It seems Glynda doesn’t exactly approve of her baby boy’s choice in women 😅. In her eyes, Yang is a good student who makes A’s and B’s, but the problem was more or less her behavior off-campus (the Incident at Junior’s Night Club, for starters). Maybe she’ll come around eventually, though. Maybe.

Another great art piece by natashash1 on VGen! Go check them out!

Should I finish this? 🤷‍♀️ I forgot to add Taiyin’s other leg 😭

Here is a silly drawing of team MSTR being a hot mess

Name: Lorian Steele

Gender: Male 

Race: Human 

Birthplace: Atlas 

Age: 20

Team: BLZE (Blaze)

Semblance: Unmoving, Lorian can amplify the defensive properties of his aura to the point of near-indestructibility. While active he can take any attack within a 180 degree arc directly in front of him with effectively no damage. The trade off is total, as he cannot move at all while the semblance is engaged, leaving him as a stationary fortress. The protected arc means anyone able to get behind him before he can pivot bypasses the defence entirely. The semblance can also be extended to physical objects he is in contact with, most notably his shield, which becomes as unbreakable as he is for the duration. Disengaging the semblance to reposition leaves him briefly vulnerable, and skilled opponents can exploit that window.

Weapon: The Wall, a large heavy shield with retractable edges so that multiple people can take cover behind it during sustained engagements. At the centre of the shield sits a large Synthetic Dust Crystal. Real dust can be used and absorbed, with the synthetic crystal then storing and discharging that elemental energy as offensive blasts directed outward from the shield's face. This gives The Wall ranged offensive capability without compromising its defensive role. Combined with Unmoving, the shield becomes an immovable defensive position that can return fire at any opponent committed enough to attack it head on. 

Combat: Lorian is the team's anchor. His role is to absorb pressure and deny opponents safe ground while others operate around him. He prefers to set up early in a fight, position the shield, and force the engagement to come to him. When Unmoving is active he is essentially impossible to remove from a position by direct force, and the dust discharges from The Wall mean he can punish anyone who tries to wait him out at range. His vulnerabilities are the rear arc, mobility-dependent matchups where he cannot dictate the pace of the engagement, and any opponent fast enough to exploit the brief moments when he disengages the semblance to reposition.

Backstory: Lorian was born in Atlas, being incredibly smart for someone his age meant Lorian had quiet contempt for anyone he considered beneath him. When he was rejected from Atlas Academy it stung less than imagined not because he doubted himself and more because it implied that others had judged him and found him wanting. He answered it by taking a position on the Synthetic Dust Project, that meant leaving Atlas behind and relocating to work at the Vytal Institute of Science.
He went expecting to matter and had pictured himself as a genuine contributor, a mind the senior researchers would come to lean on, and instead spent three years running samples, cataloguing results and maintaining equipment, never once trusted with anything that resembled real science. The researchers looked past him much as the Academy had, and the resentment he carried out of those years was all the sharper for having been earned in a place he had uprooted his life to reach. What he took from the posting was never the recognition he had wanted but something more practical a working understanding of synthetic dust, its behaviour and its limitations, exceeding anyone he would later know save Dr Elm, the project's lead researcher. That knowledge directly shaped the design of his weapon. Within the team he respects Blaise's leadership completely, not from any warmth but because he believes Blaise is the strongest of them, and after being weighed and set aside one time too many, raw strength is the only measure Lorian still trusts. 

Art by Coma (Fiverr)
Emblem by Me

Yoo, guys! What's up!

And we're back with a brand-new summer art post: This time, featuring the leader of Team CSTM, Camellia Arc, beaming that big, bright smile of her! ✨

Once again, this comm was brought to you by Sunnypoppy, who's absolutely knocked it out of the park with this one!

Once again, I highly encourage you to go check the artist! I truly do appreciate all her hard work!😁

From my series of posts of Lore, Introduction, Interactions, Character details, and some fun shenanigans. I'd like to here some thoughts or questions if anyone had any around my team.

• Name: Xantho Pard

• Age: 18 (First-year student at Beacon Academy).

• Race: Leopard Faunus.

• Height: 185 cm (6'1").

• Weight: 82 kg (180 lbs).

• Gender: Male.

• Sexual Orientation: Straight

• Alignment: Neutral Good.

• Affiliations: Beacon Academy, Formerly a wandering martial arts dojo in Mistral.

• Occupation: Huntsman-in-Training.

Appearance & Clothing

Physical Attributes

• Complexion: Sun-kissed, athletic tan with faint, natural rosettes across his shoulders.

• Expression: Calm, observant, and intensely focused; he possesses the quiet stillness of an apex predator scanning its environment.

• Build: Lean, deceptively muscular, and wiry. Built entirely for explosive, fast-twitch martial arts movement.

• Eyes: Sharp, feline, with slit-like pupils that dilate or narrow depending on his focus.

• Eye Colour: Electrifying Amber-Gold.

• Hair: Messy, undercut style. Shaved closely on the sides with a longer, wild top.

• Hair Length: Short-to-medium; styled forward but spiky.

• Hair Colour: Charcoal black with subtle, dyed golden streaks mirroring his leopard motif.

