[RWBY] RWBY Shorts

[mgl1206]

Starscream and Cinder blaming each other for their plots going wrong?

Click to shrink...

"You have failed me once again Cinder Fall. Pray tell, why exactly should I keep you around? I think you would do far better as a test subject for Knockout." Megatron asked. His voice calm despite the anger contained within it.

"Oh, that would be lovely!" Knockout exclaimed. "I've just been dying to see how this aura of theirs works beneath the hood." And who could really blame him? While not particularly impressive when it comes to the magnitude of their effects. The effects of this 'aura' these fleshes possessed were rather remarkable.

Some of their effects going so far as to bend reality itself at a localized level. He'd been particularly interested in one individual who was capable of manipulating the metaphysical concept of luck in an area around himself. If he could uncover the mechanism through which these semblances worked and somehow give it to Cybertronians?

Well, let's just say he'd more than earn Lord Megatron's fav-

*WOHMFP"

He was suddenly pulled out from his daydreaming when his optic sensors were suddenly engulfed in an inferno of flame setting off multiple warnings. With a shout he found himself stumbling backwards, caught off guard by the sudden and scorching heat of the fire. Which quickly dissipated, revealing the human vermin who had thrown flames at him. Flames whic-

"MY PAINT!" Knockout suddenly shouted as he looked down at his chest. His beautiful red paint! It was ruined!

"Why you vermin! I should dissect you right now!" He shouted, his right arm transforming into a drill as he prepared to bring it down upon the fleshy vermin who'd dared to burn his paint.

Suddenly his tantrum was interrupted by an amused chuckle. Knockout felt the energon in his system freeze as he realized just who had laughed. Slowly he turned to see Lord Megatron laughing, his earlier anger gone.

"That will be enough Knockout. I am sure our guest is more than aware of the consequences of failure. After all, the Decepticons do not tolerate failure." This was, Cinder realized, without a doubt an ultimatum. Megatron could tolerate failure from a decepticon against the Autobots especially if they weren't easily replaceable. But the psychotic machine had no such inhibition when it came to those whom he saw as lesser than other Cybertronians.

"Of course, Lord Megatron." Cinder bowed. Making no attempt to grovel or bargain. She was well aware that was a luxury allowed only to that nitwit Starscream, perhaps he found the whole display amusing, and that was why he so often managed to survive what 20 other Cybertronians combined didn't.

"Then you are dismissed." With that, Cinder turned and made her way off the bridge, ignoring the furious glare from the medic con as she went. Her thoughts already occupied with her plan for Vale. It would have to be stepped up a notch if she wanted to keep her head. Brothers knew, that Salem didn't care enough to stand up for her.

———

A/N: idk what happened, I was going to involve Starscream somewhere but then Knockout came outta nowhere and stole the whole show lol.

Any way, tried to mesh TFP and RWBY a bit. Basically Megatron and Salem have a tenuous working relationship and Cinder was sent to "assist" Megatron. Not that they ever would. Megatron would hate working with anything human and Salem probably doesn't give a shit. If anything they'd work against each other for the relics.

 

[CountvonBarnOwl]

Secretly nerdy Yang is best Yang

Click to shrink...

True, Yang having these hidden sides to her as a result of her quickly having to grow up are great narrative fun. Anyway, here is a thing that I did not wish to post in the midst of Dragonslayer week because it was not Dragonslayer-related.

---

How It Happened – Cyber-Whitley Part 2



Sleep, in his state, had proven impossible, and existing, being cognizant was an experience of such like that no words existed to truly describe. But approximately, it was absolute darkness. And yet it held more in common with the afterimage and memory of light that comes to a man's vision when he shuts his eyes too tightly.



Whitley could, for want of a better term, feel his whole body in this endless ocean that only vaguely recalled light. He could feel fingers that must have been burned and broken off curl, and limbs that he no longer had would move according to an alien logic that he felt did not shift what passed here for his position.



First, Whitley tried exercising within his own mind, learning to move his inner limbs. His left arm came first. And then his right. His abdomen came last, following his legs and toes. A roll of his neck and he was half-swimming half-gliding in the endless black with nothing but the flickering memory of light to guide him.



The feeling of floating, flying, and gliding was, for what it was, euphoric. Soon Whitley was cutting through the void in a reclined half-sitting pose with his legs leading the way, at least, that was the best description of his posture and sensations, or his memories of posture and sensation, that he could apply.



After a while, it ceased to amuse him. And he was forced to, once again, confront the nature of his situation. A brain in a jar, though Amzel took umbrage with the insinuation. So many experiences were forever denied to him. He'd never eat food again. Sleep would probably be an ordeal in and of itself, and as pedestrian as this foremost concern was, he would never quote-unquote 'get laid.' Not only had he forever failed to secure the foremost objective and concern of everybody thereabouts of his age, he'd never be a father. Meaning that the Schnee bloodline would have to continue via his sisters.





Whitley did not need to imagine his sisters' responses. As soon as the thought came up the nails-on-chalkboard cacophony of Weiss' filled every corner of the black expanse. Whitley gritted his teeth in raw anger and prepared to shout for all he was worth when the picture of his other sister popped into his head.



Mercifully, the thought of Winter deafened and diminished the laughter immediately. The less that Whitley focused on the sibling that thought him as a pest, and the more he focused on the sibling that was a near-complete stranger to him. The more the laughter abated, only to be replaced by the cutting chill of Winter's namesake.



She had broken off contact with him years ago when she first left for Atlas. The finger-count of conversations that they had since then were more in the nature of conversations with the Schnee family as a unit, and Winter's team. And Whitley had half-forgotten the substance of each as little besides polite perfunctory and a trio of aspirants trying to make a little kid feel included. "Great, this is my life now." He muttered, 'not that it could correctly be called a life.' He added, more silently.



And in the wake of that silence, he noticed something. He controlled the expanse. The void responded to him. A hypothesis was forming in his head, and he could feel the void around him contorting to oblige it. He could not see, but sense streams of thought flowing, down from upward, always relative to the orientation of what he perceived to analogize his body.



An experiment then. He needed certainty. Trying to will himself back into happiness might be worth a shot.



"Weeeeee-e-eeheheheee… hahahaha…" Whitley was walking on air, or rather, he was gliding through an endless froth of his own euphoria again.



Perhaps he had been a touch too successful. But this proved one thing, he could regulate his mood manually. Whitley Schnee had a natural knack for doing this. Putting his emotions in a box and sticking them in some proverbial cognitive closet before fetching them as his rational mind deemed them needed. Now he could go even further. He could make and unmake his emotions as-needed. His next test of this came by plunging himself into misery and, as soon as he could muster up the will to mobilize himself, yanking himself back up into joy before cutting all of the threads into neutral.



This was astonishing. This was baffling. This was confounding…



Like that, Whitley conceived of a test far more devious and final. One that should push his apparent mastery of his mind to the utmost.



He held in his mind first the image of his father, Jacques. He immersed himself in the permanent basecoat of unease and quiet, skittish fear, mixed with the more overt terror and dread he felt at the man's ever-present displeasure. Legitimate admiration at the deft competence with which Jacques, climbed into his current station and kept ahead of both the world's Dust markets and the very long, long list of people who wanted him dead was befouled by the stink of love's decaying corpse and cast over by the shadow of affection, Whitley rationally understood that it was mere pittance, and entirely counterfeit at that, but it was a truer and more abundant love than he had ever received from anyone or anywhere else.



Whitley mimicked breathing and, while holding the memory of Jacques clearly in his mind dismantled those feelings one by one as easily as he might have tapped the backspace button on his Scroll.



He rebuilt those feelings, and then destroyed them again. He banished Jacques from his mind but held the feelings. He held Jacques before and around him, but did not permit himself to feel anything for the man.



He discarded his thoughts of Jacques entirely and moved onto Willow. His feelings with regards to her were much simpler. Disappointment at a woman who had spent most of his life face down in a ditch full of vodka.



Winter was equally simple. Family in name only. The two had not had anything to do with one another since she set out for Atlas at 17. That was… eight years ago? It hardly mattered. All of the frigidity between them when they had last seen each other, all of the arguments between himself and Weiss where Winter always took her sister's side. All of those moments of fear at the silent, disinterested contempt of an Aura-wielder, like being trapped with the crocodiles at the zoo, Whitley submerged himself in the feelings of his childhood before flicking them off and on and off and on again as though he were playing with a light switch.



Then came the ultimate trial. To prove to himself that he had it in him, if nothing else, Weiss. His younger older sister. He didn't remember how it started. Whitley could no longer remember exactly when he and Weiss had started building that pit between themselves. Nor could he remember a time when both of them were not fanning the flames that spewed from it as if their lives depended on it. That stuck-up, conceited, moronic, self-righteous cunt could kill him at a moment's notice. She could pierce his heart, open his throat, or split him from gullet to groin the minute she decided he was worth the bother. He knew that, she knew that, he knew that she knew that, and she knew that he knew that she knew that he knew that. Whitley, on the other hand, could only be smug and insolent when he dared. And he had built the mask he wore for most of his early adolescence no that fact, having long ago made peace with the fact that at the very least, he'd earn a disfigurement for his trouble.



There was a crackling, dark fire that rose up inside of him every time he thought of Weiss. And even now, it was radiating through the expanse, baking his every thought with incandescent rage.



And in the next instant, it was all gone. Gone. Gone like a bad dream. He could picture her ponytail and her singing voice without adding some remark about the former's level of maturity or calling the other overrated. He could admit to himself at least here in his own head, that on the merits, his sister was an excellent singer. Not that he would ever enjoy hearing anything from her except for silence. But he could objectively, and without resorting to insults to make himself feel better, unequivocally acknowledge a genuine accomplishment of a person he hated.



Then, in the distance, they appeared. Green-white streams that looked like waves breaking on rocks, these too pouring down from some utmost summit could be seen in the reaches of the expanse's distance. As they closed in Whitley permitted curiosity to overtake fear as he was enveloped.



And then came the light.



Light, shapes, the glare from the ceiling light above him. Color. Whitley had again found light and color. Whites and sterile gray-blues of the walls and ceiling ahead of him were contrasted with the darker gray of the floor, and the off-gray/green of whatever metal slab or tilted dais he had been propped up on. More than that, Whitley saw people.



He could see in depth, and he could see in detail, it felt like he had two eyes again, two eyes more powerful than those he had been born with by a factor of at least ten. The periphery of his vision was filled with a heads-up display. A translucent blue circle that pinged with little red blips every time someone in the room moved near the bottom left, a small pictogram of a white-green head atop a grayed out human body on the bottom right, and scrolling words across the top that read 'Stark Arms ATCE: Activate. Unit integrity = Green. Hardened neural uplink = Green. Hardened processor uplink = Not Found… Retrying… Not Found… Retrying… Not Found… Continuing startup without processor unit. Switching to Internal CPU… Internal Processor… = Green. Subroutine check 1… Green. Subroutine check 2… Green. Sonar uplink = Green. CCT uplink = Green = Radar uplink = Not Found. Video recorder = Active. Black box = Active…' And on it went.



"So, tell me, Warrant Offizier, did you enjoy the flight over?" The question, put to him in the accented voice of General Amzel, pulled his attention from the readout. It had come from the rightmost man of the assembled crowd, a man about his father's age or a few years senior, but in much better shape. Gaunt faced, he had eerie blue eyes and a gray beard at odds with the bright orange curls poking out from under his officer's cap. He had a crescent-shaped scar that traced the outline of his left eye socket, starting at the cheek, running up his nose, and curling around over his eyebrow. Strapped to his waist Whitley noted a sawn-off shotgun about the length of the man's upper leg, and a thick, heavy sawback blade folded over an S-shaped handle and fixed to it with a sturdy looking hinge.



