- Location
- The United States
Black Like Ink (A RWBY AU)
- Thread starter Ethernet_Cable
- Start date
- Fantasy
-
- Tags
- rwby first quest open voting
- Location
- USA
I can make this work. Thanks for voting!
WanderingTwix
Posting something good once in a full moon
- Location
- United Kingdom
[X] Writing.
-[X] stories about Blake
It's a bit on the nose, but seems fine. I don't have a better idea
-[X] stories about Blake
It's a bit on the nose, but seems fine. I don't have a better idea
Introduction 1.4
- Location
- USA
Deep in sorrow, Robin turned towards the only thing he knew: writing. Over the course of the following weeks, Robin spent nearly all his time writing stories about Blake. In one, she was a Starling flying across the Great Sea, taking refuge on the occasional ship while evading the jaws of aquatic Grimm and fleeing from the claws of avian Grimm. In another, Blake was safe in Vale, making posters.
. . . kneeled over the starchy paper, writing big letters and drawing beautiful figures to convince the people of Vale to love their Faunus siblings. . .
Robin's pen carved a valley in the parchment of his notebook and ink flowed. Words and ideas were communicated from head to hand in seconds and Robin found himself writing without pause. And, while Robin was hunched over his desk, writing about Blake's unending support of the White Fang, a shadows, black like ink, began coursing off his desk, falling to the ground in black rivulets and pooling into a black lake on the floor of Robin's room. Gradually, word after word, a shadow emerged from the pool of black, miming what Robin was writing. . .
Blake set aside a finished poster. . .
And the shadow set aside a sheet of black.
. . .and began on another one.
The shadow reached over and pulled forth another sheet of inky darkness. For a long time, the shadow did as Blake did, performing Robin's instructions to the tee as he wrote. It was like a puppet, guided by thin black shadowy lines connecting it to Robin. Robin, enraptured by the task of writing, didn't notice a thing. Creator and creation were in near-sync, each performing their task dutifully without a care for the room.
Then, Ghira entered the room.
"Aaah!"
Robin whirled around and leapt out of his seat with a start.
"Eeep!"
Ghira staggered his feet, poised to strike should the shadow move.
The shadow stopped working on its poster, only to be kicked to the ground by Ghira. Unfazed, the shadow kneeled back on the floor and continued its work. Ghira relaxed slightly.
"Robin, do you know what this is?" Ghira said, gesturing towards the shadow.
"N--no." Robin trembled. At any moment, he would be ready to jump out the window.
"It's your semblance, Robin." Ghira's voice was proud as he smiled.
"O--oh! That's. . . cool" Robin relaxed a bit. "H--how do I get rid of it?"
Kali burst into the room, brandishing a thick textbook. "I heard screaming. Is everyone alri--What is that?"
Ghira steadied Kali. "Relax, it's Robin's semblance."
"Semblance?" The tension in Kali's shoulders dissipated. "Oh! Congrats! Do we know what it does?"
Robin moved his arms, gesturing in an attempt to get his semblance to do something beyond working on posters.
"It just keeps on sitting there."
"What is it doing? Say, doesn't it look a bit like Blake?" Ghira said.
An idea pinged in Robin's mind. He picked up his notebook and pen and. . .
Stop.
Nothing happened.
Stop making posters.
What else does Robin try?
[] Write-in
. . . kneeled over the starchy paper, writing big letters and drawing beautiful figures to convince the people of Vale to love their Faunus siblings. . .
Robin's pen carved a valley in the parchment of his notebook and ink flowed. Words and ideas were communicated from head to hand in seconds and Robin found himself writing without pause. And, while Robin was hunched over his desk, writing about Blake's unending support of the White Fang, a shadows, black like ink, began coursing off his desk, falling to the ground in black rivulets and pooling into a black lake on the floor of Robin's room. Gradually, word after word, a shadow emerged from the pool of black, miming what Robin was writing. . .
Blake set aside a finished poster. . .
And the shadow set aside a sheet of black.
. . .and began on another one.
The shadow reached over and pulled forth another sheet of inky darkness. For a long time, the shadow did as Blake did, performing Robin's instructions to the tee as he wrote. It was like a puppet, guided by thin black shadowy lines connecting it to Robin. Robin, enraptured by the task of writing, didn't notice a thing. Creator and creation were in near-sync, each performing their task dutifully without a care for the room.
Then, Ghira entered the room.
"Aaah!"
Robin whirled around and leapt out of his seat with a start.
"Eeep!"
