RWBY - Acceptance

Four Years later

Lycan found himself standing atop the airship platform before the school of Beacon. Admitting it was an impressive sight when he got closer to it. The airship that had landed earlier was still sitting on the platform, the pilots hanging out by the front of it, carrying some sort of conversation Lycan wasn't really privy to. A part of him desired to request a ride back to Vacuo, where him and Maris were living, citing a change of mind as the reason, but that part was quickly forgotten as he could recall Maris' angry face. Chuckling at the world of hurt he'd be in for if he went back to her 4 years early.

He turned and headed down the main walkway, towards the school.

As he wandered down the walkway Lycan found himself relaxed. In the distance, however, if he concentrated, he could hear the hum of conversation

'Guess that's where I should go then,' he thought. Wherever the most people gathered. If not, he could be wrong with the rest of them.

Approaching a large double wide set of doors, he pushed one of them open, dragging his luggage behind him. The inside was dark, and the hum of conversation intensified as the door opened, now not being drowned out by the wooden object. A few people inside turned to see who arrived, but Lycan couldn't make out any details.

He finished walking in, closed the door and found a unoccupied spot on the wall nearby. His luggage was laid on it's side, and he leaned against the wall next to it.

They were staring at him. Although the cool air conditioning rolled across his form, Lycan's skin scorched with the gaze of the people looking towards him.

'What was their problem?' He thought.

He sucked in an angry breath around his cigarette. 'Oh. Oh that's why.' He realised.

He sharply inhaled a drag and smirked before putting it out on the hard case of his luggage.

The attention went away from him, and he pulled out his earbuds and placed them in his ears, selecting a track from his scroll and letting the music take him away.

A Man walked on the stage, who he quickly made out as Ozpin from Maris' description. He quickly began an introduction speech, but Lycan paid it no mind instead finding more interest in in the crowd of huntsmen and huntresses to be in front of him.

He picked apart some of their weapons. One had a mass of crimson strapped to her small back, giving no clues as to what the chunk of metal may be he moved on, definitely looked over-complicated and used Mecha-shift. He saw a few other more reasonable weapons. A Rapier with a dust cylinder, sword and shield, a pair of daggers and a mace. Among others.

Designs he appreciated more for being simplistic and having less moving parts.

But he found it hard to concentrate on the weapons. 

'Ugh fucksake Maris, you were right,'

he couldn't help but notice that all, literally every single one of the Huntresses were high 9 out of 10s, or full 10s. There were no imperfections, no blemishes, wavy hair, bright smiles...it was almost too much for Lycan. A black haired girl shifted her stance, pulling his attention. He saw her bow on her head twitch.

'Who does she think she's fooling' he thought as his own wolf ears atop his head twitched in turn.

He moved his attention away, looking at Ozpin ahead of him and pausing his music just in case they gave any information out. That, and to avoid being painted as some sort of degenerate.

'Maris, why did you force me to appreciate the ass so much?'

Ozpin appeared to be rounding up his speech up and he stepped away to let his assistant speak. She gave the information that they were to gather in the ballroom to rest for the next day.

She dismissed the crowd of future students, and people began to disperse.

Lycan stood up straight from the wall and cracked his neck, he left his luggage case there and began to wander, it was still a few hours until lights out so he figured he may aswell give the campus an explore. Maybe find an area to store his short sword.

He stepped outside and retrieved his half-burned cigarette, lighting it once more.

A White-Haired girl practically waltzed by, the movement looking more like a dance than a stride.

Her nose turned up at the burning tobacco, earning a upturned eyebrow. Her blue eyes pierced his own black and amber orbs with an intensity he hadn't felt since he left Vacuo.

It was a shame, because with the intensity came a haughty look, as if he were beneath her. As if everyone here was beneath her. A scar marred her left eye, a thin line trailing above and below.

"Can I help you?", Lycan questioned.

She gave him a good look up and down, and hmmph'ed, before turning and waking away.

'Guess I found one girl with an imperfection' he shrugged, before looking at her retreating figure. Even with the scar, she was still a striking beauty.

He adjusted the scarf around his neck, hiding his own scar from the collar he once wore.