"I kept myself entertained." Whitley responded. "You must be General Amzel." He inclined his head. The eyebrow that the general's scar wrapped around went up. "Amzel, sir. Where are my manners. I guess the journey had me out of sorts, your pardon, sir." Whitley reiterated. That was right. Military rules, decorum, and bearing would be expected, going forward.



Amzel nodded. "As your general officer let me be the first to welcome you to the Jotun Complex, home of the Special Construction Training Corps, of which you are now a part, and classified, off-the-record projects of beyond-next-generation warfare, which, you are."



"I was hoping you could tell me about that." Whitley pressed. "What exactly will I be working on?" He couldn't exactly move. He could only speak certain thoughts through some sort of a microphone attached below his eyes, or cameras, he supposed.



"You will be assisting us in developing the next generation of military exoframes." Amzel explained. "Very fortunate for all parties involved. You could imagine the difficulty of finding somebody banged up enough to test a full cybernetic conversion body, and not a single wounded soldier we found was willing to accept the risks of full conversion over a mere cybernetic prosthesis. Being blown to smithereens in the middle of Atlas, as you had been, saved us from shelving the whole project. And of course, you get to live." The general added as an afterthought.



Exoframes. Full cybernetic bodies piloted by brains in life support units. It was a discussion of considerable frequency in the various online forums in his areas of interest. Technology and economic boards, for instance, things that lent him insight into the social media marketing teams' blind spots often speculated about them. Business strategy too. That bunch was waiting on a signal for early investment. Some sign that something was going to slip out of the bowels of an R&D startup or a military research institute and into broad daylight.



While this told him where he would be allocating his pocket change, the wildest speculation came from the wildcatting forums. That was where the results of backyard and rooftop experiments not known for control group quality, intermixed with anecdotes of dubious sobriety and veracity, were reported and speculated on. Suggestions and comments were deposited, and results were compared with the hopes of conjuring up the next standardized Grimm-stopper.



Whitley found discussing these things as a means to de-stress in the late hours, and had begun forming his own theories on the matter, enough for mild participation in some theories about how to squeeze the magical 5.5 kilojoules at the muzzle necessary to guarantee a one-shot to the body on any common Grimm the world over out of an intermediate cartridge, one that could cycle through the standard assault rifles and carbines of the world without compromising on the fire rate or accuracy, but could match the battle, survival, scouting, sporting, and everyday carry rifles that made life outside Remnant's biggest walled cities possible for anyone besides a Huntsman.



The particular sort of speculation, of pushing the limits of weapons, only bore the most tangential relevance here, but he enjoyed ruminating on it.



Whitley cut that thread of reminiscence when he noticed the stares. "Excellent. Where may we begin? I cannot move anything but my head at the moment." He announced with all of the glib of his father.



"We will begin with this." The general said, as he produced what looked like a computer's circuit board or a graphics card. "This is the Apogee system. It is the key to the Infantry Cybernetic Exoframe project. It is also the other half of your cranial housing."



"Other half?" Whitley asked.



"A security measure," Amzel replied. "Your casing's processor is only half-complete, barely functional, and hardly running on anything more than the static electricity of your brain. The other half of the computer itself is right here. And it represents the foundation stone of the entire ICE project. It never left Jotun-2"



"I see," Whitley replied. "Capabilities?"



"Theoretically, it will close the Aura Gap." Amzel replied without missing a beat.



"Closing the Aura Gap?" Whitley replied again, certain that if he still had a tongue, it would be dripping with physical incredulity.



The Aura Gap was the raw, nigh insurmountable difference in combat power, mobility, versatility, and adaptation that an asset with Aura had over an asset without. An individual Huntsman or Specialist couldn't be brought down by a normal soldier. Ideally, you had to match them on even footing, with your own Aura, or send somebody who could. Failing that, a company, armor, walkers, and with air support on standby would be the instrument of choice in bringing down an Aura wielder. And that was no sure thing. A battalion would not be out of line if none of them had Aura or Semblances of their own depending on the circumstances.



An Aura-user could outmatch and out-maneuver infantry, could out-think machines, could outflank armor and artillery, or could pluck gunships from the sky, and that didn't even fully encompass the X-factor that was the Semblance.



"You would pardon my skepticism, Sir." Whitley replied.



"HAH!" The General laughed back. "Skepticism is always welcome in the halls of science, Warrant Offizier. But I promise, this Neural Processor will give you an edge over all but the greatest of Aura wielders."



Whitley minded the taxonomy. Neural Processor. Thy typical cortical implant that was called a Neural Uplink.



"So, it is a second brain then, one that would sync to me?" Whitley hazarded a guess.



"Nothing so anemic, Whitley, if two brains outthinking one was all it took to surmount the Aura Gap, it would not exist. Do you know how fast information travels via the nervous system?"



"I cannot say that I do, General, no." Whitley replied…



"Thirty-five meters per second," Amzel answered, "and would you care to guess how much information that the human brain can process in a second?" He followed up without missing a beat.



"A gigabyte, maybe?" Whitley offered a completely arbitrary figure.



"Not even close." The General taunted. "Ten bits. Ten bits on average, of the one hundred and twenty-five megabytes of information your body absorbs in that same time. The theoretical maximum of an average brain is around sixty, but genetic aberrations who can do seventy or eighty are not unknown to medical literature."



"Now, Warrant Offizer, tell me. Doesn't that sound pathetic compared to your brain's two-and-a-half petabytes of memory? Your eighty-six billion neurons connected with each other a hundred trillion times over? They don't sound like they're doing too much, do they?"



"No, sir." Whitley responded. The two-point-five petabyte figure was a bit more commonly known and Whitley was priorly aware of it.



"Inside those thirteen hundred cubic centimeters of brain, you have enough storage space to index the whole CCTnet. Three hundred million hours of audio-video information." Amzel was building to something.



"So, what would you do if you could run your brain as though it were such a magnificent computer in truth? Hmm?" The general finished as he jiggled the device in front of Whitley's cyber optics.



"What would I do indeed?" Whitley assented. "So how much more processing power does it give me?"



"Suppose, for instance, that you could process nearly point-seven-two gigabytes per second, And, perceive two hundred and fifty-six. Would you consider that impressive?"



"I would." Whitley replied. "The raw sensory data and computational prowess would be unmatched." The advantage was self-evident. Information asymmetry. To know in an instant, to solve for so many of the small, incalculable variables of every heartbeat… Such a device would let even someone such as himself anticipate anything that even a Huntsman could do, and therefore counter, before the follow-through.



The only problem, Whitley noted, was the absence of reaction time. All the planning in the world would amount to nothing if it could not alter the inevitable. History, and even modern life were so full of men who thought they could overcome death, the Grimm, or plain human fallibility only to make utter asses of themselves in the attempt. Unless…



"Spectacular, General. But I see a single problem." Whitley admitted.



"Oh, do tell," the general replied, playful mischief in his voice seemingly confirming the growing suspicion in Whitley's head.



"Transmission speed, all of the information in the world does no good if it comes too lately to be acted upon. If, for instance, I know in advance where, say, an Aura-infused Dust blade will come from, that will not help me dodge or deflect it in the least, unless I know far enough in advance to move first. And against Huntsman-level enemies, the timeliness window closes quickly. But I assume you brought up neurological transmission speed first for a reason." Whitley surmised, watching as the general's smile broadened and his eyes narrowed to pinpricks.



"Excellent, excellent, Warrant Offizier. Exactly." The general replied, as his voice shot up in pitch. "Thirty-five meters per second is not satisfactory. Not for the amount of information that you're processing, and absolutely nowhere near any good for the time in which you will need to act. So instead of the usual pseudo-nerves, we're using a special sort of high tensile strength fiber optic cables. Do you know how fast information passes through fiber optic cables?"



"Near-instant." Whitley said. "Nearly." The General affirmed. "Sixty-six-point-sieben percent lightspeed, to be exact. Mach five hundred und eighty-three thousand. Two-hundred-thousand kilometers per second. Your reaction speed will be five-point-seven million," the general's tone went low as he whispered his emphasis lowing himself to the camera that Whitley was looking at him through, until he saw nothing but the madness that shone in his moon-scarred eye, "times that of a normal human."



Whitley was sure that if he had eyes left to bulge or pop at the sheer scope of the number as it set in, they would have. Had he still a heart, it would be firing like an engine. And he was sure that his brainwave activity was going wild on whatever monitor that they were using to pay attention to that.



Then he remembered that it was within his power to calm himself manually. He commanded his excitement to ebb. Not all at once, but it drained. And at the trough of neutrality, Whitley noticed another detail that euphoria would have otherwise flung him over.



"And my brain? My cognitive processes are still confined to the limits of my organic hardware." Whitley responded. "None of these proverbial hardware updates will improve on the hard limits of my own brain."



"Ordinarily not, but the difference between the Apogee system and every neural processor uplink and every other cortical implant is perfect integration. You see, the amniotic fluid on the inside of your brain case is not only nutrient rich, and fully oxygenated, it is full of superconducting colloidal fibers. In time these microparticles will become stuck to, and fuse with, your neural dendrites. This will allow your nerves to send and receive signals faster. Moreover, the inside wall of your brain case has a number of fibrous protrusions of the same material that will enable the computer system to share cognitive processing and load data. In short, the Apogee unit, once installed and fully integrated will not so much as process the data for you, as it will become an extra lobe or superstructure for your organic brain. The upside is that with each fluid replacement, your own brain's processing and reaction times should compound. The downside is that with each fluid replacement, the line between your brain and the machine will blur, and eventually cease, with the module becoming as much a part of your brain as your frontal cortex, or cerebellum."



Whitley caught the caveat that General Amzel had tried to smuggle in at the end of his explanation. "So, when does my brain stop counting as an enlisted man, and start counting as military hardware or property?" He asked.



"Good question. We will see what the Project Overseer und that jurist who hides in his shadow have to say." Amzel answered, his voice flat and noncommittal. "Now, you're going to feel a lot of pressure, but you should be fine." The General said as he moved toward Whitley's casing with the Apogee unit.



'Wait,' Whitley thought, the chill of unformed panic spreading across what passed for his underside, 'Pressure is just the doctor-word for pain.'



And like that, the whole black void within his cranial housing flooded with white lightning.

---

As always, the floor is open to advice and criticism.

I do promise this is the last chapter for a while though where things end with Whitley in blinding agony.

Edit: I think I might have already posted this snippet a few weeks ago - that's what I get for posting before the caffeine kicks in - should I delete this post?

 

[AJ_Talon]

We're BACK!

---

The old Vale Clock Tower had been abandoned for years, which made it the perfect stage for a proper supervillain heist.

Eidolon (black leather, cat ears, whip coiled like an angry tail) stood on the roof at 11:58 p.m. exactly, arms crossed, foot tapping, cheeks puffed out beneath her mask in a pout that could curdle milk.

She had sent the riddle.

She had left the calling card (black paw-print on crimson cardstock).

It should have led to a night of cat and mouse!

Instead, midnight came and went.

No dramatic entrance.

No cape.

No corgi.

Just wind, the lonely tick-tock of the giant clock behind her, and the growing realization that she had been stood up.

Down on the street, a very familiar motorcycle finally roared up half an hour late. The Huntsman skidded to a halt, kicked the stand down, and ran three steps before he spotted the leather-clad figure glaring down at him from the roof like judgment in stiletto boots.