Ghira staggered his feet, poised to strike should the shadow move.
The shadow stopped working on its poster, only to be kicked to the ground by Ghira. Unfazed, the shadow kneeled back on the floor and continued its work. Ghira relaxed slightly.
"Robin, do you know what this is?" Ghira said, gesturing towards the shadow.
"N--no." Robin trembled. At any moment, he would be ready to jump out the window.
"It's your semblance, Robin." Ghira's voice was proud as he smiled.
"O--oh! That's. . . cool" Robin relaxed a bit. "H--how do I get rid of it?"
Kali burst into the room, brandishing a thick textbook. "I heard screaming. Is everyone alri--What is that?"
Ghira steadied Kali. "Relax, it's Robin's semblance."
"Semblance?" The tension in Kali's shoulders dissipated. "Oh! Congrats! Do we know what it does?"
Robin moved his arms, gesturing in an attempt to get his semblance to do something beyond working on posters.
"It just keeps on sitting there."
"What is it doing? Say, doesn't it look a bit like Blake?" Ghira said.
An idea pinged in Robin's mind. He picked up his notebook and pen and. . .
Stop.
Nothing happened.
Stop making posters.
What else does Robin try?
[] Write-in
WanderingTwix
Posting something good once in a full moon
- Location
- United Kingdom
[X] Try and get it to communicate
-[X] Try calling the shadow Blake if it doesn't respond
-[x] If it lacks vocal cords, try and get it to write
-[X] If the above fails, try writing different stories about Blake to see how/if the shadow responds
-[X] Try calling the shadow Blake if it doesn't respond
-[x] If it lacks vocal cords, try and get it to write
-[X] If the above fails, try writing different stories about Blake to see how/if the shadow responds
Introduction 1.5
- Location
- USA
[X] Try and get it to communicate
Robin frowned as he stared at his semblance.
Hello? Robin wrote. No Response.
[X] Try calling the shadow Blake if it doesn't respond
"Blake?" Robin said, then wrote in his journal. Again, no response.
Robin shared a befuddled look with his parents before another idea occurred to him.
Blake stood up.
The shadow stood up.
Blake said hello.
The shadow stood in silence. It had no mouth with which to speak, something that unsettled Robin. It had no eyes either. In fact, the only thing that hinted towards the shadow being Blake was the hair.
-[x] If it lacks vocal cords, try and get it to write
Robin frowned again. Was this just something that looked like Blake?
Blake wrote 'hello' on the wall.
The shadow turned and, in an elegant flourish ever-so-slightly off from Blake's handwriting, wrote 'hello' on the wall. Ghira and Kali looked at the shadow in concern.
"You told it to do that, dear, didn't you?" Kali said.
"Mhm." Robin nodded. "I don't think it's actually Blake. It's just a—a shadow of her. . ."
"Don't worry about it. You have a semblance now. You should be happy! Why don't you, err, play around with it for a bit? No need to help out with dinner, I can do that," Ghira said.
"Okay," Robin said. Ghira and Kali left the room. Robin felt a faint glimmer of excitement well up within in spite of his mood. It's true he didn't/couldn't bring Blake back, but maybe his semblance could distract him until his mother tracked Blake down.
-[X] If the above fails, try writing different stories about Blake to see how/if the shadow responds
"What do I do with you," Robin said to himself. The shadow stood on the other side of the room. Waiting.
Robin picked up his pen and began writing. This time, he kept the shadow firmly in his field of view. He started small, exploring how The Shadow would respond to different prompts.
Blake jumped.
The Shadow jumped.
Blake walked around.
The Shadow walked in circles. After a minute, Robin quickly grew impatient. He tried bigger actions.
Blake made the bed.
To Robin's joy, The Shadow did just that. After having had The Shadow clean his room. Robin stared at the entrance to his room in contemplation. Slowly, Robin wrote the next sentence.
Blake left the room.
Robin watched with bated breath as the Shadow walked out of the room, through the door, and out into the hallway. Excited that The Shadow was not confined to his room, Robin let his imagination run wild.
Blake teleported outside the house.
The Shadow vanished into a pool of shadow on the floor. Robin dashed to the window and watched as a the shadow bubbled forth from the ground right in front of the window.
Blake waved.
The Shadow waved. Robin waved back before he realized his folly.
Blake walked to the market.
This time, a small shop stand emerged from the ground in a pool of inky black. Robin watched as The Shadow shrank in size to match the size of the stand. Robin felt a vague sense of unease take over him. Ignoring the strange sensation, Robin wrote another sentence.
