Cyra Zylvan - Monday Mornings - Landing Pad
[@FateWeaver]


“Miss? Miss? Excuse me Miss, but I need you to wake up.”

Cyra groaned as she felt something prodding into her shoulder, dragging into wakefulness. Blinking her eyes open, she gazed blearily up at the man standing over her, then flinched away as he reached for her again. 

The man smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Miss, but we’ve arrived. I’m going to need you to depart.”

For a moment she gazed at him, then sighed internally. [i]He didn’t notice.[/i] “I-it’s alright. Thank you.” Rubbing her eyes with the back of her gloved knuckles, she rose from her seat and looked out the window. Before her, towering spires pierced the sky, dominated by a large central clock tower. Beacon Academy, where the best Huntsmen and Huntresses came to train and learn their craft, attracting students from all over the Kingdom of Vale, and more than a few from the other kingdoms. 

Cyra swallowed. [i]And for the next four years, my home.[/i] Whether or not it would be a home remained to be seen.

She turned to grab her backpack from where it had sat beside her against the wall, and as she did so she wondered about the other students filing off the transport, where they had come from, what lives they had lived. Most had probably come from wealthy, or at least modestly comfortable homes, with suitcases full of clothes and treasured possessions, bearing memories of loving families and happy times. Certainly there were some things they missed, things they didn’t have space for or knew they didn’t need. 

What were the odds that anyone else there would have the entirety of their life stuffed into a single backpack? 

Shaking the thoughts from her head, Cyra shouldered the bag and adjusted her scarf, making sure the thin fabric was drawn up over her nose. If she was being honest with herself, it probably didn’t need to be up that high, especially not with her hood pulled over her head, but with all these strangers about, she wasn’t going to take any chances. Better that they think her strange for how she dressed than for what she was. 

As she emerged from the transport, the sight of several other Faunus milling about waiting for their bags made her relax slightly. Some were quite open about their natures, others were more subdued, but it was still somewhat reassuring that she wasn’t entirely alone. Perhaps one day she could be as open as them, but they probably didn’t have quite the same history as she did.

A heavy thump drew her attention back to the transport, where luggage and cargo were being off-loaded. One young man was struggling to lift a large silver suitcase, his expression clearly startled at its weight, and she hurried forward. “Oh, that’s mine!”

The man glanced up at her, then rubbed his forehead with his hand. “Man, this thing is heavy. What do you have in here, bricks?”

[i]It should be heavy, it holds the equivalent of a tank in firepower.[/i] Instead, she spoke, “N-no, just some tools and things.” Okay, so perhaps not her entire life was in her backpack. The shields weren’t THAT heavy, but even so, she didn’t feel like carrying them around on her arms all the time. 

She extended the suitcase handle and turned towards the Academy, taking a deep breath. [i]Well, here goes. Wish me luck, Mamma.[/i]

As she stepped forward, she bumped into the shoulder of a young man with dark blonde hair. "Oh! S-sorry! I-I didn't mean to hit you," she stuttered as she took several hurried steps away from him, blushing furiously.