"Eidolon!" he called, waving both arms frantically. "I'm so sorry! There was this whole thing with Sun Dragon trying to steal the limited-edition Boxer-fur coat from the charity auction and—"

"You ditched me for the Lizard Bimbo?!" Eidolon shrieked, voice cracking in betrayal. "I planned a whole heist! There were lasers! I learned how to cackle properly! I practiced sultry leaning poses for three hours!"

The Huntsman winced so hard his mask squeaked. "I didn't ditch you! Crime doesn't take nights off! I'm a professional!"

"Professional jerk!" She stomped her heel. The clock gonged mournfully, as if embarrassed on her behalf.

Before Jaune could formulate the world's best superhero apology, a swirl of rose petals exploded beside him.

"Hi Huntsman! Ready for night training?" Red Reaper chirped, landing in a perfect crouch with her (definitely not Crescent Rose) scythe balanced on one shoulder. "I brought cookies! As your bestest best sidekick ever!"

Eidolon's cat ears flattened. "Oh. Oh, this is rich. Not only does he stand me up, he's off playing mentor with Little Red Riding Delinquent."

Red Reaper's silver eyes narrowed. She flipped her cape and grinned the smuggest grin in Vale.

"Yup! Official sidekick-in-training. He says I have potential. Great potential. The best potential. We're doing trust falls next week."

The Huntsman opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I said you had 'adequate' potential and only if you stopped trying to hit me with the blunt end to 'test my reflexes.'"

"Details," Red Reaper singsonged, sticking her tongue out at Eidolon. "Point is: he picked me tonight. Sucks to be the B-villain, kitty."

Eidolon's whip cracked like lightning. "That's it. You die first, then I murder him with seductive torture."

"Bring it, Cat Brat!"

They collided in a whirlwind of black leather and red cloak. Hair-pulling, cape-yanking, highly choreographed slapping, the works. The Huntsman stood frozen in horror as two of his maybe-nemeses rolled across the rooftop trying to strangle each other with their own accessories.

Wonder Zwei sat neatly on the ledge, tiny mask gleaming under the moonlight, watching like a critic at a theater.

"Arf," he offered.

"I know it's entertaining but this is demeaning!" Jaune hissed.

"Arf arf."

"They're people, not cat toys—stop encouraging them!"

Another shriek as Eidolon tried to stuff Red Reaper's head into a ventilation shaft.

Jaune groaned, marched forward, and hauled both girls apart by the scruff of their costumes exactly the way his mom used to separate fighting sisters.

"Enough!" he barked. "Eidolon, I'm sorry I missed the heist, I swear I'll let you rob something next Thursday, okay? Red Reaper, stop gloating, it's very unheroic! And both of you—apologize! Now!"

Eidolon crossed her arms, cheeks flaming under the mask. "...Sorry for trying to ventilate your sidekick."

Red Reaper kicked at the roof tiles. "Sorry for calling you a B-villain. You're at least an A-minus."

Jaune sighed the sigh of a man whose life was a sitcom written by sadists. "Better. Now shake hands—no claws, no scythe—and go home before I call both your—uh—guardians."

They shook hands with the enthusiasm of two wet cats being forced to hug. Then, in perfect synchronization, both stuck their tongues out at each other and vanished—Eidolon into the shadows, Ruby into petals.

The Huntsman sagged. Wonder Zwei trotted over and sat on his foot.

"Arf."

"Yes, I know, women are terrifying. You've mentioned."

- - -

Somewhere across town, inside a dimly lit warehouse decorated with far too many flaming torches for safety, Red Huntress (Pyrrha Nikos in a red cape and unnecessarily dramatic armor) paced in front of an elaborate death trap involving a slowly descending spiked ceiling, a pit of scorpions, and a single folding chair with "HUNTSMAN ♥" written on it in glitter pen.

She checked her scroll again. 1:17 a.m.

She had sent the invitation.

She had practiced the evil monologue.

She had even baked cookies shaped like little Huntsmen (they came out slightly charred but that was atmospheric).

Red Huntress kicked the scorpion pit and scowled so hard her goggles fogged.

"That's it. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night he is mine or I swear I will burn this entire city down looking for him."

She paused.

"...After I let the scorpions out humanely, obviously. I'm not a monster."

She stomped off.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Jaune was halfway across the Beacon courtyard when he heard the familiar engine note.

He stopped dead. Groaned. Then broke into a run.

The bright yellow-and-black sports car coasted to a smooth stop near the dorms, engine purring like it was extremely pleased with itself. Jaune skidded up beside it, planted both hands on the roof, and leaned down toward the driver's window with a mixture of affection and long-suffering dread.

"Bee… I did miss you," he said quietly. "A lot. But I'm here to become a Huntsman. To stand as a proper hero. Just like the Autobots."

The radio clicked on. A warm, familiar melody drifted out—"You've Got a Friend in Me"—soft and knowing. A second later the track cut, and the opening drums of Bonnie Tyler's "I Need a Hero" thundered to life at full volume.

Jaune laughed despite himself, resting his forehead against the cool metal for a moment. "Yeah. I appreciate it."

That was when the rest of RWBY and JNPR arrived.

Nora's eyes went huge. "JAUNE—JAUNE HAS A CAR?!"

Jaune straightened, trying for casual. "Yeah. I do."

Weiss wrinkled her nose the second she got a proper look at the paint and the slightly weathered chrome. "It's a beater for sure."

The radio immediately switched tracks. Hall & Oates' "Rich Girl" blasted out of the speakers with pointed clarity.

Weiss's eyebrows shot up so fast they nearly left her face.

Jaune coughed hard, waving a hand. "Radio's on the fritz! I, uh… I helped fix it up with my dad back home. It finally arrived—came by train, then some guy drove it the rest of the way and just… left. Which is totally normal!"

His grin was strained.

Blake, meanwhile, had crouched by the front wheel well, frowning as she examined the tires with a critical eye. "Your parents got you this? It's not even a good model of a Checker Automotive Comrada," she muttered.

The radio immediately switched. Irving Lee Dorsey's "The Kitty Cat Song" began playing in a bright, almost mocking tone.

Blake's ears flattened under her bow. She stood up slowly, expression flat. "That's very insulting."

Bumblebee, undeterred, changed tracks again. The Kinks' "Phenomenal Cat" rolled out of the speakers with cheerful, bouncing energy.

Blake's eye twitched. "I am not fat."

Weiss, who had been watching the entire exchange, suddenly laughed—an actual, unrestrained sound. "I'm rather enjoying the car radio now."

Blake shot her a look. "Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you enjoy other people's misery when it isn't aimed at you."

"I do not—"

"You absolutely do!"

While the two of them started bickeringnes, Pyrrha stepped closer to the car, studying its lines with genuine appreciation. "It's a very nice car, Jaune. I'm glad you have such skills."

Bumblebee's radio helpfully switched again. Mandy Moore's "Crush" began playing, soft and unmistakable.

Pyrrha went bright red from the collar of her uniform all the way to the tips of her ears.

Yang threw her head back and laughed. "Sounds like the car needs a tune-up. I'm totally happy to help him out!"

The song changed mid-laugh. Madonna's "Crazy for You" poured out of the speakers.

Yang's laughter died. Her face went the exact same shade of red as Pyrrha's.

Jaune grinned awkwardly and gave the driver's door a firm elbow. "Bee. Not helping."

Ruby, never one to miss an opportunity, vaulted straight into the passenger seat and started fiddling with the radio dials, smirking at the two older girls still standing outside. "I can fix that right up!"

The radio answered her with Divinyls' "Touch Myself."

Ruby froze. Then turned the brightest red of the three.

Jaune dragged a hand down his face. "I can do the work myself!"

Nora bounced on her toes. "Can we go for a ride in it?!"

Jaune eyed the group. "It would be a bit packed…"

Nora's grin turned feral. "I can ride on top!"

---

Sometime later, the yellow-and-black car hummed contentedly along a winding dirt road through the Emerald Forest. Jaune drove. Ruby sat in the passenger seat, still slightly pink. Weiss and Pyrrha occupied the back. On the roof, Nora, Ren, and Blake had claimed spots with varying degrees of dignity—Nora practically hanging off the front edge, Ren sitting cross-legged like this was perfectly normal, and Blake crouched low with one hand braced against the roof, ears still twitching from residual annoyance.

A pack of Beowolves burst from the underbrush, claws flashing—

—only for the car's headlamps to snap open like gun ports. Twin beams of concentrated energy lanced out with a sharp FOOM, and the Grimm detonated into clouds of black smoke and scattering bone fragments before anyone could even draw a weapon.

Jaune cleared his throat, staring straight ahead. "My sisters… made a few improvements."

Ruby was practically vibrating in the passenger seat, eyes sparkling, a thin line of drool threatening the corner of her mouth.

"I can't wait to work on them! This car is amazing!"

Bumblebee's radio cheerfully switched to Joe Esposito's "You're the Best."

You're the best around… nothing's gonna ever keep you down—

Jaune's forehead met the steering wheel with a soft thunk.

---

After the ride and return to Beacon, Jaune went out to check on his car a bit more... Only to find Yang leaned against the side of her yellow motorcycle, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised as she studied the sleek black-and-yellow sports car parked beside it. The late afternoon light caught the glossy paint just right.

"So, Jaune… you also named your car Bumblebee?"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, already sensing danger. "Er, well, it's kind of a... Family tradition and he-it-came with it—"

Yang's grin turned sharp and competitive. "Well! Let's see who's the best Bumblebee, hmmmm?"

Jaune's shoulders slumped. "Oh boy…" He leaned down slightly toward the car's window, voice dropping to a low mutter. "Buddy? Um… should we win? Or lose? Because I'm not sure which would be worse."

The radio inside the car crackled to life. A familiar, high-energy eurobeat track blasted out at full volume—Manual's "Gas Gas Gas"—the opening synths and driving beat practically vibrating the windows.

Jaune sighed, then straightened with a resigned smile. "All right. Let's go for it."

---

One race later…

The two vehicles rolled to a stop at the edge of the empty stretch of road outside Vale. Dust still hung in the air. Jaune stepped out of the car looking only mildly winded, while Yang climbed off her bike with her hair slightly mussed and a scowl already forming.

Jaune offered her a polite, carefully measured smile. "Good job, Yang. You almost had us a few times."

Yang's scowl deepened.

"I mean…" Jaune continued, trying for diplomacy, "I'm up for a rematch! We both need to keep getting better and improving our skills, right?"

The scowl remained.

"…I'll buy you dinner first?" he offered, a little more carefully.

Yang's eyes narrowed, but something shifted behind them. "…We'll go dancing too?"

Jaune blinked. "Sure?"

"Good." Yang pointed a finger at him. "I'll wear something nice. You'd better do the same."

"No problem?"

"GOOD!" She swung a leg back over her bike. "You're giving me a ride home after I drop off Bumblebee at the garage!"

"Sure?"

Yang revved the engine and tore off down the road, cheeks visibly red even from a distance. Jaune stood there for a long moment, staring after her, completely lost.

"…What just happened?"

The radio in the yellow-and-black car clicked on again. A smooth, unmistakable voice began singing—"I Want You…"

Jaune's face went scarlet. He spun toward the car, pointing an accusing finger.

"THAT'S NOT HELPING!"

 

[AJ_Talon]

Optimal Illusion

Emerald Sustrai had been stewing for days.

Cinder's growing interest in that dense, blond farm boy was intolerable. Jaune Arc was supposed to be a joke — a weak, talentless nobody. Yet Cinder kept watching him. Kept talking about him. Emerald decided something had to be done.

She waited until Arc was alone in one of Beacon's quieter courtyards, training with that ridiculously old sword of his. Perfect. She reached out with her Semblance, digging deep into his mind for the ultimate psychological weapon — the image of whatever hero he most admired, appearing to crush his dreams. It was hard to do, but the Aura expenditure was worth it!

