HereComesTheSnow — Roleplayer Guild

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Write@Plank Sinatra

What was my motivation?

"Well..." I looked upwards, as if I thought the sky could just use the stars to paint a clear picture for me. I wasn't so lucky as to have the heavens align themselves in any manner for my sake, so I could just stare and think.

And think I did.

My motivation. My endgame. What I wanted out of my training here, what I wanted out of this career, what I wanted out of putting my life on the line against nightmarish monsters for my life's path.

It wasn't money, I'd declared that much already. And the sentiment attached was absolutely true. I only cared enough about money to make sure I could live off of it. Extreme wealth was more a bonus than anything else, and not something I couldn't live without.

Heck, I knew a scruffy man with an Aloha shirt that seemed to abhor living a life of luxury by principle. He was one of my guiding figures and first friends.

No, it wasn't money.

Was it power? Did I want influence, like Gratia, to force the world to bend it's knee to my will?

...

Well, I might have just been projecting that part onto her because she still scared me a little. The answer, however, was still no.

Or at least, not exactly. I did want to gain power, yeah. I wanted to become a powerful individual. A capable individual. Someone who could keep themselves and everyone around them safe in times of need.

Everyone around me was already powerful, though.

Yeah, in fact, they were so powerful that they probably needed to keep me safe instead of vice versa. It was the same way at home, too. Mom, April, Dawn... they were all much more powerful than me. Heck, even my father, despite lacking the physical capabilities I had, seemed so much more cool-headed and in control than I had ever been.

Was it prestige, then? Maybe. Granted, I wasn't too keen on the idea of having my name in the spotlight, either...

Well, did prestige have to equate to fame? Maybe it didn't. Maybe I could call it that without looking to end up in tabloids, instead of just... being acknowledged alongside my peers? I would have liked that.

If everyone around me was so accomplished in comparison, I obviously should want to stand amongst them, then, right?

Well, yeah. That was all correct. I wanted to be able to pull my weight, right? To not be a liability. To not be holding everyone back. To not be just an afterthought.

Was I an afterthought?

...I didn't want to be.

I was right here too. I didn't just want to be a face in the background. I didn't want to be a footnote in my achievements. I didn't want to be the unsung bottom of the class, and I didn't want to just be another also-ran. 

I've spent my whole life outshone, you know?

I'm not smart.

I'm not strong.

I'm not even overly nice.

I'm just a guy.

But I don't want to just be "that guy". I don't want to be in the background. I don't want to go my whole life in anyone else's shadow anymore.

Not my mother's.

Not my sisters'.

Not my classmates'.

Not even my teammates'.

I want to be able to stand tall in this school upon my own two feet. I want to become somebody I can be proud of being. I want to show what I can do, even if it may not be much. I want people to see me as worthy. No, I want to see myself as worthy. I want my revenge to be by living well, and living well is ultimately self-actualization, isn't it? I want to push my average, unassuming self as far as he can possibly go, and then a little further, just out of spite. I want to tell everyone talented or gifted or skilled in the world to make some damn room.

I felt something tighten. I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"I want to prove I'm good enough."

To lead the charge of a new generation of Schwarzes into the Hunting World. To be reliable as a mentor and as a brother. To stare down any threat in the face without fear of the reprisal. To protect anyone I hold dear, and to save everyone I can. To right every wrong I had committed and seen, and to always be able to do the right thing.

I wanted to genuinely, with nothing less than all of myself, prove I had what it takes to become what I wanted to be. 

Strong.

Smart.

Dependable.

Brave.

Worthy.

A Hunter.

A Hero.

@Silvan Haven@Crimmy@Write@Plank Sinatra

I might have been attempting to befriend a supervillain.

"A-Ah."

I kept my intimidation mostly under lock and key, as was my growing custom when breeching topics like this, but seriously! I could honestly feel the intensity suddenly spike in the air around us! It's that semblance of hers, right? Her voice did the same thing it did back when I first reported in for examination at her dorm! Wait, no, that sentence sounded wrong. When I was there to provide my hair for scientific analysis?

Her voice broke, that's what I'm saying. It broke from her usual stoic demeanor again, and showed me a hint of the berserker underneath that poor Cian had to deal with in sparring.

Her voice changed, and her eyes stared straight through me like I was fighting the manticore all over again.

Well, no, that was wrong, actually.

The manticore wanted to kill me, plainly, simply, and openly.

Gratia...

Tundra.

Tundra, tundra, tundra, and I'm not making a gag of it this time like I usually do. It was cold, piercing, and harshly unrelenting, just like a gust of wind in the tundra.

And I wasn't even sure I could call that lopsided, beastial thing a smile. She looked like a shark. I didn't want a shark when Gratia first smiled at me, you know? No guy ever wants a shark in that context! Shark week should not extend to your classmates!

"I see."

I wasn't sure what else to come back at her with.

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