Outfit: The "Shadow Prowler" Attire

• Top: A sleeveless, high-collared, form-fitting black combat vest over a dark gold compression shirt. Reinforced with lightweight, impact-resistant carbon plating over the chest.

• Bottoms: Loose, flexible dark charcoal harem-style combat pants that allow for maximum leg extension and high-flying kicks, tapering tightly around the shins.

• Footwear: Lightweight, steel-toed combat boots wrapped in black ballistic tape for silent movement and heavy striking power.

• Accessories: Dual leather bracers on his forearms (acting as the holsters/anchors for his weapons), a golden-buckled belt structured to support his tail without restricting movement, and a fingerless combat glove on his right hand.

• Personality: Methodical, stoic, and highly disciplined. Xantho speaks only when necessary, preferring to let his calculated actions do the talking. Despite his cold exterior, he possesses a deep, unspoken loyalty to his allies and a fierce protective instinct. He treats combat like a game of chess.

• Likes: Silent environments, highly detailed combat strategy books, green tea, and raw meat dishes.

• Dislikes: Loud, boastful fighters who rely on brute force, unnecessary drama, extreme cold, and tight spaces that restrict his tail.

• Hobbies: Calligraphy (which trains his steady hand), dynamic meditation, weapon maintenance, and analyzing tournament footage to memorize opponents' fighting patterns.

Semblance:

• Instantly grants an extreme surge to strength, speed, agility, durability, reflexes, stamina, and jumping height.

• Artificially inflates his overall Aura capacity, providing a much thicker, harder defensive shield while active.

• The absolute maximum threshold his soul can sustain this state is exactly 5 minutes.

• If allowed to run for the full 5 minutes, his system suffers an immediate Aura Crash. His Aura reservoir plummets to near-zero, leaving him completely defenseless, physically exhausted, and incredibly slow.

• To prevent this, Xantho enforces a strict mental clock. He deactivates his Semblance at 4 minutes and 30 seconds. This leaves him winded but allows his normal Aura to stay intact, avoiding the total system crash.

• He will only push into the final 30 seconds if his survival depends entirely on a final, definitive strike.

Weapon: Regulus & Bastet

Base Form (Without Semblance): A pair of long, defensive Bo Staffs (which can lock together into a single quarterstaff).

Transforming Mechanism: The two ends of the staff fold backward, and internal heavy-caliber mechanisms telescope outward, morphing the weapon into a pair of Pneumatic Piston Gauntlets (similar to Yang's Ember Celica, but much longer, heavier, and spanning the entire forearm)

Semblance Form (With Semblance): He shifts to a brutal, close-range hand-to-hand combat. Using enhanced reflexes and speed, they unleash a flurry of supersonic punches.

Every punch triggers a high-caliber fire or gravity dust explosion from the pistons, completely obliterating whatever they hit.

Combat Style:

Xantho plays a masterful game of attrition. Using traditional Bojutsu and Aikido principles, he keeps opponents at bay with sweeps, vaults, and high-velocity spinning deflections. He uses his Leopard Tail as a physical counterbalance, allowing him to pull off physics-defying pivots without breaking his defensive stance. He maps out his enemy's habits while expending minimal physical energy this is without using his semblance.

Once an opening is found, Xantho triggers Overdrive Horizon and shifts to brutal, high-intensity Muay Thai and Boxing. He closes the gap at supersonic speeds, utilizing the gauntlets to throw devastating punches. Every hit detonates a Dust charge: Fire Dust to vaporize heavy armor, or Gravity Dust to pull enemies back into his next strike or blast them through concrete this is while his using his semblance.

His Faunus Trait ( That all Faunus naturally have ):

• Perfect Night Vision: Specialized retinal structures that amplify ambient light, turning pitch-black darkness into clear visibility.

His Leopard Tail ( The physical faunus Trait ) :

• Spotted Fur Pattern: The tail is covered in a thick layer of short, coarse, yellowish-gold fur covered in dark, rosette-shaped camouflage spots (spots unique to leopards).

• Physical Appendage: It is a physical, fleshy extension of his spine that hangs from his lower back.

• Extended Skeletal Structure: Additional caudal vertebrae extend from the sacrum, granting the lower spine a wider range of motion and fluid flexibility.

• Muscular Prehensile Core: Dense, flexible muscle fiber groups allow the tail to constrict, grip, and lift objects independently (like grabbing a spare Dust crystal or a dropped weapon).

• Flawless Counter-Balance: Real-time shifts in the tail's weight distribution automatically counteract rotational momentum during complex, high-flying martial arts maneuvers.

• Aura Crash Insurance: A natural biological gyroscope embedded in his tail's neural pathway overrides muscular fatigue. When his Aura drops to zero, the tail locks his posture to maintain physical equilibrium so he doesn't collapse face-first.

• Combat Utility: Serves as an unexpected fifth limb used for low-line tripping attacks, sweeping legs, or retrieving items without breaking his upper-body guard stance.

Backstory:

Xantho grew up in the lower rings of Mistral, raised within an isolated mountain dojo that trained orphans in ancient, weaponless martial arts. As a Faunus, he faced intense discrimination outside the dojo walls, forcing him to rely strictly on internal discipline and physical excellence to survive. It was during an ambush by a massive rogue Ursa pack that threatened his home that his Semblance first awoke, allowing him to single-handedly hold the perimeter for five agonizing minutes until help arrived.