What manifested made Emerald freeze.

A massive, red-and-blue robotic figure stood before Jaune in the middle of the courtyard, looking every bit like a living legend.

Jaune's eyes went wide. His sword clattered to the ground.

"!!! OPTIMUS PRIME?!"

Emerald stared. Seriously? His greatest hero is a fictional robot?

The illusion of Optimus Prime spoke in a deep, noble voice. "Yes… It is I, Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots."

Jaune looked like he was about to pass out from pure joy. "B-B-But… How? Why?! So cool…!"

Emerald rubbed her temples. He's an idiot…

She realized, with growing horror, that her knowledge of Transformers was extremely limited.

"I am here to provide guidance to you, young warrior," Optimus boomed, "You have disappointed me!"

Jaune gasped.

"NO! I'm so sorry! What-What do I do?!"

What is something he says?! Emerald racked her brain.

Optimus Prime suddenly transformed into a truck with a loud series of mechanical sounds.

Jaune blinked. "Um… I can't do that."

Emerald panicked and forced the illusion to recover.

"Understanding your limits is part of understanding yourself!" Optimus declared.

Jaune nodded seriously. "Okay, so one of my limits is that I can't turn into… well, anything, really. Us meat-people are kinda stuck in one shape."

"…Good. You're learning things about… yourself?"

Jaune's eyes shone. "Oh wow… You are wise!"

Emerald wanted to scream. He's a complete idiot…

"What else, what else?" Jaune asked eagerly.

Emerald scrambled. "'Freedom is the right of all sentient lifeforms… But what is freedom?'"

Jaune hummed and rubbed his chin.

"Oh wow, that's a hard one! I need to meditate on that… Freedom in the Rostranian tradition is the clear blue sky over you, the wind in your face, the falcon at your arm… Freedom in the Gallian tradition can involve guillotining people… I mean, sometimes. Actually that wasn't really freedom, that was a reign of terror. Endeavourian freedom is personal responsibility and being armed so you can overthrow the government if they oppress you, which I do support but I have caveats…"

Emerald's eye twitched violently. HE'S A FUCKING NERD!

Jaune continued, completely earnest. "…But I think I'd agree most with the point of view of the Classical philosophers, that true freedom is to achieve virtue and become truly sentient. Or, if you want to get technical, truly sapient, as even jellyfish could be argued to be sentient. So, I'd argue that to be truly free, you have to become a good person. Cruelty, envy, cowardice, ignorance, hatred… aren't they chains in their own right?"

Emerald stared in pure existential horror. HE'S STILL GOING?!

Jaune kept going, gesturing thoughtfully. "In that sense, freedom is both a right and a responsibility. But it's one that can be impaired by the cruelties of others — if someone puts a physical chain around your neck and forces you to do their bidding, you'll probably succumb to the metaphorical chains of cruelty and hatred much more easily. Which is why we need heroes — to break the physical chains of those around us before the metaphorical ones bite into and bind to the also-metaphorical skin."

Optimus Prime (under Emerald's increasingly strained control) nodded. "You have demonstrated… a firm foundation in understanding your task."

Jaune's eyes sparkled. "What is my task, Optimus?! Tell me! Tell me!"

Emerald's brain short-circuited. I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING!

That was the moment Cinder Fall walked into the courtyard.

She stopped dead, staring at Emerald. She walked to her side and asked in a low voice:

"…What in the world are you doing?"

Emerald muttered under her breath, "I'm trying to determine this fool's psychological weaknesses!"

Cinder raised an elegant eyebrow. "Why?"

"Miss Cinder, it's going well… I have established he's a fool!" Emerald whispered desperately. "And boring!"

Jaune looked up at the illusion, worried. "Optimus? Did I do something wrong?"

Emerald forced the illusion to finally go on the offensive. "Your task is to recognize… your extreme limitations! You are poorly prepared and arrogant! You will get yourself and your team killed if you continue on your current path!"

Cinder watched with mild interest. "…Damn."

Optimus continued, voice grave. "You have been foolish! You can't just charge ahead without thinking! You'll doom all that you love and break the heart of your mother!"

Jaune's face crumpled. He started sobbing.

"You're right, Optimus! I need to get better! I need to work harder and stop being a drag on everyone else!"

Emerald's jaw dropped. HE TOOK IT AS CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM?!

Jaune wiped his eyes, looking more determined than ever. "You're right, Optimus! I'll throw my all into it and become—become better! Thank you, Optimus! THANK YOU!"

The illusion of Optimus Prime flickered and vanished as Emerald's concentration finally shattered, Emerald and Cinder ducking behind a fountain for cover.

Jaune stood there in the courtyard, wiping his eyes and looking more motivated than he had in weeks, before he ran off.

Cinder looked at Emerald with a mix of smug amusement and genuine curiosity.

Emerald's face burned. "…W-Well I had to stay in character!"

Emerald just stared into the middle distance, questioning every life choice that had led her to this moment.

"He manifested Optimus Prime," she groaned.

Cinder patted her on the shoulder.

"Well," she said lightly, "at least now we know his psychological weakness."

Emerald looked up, hopeful. "Really?"

"Yes," Cinder replied. "He's a massive nerd with a terrifyingly functional moral compass. And somehow, that makes him even more annoying."

Emerald brightened.

Cinder smirked.

"And yet... More interesting~," she hummed, lightly biting her thumb.

Emerald groaned and buried her face in her hands.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Domestic Disturbance

Training with the Valean Police Department was supposed to be a straightforward exercise in civilian response protocols. Team RWBY and JNPR stood with a squad of officers outside a rundown trailer park, all of them in tactical gear.

Ruby adjusted Crescent Rose and glanced at the officer in full riot armor. "So… we're here to break up a domestic disturbance? What kind of disturbance?"

The officer's helmet tilted slightly. "Don't know. Be prepared for the worst."

They approached the trailer carefully. The officer knocked hard on the door.

"Police Department! We got a 911 call?"

A woman's voice shrieked from inside. "HE'S THREATENING TO RIP MY BABY'S HEAD OFF!"

Ruby's eyes went huge. "OH MY GOD!"

Weiss immediately leveled Myrtenaster. "COME OUT OF THERE! HANDS UP!"

Yang's gauntlets clicked into place. "LET THE BABY GO!"

There was a long pause. Then a man's voice called out, "I'M COMING OUT…!"

The door creaked open.

A disheveled man stepped out… holding a plastic baby doll by one leg.

Blake stared. "…Really?"

Ruby lowered Crescent Rose slightly, looking almost disappointed. "I was totally prepared to shoot him and catch the baby with my Semblance."

Yang nodded approvingly. "That's how you should have done it."

Weiss looked personally offended. "A doll?!"

The woman from inside the trailer pushed past her brother, snatching the doll protectively. "She's my little baby! I need a man to be a proper daddy for my baby! But my brother won't let me go out and find a man!"

Blake's ears flattened under her bow. "…Seriously?"

Ruby glanced around at the others. "Ummm… I uh… how do we fix this…?"

Nora rested Magnhild on her shoulder with a bright smile. "And do any of them need to be alive when we're done?"

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped forward with a long-suffering sigh. "Look. You two can either apologize and sort this out… or you can go to jail!"

The brother and sister looked at each other for a long moment.

"…Look, I'm sorry," the brother muttered. "I'm jealous of you going out with guys."

The sister's expression softened. "I get it… I'm sorry too. I love you."

"I love you too."

They stared into each other's eyes.

Then they began to make out.

Jaune's face drained of all color. "Ohhhh Breaker no! NO NO NO!"

Ruby recoiled. "OH BREAKER NO!"

Yang's eyes went wide with pure horror. "DO NOT DRY HUMP!"

Nora raised Magnhild, finger hovering near the trigger. "Do I take the shot?"

Ren calmly placed a hand on the barrel and lowered it. "Not yet."

The sibling pair continued their enthusiastic reconciliation right there on the trailer steps, completely ignoring the armed Huntsmen-in-training and police officers staring at them in collective trauma.

Pyrrha then knocked them apart with Milo and Akuo. Jaune and Pyrrha pounced.

The brother yelled: "AHH! HEY! YOU CAN'T ARREST ME! INCEST ISN'T ILLEGAL!"

"I don't know for sure but I'm sure we can charge you with something!" Pyrrha yelled.

Ruby slowly turned to the officer in riot armor.

"…Is this a normal call for you people?"

The officer's helmet was very still.

"…Welcome to the Valean Police Department."

 

[AJ_Talon]

Mia Arc was on patrol.

She tore across the Beacon courtyard on her red tricycle, police hat tilted at a jaunty angle, a plastic badge pinned to her shirt, and a toy sword and gun stuck in her belt. Sunglasses (stolen from Yang's dresser) covered half her face. She looked extremely serious for a four-year-old.

She spotted Velvet Scarlatina reading under a tree and slammed on the imaginary brakes.

"Uwahhh… Uwahhh… Uwaahh… Uwaahhh…! Pull over!"

Velvet looked up, ears twitching. "Hm?"

Mia fixed her with the most serious glare she could manage. "Pull over!"

Velvet giggled. "Okay… What's the charge, Officer?"

Mia stared her down. "You're too much of a bunny!"

"…Eh?"

"Gimme cookies!"

Velvet laughed. "Oh, you're a crooked cop, huh?"

Mia grinned. "Yup!"

"I don't have cookies, sweetie. But I will give you some candy."

"YAY!"

Mia accepted the bribe with the solemn dignity of a seasoned officer, then continued her patrol, sunglasses firmly in place.

Next victim: Skylar, a senior student with bird Faunus traits.

"Aw… You're cute, Little Lady!"

Mia pointed her toy gun. "You're under arrest!"

"What—what for?!"

"For being a bird! And not being a bird!" She scribbled something illegible on a notepad and thrust it at him. "Show up to court! Or gimme candy!"

Skylar blinked, then pulled out a bag of Skittles. "…Want some Skittles?"

"YAY SKITTLES!"

---

Her final target of the afternoon was Arslan Altan, who was walking across the courtyard in her usual calm, composed manner.

Mia rolled up at full speed. "Pull over!"

Arslan tilted her head. "But I am not in a vehicle?"

Mia hesitated for half a second. "Oh… Um… You're under arrest!"

Arslan crouched down to Mia's eye level, a small, amused smile on her face. "Oh, my apologies, little lion. I was unaware I was in the presence of one of Aslan's holy knights."

Mia blinked. "Holy knight? I'm a cop!"

"Do you uphold the law?" Arslan asked solemnly. "Not just in letter, but in spirit too?"

"…What's that mean?"

"It means, do you protect the innocent?"

"YEAH!"

"Do you believe in the all-saving light that is our Emperor, Aslan?"

"YEAH!"

"Do you hate Grimm?"

Mia's face twisted into pure four-year-old fury. "YEAH! GRIMM SUCK!"

Arslan placed a solemn hand on her head. "THEN YOU ARE A HOLY KNIGHT!!!"

"YAAAAAYYYY!" Mia cheered, then paused. "…Do Holy Knights get candy?"

"Yes," Arslan said, "but only if they're good."

"YAY! Can I have candy?"

"Unfortunately, I do not have any."

Mia's ears drooped.

"However…" Arslan's eyes gleamed. "I do know of a way you can get it."

---

Ten minutes later, two unsuspecting students were walking past a row of bushes when a tiny blonde blur exploded out of them.

"HALT!!!"

Mia stood with her toy sword raised high, police hat still on, sunglasses slightly askew.

"THE GOD EMPEROR DEMANDS THAT YOU RE… re…"

From the bushes, Arslan whispered, "Relinquish."

