( open ) we're the kids who feel like dead ends

[unpromising]

Who: Qrow Branwen + you.
Where: Places!
When: Throughout Chapter 4.
Summary: RAC training, and some closed prompts for some people.
Restrictions/Warnings: TBA

Comments

[impulsors]

[ he looks at the crow

and right back at qrow, dead-eyed. ]

I'm not sure you know what a real animal looks like.

[unpromising]

You really think the higher-ups would've allowed me to bring a "pet"?

[ he even does the airquotes to help prove his point. ]

It's electronic.

[ he walks further into the room, hands in his pockets. he stops by the desk and sits on it. ]

But I guess a Level One wouldn't know right away, huh?

[impulsors]

[ wow. that hits home. ]

How would ranking up teach you how to spot a robot? Did they mod you with magnets?

[unpromising]

[ it should! qrow is a dick. ]

You gotta be sharper's what I'm saying. And no, they didn't mod me with magnets. [ he lets out a soft "psh" at that, then chuckles. ]

So, what're you here for?

[impulsors]

. . . the posting said they were holding formal training in this room.

I thought they'd send people who knew what they were doing.

[unpromising]

[ if qrow were his younger self, that would have definitely provoked him. thankfully?! he's... a lot more mature in other ways, now. ]

Been doing this for years, kid. I'm pretty sure they know that I know what I'm doing.

[ he stretches his legs and hops off the desk. ]

Why don't you show me what you've got?

[impulsors]

[ well, that deserves a flickered look, head to heels. qrow slouches like a lush (and frankly has the haircut of one) -- but nobody bribes their way to level four.

his heels shift apart by degrees, steadying. ]

Is it gonna be just you, or you and the crow?

[unpromising]

Just me.

Got a problem with it?

[ his lips curve into a small smile, though. as far as he's concerned, they've already started. ]

[impulsors]

Not if you're any good.

[ but okay. there's only one way to learn how good qrow really is, and it isn't by holding still. quick on his feet, keith charges -- sweeps low for a kick an instant before the expected impact. it's a fairly low-level killjoy style of fighting: weaponless and kick-heavy, all the simple practicality of a boy who learned his tactics by watching bar brawls, milking the advantage of being the lighter one for all the dexterity he can get.

the question's how long they can make this last. ]