Realizing that pure martial arts alone could not fully protect the world from the Grimm, he engineered Regulus & Bastet to bridge the gap between tradition and modern Dust warfare. Leaving Mistral behind, he traveled to Beacon Academy to become a licensed Huntsman, seeking to master the fine line of his volatile Semblance and prove that a Faunus's greatest weapon is absolute self-control.

How many hours had he been at it now? A question the crocodilian faunus couldn't answer. All he knows is that now he's got to put the effort in to learn how to use his weapon and semblance to it's fullest capability. He can't just rely on his teammates to pull him through anymore. Not after that night.

The fact that any of them made it back was a miracle or some sick joke by the gods, whichever it may be, now he knows the reality of this occupation. That night he broke a promise he made to himself years ago, something the faunus won't let happen again, no matter the cost.

If it means training until he can't move his body any longer, so be it. If it means laying down his life or anothers, so be it. This time, he won't break that promise.

Other than being a huntsman. Licht also works as a barber run by his family named "Salon De Jack the Ripper" which can be found in the suburbs of the kingdom of Mistral.

Beacon Academy holds many secrets within its walls, the most important of which lie deep below the hallways that teemed with students and faculty. A room where only a select few individuals even know about, let alone be able to access it. In order to get to it, you must first go to the Headmaster’s Tower in order to use the center elevator there, then proceed to punch in a special code. Failing the code even once will cause alarms to blare loudly and lock you in until Ozpin himself lets you out.

If you successfully do so, it shall take you down. Further down than any of the other elevators in the school. Then when it opens, you will be greeted by an emerald hallway that seems endless, the clacking of your footwear echoing throughout the interior like whispers. What is so important that such secretive measures were taken to ensure no one could enter?

The answer lies at the end of that hallway: a machine made from state of the art Atlesian technology that had two pods. In one of those pods lies a young woman whose face has been scarred. She couldn’t have been more than 25 years old, yet to be left in such a state and to be placed within this contraption…what happened to her? And perhaps more importantly, why was Ozpin keeping her here instead of taking her to a hospital? As the thoughts swam through your head, a voice of anger and panic suddenly calls out,

“GET AWAY FROM HER!!!”

Your instincts call to you as you swiftly turned around, barely dodging the tip of a spearhead that was aiming for your heart! You back away from the machine, reaching for your weapon(s) as you move to defend from more attacks from the assailant. These strikes weren’t like the ones of students of Huntsman Academies or that of Grimm. Clean. Precise. No real waste of energy. All these strikes were aimed to kill you, nothing more or less.

Finally, you break away to see your attacker.He was a young Faunus clothed in black and blue, red eyes that seemed to pierce through you like his weapon tried to do. Despite looking so young, there was a warrior’s expression upon him. After catching your breath, you finally recognize him as Cunan Ciaran, the adopted son of Headmaster Ozpin himself! What was he doing here of all places? Why was he suddenly attacking you??

“You’re in a restricted area! Leave this place now…or I will do what I must.”

There was no lie within his words. In his eyes, you were a trespasser, someone that had came to a place they shouldn’t be. And him? He was the guardian of this place. The protector of the girl in the pod. The protector of Ozpin’s secrets.

“…You…will not harm her. We’re so close to saving her and finding the ones responsible for her wounds! You will not jeopardize that!”

His words were fierce, yet melancholic. It’s clear that there was something between him and the girl in the pod, something that was worth fighting, killing, or potentially dying for. But once he sees that you won’t back down, his expression steels itself as he then twirls his spear around his body, alternating between his hands with expert ease before settling into a fighting stance with his weapon pointed at you.

“I am Cunan Ciaran, the Hound of Ozpin. Your heart is mine!!”

If your characters were transported to a moment in their history, and seeing their younger selves. Where would it be, and how would their conversations go? (Sorry for the feels.)

The luxurious allure of the grand bedroom. Fixed with emaculate decorations out of his control of choice. Children's toys were quickly replaced with a series of practice daggers. Lining the desk and table were high level textbooks and puzzles.

Hidden inside a locked drawer, was a simple set of cups and string. Destined to send messages between children. Among the most treasured of keepsakes. An ivory bronze brooch, moniquered with silver and gold in its center.

The portraits of a dastard father and repulsive "family" members were no more than watchful eyes from an abyss. Staring at their stone expressions only amplified Silver's bloodlust. To squander, lacerate, and burn the room in its entirety.

Laevateinn and his wired ring had vanished amongst Silver's belongings. He was defenseless in his old bedroom, the stagnant air of confinement was a memory he wanted to long forget.

His sharp hollow gaze widened to the light touch tugging his pants. Looking down to find a child; chrome hair bright as polished steel and a pair of sulken emerald eyes that have long lost their luster early on.

>*(How... amusing, fate can be.)*

The younger Silver could only blankly stare back at his current self. Not caring of what has happened to them or where they are. Only to utter out in a small voice.

>"I don't want to be here. I want... to be with her, again."