Blake saw Gilbert at the market.
A second shadow appeared from the ground, and the market stand and The Shadow grew even smaller. Robin could feel something inside of him starting to fatigue. It was a strange sensation, like he was stretching something inside of his very being. Fearing that he was overdoing things, Robin quickly scratched out his previous two sentences.
The shop and the second shadow melted back into the ground. Robin still felt the strain.
Blake disappeared.
The Shadow disappeared, and Robin sighed in relief as he felt the strain lessen. He figured he couldn't keep his semblance out for too long. Robin glanced at the clock. He'd only had his semblance out for maybe. . . forty minutes?
Over the next few days, Robin spent his free time exploring his semblance whenever he could. He found that there were some simple rules, which he had scrawled on the inside cover of his journal:
1. The Shadow goes by Blake.
2. The Shadow can't be further than fifteen feet from me.
3. I can make more shadows but they make everything smaller.
4. I can only keep The Shadow around for an hour.
5. I dismiss the smaller shadows by scratching them out.
6. I dismiss Blake by writing her away.
There was of course one more rule, but to Robin it had seemed so self-evident that he hadn't bothered writing it down: the shadows only started appearing when he wrote about Blake.
Instrumental in the codifying the "Rules of Shadows" as Robin liked to call them, was Gilbert, who had been the one who wanted to study Robin's semblance in such detail.
"Lucky!" Gilbert said when the Rules of Shadows were codified. "You're one step closer to being a huntsman! I wish I had a semblance. . ."
"Hmph." Robin rolled his eyes. "It's not like Blake's any use. By the time I finish writing a sentence, the Grimm would've had me for lunch."
"You're so wrong and you don't even know it." Gilbert leaned back in his chair, almost toppling it over. "You're supposed to use your semblance to fight for you. Duh!"
"How fast do you think I can write?" Robin exclaimed.
"You're supposed to train. Besides, there's shorthand." Gilbert gasped. "We should totally see if shorthand works."
"I'm tirrreeedd Gilbert."
"Fine. Fine. Fine. But you better try this out tomorrow with me. This is so cool. You're going to be a huntsman! Man I can't wait till I get me semblance. The two of us will be the pair of best friends that all the Grimm are afraid of."
"Hah. . ." Robin laughed, though the sound came out forced. To be honest, as excited as Gilbert was about the two becoming huntsman. . .
Robin:
[] Didn't want to be a huntsman.
[] Wanted to be a huntsman.
Robin frowned as he stared at his semblance.
Hello? Robin wrote. No Response.
[X] Try calling the shadow Blake if it doesn't respond
"Blake?" Robin said, then wrote in his journal. Again, no response.
Robin shared a befuddled look with his parents before another idea occurred to him.
Blake stood up.
The shadow stood up.
Blake said hello.
The shadow stood in silence. It had no mouth with which to speak, something that unsettled Robin. It had no eyes either. In fact, the only thing that hinted towards the shadow being Blake was the hair.
-[x] If it lacks vocal cords, try and get it to write
Robin frowned again. Was this just something that looked like Blake?
Blake wrote 'hello' on the wall.
The shadow turned and, in an elegant flourish ever-so-slightly off from Blake's handwriting, wrote 'hello' on the wall. Ghira and Kali looked at the shadow in concern.
"You told it to do that, dear, didn't you?" Kali said.
"Mhm." Robin nodded. "I don't think it's actually Blake. It's just a—a shadow of her. . ."
"Don't worry about it. You have a semblance now. You should be happy! Why don't you, err, play around with it for a bit? No need to help out with dinner, I can do that," Ghira said.
"Okay," Robin said. Ghira and Kali left the room. Robin felt a faint glimmer of excitement well up within in spite of his mood. It's true he didn't/couldn't bring Blake back, but maybe his semblance could distract him until his mother tracked Blake down.
-[X] If the above fails, try writing different stories about Blake to see how/if the shadow responds
"What do I do with you," Robin said to himself. The shadow stood on the other side of the room. Waiting.
Robin picked up his pen and began writing. This time, he kept the shadow firmly in his field of view. He started small, exploring how The Shadow would respond to different prompts.
Blake jumped.
The Shadow jumped.
Blake walked around.
The Shadow walked in circles. After a minute, Robin quickly grew impatient. He tried bigger actions.
Blake made the bed.
To Robin's joy, The Shadow did just that. After having had The Shadow clean his room. Robin stared at the entrance to his room in contemplation. Slowly, Robin wrote the next sentence.
