Male!Timelord!Reader in RWBY (Cancelled!)

Chapter 7: Wasted Energy

The trio - after much confusion and misdirection - walked forwards through the main wall of Beacon, its looming form leering at them intimidatingly. Whilst two of the three were quite suitably impressed by the structure, the other, a renegade Time Lord calling himself Y/N L/N wasn't: He was after all used to such heights back home on Gallifrey, where even just his school was thirty-eight miles across, and the Citadel even larger. In front of them, as they walked in, were many rows of students, though Y/N didn't really care much for them, and the stacks upon stacks of faces almost seemed to blend into a plain, uninteresting slab of monotone.

"Ruby! Over here!" Cried an excited, feminine voice, and the three turned around to see a mature-looking, attractive blonde girl, who waved at her. "I saved you a spot!"

"Oh--!" Said Ruby, about to take a step towards her sister, before casting an apologetic look back at Jaune and Y/N. "Hey, I-I gotta go! I'll see you after the ceremony!" And like that, she was gone.

Arm extended out, Jaune cried, "Hey wait!" But by then, Ruby was already too far away to hear, and the blond sighed. "Great, where are we supposed to find another nice, quirky girl to talk to?" He turned around to face Y/N, but he had seemingly vanished himself, his figure disappearing into the crowd perfectly.

The Time Lord made his way out from the main area, quietly slinking through his fellow students as he turned a corner. "Just need to find somewhere to hide it..." Muttered Y/N to himself quietly, digging through the pockets of his overcoat for his TARDIS key. His eyes leapt about the corridors as he quickly searched for a convenient parking spot, not wanting to be too long, lest he miss some form of announcement, as the microphone on the stage indicated. For a short while, the Gallifreyan seemed to turn up empty handed, until he noticed - to his joy - the bathrooms.

"Perfect..." The concept seemed to fit beautifully into Y/N's mind. By parking his timeship in a commonly used area, he'd be able to have the perfect excuse to go make repairs (and a quick flight now and then), and not only that, but the TARDIS would be able to blend in easily, without standing out too much. Hiding in plain sight. The ultimate strategy.

The TARDIS materiallised once more, its groan seemingly quieter than it had been before, as its plasmic shell formed beside the stalls - accidentally desintegrating the hand-dryer that used to be there. It took on the form of a toilet stall, albeit a broken one, with a 'UNDER MAINTENANCE' sign on its door, which was seemingly locked from the inside. Satisfied with this, Y/N quickly whipped around, and darted out of the bathroom, and back out into the main hall.

Just in time too, as when the Time Lord skidded back out into the large, open area, returning once more into the crowd, there was the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he looked up to see Ozpin - the 'old' (if using human lifespans as a starting point, anyway) headmaster he had met days prior - standing on the stage, mouth close to the microphone as he began to speak. "I'll..." Ozpin began, pushing his spectacles further up on his nose, "...keep this brief."

"You have travelled here today in search of knowledge. To hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you have finished, you plan to dedicate your life," Y/N quietly snickered, "to the protection of the people. But I look amongst you, and all I see is wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction. You assume knowledge will free you from this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the first step."

The headmaster made his exit, walking away slowly on his cane as the blonde woman - Glenda, or something close to that - took his place at the microphone. "You will gather in the ballroom tonight. Tomorrow your initiation begins. Be ready. You are dismissed!"

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As night settled in, and the wind quietly blew through the air amongst the chirping of grasshoppers, the students of Beacon had laid their beds in the Ballroom - simple mattresses and sleeping bags. Y/N, having lived as a pureblooded Gallifreyan all his life, had become accustomed to only one hour of sleep a day. It was all that was necessary for his species, anyway, thanks to biology so complex and wonderous that entire planets would be ripped apart just to get one cell. Humans, however, required up to eight hours - an agonisingly long time for a chronarch such as himself. But, blending in was blending in, and even if he wouldn't actually be sleeping for that long, he might as well put in the effort to seem like he would be.