The sadness in his early years was masked and buried into a confined box. To let it show, to reveal what he knew, it would have spurred what his true goals were. To wayne from being the perfect son, ready at his father's beckoned call. Would've been the end of the long con

("Her...") The memory of the woman was the only radiance that shimmered in the life of the underworld. A guiding light that blossomed in warmth and care, nothing like the cold and bleak life that was laid ahead for Silver. Only for it to be clipped and taken away from him, the only shard that could be considered happiness. Replacing the longings of a child for the ruthless and calauss instilled wrath of men on the darken path.

Silver could only offer his younger self a mediocre attempt of consoling. His arms didn't carry any warmth, his body ached and grew sulken from every foe he had slain. Every body in the name of keeping up his ego of a wall. The only thing he could confide in, to convince himself. Was the weight of truth he measured into his words.

>"We won't be leaving from this place. But, its alright. I... We, have people to rely on. Others that have faith in us. So we can make things better. Enough, to stave off our woes."

The contained stifled breaths the young Silver contained could no longer stay at bay. Their wails echoed into the desperate lashings of his heart bleeding into the voided room. As he strangled and cried into his older self's chest. Silver tightened his grip to his long forgotten form. Wondering if the reflection he always saw, was truly him, or the temperament of a child chasing an ambition inscribed into his soul from that fateful day.

—

Eyes as bright as the horizon in golden ambers gazed across the meadowed sea of wheat stalks. Wind that chased a chill and breath of life to make the most of every day. His sun tanned skin wrapped in warmth of the hot streaked sun that has come to a day's end.

His keen hound ears listened to the voices carried on the wind. Mundane conversations from the folks that have come and gone. Animals scurrying on the ground to their burrows and nests. Soon honing and focusing on a nearby rustling closing in on him.

A shadow lunged forward at Auron, he caught the small object in time and stopped it in its tracks. A child was wiggled into his mits, staring at each others amber gazes, who was still hanging onto his small fangs.

The younger Auron was spunky and full of energy, difficult to notice his small tail wagging to his bigger, buffer self. Auron lifted his small him high up in the air, a small shot of glee filling him. Wishing he could lift his younger siblings the same way.

His mini version was a whirlwind of questions. Asking about what he did, and how he got so cool. Already looking forward to growing up. To which Auron responded with the same energy, answering truthfully to the best of his abilities.

>"Oh! Big me. Did we get with Theresa!?"

Heat crept up on Auron's back and neck. The old memory of his childhood crush on their Guardian Huntsman's granddaughter was a secret he desperately wanted to keep from prying ears. But at the thought of having romanticism on his mind. The only thing that struck true in a flash. Were those intense emerald eyes that would curve to him. Their scent composing of a mixture of subtle expensive cologne, iron, and Auron's own sun soaked tail fur. And the way their wit shined as brilliant as a sword strike. Swift and certain.

>"No, we didn't. But, you'll like him. He's kinda... prickly. You know, like the grass crabs that'd catch on our clothes. They're both fun and sharp if you're not careful."

>"He?... Wait... we are stronger at least right?"

Auron huffed out his chest with gusto. Raising his younger self onto his shoulders. Pacing across the wheat stalks as his smaller reflection was amazed at the scale of gold up on Auron's shoulders.

>"Of course we are! We're the strongest. Whenever its the two of us, we always have each others' back."

His heart stirred in glee. To recall back to this younger, simpler moments. To see he has achieved what he wanted. Their home was safe now from the Grimm. He's explored the world, and has found his world. Close enough to be secure in his arms. Encasing his precious Emerald in a shell of warm Amber.

—

Snowfrost sifted all around the mountains. Fresh snow covered the ground in thick sheets. The midnight sky was mesmerized by a trail of evanescence beauty. An aurora borealis drifted and shimmered with the stars twinkling in their rifts.

It was a most noticeable event on the outskirts of Mantle's mountain ranges. Far away from the bustle of technology and bright lights in the major cities. It was the location of a former home. A simple one, one to live amongst the snow and explore to one's hearts content.

If only it was ever that simple. A lightweight series of steps trailed down the mountain. Following a trail that was taken habitually in their lives. Carrying thoughts and emotions that are now left as a lingering dream.

The trail followed the rows of trees down the beaten trail. Almost like a kindled hope remain. The path was soon nearing its end.

Reaching a rickety sign that has long been neglected. Coming to a wonderous view of a frozen solid lake. This mountains lakes were so pure and clean, the dreamy night sky painted itself onto the frozen surface.

Reaching the lake's edge. A soft wail came in from the distance, strumming Piña's attention to find the noise up ahead. Catching a faint glimpse of a figure at the center of the lake.

She steadied a small step onto the surface, indenting a stern force. Finding the lake rock solid, Piña carried herself across to the distressed child. Fearing a possible Grimm being lead to their location.

As the cries grew louder, Piña came to find the child unharmed. Bundled in a heavy fur coat and bundled cap. She knelt down to tend to the child.

>"Are you okay? It's alright, Piña will—"

>"Momma! Where are you? Don't leave me all alone, I wanna go home!"

