( it's probs for the best you write the starter anyway since i know literally nothing about RWBY—case in point, i just had to google the canon name... )
[Club hours are long over and the aged janitor is brooking absolutely no argument when it comes to kicking Bokuto out of the gym so he can finish cleaning and lock the place up. Bokuto has barely five minutes to collect his belongings and snag a practice volleyball before he's unceremoniously shoved out into the cool evening air. He makes about two blocks away before he gives into the urge to perform one last practice serve.
Dumping his bag onto the grassy ground, he tosses, jumps, hits the ball squarely with the palm of his hand with a resounding smack—and then proceeds to warble loudly when he sees it hurtling through the air towards an unlucky passerby.]
[ The assignment is a simple one - a half-day field trip to collect scattered dental pulp and skin tissue from Grimm bones, all under Oobleck’s watchful eye. Every student on the trip has been given a small box with very precise equipment for dealing with minuscule samples—namely, tweezers and scalpels and the like. It’s nice, she thinks, to get out of the classroom for a few hours and enjoy the fresh air, despite the uncharacteristic work. The scent of damp grass and pine needles cloy the air, filling her lungs with dew. Breathing it all in is invigorating, almost lovely.
Ren and Nora are, as ever, only an arm’s length away, with the young man serving as a tepid - but content, with a subdued smile to indicate - minder for the hyperactive young woman. Pyrrha casts them a glance and a smile, warmed by the presence of her friends, before her eyes divert left. ]
Jaune.
[ As ever, she slides in by his side. It’s not a spot she’ll be able to stay in forever, after all. But, for now, it’s where she belongs. ]
Did you find something?
[ He sure seems to be scraping something off a rock with vigor. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that it’s only moss. ]
[ The CERES marketplace has a novelty that has yet to wear off on Pyrrha. She’s too levelheaded, fortunately, for a shopping addiction but there are some days when she skirts the line, ducking into the more upscale boutiques to admire the different cuts and colours. There’s no harm in trying things on, at least; even if she can’t afford to walk out with anything more than what she walked in with. With a few sweaters under her arm, she makes used of the closest changing room. Rather misguidedly, the individual stalls themselves lack mirrors, while the larger changing room foyer is lined with them.
Pyrrha stands in front of one now, smoothing out the few wrinkles from her dress. Silken and snug, it’s a bit too impractical for her tastes. Consideration lasts only a few more moments and then she turns, planning to shed the dress and forget about it—
She’s not prepared for a short, younger girl glaring at her from across the changing lobby. No, not her specifically, but her - chest?
Caught off guard, she gives a polite nod and an awkward smile.
(Something about Anise’s glare glues Pyrrha’s feet to that spot, as if she is incapable of moving without permission. Count the seconds as they add up.) ]
[ It’s a rare thing to see Pyrrha bend her knee for a blessing but she hardly considers herself beyond it. She’s skilled, yes, but hardly the goddess of victory people prescribe her to be. Goodwitch had recommended offering a prayer to one of the great fairies and, never one to dismiss the wisdom of her betters, Pyrrha had made the day-long pilgrimage. The sky had been barely dawning when she had set out; arriving, the sun retreats to mark the achievement.
She’ll likely have to stay the night in the shrine or at one of the lodges nearby.
For now, though, Pyrrha is abeyant. Her hands are clasped behind her back, head bowed. ]
[Kuai Liang had been tasked with accompanying the students of Haven to Vale for the Vytal festival and had opted to take some of the sparring classes himself so that Glynda could rest. He was curious how Beacon's students would react to his style of combat. After all, aura was his weapon, and he stood in the ring empty handed.]
[ Pyrrha’s patrol often took her to the more questionable corners of Random Jamjar City, complete with questionable NPCs milling aimlessly. Only a few hours of day - if they’re good, if the City’s programmers and architects on high deem so, using only a compass known to them - before night swallows again. With it, threats are woven into the brick walls, the paved streets, the flickering lampposts. Back home, she had been a Huntress-in-training, so it made sense to Pyrrha for her to Protect (capital P) and Serve (capital S) to the best of her ability. To this day, a foe hasn’t been able to get a scratch on her.
