If It Be Thusly (Weiss Schnee x Reader)

The Girl Who's Nigh Perfect

Ahead is Calypso Combat School, about as old as it is prestigious. All of the city's most affluent and young Huntsmen and Huntresses have places here, and it has an intimate relationship with Atlas Academy, practically guaranteeing a spot there. Its entrance door is ancient and heavy, painted a bright red to stand out against the snow. Weiss barges inside, struggling to close it once it's open. The blizzard winds struggle against her, wailing and pushing like a lunatic. Once it's closed, she sighs in relief, unzipping her coat. The hall is mostly empty, bereft of students and staff. She knows where they'll be clotting though.

Her legs set out almost without her permission, and she marches toward the centre foyer of the school, where all the students are clamouring over a (Newly installed.) holographic board. Upon it is the very detail that could make or break a grade: your partner. It's going to be impossible to seep through the flock of students, so Weiss hangs on the periphery, like a fox amongst dogs.

"Good morning, Weiss." She spins around to face the voice, meeting it with a well-prepared smile. Elise de la Ivoire is one of Weiss' friends at the school, and the daughter of a Huntsman as famous as her own father. Like Weiss she wears the same crimson blazer and long, dark skirt.

"Elise, good to see you," Weiss recites, as they do every morning. Both were taught to act in perfect etiquette for the sake of their parent's public appearances. Elise nods, curling a lock of short, silver hair around her fingers. It contrasts quite well against her dark skin, unlike Weiss, who's entire body could be mistaken for a marble statue.

"Are you nervous?" She asks, looking slightly unsettled herself.

"Not at all," Weiss replies in equal parts confidence to arrogance. "My talent will amend whatever deficiencies my partner has."

"Mhm? Even if you get someone like Tyto?"

"Ugh," Weiss replies. "He should have been expelled years ago; he can hardly kill a Beowulf."

Elise giggles, gently swaying back on forth on the balls of her feet. "Yeah, probably. I hear his mother is an important officer in the army."

"Well, that just goes to show that skill is not inherited," Weiss replies indignantly. It's hypocritical of her to say that though, when her own semblance is inherited from her mother. Semblances are, for the uninitiated, reflections of your soul turned into a manifested action on the world. Someone who's exceptionally shy might be able to turn invisible, for instance.

As they talk to kill time, someone approaches from behind them, sneaking up like a serpent in human skin. His mouth turns to a crooked grin as he pounces, smacking the two on the back with a mock roar.

"Ah!" They both exclaim, backing away from him.

"Max!" Elise exclaims, playfully smacking his shoulder. Weiss just opts to scowl like a wolf. Maximilian Maroon is the last member of their little triad, and also the child of a prominent weapons manufacturing company. Weiss has known him since childhood, as their parents always seemed eager to have a lucrative arrangement between Schnee Dust Company and Maroon Industries. He looks more plain than the other two: slightly tan skin, brown hair cut very professionally and brown eyes. Plain but handsome in a clean, princely way.

"You two got your partners yet?" He asks.

"No. We're waiting for the rabble to leave," Weiss replies, looking over the horde of students.

"Ah. I see. No accounting for the unwashed masses, mhm?" He jokes, making the other two giggle. Weiss knows it's cruel, but sometimes you have to care more about fitting in than being moral or kind. That's her father's entire mindset when it comes to business, and as his successor it's imperative she follows the mould.