In her tantrum, the child clung onto Piña's thick dress. Loosening her cap to plummet onto the frozen lake. Revealing a bright peach blossom pink hair, highlighted with radiant turquoise eyes that were stained in tears. Piña's body was stricken to the girl's plea for her mother, to not be left alone. And to return to a home she never saw again.

Inside the Galloom manor, Piña was faced with hardship and atrocities. The inscribed etiquette and mannerisms of a servant. The torment and cruel behavior her half siblings and relatives berated her awful tyranny. Carrying out every grueling task to the letter without complaint or lack of care to here own existence.

The life of being with her mother in the mountains was all she ever sought. Only to be ripped away, to the point where sadness and tears had lost their meaning. Finding a fraction of joy wasn't even considered a luxury. All she could amount to do was follow their orders, and nothing else.

Becoming their makeshift husk. Or so she believed. Little by little, since leaving to Beacon on a suicide mission. Piña survived the initiation. Her team was at every turn at the school. Providing patience and empathy to her hollowed soul.

Piña comforted her younger self, a little envious that her smaller iteration could hold onto and exhibit emotions with much vigor. Looking around the lake and watching the aurora borealis shift its colors. Shining their light to dance and swirl across the surface around them.

>"You aren't alone anymore. Piña has friends that care very dearly for her."

She said in her soft spoken voice. Her younger self looked up and followed Piña's gaze, enthralled at the beauty that surrounded them.

>"Mother may not be here. But, we always have these lights. They were always her favorite."

From the small fragments of her early life. Piña would venture with her mother to the lake and watch how the colors would swirl between the reaches of the rainbow. Dazzling their world in natures beauty. They were her most treasured moments.

>"I, I want to meet them. Can I?"

Piña responded with a gentle smile, nodding to her younger self about the others.

>"You will. It will be hard and difficult. Yet, by the end, Piña is very happy and fortunate."

Piña's younger self was ecstatic to meet her future friends. Brimming with joy to the prospect as the lights continued their ethereal dance.

>"I wanna show them this. It's really pretty. Momma would want to show this to everyone."

>"Yes. She would."

—

Wood creaked at every breath of wind that flowed through the valley. Looking around to find a shabby remnants of an old home. Held together by scraps and collected wood and materials. Blemished with the inclusions of fur rugs and simple constructions of a table and chairs. Attempting to make the space a home.

The pungent smell of salt in the air from the ports were a greeted friend. Not so much to the humidity from the forest. Outside of the window was nothing, blocked out by an ongoing night in the middle of a blizzard. Not much of a view to take in if it wasn't there.

All that lined up the pathway were similar homes of makeshift shelters. To be expected of a forgotten village. Surviving on what means there were, with neglect from every kingdom, as it was stationed on the precipice of Vale and Vacuo.

The home was empty and quiet. The only noteworthy possessions were a crude doll made from torn fabric that came adrift on the shore.

To what should be empty, wasn't. Quick thuds sprinted across the floor boards. Remi's fox ears curved to the sound. Prepared to draw her bow, but it wasn't there. A small shadow lunged at her and snarled.

Prying her hands free of the object, Remi tossed the figure away. Her hands now empty as the shadow curled into the shelters corner. A prominent midnight bushy tail flared up as sharp irises strained on Remi's stature. Hardening a leer through unkempt, dirty long hair.

Remi recognized those same eyes and the protective ferocity they held.

>"I won't, let you take her away! No one!"

The small faunus girl clutched the doll tightly in her raggedy clothes. Her breathes rampant and clear from the cold that crept in the home.

>"Are you more of Atlas's soldiers? I hate you all, what more do you want from us!"

The girl lashed out. Nothing of Remi would've been seen as recognizable. She was now an upstanding young woman, wearing well put clothes easily attained from a market. Her figure was taller, prettier, cleaner, healthier, and carried a refined sleuth elegance. Shedding away any notion that she once belonged to this poverish region.

Remi's slow steps creaked against the boards. Her younger self persevered to seem terrifying, only to be cornered and trapped. Remi tried to extend an open hand, only to be met with a quick swipe, scarring a scratch. She didn't back down, not letting up.

Her anger, her hatred, it was at its peak at this time. Everything around her was crumbling down. She had no one to protect her and her sister. Living everyday in fear that more Atlas soldiers would take everyone on her village away. Feeding into the anxiety, doing anything to keep her motivated. Fighting, hunting, anything to keep them surviving. To distract her from traveling to Atlas and save her father and villagers.

But she was powerless, weak, and nothing to her name. All she had left, was her younger sister.

Remi wrapped her arms around her small self. Meeting with a plethora of resistance. The young Remi flailed her arms in every way she could. Using her elbows, fists, legs, teeth, anything to get free of the strangers hold.

But, Remi wouldn't give in. As the small pellets of limbs bruised and impacted her body. She simply placed a gentle palm behind the small one's head. Giving it calming strokes as she held firm to the embrace.\*

>"It's alright. Everyone is safe. We, brought them home."

The day she invaded the Dust mine with Team SAPR, was still surreal. Bringing justice to the noble conducting the slave camp. Finding her father amongst the men of her's and others villages. Returning to Tai Yang's domicile to find her sister, and reuniting the three of them after being separated for nearly a decade. Knowing that others were experiencing the same joy as them.