That’s not to say she isn’t wary, in these webbed corners. The hair on the back of her neck prickles, as it would for anyone, when a child’s unearthly giggle comes just so close to her ear. Turning and finding nothing there only makes it worse. Amid the grouping of NPCs, teeth bared and eyes narrowed in mistrust, she spots another Transplant - like her, a foreigner, tugged by the programmers into this strange world. It’s not hard to spot one another if you know what to look for. The very air longs to reject them, after all.
But this isn’t a safe place, and that’s what goads her into speaking. At six foot nothing, with her javelin and shield strapped to her back, Pyrrha hardly looks compromised - but can the same be said about him? ]
Excuse me.
[ Her tone is even and elegant, as ever, with not a hitch raised. ]
It’s awfully late. [ Late, in this incident, is code for dangerous. Behind them, NPCs begin to stand, their eyes firmly on Odin and Pyrrha. This is not a place the two of them are welcome. ] Would you like me to escort you to the nearest train station?
[ —at the sudden shout, Pyrrha whirls around on a heel. Her stance is perfect and precise, and when the volleyball careens through the air, calmly bringing it to a standstill is no problem. With the volleyball tucked safely in her arms, its momentum stopped, she looks around in bewilderment.
And then she spots Bokuto. ]
Pardon me! Is this yours?
[ Fortunately, she doesn’t sound mad. Far from it, in fact. ]
[ It’s not often she’s up against one of the instructors. In her usual interaction with them, Pyrrha is respectful, polite - nearly deferring. Honoured, occasionally, when lauded by their words of praise. (She’s the Pyrrha Nikos, after all.) To engage one of them in combat is a privilege and she inclines her head, an obeisant gesture meant to indicate such.
And then, with a flick of her wrist, Miló and Akoúo̱ are in her hands. Deftly, she marks the hours with her steps, rounding her opponent. And then, for a first strike, she swings low and sure. ]
[ The thing is—this imposing, inhospitable world with its brainwashed denizens is so familiar to what Odin has grown up knowing of TITAN that he could almost joke, “Just like home.” But there’s little humor to be shared here, so the quip goes unsaid and unappreciated. Days pass, marked only by his continued lack of progress in gathering information. Eventually, he’s forced to put aside questions of his purpose in the city in order to focus on more pressing needs: Scavenging for supplies. That’s precisely what he’s doing when he notices a redheaded woman approaching; for a moment, his hand tightens protectively around the duffel bag he’s carrying, as if he expects her to try and take it. ]
Wh-what?
[ Wary, he eyes her in blank confusion before he registers the sensation of unfriendly stares boring into the back of his head. Understanding dawns, and he nods sharply to the young woman, shouldering the bag. ]
Uh, y-yeah. P-p-…probably for the b-best, anyway. Lead the w-way.
[As soon as Pyrrha took up her fighting stance, Kuai shifted into his fighting stance. His eyes just as cold and stony as his nickname implied. His motions were rigid and minimalistic. Once she struck, he lifted his leg just high enough to avoid the blow as icy daggers materialize in his hands, bringing both daggers thrusting downward in an overhead strike.]
She didn't, not really, but it's with flawless grace that she catches the volleyball and it's enough for Bokuto to freeze where he is, body leaning forward and one arm outstretched in warning, to gape at her like a bumbling idiot until she jogs closer in approach. It's only then that he's shaken out of stupor; snapping his jaw shut, he practically bounces into her personal bubble, eyes comically large and hands fisted near his chest in excitement.
It is exciting though. He's seen some amazing things both off and on the court, Hinata's lightning fast quick strike among them, and while catching balls is strictly illegal, he can appreciate athletic talent when he sees it.]
Whoa, that was amazing! What sport do you play? Basketball? [She's tall enough for basketball, that's for sure.]
but yeah that's about... all he's been able to find. he wants to be a better leader though, and a warrior, so of course he won't say that he actually doesn't have a clue what he's doing. the blonde turned to pyrrha suddenly, laughing nervously and scratching at the back of his head.]
