Arvo Attano, the son of Corvo Attano, was born in Vacuo, a rugged, sandy place, where the fight for survival against Grimm, was just as dangerous as the fight for resources...
Arvo became a street urchin, learning to haggle, steal, and evade the Cit...
As Arno rests his head on his trenchcoat, and drifts to sleep, he feels himself falling, his eyes widen quickly as he glances down, he's falling... Through the Void!
He yelps as he falls past the platform, suddenly stopping, he looks up, the Outsider has caught him by the wrist... Arno exhales heavily, "Thanks..."
The Outsider sets Arno onto the platform, then vanishes into shadows, appearing atop a elevated bit of the floor, sat atop it, "What do you know of Salem and Ozma, Arno?"
"The fairytale?" Arno sits on a elevated bit of floor across from the Outsider, "Ozma and Salem fell in love, Ozma died, Salem demanded he be brought back by the Brother Gods, Dark did so, but when he learned that Salem first went to Light, he cursed Salem, and killed all of humanity."
"Mhm, now, what if I told you it was far from a fairytale..." - TO.
"If you were normal, I'd call you insane... But seeing as you're far from normal..." The Outsider blinks, leaning on his knees, "If it's true... That means Salem and Ozma are... millennia old..."
"Close, very close, one can die, the other cannot." - TO.
"Which one?" - A.
"Ozma," The Outsider shifts a bit, leaning forward, "You see, the fairytale doesn't cover everything, after Ozma was taken from Salem the second time, she sought death, as if death could free her and reunite them..."
"I hear an 'unfortunately' coming up." - A.
"Very observant," The Outsider shifts his gaze to the side, a massive pool of black liquid appear, "Salem believed the only way to die was to submerge herself in complete darkness... Only when she did, she became worse."
The pool bubbles, a figure walks out of the black pool, the liquid dripping down her form, revealing pale white skin, black veins, hence blonde hair is snow white... "She's Grimm?"
"Yes and No," The Outsider looks to Arno, "Somewhere, deep in her cold heart, is a woman who is broken, not evil."
"Maybe after your initiation, you can ask Ozpin about her..." The Outsider smiles, "I'm sure he'll know something." Arno gasps as he sits up quickly, he's back in the ballroom, soon-to-be students sleep around him...
To his right, Jaune is sleeping on his chest, his knees tucked under him, he's drooling profusely and his hair is an utter mess...
To his left, Weiss is sleeping on her back, hands resting just on her stomach, even while sleeping, she manages to be the most bea-
Arno's face grows red, and he shakes his head, standing, he grabs his coat and slips it on, thanking the Outsider for being so light footed, he sneaks through the mass of sleeping students.
Remembering his locker number, 831, he opens his locker, grabbing his items, his sword, folded into the hilt, he flips it open, then flips it shut, hooking it to his belt, he grabs his folded crossbow, shoving it into his pocket, then he grabs his mask...
Staring into it's eyes, he can almost hear his father, "Chin up, I didn't get dragged through the mud, hold on to what I knew, only for you to be shot down by some bullies." Atleast that's what Arno thinks his father would say... Corvo was... Cryptic, to say the least, he cared, certainly, he just had a strange way of showing that he did.
Hooking it to his belt, he straps his coat shut, then looks down at his hand... The mark... He's not sure if anyone here knows who The Outsider is, but it's better than just waving it around.
Grabbing a black bandage from a bag in his locker, he begins to wrap his hand up, covering the mark with what little bandage he could.
Even as the bandage covers it, when he tightens his fist to test it, the mark glows through the cloth, "Well... It's something."
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As the mark stops glowing, Arno drops his hand to his side, staring into the locker for a second... "If you're right handed, shouldn't you be wrapping your right?" Arno yelps quietly, turning quickly, a fairly tall girl with red hair is stood nearby.
"Pyrrha?"
"Hello!"
She holds her arms out, Arno shrugs, accepting the hug, "How have you been? I haven't seen you since you won the tournament." Pyrrha and Arno have some familiarity with one another, as they were rivals during the Swordsmanship tournament, only Pyrrha struggled with a sword, which gave Arno the victory.
"Training, dad wants me to be a Protector like him." Arno steps back from the hug, hands to his sides.
"I could've figured as much, Attano is a famous name in lots of places." Pyrrha, motions to his wrapped hand.
"Ah... I-Uh... Burned myself accidentally, grabbed a pipe I shouldn't have while running the rooftops... You know how it is." Arno chuckles nervously, rubbing the nape of his neck.
"Silly boy," Pyrrha giggles, it makes Arno's stomach tighten, "Still trying to outrun your shadow..."
"Hey, I almost did that time... Well, before I burnt my hand and... uh... fell a few feet..." - A.
"A few?" - P.
"About fifty..." - A.
"Arno!" Pyrrha looks a little shocked.
"I know, I know! Father gave me an hour long lecture already, I don't need one from you." - A.
They share a laugh, "Well, I need to get my gear, I hope to see you in the forest, Arno."
"And you, Pyrrha." Arno bows a bit, then starts walking, leaving the locker room, grass crunching beneath his boots as he approaches the edge of the cliff overlooking Emerald Forest.
His heartbeat is intense when his eyes land where the ruins are supposedly at... The forest below, despite being so dense, from what he can see, is bright, sunlight streams down through the leaves easily...
"Perhaps you'd like to discuss it, instead of jumping?" Arno turns a bit, Ozpin is stood behind him, coffee mug in hand, cane in the other, "I know I would, I'd hate to lose a skilled student such as yourself."
"Very funny..." Arno grunts, "I don't have any questions, I'll just wait."
"Very well." - O.
Arno would have to wait to ask Ozpin about Salem, doing so now would raise suspicion, mostly because Salem isn't meant to be known at all... Thanks Outsider, for alerting him to a threat he cannot kill.