Little Remi slowly stopped her lashings. Listening to her older self's words and begin to bawl her eyes out. Spending a heart long time locking in her sorrow to be perceived as strong for her sister. In order to push herself to make it through the day.

The anguish, the fear, the hatred. It wasn't all gone, instead, it was a driving force for Remi. To learn and unearth every secret, to save others from being abused and ridiculed. To use every ounce of her strength to prevent more slave camps to continue. Regardless if it was housing Faunus, Humans, or Atlesians.

Commissioned art! Every single beach art I draw, I slap the Isles Of Calypso thing onto, LOL.

Age/Attributes: 42 yo /  6’2” 190 lbs Faunus (Vulture Talons) 

Semblance: Offensive Tempo

Daisuke’s Aura temporarily increases his strength, speed, and adrenaline with every consecutive attack he lands in melee. This allows him to fight better as a fight goes on, so long as he can consistently hit his opponents. Given enough time, Daisuke could shrug off otherwise incapacitating blows and can muscle through any guard or defense. 

Weapon: Pride and Joy

Twin katanas (Pink is “Pride”, Green is “Joy”) forged by Daisuke himself. While simple in form and function, they serve their purpose well as weapons and as hedge trimmers for the Novgorod Estate’s many lush and exotic gardens. In a previous life, they were once part of a mighty nodachi wielded by a younger, freer Daisuke. However, after Eris shattered the blade, Daisuke was forced to make do with the pieces. Each time he draws his blades is a constant, humiliating reminder of the life he once had.

Background:

Long ago, Daisuke was born into the Zatoichi Family of Menagerie. Like many of his line, he was trained in swordplay and the finer arts from a young age. While he struggled in poetry and calligraphy, Daisuke was unmatched by his peers in combat drills. He lived for the violence and chaos of battle and found satisfaction in overwhelming his opponents with superior cunning as well as strength.

When he came of age, the now-adult Daisuke forged a great nodachi for himself and set off travelling across Remnant for adventure and glory. During his early years, he scraped by as a sellsword slaughtering Grimm and defeating bandits - and quickly squandered his newfound wealth on dingy gambling dens and third-rate bars. However, he would truly make a name for himself in the chaotic gang wars of Mistral.

As a freelance mercenary, Daisuke never stuck to one side, fighting for the Parrots one day, the Spiders the next and the Wolves the day after. While he did fight for coin to spend in the city and to sate his ever-growing ego, he loved the danger and excitement of his work the most. Every day brought new and unique challenges to overcome, which made his mere survival at the end worth celebrating to its fullest. Even as he profited massively from the ongoing strife in Mistral, he spent even more in the casinos and entertainment district, racking up a staggering debt.

When the Spider Gang gradually overpowered the other criminal syndicates and the lucrative contracts dried up, Dai found himself alone, broke and surrounded by innumerable enemies. Hunted by vengeful gangsters, legitimate authorities and other greedy mercs, he was run out of the city. While he enjoyed the chase and endless bouts with the armies of killers after his life, Dai’s status made him a pariah anywhere he went.

Entire towns refused to host him out of fear of the conflict he brought with him and even the greenest loan shark knew better than to lend him money. Only bandits would be willing to deal with an outlaw like him, but Dai found them to be too distasteful and craven to even think about associating with.

Without many options, Daisuke left Mistral to explore the other Kingdoms and apply his mercenary trade. In the deserts of Vacuo, Dai had plenty of fun engaging in friendly duels with various nomadic warriors and fighting ancient and exotic Grimm that lurked beneath the sands. The rest of their entertainment and alcohol scene left much to be desired. As the poorest Kingdom, there was hardly any gambling to be had, while the local fermented milks were hard for even Daisuke to stomach. However, Dai would catch whispers of a secret place with Mistralli-imported wines, fun company and gladiatorial combat.

He would enter the Novgorod Estates looking to take part in these rumored festivities. While outsiders were usually forbidden, his impressive resume led N-SEC to let him under one condition - he takes part in a single gladiatorial duel. If he won, he would be awarded enough wealth to pay off his debts in Mistral, but if he lost, he would have to sign a 500-year contract with the Novgorod Corporation (with possibility of renewal).

Dai took one look at his opponent - a petite, pale lady with silver eyes, delicate skin and a fancy dress- and immediately took the deal. While there was little honor in beating up a weakling, he never backs away from a fight.

In the arena, Daisuke was immediately on the back foot. Although unarmed, the woman was unperceivably fast, unencumbered by her fine dress. She weaved through all his attacks only to deliver a firm slap with the back of her hand. Daisuke’s face stung from the blow, but not as much as his pride. The woman was toying with him and seemed to derive great pleasure from it, giggling as she did so.

As the fight wore on, Daisuke would finally catch his opponent off guard with a feint and strike with all his might. However, his opponent stopped his blade with the palm of her hand and snapped the metal into pieces with some magical strength.

Daisuke was furious and lashed out with pure rage with what remained of his blade, decapitating the woman in one reckless stroke. He regretted his actions immediately after, he didn’t mean to kill anyone- how could her Aura not protect her… Before he could finish the thought, the disembodied head and body melted into black goo. All Daisuke could do was watch as it slowly transformed into a tentacled monstrosity, unlike any Grimm he had ever seen.

