[h1][center][color=a0410d]RUSS[/color][/center][/h1]
[center]With mention of [color=6ecff6]NOR[/color] and [color=e36700]RUFUS[/color][/center]

Russ awoke with a start, eyes searching wildly around the ballroom, her whole body wound up and tense. A moment passed and her pulse began to settle, she let her head fall back down against the makeshift pillow that was her armor and exhaled what felt like a lifetime's worth of air. Right, she'd fallen asleep in here, it had been her own two feet that had brought her to the ballroom, no one here held a whip. Alright well, chances were that one of these students had some kind of whip-like weapon, but still, at least it wouldn't be aimed for her. 

She got to her feet and dressed, strapping the round sheath to her back and giving her joints a good roll. Lastly, she slung the bag over her shoulder and pulled it so that it clung close to her. Everything seemed in order, and most of the students were starting to shuffle out towards where she could only assume would be the initiation area. In truth, she had no idea what to expect, would they be sparring each other? If that was the case, she wouldn't mind going a round or two with Tiger, see if his bark was worse than his bite. And speaking of bites, duking it out with Jaws might have been fun as well, what with his big ass weapon and bigger-asser teeth. How would they decide the teams? Could people be disqualified? Sure there would probably be a handful that quit, and worst-case others might die, but Russ couldn't help but wonder what would happen to the ones that just weren't good enough. Was it Beacon's policy to turn them away, or teach them? Sure it was an academy, but there had to be some threshold, didn't there? Getting turned away had to be the worst, at least being dead spared you the shame of having to walk away and wait for a shuttle to ship you back where you came from. 

A chill shot through her spine and she bristled at the thought. [color=a0410d]"Yeah, fuck that,"[/color] she muttered. There was no way in hell she was getting sent away. There was nothing for her outside of Beacon, not anymore, in fact worse than that there was one angry hunter looking for her weapons. Alright, [i]his[/i] weapons, technically, but it wasn't like they had his name on them or anything. Thankfully. Just some scribbling about a son and a daughter. Probably a family man, which made her feel a bit better actually. Without his weapons, the man might not pursue such a dangerous life, might keep him alive and his children unorphaned. Yeah, in some roundabout way, Russ was sure she had done a [i]good[/i] thing by lying to her dying mentor and running away with the expensive swords. Definitely. 

Before she could delve any further down that trail of thought, Russ pushed it from her mind and fell in line with the rest of the students. No tricks today, Russ was confident the food from the previous evening would be enough to hold her over for a good while, and besides there was no rush. Everyone would go, everyone would be tried in whatever ceremony the Beacon uppers decided, and there would be no getting out of it. Whether she got there first or last, today she would be tested and her future decided. And it was a good thing, it was what she wanted, a life of meaning fighting against the Grimm for the good of Remnant, however short that life might end up being. Out there she had nothing, in here at least she could [i]be[/i] something, so of course this was where she wanted to be. It had to be. 

When at last she arrived at the cliffs with the other students, Russ was ready. No more joking around, it was time to take things seriously. Prim and proper, if only for a little bit, the Grimm were unlikely to appreciate her sense of humor anyway. Their loss. No, bad Russ, be serious. Serious face, serious posture, serious mind, seriously. Just long enough to get through this. 

[b](Round 3)[/b]