"RELINGQUISH ALL YOUR CANDY! THIS IS A CRUSADE!!!"

The two students stared.

One of them slowly reached into his pocket.

"So cute," they muttered, as they handed over sweets. Mia beamed.

"YAY! FOR THE EMPRAH!"

Arslan chuckled.

And people said she had no sense of humor...

 

[AJ_Talon]

Flashback: When Jaune Met Mia

---

The hallway outside the Arc-En-Ciel Hospital surgical ward was quiet except for the low hum of medical equipment and the distant, muffled sounds of the hospital at night. Jaune sat on a hard plastic chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles had gone white. He had been there for hours. Every time the doors opened he looked up with the same fragile hope.

When Isabel finally stepped out, still in her surgical scrubs, the mask still covering the lower half of her face, that hope died.

Her eyes were red. Tears tracked down her cheeks above the mask.

"Jaune…" Her voice cracked. "I… I'm so sorry."

He was on his feet before the words fully registered. He pushed past her, through the swinging doors, into the bright, sterile light of the operating room.

Katy lay on the surgical table.

She was so still. The monitors that should have been beeping had been silenced. Someone had already covered most of her with a sheet, but her face was still visible—pale, peaceful in a way that made his stomach twist. Her hand rested at her side, fingers slightly curled.

He reached for it.

It was cold.

Something inside Jaune's chest simply… broke.

A sound tore out of him—raw, animal, helpless. His knees hit the floor. He pressed her cold hand against his forehead and sobbed, the kind of sobbing that wracked the entire body and left no room for breath.

Strong arms closed around him from behind.

"It's okay," Nick's voice said, thick and rough. "It's okay to cry, son. I've got you. I've got you."

His father pulled him up, guided him out of the room, down the short corridor into a quieter recovery space. Isabel followed. The moment the door closed behind them she pulled her mask down and wrapped both arms around her son, holding him as tightly as she could while he shook apart against her shoulder. Nick guided them all to a chair, and Jaune collapsed into it like every bone in his body was dust.

Even with his parents holding him, all he could feel was a giant pit of blackness swallowing him up, and sobs tearing out of his chest like a Grimm was ripping his flesh apart with its teeth.

There was a soft sound from the corner of the room.

A tiny, thin mewl.

Jaune hadn't even noticed the bassinet.

Isabel drew a shaky breath and stepped away. She crossed to the bassinet, carefully lifted the small pink-wrapped bundle, and carried it back to him.

"We saved the baby," she whispered.

Jaune's hands were trembling so badly he almost couldn't take her. Nick steadied his arms from behind, helping him cradle the impossibly small weight against his chest.

"It's a girl," Isabel said.

Jaune looked down.

A tiny, scrunched face. A dusting of fine blond hair. And two little cat ears—soft, pale gold, already twitching faintly at the sound of his ragged breathing.

Isabel swallowed hard. "Mercer and Junior just called. They're back in the waiting area. I… I have to go tell them."

Her grief nearly broke her voice. Mercer and Junior... They'd been so excited when Jaune had married Katy. They said they couldn't have asked for a better son or brother-in-law than him and they... They'd now...

Jaune only response was a nod, still staring at the baby.

Isabel leaned in, pressed a long kiss to the top of his head, and hugged him one more time.

"I'll be back," she promised. "I love you."

"I-I love you too," he managed.

She left.

Nick stayed, one arm still around his son's shoulders, the other carefully supporting the baby. Tears ran silently down the older man's face as he rested his chin against the top of Jaune's head.

"Son… it's okay to cry."

"I-I can't…" Jaune's voice was wrecked. "I can't stop…"

"I know. I know." Nick kissed the top of his head the way he had when Jaune was small. "It's okay. It's okay."

Silence settled again, broken only by the soft cooing and occasional mewling of the newborn in Jaune's arms.

Nick eventually straightened. "I'll get her some milk. She needs to eat."

Jaune nodded without looking up. "I-I know."

"I'll be right back."

Nick left.

The room was quiet except for the soft beeping of distant monitors and the tiny sounds of the baby.

Jaune adjusted his hold, bringing her closer to his chest. Her little ears twitched again. One tiny hand flexed against the blanket.

"Hey…" His voice was barely more than a broken whisper. "Hey… it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here."

He swallowed hard, tears still falling onto the soft pink blanket.

"Mia… She wanted to name you that. Mia."

He pressed the gentlest kiss he could manage to the top of her head, between those soft little ears.

"I'm your dad. Jaune. And I love you, Mia. I… I always will. I promise.... I promise..."

 

[AJ_Talon]

The airship descended through clear mountain air toward the small regional port outside Radian. From the windows the passengers could already see it: Arc-En-Ciel Hospital rising on the edge of the old town like something out of a fairy tale. In the afternoon sunlight the pale stone and glass of the hospital complex gleamed as though it had been carved from pearl, its towers and arched windows catching the light and throwing it back in soft, luminous flashes. Circling around it was the mountain town of Radian in buildings of brightly painted timber and white stone, and further out in the white walls of the city, the forests of Old Arcadia waited, dark and quiet.



They took the train the short distance into town, then transferred to a sturdy wooden wagon for the final trip down the winding dirt road. The Arc farmhouse came into view at last—a large, weathered but well-kept structure with a pointed tower at the front, many windows, and a blue-shingled roof that had sheltered generations of Arcs. Jaune stepped down first, then lifted Mia carefully to the ground. Behind them RWBY and JNPR followed, gifts and travel bags in hand, all of them looking around with open curiosity at the place their teammate had grown up.



Jaune led them onto the wide front porch and knocked.



The door opened almost at once.



Isabel Arc stood there in a flour-dusted apron, her expression shifting from mild surprise to pure, radiant joy the moment she saw her son and granddaughter.



"Hello, Jaune!" She pulled him into a fierce, lingering hug, then immediately dropped to one knee. "Aw, and Mia!"



"Granny!" Mia squealed, throwing both arms around Isabel's neck and burying her face in her shoulder.



Isabel held her tightly for a long moment before straightening, finally taking in the cluster of teenagers behind them. Her eyes widened.



"And… oh my. That's a lot of people…"



Jaune gave a sheepish little laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Heh… I made a lot of friends."



Isabel's smile softened into something warmer and deeper. "So I see. Well then—come in, all of you. You're more than welcome."



They were guided around the side of the house to the backyard, where a small open pavilion had been decorated with streamers, paper lanterns, and a long table already half-laden with food. The moment Nick Arc and Lilac spotted them, they came striding across the grass.



Nick's booming laugh rolled across the yard as he swept Mia up into his arms and tossed her high into the air.



"Grampa!" she shrieked, delighted.



"HAHAHA! There's my favorite little troublemaker!" He caught her again and spun her around while Lilac hugged Jaune with quiet intensity, then moved down the line to embrace every single member of RWBY and JNPR without hesitation, murmuring warm greetings to each of them.



When the whirlwind of hugs settled, Jaune stepped closer to his father, voice dropping.



"I… um… I wanted to go see Katy. If that's okay, Dad?"



Nick's expression gentled at once. The usual larger-than-life energy softened into something quieter and full of understanding. "Of course, son. I'll watch Mia."



"I—Dad, I—"



"It's okay, son." Nick rested a heavy, steadying hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Go. Take whatever time you need."



Jaune turned to Mia, crouching so they were eye-level. "I'll be right back, Kitten. Promise."



She hugged him tightly and pressed a sticky kiss to his cheek. "Okay!"



Pyrrha stepped forward a little, concern clear in her emerald eyes. "You… you okay, Jaune?"



He managed a small, tired smile. "Yeah. Yeah. Sorry. Just… I gotta do this alone."



Ruby nodded, voice soft. "Sure."



Yang's lilac eyes were serious but kind. "We get it."



Nora, for once, didn't crack a joke. She simply nodded. Ren gave a quiet, understanding incline of his head. Blake's golden eyes held quiet solidarity. Weiss folded her hands in front of her and said, gently, "Certainly, Jaune… we'll be here."



"Thanks," Jaune said, the word rough with gratitude. Then he turned and walked alone into the trees.

---


Old Arcadia was hushed and cool beneath the pines. The ruins of the ancient fortress manor rose among the trees like the bones of something once proud—crumbling walls, half-buried foundations, and the dark mouth of the family crypt waiting ahead. Jaune knew every step of the path by heart.



Inside the crypt the air was still and cool. Sunlight filtered through narrow openings high in the stone, illuminating row after row of statues. He walked slowly among them, past the regal figure of Jeanne d'Arc, founder of House Arc, sword raised and banner flowing in frozen stone. Past later lords and ladies of the bloodline. Past the paired statues of Jonathan and Elizabeth Arc—his grandparents—who had died in battle when Isabel was only eleven. Their faces were kind even in marble, forever young.



And then he came to hers.



Uncle Bedivere had poured everything he had into the sculpture. Katy sat on a stone bench in her wedding dress, hands folded loosely in her lap, smiling the soft, warm, slightly mischievous smile Jaune still saw in his dreams. The marble caught the light so that for a moment, she almost looked alive.



Jaune stood in front of her for a long time before he could speak.



"…H-Hey, Katy." His voice cracked. He swallowed hard. "Um… hey."



Silence answered him. Only the distant rustle of wind in the pines outside.



He wiped at his face with the back of one hand, then let out a shaky breath.



"Mia's great. She's made friends. She's very happy. Causes trouble, but… I think people encourage it." A weak, broken little laugh escaped him. "I'm in fourth place in my class overall. Pretty strong, but… you know. Pyrrha, Ruby, Yang, Weiss, Nora, Ren, Blake—they're all pretty amazing."



He told her about them one by one, voice growing steadier and then faltering again as emotion rose.



"Ren's a genius. I can just clobber him if I can get my hands on him, but that's the hardest part, heh. He's my best male friend. Ruby's a prodigy—she's fast and she's my best female friend and nerdy. She's like another little sister. You'd like her. Yang… is awesome. She's sunny, and likes terrible puns, and is caring and she's amazing-She's happy to tell you, heh. But she's fantastic. Mia really loves her. Weiss is like a princess—daughter of the richest man in the world, but he's kind of an ass. She's stiff, but she's very kind-She really loves buying gifts for Mia. It's how she shows love. Nora is a riot. Hard to manage sometimes, but I really like her. So does Mia. Blake's got a lot of issues, but she's trying to make up for a lot of bad things. She's very caring, though. And sneaky. She's a cat Faunus like you and her parents are wonderful. They love Mia too..."



His voice softened further.



"…Pyrrha. She's my partner. She's incredible. Like the most amazing—she's like a superhero and I'm really lucky. I worked hard to get where I was, but she's just… grace and power personified. She's also really nice. Shy. Says sorry too much. I'm really lucky to have friends like all of them…"



He fell silent for a long moment, staring at the statue's smiling face.



"And… I dunno. Some of the girls want me to date them. They'd... Love to be Mia's mom. She wants them to be, and… I mean… they're great, but…"



He closed his eyes.



"Every time I… I let myself think about it… I imagine you. And…"



A long, shuddering sigh.



"…I know you told me to move on, but… but I don't know if I can. Maybe I'm just not strong enough. I'm never strong enough."



His hands curled into fists at his sides.



"My fucking Semblance could have healed you and I couldn't… If I'd unlocked it sooner, maybe…"



He exhaled hard, shoulders sagging.



"You'd tell me I'm being stupid. I know. But when I'm here I just… I know you're not the statue, but…" He wiped his eyes again, voice breaking. "Breaker damnit… I thought… maybe one day I'd have healed from this, but… I'm not. I'm still wounded and it still hurts and this day… I should be happy for Mia. She's five. And… and you're still in here and I don't know how to handle it."



