The White Death - A RWBY Fanfiction

Team FNCI's First Mission

POV - Whitley

I was startled awake by a pillow to the face which caused me to jump out of bed.

"Sorry Whitley, we tried to wake you up nicely but Ilia got impatient," Flynt explained.

"Figured," I groaned.

"We have to pick our mission in one hour sleepy head, I suggest hurrying." Ilia explained in an annoyed tone.

"Who pissed in your Laughy O's?"

"You," she growled.

I pulled myself off the floor with the ledge of my bed and gave her a cockeyed look.

"Just take your shower please."

I walked over to the closet and grabbed my outfit before scuttling over to the bathroom to shower. I closed the door and went about my usual morning routine.

POV - Neon

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Nothing," she answered with a downcast look.

"Ursa shit," Flynt said, stepping closer to her, "What was the attitude for?"

"He was out training late because of the General, and I still think it's too much for him to be doing."

"How long ago was that now, like a month or so right," Flynt asked looking at me.

"Something like that, yeah," I answered after thinking for a second.

"It's been a month Ilia, you have to get over it," Flynt said, trying to end the conversation by continuing his coffee making.

"I'm sorry, I just thought Whitley would be smart enough to tell him no last night with something this important happening today," Ilia said, stepping in front of Flynt, clearly not done with the conversation just yet.

I sat on my bed thinking quietly about the fact that she wasn't exactly wrong. As of late Whitley had been disappearing a lot at night, and the number of White Death attacks have been increasing... ah don't be stupid Neon.

"She isn't wrong Flynt, today is a big day," I said, interrupting their conversation.

"I know, but it's Whitley's business, we can't hold a grudge against him for doing something like training a little harder," Flynt countered.

I watched as Ilia's scales changed colors, showing a change in mood, but they didn't turn red. They changed to a shade of blue, showing that she was sad.

"Ilia, what's wrong," I asked, trying to derail the conversation that was clearly starting to heat up.

"It's nothing you need to worry about." her whole mood seemed to shift after saying this, as we watched her sit down on her bed facing away from us.

We looked at one another silently asking each other what we should do in this scenario. I gesture toward her trying to tell him to provide some form of comfort because she clearly needed it. He got the signal and sat next to her, rubbing her shoulder in a comforting manner trying to tell her without words that everything was going to be fine. We sat like this for a few minutes, not a single word exchanged.

Like a saving grace, Whitley opened the door to the bathroom and walked out - hair still wet - like nothing had happened to disrupt his peaceful rest. He scanned the room trying to understand what had happened in the few minutes he had been showering.

"The hell I miss?" he asked.

Ilia stood from her bed and crashed into him, capturing him in a tight hug.