A Beacon of Hope in a Castle of Ice.

A Castle of Ice

Pov: Weiss Schnee.

"Ugh, that bed will be the death of me" I state within the sanctuary of my mind. I can hear Ruby's threat to life-and-limb of a bed creak and sway over my head. I open one eye and gaze about. It is pitch black still, though I don't feel too tired so it must be somewhere between five and six in the morning.

Is she tossing and turning again? I bet it is that dream of her destroying a pack of Beowolves again. My thoughts of a sleeping crimson-haired, scythe-wielding, silver-eyed girl are put to rest when I spot the dark figure dropping from the bed above and scooting out the room. I quickly close my eye almost completely, letting me see the figure without giving a way to see my crystal blue eyes, and thus maintain the illusion that I am fast asleep.
"Guess I'll take a walk," I can hear team RWBY's leader say. The shortest of the four grabs her set of keys and disappears out the room.

Since when does Ruby Rambunctious Rose get up THIS early? My thoughts aside, I shimmy myself underneath the comfort of my blanket and drift back into my dreamland while recalling the event of my first encounter with Beacon's own Ruby Rose.
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What was that sound? I thought to myself prior to turning around to see some of my suitcases flying to an apex height and falling back to the ground.

"What are you doing!?" I look down at a silver-eyed girl. She had a sweet face and slightly messy hair that agreed with the rest of her outfit in a commoner sense of fashion. The black outfit with a sensible combat skirt which was outlined with a lovely shade of dark red that matched the inside of my favorite white jacket made me scoff that such a beautiful color could be ruined by the sloppy dressing of this girl. The red cape-hood combo did not improve my first impression of this clumsy girl either.

"Sorry!", I hear her shout almost instantly. I must admit, she appears to be a sweet, somewhat naïve girl, but she has no idea what could have happened if one of those cases burst open, and I give her my opinion of her klutziness very well.

"Sorry? Do you have any idea of the damage you could have caused!?" I snap at the small form below me. Those silver eyes break from my eyesight, and for the first time I am gazing at this girl for what she is: A nervous wreck trying to get herself through what appears to be her first day at Beacon Academy as well, but I couldn't care less. I was brought up to make sure anyone who make a mistake in my sight will be told, and knows there will be no tolerance from the heiress of the world-renowned Schnee Dust Company.

"Uh . . ." is all I hear from this girl still on the floor while she reaches for one of the many scattered cases on the floor and holds it out to me.

Really? Is this girl serious? Of all the absent-minded, empty-headed, clumsy girls I could bump into, I have the unfortunate luck to be stuck with her. My immediate response is to snatch the case from her, opening it up to check its contents and take out a vial of red dust into my hand. I tell her of what these are. Her mouth still open in what I assume to be awe.

"What?! Has she never seen dust before?! Has she been living under a rock?!" I shout to myself. I see her sighing and closing her eyes, only angering me more as I wave my hand, forgetting the red dust vial which was in it.
"Are you even listening to me!?" I scream at her. Then I realize what is about to happen. A gaze out of the corner of my eye grants me the outline of the almost completely see-through cloud of red dust.
You better not you....
"Achoo!" is the last thing I hear exit her lips prior to a small spark that spreads and advances towards me in milliseconds. I immediately toss the vial of red dust away in panic, not wanting it to take my entire arm with it, and also charge my aura to defend from the small blast radius while also closing my eyes to avoid the sharp spark in light from the fiery firework display of lightning and ice.
Wait, why does her sneeze smell like cookies and unattended morning breath? Why does the dust explosion sound like an alarm clock?
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Ugh . . . she's come a long way since then, but she's still . . . I say to myself while opening my eyes and seeing the Crimson Fighter centimeters from my face. I stare in complete and utter confusion, the lidded eyes soon opening and a quick exchange of blue and silver commences.