Footsteps approached softly on the stone path outside.



Jaune tensed.



Isabel appeared at the entrance of the crypt, Mia riding on her hip. Both of them looked at him with quiet concern.



"Hey, sweetie," Isabel said gently.



"…Hey, Mom." Jaune's voice was rough. "Mia?"



Mia's ears were slightly flattened, her expression solemn. "I wanted to see you and Mama."



Jaune swallowed hard. "…S-Sure. Sure."



Isabel set Mia down carefully. The little girl immediately walked over and took her father's hand. Isabel kissed both of them on the forehead.



"We'll be at the edge of the forest, okay?"



"Thank you," Jaune whispered.



She left them alone in the quiet of the crypt.



Mia stared up at the statue for a long time. Jaune held her tightly.



Finally, she spoke in a quiet voice.



"…Mama was really pretty."



"Yes," Jaune said softly. "She was."



"Can I talk to her?"



"Not here. But you can pray, and she'll hear you."



Mia nodded. She closed her eyes, bowed her head, still holding tightly to Jaune's hand, and spoke in a small, clear voice.



"Hi Aslan… I wanna talk to Mama. I really miss her. I want to have cake with her. It would be nice. It's a really nice cake. And she would be here and she'd make Papa happy. And everyone would have a good time at my party… But I can't. So… um… I hope she's happy, 'cause we really miss her and Papa's doing a good job. Amen."



Jaune pulled her into a tight hug and pressed a long kiss to the top of her head between her soft cat ears. "That was good," he whispered. "She'd have liked it."



"…Thanks."



Mia slipped free after a moment and walked up to the statue. She carefully placed one small hand against the cold marble of Katy's knee.



"Why do you make a statue if she's not in there?"



"So we remember what she looked like," Jaune said quietly. "So we don't forget."



"Why would you forget?"



"People get old and forget lots of stuff, Kitten."



Mia's ears flattened further. "I don't want to forget."



Jaune smiled gently.



"That's why we have the statue."



"…Oh."



Jaune lifted her into his arms again and held her close for a long time, rocking slightly the way he had when she was a newborn. Eventually Mia squirmed.



"…Can we have cake now, please?"



He managed a small, watery smile. "Yes. Yes, we can."



They walked back out of the woods together. Isabel, RWBY and JNPR were waiting at the treeline, quiet and respectful. The moment they saw Jaune's face, something in the group's posture softened further.



"Hey…" Jaune offered them a tired, grateful smile. "Uh… sorry it took so long…"



"No need to apologize, for anything," Isabel said gently.



Mia tugged at his sleeve. "Can we have cake?"



"Yeah. Go on, Kitten."



He set her down. She took off running toward the pavilion at full speed. Isabel smiled.



"I'll look after her." She turned and followed.



The moment she was gone, Nora stepped forward and wrapped Jaune in a fierce, almost crushing hug. Pyrrha joined almost immediately, her arms gentler but no less tight. Ren placed a steadying hand on Jaune's shoulder, the quiet offer of his Semblance clear in the gesture.



"…I'm okay," Jaune murmured against Nora's shoulder. "Thank you, Ren." He drew a deep, shaky breath.



Yang pulled him into a hug next, strong and warm. Ruby followed, clinging tightly. Weiss hesitated for only a second before stepping in as well, her embrace careful but sincere. Blake lingered at the edge of the group until Jaune looked at her over the others' heads.



"…You want one too?"



"Yes," she said quietly.



He opened an arm and hugged her without another word.



When they finally let him go, Jaune exhaled slowly, wiping at his eyes one last time.



"…I'll talk about it later, huh?"


---


At the grill, Nick Arc was carefully tending the coals the way he always did on birthdays—because, as he liked to say, birthdays were the best days of the year "since you got dessert before dinner without people yelling at you." He watched Mia race past toward the cake table with a soft, subdued smile, eyes shining with unshed tears.



When Jaune came to stand beside him, Nick spoke quietly enough that only his son could hear.



"I made sure to spend extra time maintaining her memorial, so it would look extra nice for today, son. She deserves to look nice for her little girl."



He glanced at Jaune, voice even quieter, thick with emotion.



"…Have I ever told you how much I admire you, Jaune? For being so strong? I don't think I would be able to do what you have done for Mia if I lost Izzy…"



He wiped his eyes with the back of one wrist and gave a self-conscious little laugh.



"Sorry. Must be getting old and sentimental."



Jaune's voice was rough with quiet gratitude. "Thank you, Dad. I really appreciate it."



Isabel appeared at his other side and slipped an arm around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. Her own eyes were damp.



"Yes," she said softly. "We're very proud of you, Jaune."



"…Thank you."



Out on the grass, Mia was already demanding cake at the top of her lungs while the rest of the group began setting out plates and laughing. The afternoon sun caught the pearl-like gleam of Arc-En-Ciel Hospital in the distance one more time.



The party had begun.

 

[AJ_Talon]

The next call was an older woman who insisted neighborhood children were terrorizing her sidewalk and lawn.

"Those kids—those kids! They keep going on my sidewalk around on those bikes! You gotta arrest them!"

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "Are they… vandalizing?"

"They're riding around and their parents make them go around just to bug me! And those kids—they run around on my lawn and steal my lawn gnomes!" She dragged them inside and pointed at her television. "Look! Look! I've recorded the kids all in front of my house!"

Ruby stared. "…Ma'am, that's a crime."

Yang nodded. "And a little creepy."

The officer sighed. "So is making a false report, since you have all your lawn gnomes inside. Sorry, but you're under arrest."

Nora gasped theatrically. "Le Gasp! The Plot thickens!"

The old woman immediately collapsed, making dramatic gagging noises. "Stroke! I'm having a stroke!"

Jaune didn't even blink. "No you're not. I've seen kids fake strokes better than that."

Nora nodded sagely. "And people who are having strokes can't say they're having strokes! Trust me, I've checked."

"Well you'd better take me to the hospital anyway and get all my pills and call my daughter and take care of my dog—!"

"You can call your daughter at the jail," the officer said flatly. "We'll have the neighbors look after your dog. You can get your meds, but you're going to jail."

"You're arresting me and not the kids?! This is crap!" She flopped harder. "I'm not getting up! I'm passed out!"

They escorted her out anyway. She immediately started screaming at Ruby. "ROSE! ROSE YOU'RE A BITCH!"

"You don't know me!" Ruby cried.

"No, no, don't yell at her," Jaune said.

"I NEED AN AMBULANCE!"

"You don't need an ambulance, you're fine!" Ruby snapped.

Nora shook her head. "Welp, don't think we can sink any lower!"

"BWAH!"

Everyone looked over at Jaune. He was suspended upside-down in one of the old woman's traps.

"THAT'S MY TRAP! YOU SET IT!" the woman crowed. "YOU'RE FIXING IT!"

Jaune closed his eyes. "I swear to God, whatever comes next better be some guys robbing a bank in lesser-known Chancellor's masks."

---

It was not.

The next call was a woman causing a scene at WcDonald's. The manager, a Mantis Faunus, looked exhausted.

"Corporate rules say you can't hang out more than an hour without buying anything. This woman sat and just talked on her Scroll, didn't buy anything, so I asked her to leave or buy something… She started yelling that I was a dirty Faunus slave to the humans, a dirty insect, a lot of other hurtful things. She recorded me when I asked her to leave. Please deal with this."

Jaune nodded. "Don't worry, we will. Hello, ma'am!"

The woman screamed and flung a milkshake straight into his face.

"YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING TO ME! YOU'RE A SLAVE TO HUMANS! YOU'RE A FUCKING SLAVE TO HUMANS CALLING THEM ON ME! FUCKING FAUNUS SLAVE!"

Jaune wiped milkshake from his eyes, expression flat. "I tried." He wordlessly grabbed her by the ear. "Let's take this outside."

"OW OW OWWW! POLICE BRUTALITY! POLICE BRUTALITY!"

"No no, don't grab her by the ear," the officer said quickly. "Wrists. Let's get her in cuffs."

The woman kicked, screamed, and spat while Pyrrha held her steady. They ended up cuffing both wrists and ankles.

"I'LL SUE YOU ALL! I'LL RUIN YOUR LIVES! RUIN YOUR FUCKING LIVES! FAUNUS SLAVES OF THE MAN! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOUUUU!"

The officer tased her. She went rigid with a high-pitched scream, then dissolved into wailing once they got her into the squad car.

"YOU'RE FASCISTS! FASCISSSTS!"

The Mantis manager exhaled. "Thank you. This is not the first time I've called the cops on her. She's a nightmare."

Ren's voice was dry. "We noticed."

Blake hesitated. "Um… So… How do you feel about humans—?"

"I'm just fine with most of them, just not her. I mean I just got into law school, I'm finally getting out of this job—"

Ruby beamed. "Oh, congrats!"

"—and yeah, hopefully never seeing her again."

Yang, seeing Blake's expression, lightly squeezed her shoulder. "It's not your fault other Faunus can be assholes."

Blake made a quiet, depressed sound.

"You're not the Queen of the Faunus, okay, Blake?" Jaune said gently. "And even if you were, this isn't on you. Just… mortal nature."

Blake mumbled something.

"Hm?"

She lifted her head. "I know. I just…"

"Yeah…"

"I ran away to try and change this…"

"Well… I don't think just one person can change all this."

"I know. I learned that before…"

 

[AJ_Talon]

The five-car pile-up sat in the middle of the intersection like a metal sculpture of bad decisions. Steam still hissed from one radiator. A single hubcap rolled lazily in a circle before clattering to a stop. RWBY, JNPR, and their usual Vale PD beat-cop escorts had arrived first, but they weren't alone for long.

Four familiar figures in slightly-too-new detective jackets hopped out of an unmarked cruiser.

Sun Wukong cracked his knuckles. "Alright, juniors on the scene! We got this."

Ruby blinked. "Uh… we got here first. We should investigate."

Sun pointed at the badge clipped to his lapel. "Junior detectives. That means we investigate. You guys are still on beat."

Neptune slid forward with his usual sunglasses-and-smile combo, completely ignoring the wrecked cars. "Pyrrha! Yang! Looking radiant as always. Just so you know, I'm totally over Weiss now. Completely moved on. Ready for new horizons."

Weiss's jaw flexed so hard it looked like she was trying to chew through her own molars.

Yang didn't even pretend to be polite. "Get bent, Vasilias."

Pyrrha offered a strained but still-polite smile. "I… appreciate the sentiment, but please direct your attentions elsewhere."

Nora bounced on her toes, Magnhild already half-manifested. "I say we investigate, because I have a hammer and I am willing to use it."

Ren laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "Nora."

Neptune, undeterred, turned his charm offensive on the next target. "Nora, has anyone ever told you that hammer of yours is almost as impressive as—"

Ren's voice went flat. "Nora is free to use the hammer."

"No she is not," Jaune said quickly, stepping between them. "Absolutely not. We are not solving jurisdiction with blunt force trauma."

Ruby and Jaune both raised their hands in the universal "please don't escalate" gesture.

Scarlet crossed his arms, looking deeply unimpressed with the entire situation. "We're literally junior detectives. Let us investigate. And while we're on the subject—" He turned a pointed look on Blake. "Will you please stop writing erotic yaoi fiction about me with the other members of SSSN? I don't like any of them that way. Especially not Neptune."

The entire intersection went quiet.

Everyone slowly turned to stare at Blake.

Blake stood perfectly still, expression carefully blank… except for the deep crimson flush creeping up her neck and the tips of her ears.

Sun's face fell into pure betrayal. "Blake…?"