Oh just uh... testing out... them 'ol tools...
[yup. he put the rock down now!!] Say uh Pyrrha... for these samples we have to find- um don't we have to be really quick about it? I mean, I know a lot of them just end up disappearing after you kill them so... yeah. Ehehe...
[he more so means she might have to be the quick one and get a sample before a grimm would disappear entirely. but then again.... professor port does have several grimm heads mounted on walls... how did he even manage that?!]
[ The smile she gives in response is encouraging, but rather understated. Born of politeness, not of anything genuine - she’s far more restrictive with people she doesn’t know well. Her hands remain in place, a twitch away from her weapons; his bag, whatever is in it, goes wholly ignored by Pyrrha. She isn’t about taking from others what they have worked for.
She starts to walk. It’s a slow walk, and could be mistaken for one of ease. It’s not. Very aware of the footsteps behind them, Pyrrha knows running only makes it worse here.
Conversation, when it comes, is awkward. She fumbles for words. ]
It’s a... —nice night, isn’t it?
[ An equally awkward smile, made more of plaster than warmth, to match her clumsy attempt at idle chat. ]
[ Smiling, she kneels down beside him. Her gaze drifts between his working hands and his crooked smile, paying polite attention to both in equal measure. Jaune’s question gets a gentle answer; in contrast to him, she’s learned on the subject matter and able to explain to him without hesitating. ]
Doctor Oobleck wants us to preserve the samples in saline.
[ Reaching into his box, she pulls out a small test tube labelled DENTAL. Giving it a tiny shake, the liquid inside bubbles. ]
That’s the only they’ll last long enough for his study.
[He takes the ball back out of reflex but his attention's still focused fully on her, especially now that she's admitted to having no idea what basketball is. He only gapes at her more for that.
????????
She clearly must be some sort of exchange student but from where. And he still wants to know what she plays.]
Then what sports do you play? What kind of exercises do you do?
[ She's a celebrity athlete with commercial endorsement deals, dude. However, as Pyrrha isn't the type to needlessly boast about her own accomplishments, she tries to frame her answer as modestly and mildly as possible. ]
I'm a Huntress-in-training. I find and defeat Grimm.
[ He fights with ice, she notes. Although having been denied the opportunity to research her opponent beforehand, Pyrrha is observant now. She’s studying the fluidity of his strikes, where his limbs are placed, searching for traces or flecks of metal in his equipment - all while refuting his strikes. Every one of her strikes and parries are graceful; to some, they could easily be confused for perfect. Pyrrha knows better, however. She’s constantly gauging her own performance, successes and fumbles alike.
Miló catches the daggers and a push is all that’s needed to send Kuai’s arms back. She presses the attack almost immediately. Moving like a whirlwind, in half a dance, she's pointedly denying him the opportunity to regroup. ]
[As soon as the shield pushes against the daggers they crumble and evaporate into the air, and with her counter, he brings his arms up to block, a protective layer of ice forming on his arms with jagged hooks forming in an attempt to catch the spear.]
Very impressive, Miss Nikos. It's rare to find someone this in tune with their aura at this young an age.
[As soon as she strikes, he forces one arm down while the other goes up in an attempt to knock her weapon out of her hand before sending a foot shooting outward at her shin with the intent of knocking it out from under her.]
[Huntress? Grimm?? Even if Bokuto were to have an above-average intelligence he wouldn't understand the meaning of those words, and so the way his forehead creases in puzzlement shouldn't come as any surprise. Definitely an exchange student then, though clearly he should've paid more attention in geography class if he can't place where she's from right now.]
What's a grimm? Is that some sort of ultimate opponent?
[ Him not knowing what Grimm are is strange to her, but Pyrrha is far too reserved to indicate it. Her brow remains unmarred, expression tepid. For a brief moment, almost unsettling, she’s reminded of Jaune and the ignorance of his early days. ]
They’re the soulless creatures who linger at the edge of the world.
[ Pulling out her scroll, she thumbs along the bottom of the touchscreen until she comes to a picture of a Nevermore, which she leans over to show him. ]
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