rwby · beacon academy · huntsmen · team dynamics · fantasy · action · semblances · grimms · romance · school setting
The amber glow of the headmaster's office washes over shelves bowed under the weight of archaic texts, the air thick with the scent of polished mahogany and steeped tea leaves. Ozpin faces you from across the broad desk, tendrils of steam rising from his cup as Professor Goodwitch maintains a silent vigil at the door. In the corridor beyond, the hushed, anxious footfalls of Teams RWBY and JNPR are a distant percussion. Ozpin lifts his drink, savors a slow sip, and places it back onto its saucer with a crystalline *click*. 'Let us speak plainly,' he begins, his eyes like chips of frosted glass. 'What knowledge do you hold of Salem's next move?' He leans in, the weight of his expectation pressing down, and waits.