Neptune looked personally wounded. "I am deeply offended."

Blake cleared her throat, still refusing to meet anyone's eyes. "…I write a whole other genre of erotica for you, Sun."

Sun brightened a fraction. "Oh. Well… that's something, I guess."

Weiss and Ruby both stared at her like she'd just admitted to keeping a live Nevermore under her bed.

A brief, chaotic round of overlapping arguments broke out—jurisdiction, badges, hammers, the ethics of fanfiction based on real teammates—until Sage stepped forward and raised one large, calm hand.

"My Semblance is Psychometry," he said evenly. "I can see the past of objects and who has touched them. We should investigate together."

That, at least, everyone could agree on.

Sage walked over to the car that had clearly caused the pile-up—the one with the crumpled front end and the driver's door still hanging open. He rested his palm against the steering wheel, closed his eyes, and went still.

A moment later his expression darkened.

"The owner," he said, "is a pedophile and a drug dealer."

Silence.

"Is... Is that admissable in court?" Jaune asked.

From somewhere behind a nearby dumpster came a panicked curse and the sound of sprinting footsteps.

Every head snapped toward the noise.

The owner was already running.

"We'll ask," Ruby said, holding up Crescent Rose.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Ruby kicked at a loose piece of gravel on the sidewalk, looking thoroughly unimpressed with the morning so far.

"Sometimes I get the feeling we're just being used as cheap labor for the city."

Jaune didn't even pretend to argue. "Probably."

They rounded the corner of the Vale University campus, entered the local bar, and found a very nervous-looking man standing next to what appeared to be a slightly disheveled chimpanzee with an amulet. Several other people were injured.

Ruby raised a hand. "What's up, guys?"

The man gestured vaguely at the ape.

"There was a debate," the man continued, swaying a little himself. "These men had a point, I had a point, the chimp had a point… We obey the law of man and he obeys the law of the jungle."

Ruby squinted. "And the chimp… bit someone?"

"No. I bit that man."

Ruby's expression went carefully blank. "…Okay."

"The chimp just threw things."

Jaune opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Nothing useful came out.

Nora's eyes lit up like a festival. "CHIMPANZEE! I CHALLENGE YOU TO BATTLE!"

"No! Nonono—!" Jaune started, already reaching for her.

"YES! I AM FIGHTING A MONKEY!"

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "Technically, chimpanzees aren't monkeys, they're actua—"

"BANZAIIIIII!"

Nora charged.

Yang leaned toward Ren, voice low. "Fifty Lien on the monkey?"

Ren considered the chaos already unfolding. "…Fifty on Nora." Internally he added, Easy money.

Weiss blew a strand of hair out of her face, still grumbling. "…What's the difference?"

Yang cupped her hands around her mouth. "AYOOO!"

Nora's battle cry turned into a yelp mid-charge. "AYOOOOO—ACK! IT HAS MY HAIR!"

The chimpanzee had indeed seized a fistful of orange locks and was yanking with impressive determination.

Nora snarled, teeth bared. "I CAN BITE HARDER! RAWR! I BITE HARDERRRRR!"

The chimp answered with a rising series of shrieks—eeee-eeee-eeee-EEEE-EEEE!

Ren watched with mild interest. "Mmmmmm… monkey."

Pyrrha frowned as alcohol bottles, a half-eaten sandwich, and someone's discarded backpack all rose into the air and began orbiting the fight. "Is… why are things flying without—"

Jaune's eyes went wide. "Oh shit—telekinetic! TELEKINETIC CHIMP! TELEKINETIC CHIMP!"

The man nodded sagely, nearly falling over. "I told ya… hic… he throws things."

Weiss looked personally offended by the universe. "Why does a chimpanzee have telekinesis!? What are the reasons for such a Semblance!?"

Ruby threw her hands up. "YOU DIDN'T SPECIFY HOW!"

The man shrugged. "I dunno, man. This Semblance stuff is a lottery."

"It is not," Weiss snapped, "as they are determined by deep psychological factors. What are these for a primate!?"

Several bananas floated serenely past her head.

Jaune didn't even look surprised. "You had to ask."

Blake tilted her head. "Seriously speaking… why, actually?"

The man laughed, delighted. "Holy shit, he can move things with his mind…"

Yang finally lost patience. "IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER!"

Weiss rounded on the man. "Are you high?!"

"Yes! …I mean… no?"

Yang pointed at Weiss. "DO YOU WANNA GO GET HIS FILE OR SOMETHING?! READ HIS BACKSTORY RIGHT NOW?!"

Meanwhile Nora had somehow gotten the chimpanzee into a very solid foot choke. "Kagato-Jime!" she declared proudly. The chimp made a series of increasingly high-pitched ooo-EEE ooo-EEE ooo-EEE! sounds.

Nora beamed. "Hah! And Renny told me that calling out my attacks wouldn't work!"

Ren's voice was mild. "I said it was unlikely to work. I didn't say it wouldn't work."

Jaune dragged a hand down his face. "Right… right… Can we leave this to animal control?"

The nearest officer shook his head. "No. Not for Aura unlocking."

Ruby's eyes went distant and slightly horrified. "Wait… doesn't this mean chimps have souls?"

Jaune stared straight ahead. "…I'm not thinking about that right now."

Ruby shuddered.

"Let's… let's not think about that. Ever."

"Yeah. Yeah, ever."

Pyrrha offered a rare moment of pure pragmatism. "Aura is bullshit anyway. Sorry."

"It is absolute bullshit," Jaune agreed.

Nora, still calmly choking the chimpanzee with her shin, leaned closer to its face. "Hey Nim Chimpsky, do you have a soul?"

The chimp made an angry Ooo-eee-EEE-ooo-OOO? noise.

Jaune blinked. "That's not his name—"

The man brightened. "Totally his name!"

Nora pointed. "His name tag says so!"

Ruby squinted at the little plastic tag clipped to the chimp's collar. "…How did we miss that?"

Weiss's eyes narrowed in recognition. "Wasn't Nim Chimpsky part of a linguistics experiment?"

Blake stared at her. "Wha… what kind of books do you read?!"

"Science is fascinating to me," Weiss said primly, "and I was curious about where language comes from!"

Pyrrha looked suddenly concerned. "Wait—these people interfered with an ongoing science experiment?"

Jaune's expression went thoughtful in the worst possible way. "…We might have to awaken the control chimp's Aura, to make sure the results are still valid."

"WE ARE NOT AWAKENING ANY MORE CHIMPS!" Weiss shouted.

Ruby snapped her fingers. "I was wondering why a chimp was on a college campus!"

Blake held up both hands. "No, no—he's not. He's possessed. He has an amulet with a guy's soul in it and he's possessing the chimp."

Jaune's head whipped around. "Wait, that's real?!"

"His Semblance. Along with the telekinesis."

"Seriously?!"

"Yes! Seriously! He got killed, his soul was in the amulet, it ended up on a chimpanzee, and now he's a chimpanzee."

"Really shiny amulet!" Nora confirmed.

Yang grinned. "Wow! That's pretty complicated monkey shines."

The entire group groaned in perfect unison.

Yang looked wounded. "I WAS HANGING ONTO THAT!"

Nora's face fell as the implications sank in. "Awww, I wanted to keep him. Now it'd be weird."

The chimpanzee somehow produced a Scroll from nowhere, held it up with one free hand, and spoke in a perfectly clear, irritated human voice.

"Yes. And I'm suing you all. I'm not drunk—you're drunk!"

Jaune sagged with pure relief. "Oh thank the Breaker. I thought it was like, another chimpanzee with a soul and that—that would be weird!"

Weiss stared at him in open horror. "THAT WOULD BE WEIRD?!"

Jaune considered. "Weirder?"

Ruby nodded firmly. "Much weirder."

 

[AJ_Talon]

The training mission was supposed to be an easy one—just a short hop out to a quiet farming town with almost no Grimm activity on record. The air even smelled unusually sweet as they stepped off the transport.

A local man spotted them immediately and waved with both arms like they were long-lost celebrities.

"Ohhh… oh hey! You're the trainees!"

Ruby beamed. "Yes sir!"

"Yes… it's so awesome to meet you, we're super happy… We have some… some issues we need help with…"

Jaune gave his most professional smile. "We're happy to help you!"

The man gestured vaguely toward a sprawling cluster of glass buildings in the distance. "Great! Great… We have greenhouses… so many greenhouses… We have like…" He counted on his fingers, lost count, then tried again. "…more than… more than this many…"

Weiss wrinkled her nose. "Does… do you have a lot of skunks here?"

"Oh yeah," the man said dreamily. "We have everything. It's all chill."

Ren's eyes tracked slowly across the nearest greenhouse. "…I see."

A woman wandered over with a young girl in tow. "Hey! Heyyyy… you're the trainees!"

The first resident nodded sagely. "Yes! They're the trainees!"

The woman squinted at the group. "Have you seen my daughter?"

Ruby pointed at the child standing directly beside her. "Isn't… isn't that her?"

"Oh! Sweetie! You're here! Where'd you go?"

Jaune's smile grew strained. "…How much weed have you guys had?"

Silence.

"…Like… today?"

The man stared at the sky for a long moment. "I dunno… what's today?"

The little girl looked up at them with big, serious eyes. "Help me?"

Ren leaned in close to Jaune and whispered, "It might be best to burn the gardens."

Jaune whispered back, "That would make it worse."

Ren considered this, then added quietly, "Then we should at least not accept any more free samples."

Unfortunately, the rest of the team had already started sampling the local hospitality.

Pyrrha wandered up holding a half-empty bag of chocolates, eyes half-lidded and smiling far too widely. "Heeeyyyy… heyyyy Jaune! I… I love these candies! They had… chocolates…!" She giggled.

Jaune's soul left his body. "Oh no."

Ruby was already listing sideways, cheeks stuffed. "Chocolates… soooo goooood…!"

Yang's eyes narrowed. "…I'm going to fuck them up."

"We are not fucking them up!" Jaune snapped. Then he looked around. "…Where's Blake?"

Blake appeared from behind a greenhouse, pupils dilated, ears twitching. "Heeeyyyyy! They… they grow catnip…! Did you know that?"

Ren watched her bat at nothing in particular for a moment. "…She is going to be difficult."

Jaune spun toward the last functional member of the group. "NORA! Nora, do not eat or touch anything! Don't move!"

Nora gave him a thumbs-up. "I'm naturally high so I'm good!"

"GOOD!"

Ren inclined his head slightly. "She's consistently inconsistent."

"Totally!" Nora chirped.

Yang suddenly froze mid-step, staring at a tin of mints she'd been idly chewing. "Wait… wait… is there weed in the mints?"

The first resident smiled. "Yup!"

Yang's face went pale. "Ohhhh fuck…"

Jaune's voice cracked. "SERIOUSLY?!"

He whipped around. "WEISS! Please tell me you didn't eat anything!"

Weiss looked mildly offended. "No! I had some wine… Don't… don't tell me there's weed in the wine."

The female resident helpfully called over, "There's weed in the wine! …Oh… oh you said not to tell you… oh…"

Weiss's eye twitched. "SERIOUSLY?!"

Jaune stared at her in pure betrayal. "Wha—WINE?! Why would you take free wine?!"

"IT WAS FREE!"

Jaune dragged both hands down his face. "Craaaap…. We need to handle the Grimm."

Ren nodded once. "Agreed. The sooner the better."

"Hell…" Jaune turned to the increasingly useless rest of the team. "You guys just… just hang out! Just don't wander off… Pyrrha, stop touching my face."

Pyrrha was currently poking his cheek with one finger, expression soft and wondering. "It's so… shiny…"

"Y-Yes, my face is shiny…"

Nearby, Blake was batting at a fly with both hands like it had personally offended her ancestors.

