RWBY: CPPR

Cold

It's always cold in Atlas.

No matter what time of year it is, how brightly the sun is shining, or how well your house's heating works, there will always be that ever-present chill coming from the glaciers. I guess that's to be expected though, when your nation is literally built atop a snowy tundra that only a few desperate madmen decided to call home. It's not all bad though, since what started as a nation built on a desperate need to survive has become the wealthiest and most thriving nation in all of Remnant. Ironically, that same grand nation can't manage to heat their houses enough to keep the cold out.

Of course, then there are the higher ups of the higher ups. People like the Schnee family. Always having to look at people down the bridge of their noses. Though, even they can't keep the chill out... metaphorically speaking. Ever since Nicholas died that place has been nothing but bad news, and the cold seeped in enough to chill the Schnee family's heart. Assholes, the lot of them. But then again, that's how most of the world sees the entirety of Atlas anyways. Even the people like me.

I lay there, my icy bed slowly sticking me to the sheet the longer I stay motionless. To say it was cold would be an understatement, and my house's broken windows definitely didn't help at all. Seventeen years on this planet, and I had never truly known what it's like to be warm, because while we do live in Atlas, it doesn't mean that we aren't poor. My mother making just barely enough lien to keep us fed each week, whereas in any other kingdom we'd be living decently. Atlas was a place for the rich, and if you weren't, you were not going to live.

I watched the moon outside my window, seeing how the shattered pieces slowly trailed behind what was left of the great orb. Yep... that's me. The night before my first day at Atlas Academy, and what am I doing? I'm staring at the moon through the hole where my window should be. I am most certainly the definition of "genius."

My gaze shifted from the moon down to below the window. A white and red shield was propped against the wall. I had built the thing out of spare pieces that I had managed to salvage from scrapyards and things that fell off of Atlas Military Trains. The thing was not the prettiest weapon by all means, but at least the paint job I gave it covered up most of the rust. I seriously have no idea how I got accepted into Atlas, but I did, barely scraping through the entrance exam with a fraction of my aura left and most of my weapon laying on the ground.

That shield isn't pretty, but it's the only chance that I've got if I want to get out of this place. Huntsmen and Atlesian Specialists are the highest paying jobs in all of Atlas, and I'm going to become one. I don't care what it takes for me to get there, I will.

My eyelids grew heavy as I looked at the shield I had just managed to finish repairs for only a few hours earlier. "What am I gonna do? I can't get into Atlas Academy with that." My eyelids grew heavier as I began to doze off. My eyes never left the shield though; they stayed focused on the center of the massive red crucifix that covered its face.

With that, my eyelidsmet, and everything was black for just a moment.