A Huntsman-in-training with a powerful Semblance (RWBY)

On the morning of Beacon's initiation, Atrament Vellum woke up at 5:57 AM, three minutes before his alarm went off. He had to admit to himself that he was excited. Being a Huntsman just like his mother had always been his dream and Beacon was the next step to achieve that dream. Still, he wasn't in quite yet—the 20-year-old man had to pass the Initiation first, and it wouldn't do for him to rest on his laurels. He was tall and lean, but still muscular—the body of a man who had trained his whole life to fight the Creatures of Grimm that plagued Remnant. His skin was naturally pale, contrasting sharply with his short black curls and his dark blue eyes. His face was sharp, with aristocratic features, and often remained impassive.

After a quick but thorough shower, Atrament went to his wardrobe and started to dress, slowly and methodically. Firstly, his underwear. Then, his dress shirt, off-white with a slight yellow tinge—the color of parchment. The shirt was heavier than it looked due to the chainmail woven inside the fabric—having his Aura absorb blows was nice and all, but not needing to spend it on protection was even better, and chainmail allowed him to be armored without having to sacrifice mobility. Atrament might have large Aura reserves compared to the average Huntsman his age, but they weren't unusually large either, and he preferred not to spend a drop more than he needed. Then came his dress pants, of a dark blue reminiscent of ink, the same color as his eyes. His tailcoat was the same color. His tie came next, a much brighter blue, still reminiscent of ink—the color of his Aura. Atrament's emblem was embroidered on the tie in black—a stylized quill with an ink drop at the bottom. Atrament then put on his black knee-high boots—also reinforced, for much the same reason as the chainmail in his shirt. Finally came the overt pieces of armor—a pair of black metallic spaulders with his emblem painted on in the same parchment color as his shirt, and a pair of black metallic bracers. One of them was a little more special than the other, and Atrament allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he put it on.

Once Atrament was fully dressed, the next step in his morning routine was weapon maintenance. Pharos Academy put a high emphasis on the need for Huntsmen and Huntresses to be able to keep their weapons functional even in the wild and Atrament's mother, Zaffre Vellum née Sepia, had fully concurred. Fine Print, his primary weapon, was currently in its spear form. It was designed to look like a giant fountain pen, black with a silvery nib that acted as the spearhead and his emblem engraved in gold. Atrament had also written his name with gold ink on the barrel, to avoid anyone trying to damage Fine Print or disarm him. His Semblance was quite useful that way. Atrament inspected the Dust slot, that he could use to apply all sorts of effects to the nib, and mechashifted the weapon to its rifle form, watching as the barrel split in two to reveal the railgun-like mechanism and the nib lowered to below the barrel, becoming a small bayonet. Satisfied, Atrament mechashifted Fine Print back in its spear form and laid it on the ground. He had disassembled it, cleaned its components and reassembled it the day before, and he did not need to do it again.

Next was his secondary weapon, Leonine Clause. Atrament lifted his left forearm and looked at the bracer that was on it. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he watched as the blade hidden inside it jumped out. Atrament was not primarily a close-quarter fighter—Fine Print, as a polearm, was designed to keep enemies at bay and the rifle form would pick them up one by one from medium and close range—it was not a sniper rifle, after all. However, if an enemy managed to slip past his guard and get to grappling distance, they would be in for quite a nasty surprise. Leonine Clause did not have any special feature. It was meant as a stealth weapon to surprise his foes, and it did not need to be overengineered.

His inspection complete, Atrament retracted the blade and went to take his breakfast. In the hallway, he walked past a text calligraphed on the wall: Atrament's apartment. This text marked his ownership of the apartment to anyone who saw it, thanks to his Semblance, Written Ownership. Atrament had experimented quite a lot with it with the help of his mother, and he had managed to map out a list of rules his Semblance followed:

1. If Atrament writes his name on something, then anyone that sees the name believes that he owns that thing and won't have a problem with that. They will in fact believe that that thing has always belonged to him, and they will feel like they have been using his property without permission if they were the original owners of that thing. Note that, although people will see Atrament's name as proof of ownership, they won't realize it is its source. Written Ownership consumes some of Atrament's Aura when he writes his name, how much depending on the size and complexity of what he's trying to claim, and will fail if not enough Aura is available. It doesn't require any Aura beyond the initial cost, however.
2. Atrament can do anything he wants with his properties, even things that are illegal or seen as immoral, and no one will see anything wrong with it. They might view his actions as impolite or uncouth, but they will still believe he is in the right, even if he's an asshole about it. If Atrament owns a location, he can implement any rule he wants and people will have to follow them as long as they are in that location.
3. Written Ownership works on anything with a surface to write on: objects, locations and even people. Atrament owning people will not be seen as immoral or a violation of human rights. However, trying to claim people will require either overwhelming their own Auras (which means it works best when they're weakened or on civilians without unlocked Auras) or the person consciously letting it happen (which can happen through trickery: they only need not to focus their Auras to block the effect, they don't have to know precisely what is going on). There is one exception Atrament had found however: Written Ownership doesn't work on Grimms.
4. People Atrament owns will obey all of his orders without issue. As they believe they belong to him, they will immediately stop doing anything without his permission. That includes any body function that can be consciously controlled, such as breathing. That had been scary to discover, when Atrament's mother allowed him to claim her and immediately stopped breathing. Fortunately, the Semblance's effects were reversible.
5. If someone Atrament owns writes his name on something, that will trigger Written Ownership just as if he wrote his name himself, although the person writing will have to shoulder the Aura cost. If someone Atrament doesn't own writes his name on something with a writing apparatus that belongs to him, it will work as well and the Aura cost will once again be on the writer. However, if someone Atrament doesn't own writes his name on something with a writing apparatus that isn't his, then Written Ownership won't trigger.
6. Atrament's name doesn't need to be directly seen to take effect. Seeing a picture of it works just as well, as long as the person seeing it knows what it is (for example, someone seeing a picture of Atrament's name written on a wall would only recognize the ownership if they were told in which apartment this wall was. If they were lied about the picture's origin, then the person seeing it would not believe Atrament owned whatever house they were told he owned).
7. The belief of Atrament's ownership spreads virally: anyone who believes that he owns something will convince everyone he talks to that he is indeed the owner. However, Atrament himself cannot convince people that he owns something merely with his words.
8. Atrament can claim part of a thing by writing Atrament's {part he wants to claim}. Doing so lowers the Aura cost relative to the size and complexity of what he wants to claim. He doesn't need to write on the part he wants to claim either; it will work as long as he writes on the thing he wants to claim. Atrament can use it to claim someone in steps: owning someone's hand requires him to overwhelm only as much Aura as they are circulating in that hand and, once he owns the hand, he can write his name on it to claim the person whole and order them not to circulate Aura in that hand to resist the claiming.
9. Atrament can claim something that is metaphysical or conceptual in the same way as the previous point. For example, writing Atrament's beliefs on someone will claim their beliefs, which he can then override. However, unlike trying to claim a physical part of something or someone, claiming a metaphysical part will sharply drive up the Aura cost.
10. If Atrament's name is erased from something he owns, then he will no longer own it. Since people are unaware that his name is the source of his ownership, they won't try to erase it. Atrament can use some of his Aura to make the name permanent, like a tattoo of some sort, but it requires a lot of Aura. So far, he had only done it twice: on Fine Print and on his apartment. He can also undo the permanence of the mark with a far lesser Aura cost.
11. Once Atrament no longer owns something, it will revert automatically to its legitimate owner. However, they will not see anything wrong with Atrament's previous ownership, or with the actions he partook in with what was at the time his property.

Atrament knew the contents of that list by heart, but had never written it down. Even his mother hadn't been told everything he could do. After all, he wasn't stupid and could realize how potentially powerful his Semblance was, and he did not want any trace of it to be anywhere outside of his own brain. Some might call him paranoid; Atrament would call himself methodical. There was no need to put it on paper, as he had an excellent recollection, and however negligible the risks were, they were not inexistant. Fortunately, the use of his Semblance did not share the same issues, thanks to Written Ownership's normalizing effect. Still, he had not abused its power beyond the mischief typical among teenagers. Not that he had not been tempted—Atrament was a straight young man, and would not pretend he had a keen appreciation for feminine beauty. But he had never succumbed to temptation—not yet. He would not pretend he would never. Atrament was only human, after all.

As he ate his breakfast, his scroll flashed with an incoming message. It was from his father, the lawyer Crimson Vellum. Atrament was surprised—he and his father had quite a row in his second year at Pharos, after his mother's death. Both Atrament and Crimson knew intellectually that Huntress was a dangerous job, but it was easy to get out of their minds while seeing the larger-than-life Zaffre. But reality had a way to catch up to everyone in the end, and the Grimms as well. The funeral had to be a close-casket one, as not every body part was recovered. This did not deter Atrament—he knew that his mother had saved thousands of people before her death, and he wanted to spare as many as possible the heartbreak of burying a family member. Crimson, on the other hand, simply did not want to see his son meet the same fate. The two men had a heated row after the ceremony, both said things they didn't mean and Atrament moved out of the family home. Neither had apologized afterwards; Crimson was too proud and Atrament did not believe he was fundamentally in the wrong, even if he had to acknowledge that his words were too far.

Atrament opened his scroll and read the message. It was not an apology, not that he expected it to be, but only three words: Please come back. Some might read it as insulting, as Crimson asking his son to not do it and to give up on his dreams, but Atrament knew his father, knew what he meant: please come back alive from your training, from your missions. Don't make me bury my son like I buried my wife. Atrament replied with three words as well: I will try. He could not promise his dad that he would not die, but he would do his best to survive. In the end, that was all he could do.

Once his breakfast was over, Atrament took his luggage and his weapons, and left the apartment to go to the Airship that would take him to his future (hopefully) Huntsman Academy. Destiny awaited him.