled, but his golden eyes were dull and slightly hollow, as they had been for a good few weeks now - and they didn't focus on her. As with a lot of him, it was small, subtle things like that that only someone close to him would notice were a shadow of what used to be. The snake Faunus seated himself by Kishka on the spot she'd indicated, and started picking through his reference materials, the slight slump in his shoulders obvious to her from that close up.
"It was okay. I think I managed to learn a bit more than before. Where did we stop the last time? Was it chemistry or arithmetic?"
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 E] SERPENT'S BENEDICTION: GLARE OF THE GORGON (MARKSMANSHIP) [RANK E] SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: WINGS OF THE WYVERN (ACROBATICS) [RANK F] SERPENT’S BENEDICTION: TALONS OF THE TARASQUE (MARTIAL ARTS)[RANK F]
Post by Kishka Burzanova on Mar 19, 2020 12:59:36 GMT -5
KISHKA BURZANOVA
The gunpowder smell was, at first, a noticeable difference to Kishka, who had poked fun at him for it, but was really proud of him for expanding his horizons. Versatility was never a bad thing, and neither was self-improvement.
At least, she'd assumed self-improvement was never a bad thing.
Now, long after the fact, the scent of gunpowder was as normal on him as it was on her- not even worth noting, let alone mentioning. She just lay there, patiently waiting for him to cross the room to her. "No worries. I get it." She flashed him an upside-down smile as he sat by her side. It was a reassuring smile, far more for him than for her- she hadn't missed the signs of exhaustion and lack of focus radiating from him. They'd known each other for far too long for her to miss obvious changes like those- it was almost insulting to imply otherwise.
A new song popped up on her Scroll, humming softly through the speakers. She thought for a moment before answering his question. "Theoretically, chem. But if I have to pick up that damn book again tonight, I think I'll throw myself off the roof. Shit's drier than a summer in Vacuo." She shook her head, glaring up at the textbook she'd traded for her beloved comics, while waiting for Argent.
In truth, she could have handled another go at the Chemistry text. But Argent needed a break. She could tell, just by looking at him- she'd been in his shoes not too long ago, after all. When you're grinding away on physical training, it takes a toll on your mind as well. She was a lot more accustomed to that sort of rigorous work, so it wasn't hard for her to keep a good balance. But she knew that he was struggling, and he needed something more fun (for him) to occupy his mind.
It helped that math was, for better or worse, largely unrelated to their Huntsman training.
Or well, as unrelated to Huntsman training as it was to anything else, at least. It was still an important basic skill. And something that Argent was an unconquerable god at. Before she met him, she'd considered herself pretty damn good at math, but now it felt a lot like being the world's tallest dwarf, compared to him.
She reached for her math textbook with her leg, tapping it with a toe, and letting her semblance guide it down to her hands, with a small smile of satisfaction. Still wouldn't ever be as strong as Polarity or Vector Manipulation, but it had its uses.
"So arithmetic it is. You remember where we were at last time? I forget." She chose to let him choose what they'd start with. For one, she wanted to see exactly how all the training was affecting his thinking, specifically his memory. But she also wanted to give him the option to pick whatever he wanted to work on- she'd be fine working on anything, as long as it helped him relax some.
Idly, as he presumably set about flipping through the book to the right page, she responded to the first half of what he'd said. "Progress is always good. So that's good." He'd made a lot of progress in the past few months. More than most people could. Hell, more than she had- it was sometimes a little intimidating, just how quickly he was learning, growing. She worried sometimes that he would surpass her someday, and not need her anymore. But those thoughts were quickly quelled.
They had long passed the point in their relationship where they were simply a mentor and her pupil.
Still. Rapid growth was a good thing, but she was concerned that he was taking a heavy toll from it. She'd seen him a lot less often than she would have preferred, in recent weeks. Even when it came to training- he'd been out working alone so often lately. Her little 'missed you,' when he stepped into the room had been intended to be a little cute and a little coy, but only partially.
It was also terribly, terribly, literal.
"You know, I've got some free time this week. Think I could join you for some training? I haven't been down to the range in a while."