Blake left the room.
Robin watched with bated breath as the Shadow walked out of the room, through the door, and out into the hallway. Excited that The Shadow was not confined to his room, Robin let his imagination run wild.
Blake teleported outside the house.
The Shadow vanished into a pool of shadow on the floor. Robin dashed to the window and watched as a the shadow bubbled forth from the ground right in front of the window.
Blake waved.
The Shadow waved. Robin waved back before he realized his folly.
Blake walked to the market.
This time, a small shop stand emerged from the ground in a pool of inky black. Robin watched as The Shadow shrank in size to match the size of the stand. Robin felt a vague sense of unease take over him. Ignoring the strange sensation, Robin wrote another sentence.
Blake saw Gilbert at the market.
A second shadow appeared from the ground, and the market stand and The Shadow grew even smaller. Robin could feel something inside of him starting to fatigue. It was a strange sensation, like he was stretching something inside of his very being. Fearing that he was overdoing things, Robin quickly scratched out his previous two sentences.
The shop and the second shadow melted back into the ground. Robin still felt the strain.
Blake disappeared.
The Shadow disappeared, and Robin sighed in relief as he felt the strain lessen. He figured he couldn't keep his semblance out for too long. Robin glanced at the clock. He'd only had his semblance out for maybe. . . forty minutes?
Over the next few days, Robin spent his free time exploring his semblance whenever he could. He found that there were some simple rules, which he had scrawled on the inside cover of his journal:
1. The Shadow goes by Blake.
2. The Shadow can't be further than fifteen feet from me.
3. I can make more shadows but they make everything smaller.
4. I can only keep The Shadow around for an hour.
5. I dismiss the smaller shadows by scratching them out.
6. I dismiss Blake by writing her away.
There was of course one more rule, but to Robin it had seemed so self-evident that he hadn't bothered writing it down: the shadows only started appearing when he wrote about Blake.
Instrumental in the codifying the "Rules of Shadows" as Robin liked to call them, was Gilbert, who had been the one who wanted to study Robin's semblance in such detail.
"Lucky!" Gilbert said when the Rules of Shadows were codified. "You're one step closer to being a huntsman! I wish I had a semblance. . ."
"Hmph." Robin rolled his eyes. "It's not like Blake's any use. By the time I finish writing a sentence, the Grimm would've had me for lunch."
"You're so wrong and you don't even know it." Gilbert leaned back in his chair, almost toppling it over. "You're supposed to use your semblance to fight for you. Duh!"
"How fast do you think I can write?" Robin exclaimed.
"You're supposed to train. Besides, there's shorthand." Gilbert gasped. "We should totally see if shorthand works."
"I'm tirrreeedd Gilbert."
"Fine. Fine. Fine. But you better try this out tomorrow with me. This is so cool. You're going to be a huntsman! Man I can't wait till I get me semblance. The two of us will be the pair of best friends that all the Grimm are afraid of."
"Hah. . ." Robin laughed, though the sound came out forced. To be honest, as excited as Gilbert was about the two becoming huntsman. . .
Robin:
[] Didn't want to be a huntsman.
[] Wanted to be a huntsman.
Last edited:
- Location
- USA
Feel free to write-in. Though I'm not sure what a third option would look like, I'm excited to see what you all come up with.
[X] You'd figure it out as you got older.
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
- Location
- USA
GDI. Fixed
WanderingTwix
Posting something good once in a full moon
- Location
- United Kingdom
[X] You'd figure it out as you got older.
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
[X] You'd figure it out as you got older.
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
--[x] Continue to write stories. Try other genres. Do not make Blake a centra figure in all of them, though In many stories theres a character of a girl who somehow resembles her (cat faunus/activist with strong opinions/cravings for tuna). Try to add some simple drawings.
writing about Blake is a good coping mechanism. but its not healthy to center it all around her. so, mc tried to move on and ... mostly suceeded in it...
-[x] Maybe you could become an explorer, or a famous showmen, maybe you could help dad with equality. Or maybe entertain others with his semblance.
--[x] Even if not a huntsman, maybe he could train, see if he could be strong enough to find Blake...
--[x] Continue to write stories. Try other genres. Do not make Blake a centra figure in all of them, though In many stories theres a character of a girl who somehow resembles her (cat faunus/activist with strong opinions/cravings for tuna). Try to add some simple drawings.
writing about Blake is a good coping mechanism. but its not healthy to center it all around her. so, mc tried to move on and ... mostly suceeded in it...