The Vytal Tournament is essentially the most-watched televised event in all of Remnant, and can probably be pretty accurately compared to the Olympics in our world. You have young hunters-in-training competing against each other in insane, arena-destroying fights and displaying awesome powers as they try to prove they're the most promising trainee of their generation. The tourney fighters are undoubtedly going to amass supporters, and more importantly- fanbases-

So how do your characters react?

From the Remnant equivalent of twitter accounts dedicated to a specific part of their body to the youngin's that look at them with wide-eyes in the streets, how do your characters react to this fame? What do you think is going to be their likeliest (or unlikeliest) addition of groups to their fanbases? And most importantly, how do they choose to interact with them all?

Prism blinks as Azure launches herself up into the rafters of the gymnasium, raising one eyebrow - there is... very little she'd be able to do from there. The first couple notes she plucks on her guitar have an odd ring to them, before a chill runs up her spine, and a familiar low despair begins to manifest itself in her mind. High, odd, and lonely, it reminds her of high places and rooftop edges and a baby bird who couldn't fly yet so it wouldn't be- wouldn't be-

It has to be her semblance

Prism lets a oddly blank expression settle over her face. The only warning Azure would get would be the brief straightening of her posture as her wings flare wide as massive updraft propels her into the air and her wings become a blue-green blur. She reverses the position of her glaive as she rises, pointing the butt of her glaive at Azure - and promptly buries her new teammate in a rain of sniper amunition.

She's fucking sitting in the rafters, she's not gonna be able to dodge that easily.

Combat Log:
Sniper Shot (3 x 7%, as many as desired land)

Combat Stats:
Aura: 100%
Hawk's Eye: 2/5

Silently closing the door behind her, Prism's reaching for her miniturized camera before she even finished sweeping the room. It's pretty damn barren, not even a window or a potted plant. But the faces all over the walls, offiical-looking people - Prism might not recognize any of them, but Mordred or another Royale family member might, so they're worth recording.

After circling the room to the beat of the quiet click of her camera, Prism moves on to shuffle through the papers on the desk. It takes some digging through the bulk on the paperwork, but after sorting through a list of fight ring participants and other fluff, she eventually finds-

Bingo!

Donaters.

Prism smiles to herself as she raises her camera to take a photo of the paperwork, mentally noting the names. G. Bourbon. K. Hart. PM. The Royale Organization. The Royale Organization doesn't have a listed cause or use for their contributions like the rest of the donaters did, but an amount of Lien that's enough to make Prism's head spin has been donated- which was exactly what Mordrid was looking for. Finding evidence of the fight ring's illicit siphoning and funding from the rich family this quickly wasn't anticipated, but hell if she'd complain

There's still the matter of the other contributers though- she can swear she's seen those initials before. GB, KH, PM... She'd seen them, in at least one of the other papers-

It takes another moment of rooting from where she'd let the papers scatter, but on the sheet listing the fighting ring participants, the initials next to the fighters matched up with the donors.

Prism snaps a final quick photo, about to go back to searching through the papers to see if there was any important information she missed - before the sound of footsteps reach her ears as her eyes jerk up towards the door, and silently drops herself down and crawls beneath the desk, pressing herself to the very back of the footspace underneath.

Azure brings her attack to life in a literal lightshow. The guitar's startup is beyond flashy, with the blades of the apparent guitaraxe sliding into place with a quiet schlick. The wolf faunus' bond with her weapon is obvious as her aura begins to crackle to life around the weapon, stained with faint dark particles that the sniper's sharp eyes catch and recognize with...gravity, dust, probably. Prism will give her credit in the fact that she's quick - the loading of the dust crystal and the riff she plays through before her attack takes mere seconds - but as her guitar lights up, there's just one fault to her attack-

What's coming couldn't be more obvious.

Prism springs into action as the wave of fire comes her way. It takes three quick steps and a powerful leap as the blunt end of her glaive digs into the ground with a strong push, vaulting over the wave of fire with a neat frontflip as her glaive wips up to follow her. She lands with a quick clack, the two-time sound of her heels coming down as she bends her knees to absorb the shock, before standing upright as if nothing ever happened. "Not bad. Powerful, but I can see that coming from a mile away. Next, please." She chirps, smiling patiently at her new teammate.

She hasn't even taken off her jacket yet, either.

Combat Log:
Standing Idle

Statistics:
Aura: 100%
Hawk's Eye: Glaive mode, 5/5

"Good to see ya' too, Lumen."

Chantou only lazily turns her head to greet the woman, a lazy smile on her face despite the rude interruption of her warm, sunny afternoon. Despite the upperclassman's grumpiness, the weather has put her into too-good a mood to let anything spoil it - so all she does is shift her feet off the dashboard to sit up, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Don't ya' think you're bein' a bit presumptuous there? I still wouldn't be attendin' the school this far into the semester if I weren't doin' the work, y'know?"

"N' hey, if I wanna kill my lungs, let me do it on my own jurisdiction. We're trainin' to the save the world and fight monsters everyday, we gotta relax when we can - n' that what's your doin' out here as well, aren'tcha?"
'

Symbolism plays an important role in the RWBY-verse, where so many characters are based off of colors, story book characters, and when a person's literal superpower is a symbolic representation of their personality. Where characters literally wear symbols that are supposed to represent themselves as a whole.

But beyond the very obviouos, what sort of running themes do you have for your characters? Does it reflect them as a whole, or is it part of a much larger thematic destiny for gour OCs? Rant away - large responses are encouraged!

Interesting character tidbit inspired by the concept of losing limbs: are you characters right-handed or left-handed? How does it influence their fighting style? Can y’all tell I’m a bit bored?

Prism like to consider herself a realist.

She didn't’ consider the future a positive place, she knew she had to make it a positive place. It was only thanks to her relentless desire to preserve what remained of the legacy of her family she’d gotten into the first place. Endless sleepless nights, with sewing commissions and extra shifts and so many wasted bullets turning herself into cutthroat sniper. Turning the insomniac hours into semblance training, teaching herself to fly in a form that wasn’t just falling off a cliff more slowly and actually controlling where she went-

She’d survived off the concept of a dream for nearly five years, and in the very end she’d made that dream a reality.

So now, securing her place as a semifinalist in the Vytal Festival and having professional hunters reach out to her, asking to sponsor her and become their prodigy-

Well, she could consider the future a positive place. Just this once, she could see the real potential opening up before her.

At least that’s what she let herself think for a single golden moment, before Hunter suddenly starts pacing the kitchen like the place is on fire, recruiting her to help clean the place up. She only snorts to herself as she pushes her chair back, standing to her feet and gathering their now-empty bowls from the table. “I’m assuming this wasn’t exactly discussed with your wife ahead of time?”