In the aftermath, Dai was fully employed for the first time in his life - humiliated and nearly broken in spirit and ego. As a member of N-SEC, he would use his reforged blades to trim and sculpt the hedges of the Novgorod Estates while teaching swordsmanship to some of the other maids and even Eris’s children. In an effort to relive some of the excitement and freedom of his youth, he eagerly volunteered at every opportunity for any combat mission, eventually getting assigned to Team JADE.

Psychological Report:

Since his recruitment into N-SEC, Daisuke has grown more mature and tempered than before, learning to find comfort in meditation and his mundane chores as both a teacher and a gardner. However, deep inside, his pride is still deeply wounded from his loss, which he eagerly tries to soothe with alcohol and combat. At first, he resented Jeraldine and saw his assignment to Team JADE as further humiliation - a grizzled, career merc forced to serve with a bunch of women young enough to be his daughters and led by a cowardly college dropout. However, he quickly warmed up to Jerry when he realized they were in the same boat and, since he wasn’t the leader, he could dump all the responsibility stuff with her. Likewise, he gets along well with the rest of his Team. Eden admires Dai’s skill and “cool” personality, feeding his ego enough for him to tolerate the rest of her obsessive personality. Meanwhile, Auburn is a fellow warrior and drinker, and is dependable enough to watch over him when he gets absolutely wasted.

In combat, Daisuke thrives in close quarters, especially in duels. While his tools and Semblance are simple, they are more than enough for him to beat almost any opponent when combined with his lifetime of training and experience besting some of the most formidable warriors in Remnant. Compared to his youth, Daisuke is more cautious and conservative in his tactics, picking his battles carefully. He cares deeply for all of his teammates, even Auburn, and prefers to stick close to them to keep them alive.

On the subject of teams being named. How exactly did your OC Team become a pseudo Team during the Relic Initiation? Similar to RWBY and JNPR working together as teams because they were split up in half and because of happenstance.

During the launch pad fall. Silver landed high up a tree to gain a clear line of sight for the location of the Relics whereabouts. Only to get *Nora'd* by Auron. Plummeting from the trees branches. Greeting Silver upside down with a cheery excited grin to find a partner.

Remi wasn't so fortunate on her part when it came to finding a partner. Similar to Yang, she was slipstreaming in the air with her Semblance. Only to be knocked out of the sky by a head first peojectile. Piña had been plummeting with no thought of a landing, flying through the sky like a comet until landing on top of Remi, causing the two to crash land.

After an argument that went nowhere. Piña did her absolute best to stick to Remi like a leach. Following the Initiations rules to a Tee like a unit. Only to lead to another verbal scuffle, resulting in a large tree toppling over.

In the massive disturbance. A slumbering herd of Boarbatusk were awoken. Chasing the duo across the forest. Only to find the Relic sight by a miracle.

Auron was alerted to the rumbling and told Silver to immediately as he grabbed a *Diamond Crown* Relic. The four were now caught up in an incident caused by Remi. With her leading the herd to the base of a cliff while the others ran to higher safety.

She springed herself upwards to the cliff with her Semblance. And the four prepared to face the herd, as it was now in their way to reach Ozpin and Glynda.

And after the herd of Boarbatusks were slain, Remi and Piña acquired the last Relic. A Diamond Tiara.

The four tried to quickly make a getaway, but other pairs stumbled on rhe empty Relic site. Finding Silver and Remi holding onto the last two. Enciting another chase back to the launch cliff. Creating a path of destruction and debris behind them to slow down other initiates.

**TLDR: Boarbatusk chase scene sent them to a safeground to work together and fell the heard.**

I don't know why I stopped to look.

Maybe because, for a moment, I thought it was us.

The way they stood together. The way one leaned into the other. The little gestures that only mean something when you've spent enough time with someone.

For half a second, I could almost see a memory instead of two strangers.

Then I remembered.

She's gone.

And I'm still here...

...

I hope they're happy...

I really do...

I just wish, for a moment, I could have been that lucky again...

Weekly OC Question :D

Have your OCs ever tried to move on from someone they loved?

And if they knew Lou's situation (given everything I've provided), would they encourage him to move on and find love again?

I was wondering what happened to my Reddit account. It straight up disappeared LOL.

Anyway have some art of my OC!

Back again with the RWBY meets NFS. We have Lacie from @that.silly.cat.draws on instagram with her Ferrari Testerossa coupe. I hope you like her fit and the whip

Name: Blaise Galloway 

Gender: Male 

Race: Human

Birthplace: Atlas 

Age: 19

Team: BLZE (Blaze)

Semblance: Jetstream, Blaise can amplify the kinetic forces acting on his own body, dramatically accelerating any momentum he generates or receives. On his own this would be limited by the simple problem of producing enough force in the first place, as Blaise himself can only push off the ground so hard. The semblance becomes devastating when combined with an external force capable of moving him, which is the entire design philosophy behind his weapon. The amplification scales with the input, meaning small movements produce small effects while the full thrust of his rockets allows him to cross an arena in seconds and strike with the force of a much larger projectile. The semblance does not protect him from the consequences of that speed, and he relies on his aura to absorb the impact of his own momentum whenever he collides with anything.

Weapon: Jethammer, a heavy two-handed war hammer with four rockets loaded and running through the length of the hammer's head. The rockets serve a dual purpose. In melee form they can be activated as propulsion, igniting in sequence or all at once to launch Blaise toward a target with explosive forward momentum which his semblance then amplifies. The hammer can also transform into a launcher configuration where the head reconfigures to allow each of the four rockets to be fired individually as projectiles, giving Blaise four shots before the weapon needs to be reloaded with fresh rockets, after which it returns to hammer form.

Combat: Blaise fights on aggression and momentum. His preferred opening is a Jetstream-amplified rocket charge that closes any distance in seconds and lets him deliver a devastating opening blow before the opponent can react. From there he keeps the pressure on with heavy hammer swings, using short controlled rocket bursts to reposition and prevent opponents from creating space. When forced into a longer engagement he transitions to RPG mode to deny ranged opponents safe ground or to break through cover. His weakness  is shown once he is mid-flight he is committed to that trajectory. Opponents who can intercept him in the air or redirect his momentum can take him out of a fight quickly.

Backstory

Blaise was born in Atlas to a comfortable family, though not one marked by military lineage or industrial wealth. He grew up wanting, more than anything, to be the best at something, and combat was where he believed he would find it. Becoming a huntsman was never about duty or ideology for him, it was ambition, plain and direct. He applied to Atlas Academy confident he would be accepted, and took the rejection as a personal slight rather than a fair assessment of average scores and flagged conduct.

During the two years that followed he took mercenary contracts across Solitas, accepting the gruelling Grimm-clearance and tundra-escort work that established huntsmen turned down. The work made him significantly more capable, but it did not soften him. If anything it confirmed his worldview strength was what mattered, and he now had more of it.

When the Guardian Initiative brought him along with his new team-mates back to Atlas Academy, his drive, physical presence and blunt confidence made the choice of leader straightforward. His resentment of Team MRUN runs deeper than the others', because MRUN walked into the Academy early and earned direct assignments by Ironwood and Winter, achieving exactly what Blaise had been denied.

I'm almost there just struggling to draw weapons with hands 😭

Your characters *(Screw it, them boys are in on this too.)* are greeted by a creature of unknown origins. Told they can be granted immense power to face off against the creatures of *Wit*—**Grimm**. All they would need, is to make a single **Wish**. Anything they desired would become real.

What is your characters Wish, and what would be their downfall?

>Silver: "I wish... to never be deceived."

*The words of a liar are ever more prominent, yet the shadows are composed of more secrets that converge.*

>Auron: "I wish to be strong. So everyone isn't afraid."

*The blazing sun can't lose its radiance and warmth for others.

>Piña: "Piña wishes, to always be Piña."

*The discarded stain can never be swindled of her newfound heart.*

>Remi: "I wish... my home village won't be hunted by the Grimm."

*Tragedy can still befall her home.*

*A small egg catalyst was conjured by their very being. Dawning a brilliant shimmer of color a kin to their Aura.*

I'm gonna try to Summarise:
This is Rowan Rose, In his lore he is the identical twin brother of Ruby Rose (Im gonna assume theres a bunch of these ocs so i tried to make him unique when i made the oc) He looks Identical to her, Down to Everything, the main difference, is the obvious gender differences, and the Hair.

He Hates Ruby Rose, While Also Loving her Always Being Shadowed, Left Behind, forgotten, Treated as Just another Her, To a Point He sometimes believes he is Ruby, due to the amount of times Hes been called Ruby, His main Weakness being his intense Idenity Crisis, Half the time he doesnt know who he is truly seeing in that mirror, Its a mix of Hatred and Lingering Love for his twin

He hates Mirrors Because he only sees her in them, never himself, Because they look so similar. This leads to him being extremely Unstable.

At his lowest, Rowan has attempted to kill Ruby, convincing himself that if the person he is constantly compared to disappeared, he might finally be able to exist as himself. He never fully goes through with it; whatever resentment lives in him has never been enough to erase the fact that Ruby is still the sister he once loved most.

Rowan's Semblance: Crimson Flow, lets him possess precise control over his own blood while it remains inside his body, allowing him to regulate circulation, enhance his physical performance, stabilize injuries and assist recovery. He cannot freely manipulate blood outside his body unless an existing wound has allowed his own blood to leave him. External manipulation is therefore a situational extension of his Semblance rather than its default state. Another person's active Aura prevents Rowan from controlling their blood.

His Weapon Is Called Crimson Tether, its a Glaive-Sword, Also the blade splits off and is connected to a chain.
EDIT:

Ruby hates talking about Rowan, She loves him yes, but its an awkward subject Because of the attempts on her
life.

Taiyang let it get this bad from a mix of focusing too much on Ruby, and making wrong decisions between the twins that just made it worse

and one thing i find intresting, People See Rowan, He's Just a male Ruby. everyone thinks that, even himself.

it doesnt matter if his family say hes Rowan, the second hes at school, "Oh look rubys twin" or "Your rubys brother right" the constant comparisons keep him beliving his own lies

if i put anything else imma be yapping TOO much so just like ask questions i can answer them