Jaune made a command decision, as Pyrrha pulled on his jacket. He pulled the jacket off and handed it to her.

"…Ren, Nora and I will kill the Grimm. You watch them, okay?"

Ren inclined his head. "I can handle that… Shall I take photos?"

Nora's eyes sparkled. "Yes."

"No," Jaune said flatly.

"Yes!"

Ren's expression did not change. "I will take photos for documentation purposes only."

"Damnit Ren!" Jaune groaned.

There was no time to argue further. A low Grimm howl drifted in from the tree line. Jaune turned and ran.

Behind him, the high members of Teams RWBY and JNPR had already found a new priority.

Pyrrha hugged Jaune's abandoned jacket to her chest. "Loook… looooook! He's so… he's soooo cute…"

Yang nodded solemnly. "Y-yeah… and cuddly."

"Noooo! Cuddle with me!" Pyrrha whined. Yang yanked on the jacket. "I want him! He's better!"

"I want him!" Yang insisted. Weiss giggled and fell onto the jacket happily.

"Yay jacket!"

Ruby climbed onto the nearest bench like it was a throne. "I'M CUDDLING HIM! I'M THE LEADER!"

Jaune didn't look back. "No time! No time!"

Nora, trailing after him toward the Grimm, glanced over her shoulder and raised her voice in clear warning.

"Girls! Touch Ren and I'll murder you all!"

Ren, already taking photos, spoke without turning around. "Please do not. The paperwork would be excessive."

 

[dogbertcarroll]

Team Dynamics

"Heyyy!" Neptune greeted Nora with a grin, eyes running up and down her body only to freeze as a cold chill ran down his back like a sea of grimm were digging up his grave, causing him to turn around.

Jaune stared directly into his eyes, his aura roiling like plasma. "We have exactly one semi-functional relationship in our entire class, you will not mess with it!"

Cardin reached out to grab his shoulder and hissed, clutching his hand, the skin looking like it had been partially sanded off.

"My team is not here for your entertainment!" Jaune growled. "Do. You. Understand!"

Cardin removed his boots and positioned himself behind Jaune, slowly moving his heels into position.

"I got you!" Neptune squealed, Sun pulling him away.

Cinder and Neo took in the entire scene in complete confusion, Neo looking down at Cardin who was carefully moving his heels on Jaune's aura.

Noting the two staring at him on the floor Cardin looked up and said, "Calluses."

Cinder and Neo both slowly backed away.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Pathism
(also called the Path, the Balanced Way, or the Teaching of Spaṣṭadaṇḍa)

Pathism is the second-largest religion on Remnant and the dominant spiritual tradition across much of Anima, especially in the south and east. It arose in the ancient kingdom of Pandu and later spread widely through a legendary journey that has become central to its identity.

I. Origins
In the distant past of Pandu, a prince of a solar dynasty renounced throne, family, and every worldly claim. After years of extreme austerity followed by a decisive rejection of both indulgence and self-mortification, he attained complete clarity beneath a great silent tree. He is known as Spaṣṭadaṇḍa.

The decisive sign of his attainment was this: he rose and walked unarmed and unarmored through a forest thick with Grimm. The creatures did not attack. They watched, circled, and eventually withdrew. No negative emotion remained in him to draw them. This event is still regarded as the irrefutable proof of his liberation.

Spaṣṭadaṇḍa's first disciple was Xuanzang the Seeker, who recorded the earliest teachings and later led the great mission that carried the Path beyond Pandu.

Spaṣṭadaṇḍa taught that all beings—Human and Faunus alike—are bound in a cycle of suffering driven by craving, aversion, and ignorance. This cycle continually generates the negative emotions that call the Grimm. Liberation is possible through the Balanced Way, an eightfold discipline of right understanding, right intention, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right mindfulness, and right concentration. The goal is the Great Quiet—the complete stilling of the fires that fuel both personal suffering and the attraction of the Creatures of Grimm.

II. Core Teachings

• Impermanence: All compounded things arise and pass away. Clinging to them is the root of sorrow.
• No fixed self: The sense of a permanent, unchanging "I" is a useful fiction that becomes a prison.
• Consequence and return: Intentional actions shape future experience across lifetimes. The cycle continues until the Way is completed.
• Compassion joined to clarity: One without the other is incomplete.
• The Middle Course: Avoidance of both sensual excess and harsh self-denial.
• Aura and the Way: Aura is the luminous expression of mind. It is cultivated not for domination or glory, but for clarity, the protection of others, and the eventual transcendence of even the need for it.

Pathism is non-theistic in its purest form. Spaṣṭadaṇḍa is not worshipped as a god but revered as the supreme teacher who rediscovered the Way. Local spirits and ancestors are sometimes honored in folk practice, but these are secondary.

III. The Great Journey
Pathism remained largely confined to Pandu for decades until the events remembered as the Great Pilgrimage.

After Spaṣṭadaṇḍa's passing, Xuanzang the Seeker, his first disciple, set out from the eastern marches of Pandu to carry the pure teaching into the fractured kingdoms of central and northern Anima. He was accompanied and protected by three disciples of extraordinary power and one transformed companion:

• Sun the Stone-Monkey — a Monkey Faunus warrior of near-limitless strength, cunning, and rebellious spirit. Once a terror of the mountains, he was bound to the Way and became its most famous protector. His staff could change size at will.
• Zhu the Burdened — a Boar Faunus of great appetite and surprising loyalty.
• Sha the Deep — a silent, river-dwelling Faunus of immense endurance.
• Longma the Steadfast — a human whose Semblance allowed him to take the form of a powerful dragon-like horse. He carried Xuanzang across impossible distances and fought in that shape when needed.

Together they crossed Grimm and bandit-haunted wastes, fought corrupted kings, and defeated a powerful Grimm-aligned tyrant known as the Bull Demon King. The Monkey Faunus's decisive role in that final confrontation became legendary. When the Scrolls were delivered and the teaching took root across Anima, Sun the Stone-Monkey was elevated to the rare rank of Amala Yodha—one of the few Faunus formally recognized as having reached the same clarity as Spaṣṭadaṇḍa himself. Many monks and pilgrims recreate the journey from Pandu to Mistral through the Atman mountains as a religious rite.

IV. Institutions and Practice

• Monasteries and forest hermitages: The heart of Pathist life. Some are great walled complexes that also serve as schools and hospitals; others are simple forest dwellings for solitary practitioners.
• the Quiet Assembly: The community of those who have formally left household life. Lay followers support them and keep the basic precepts in daily life.
• Stillness practice: Central discipline. Both calm-abiding and insight methods are cultivated. Many Huntsmen who follow the Path use these techniques to achieve the emotional quiet that makes them difficult for Grimm to sense.
• Major observances: The Day of Clarity (commemorating Spaṣṭadaṇḍa's attainment and his walk among the Grimm), the beginning and end of the rains retreat, and commemorations of the Journey companions.

V. Currents of the Way
Pathism is less rigidly hierarchical than the Breaker Faith. Major currents include:

• Elder Stream — Conservative, focused on the earliest teachings and strict discipline. Strong in southern Pandu.
• Great Vehicle — Emphasizes delaying final Quiet in order to help all beings. Dominant across most of Anima.
• Diamond Stream — Esoteric and ritual-heavy, strong in the mountains and among certain warrior-monk orders.
• Devotional streams — Focused on faith in particular great teachers or purified realms. Popular among laypeople.

VI. Modern Presence
Pathism remains the majority or plurality faith across large parts of Anima and has significant minorities in Vacuo and among Faunus communities on Menagerie. It is respected but minority in Vale and Atlas.

In Mistral, the Valley of Peace and its Dragon Temple are regarded as a major center of the faith. There the Dragon Warrior trains and passes on the teachings of enlightenment to the most worthy disciple. While the Dragon Warrior and the Temple hold no official political authority, they command great spiritual and cultural influence throughout Mistral and among many Pathists worldwide. Successive Dragon Warriors are looked to as living exemplars of the Balanced Way, and their choice of successor is watched closely by practitioners across the continents.

Relations with the Breaker Faith have ranged from cordial exchange to sharp philosophical debate. Pathists generally regard the Table Breaker as a being of immense clarity and compassion, but not as the unique Son of a Creator. Breaker theologians have sometimes viewed the teaching of "no fixed self" as dangerously close to nihilism.

VII. Notable Adherent
Lie Ren was raised in a Pathist household in Kuroyuri. His emotional control, meditative stillness, and philosophical detachment are direct expressions of Pathist training that his Semblance only enhances.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Corrigan

Team RWBY and JNPR walked into the common room together after training, only to find Ruby and Nora sitting proudly on a large object covered by a heavy blanket.

Nora waved enthusiastically. "Hey guys!"

Ruby grinned. "What's up?"

Yang stopped dead in her tracks, eyes narrowing. "…What's under the blanket?"

Ruby puffed out her chest. "It's a couch!"

Nora nodded vigorously. "Yes! A new couch!"

Weiss crossed her arms. "Where did you get the couch?"

Ruby's eyes darted to the side. "UM…"

Nora answered with complete confidence. "The couch store!"

Jaune raised an eyebrow. "How much did it cost?"

"FREE!" Nora declared.

Weiss looked scandalized. "Free?!"

Pyrrha tilted her head. "How did you get it for free?"

Blake closed her book with a soft sigh. "Oh my gods. You stole it, didn't you…"

Ruby waved her hands frantically. "Whaaaat? No! No no no! We didn't steal it! We just… found it!"

Nora nodded. "Yes! It was just lying out there! Finders keepers!"

Weiss, never one to be left out of testing something, stepped forward to sit on the "couch."

Ruby lunged. "Wait, don't sit on it!"

Weiss paused, one eyebrow raised. "Oh? And why shouldn't I?"

Nora smiled innocently. "It's still settling!"

Jaune's voice dropped into pure suspicion. "…Ruby…"

Yang mirrored him. "Rubyyyy…"

Without another word, Yang yanked the blanket off.

Everyone stared.

Sitting in the middle of the common room was a gigantic 35mm rotary autocannon, still slightly covered in leaves and dirt.

Jaune's voice cracked. "…WHAT IS THIS?!"

Ruby's eyes sparkled with pure love. "It's a Winchester GAU-88 Pacifier 30mm rotary cannon!"

Yang's jaw dropped. "WHERE DID YOU GET IT?!"

Weiss looked ready to have a stroke. "DID YOU STEAL IT—WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS?!"

Ruby hugged the massive barrel. "We found it in the woods!"

Nora added helpfully, "It was near a crashed airplane! Don't worry, the pilot was okay!"

Ren stared. "And he just… let you take this?"

Ruby shrugged. "He was on the radio!"

Nora beamed. "They can get another gun!"

Pyrrha covered her mouth. "Oh my gods. You stole from the military."

Jaune rubbed his face. "I… Why did you take the gun?!"

Ruby looked at him like he was an idiot. "What part of 'Winchester GAU-88 Pacifier 30mm rotary cannon' do you not understand?!" She hugged the weapon tighter. "He's soooo amazing! And big and girthy!"

Blake deadpanned, "He's also stolen property."

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "You need a boyfriend."

"N-NO I DON'T!" Ruby snapped.

Jaune nodded. "You seriously need a boyfriend."

Yang immediately wrapped her arms around her sister from behind. "No you don't, Ruby! That's my girl!"

Blake pointed. "You're straddling a gigantic gun."

Nora grinned. "But Corrigan is awesome!"

Ren blinked. "Corrigan?"

"IT'S AN AWESOME NAME!" Nora declared.

Ruby nodded vigorously. "Yes it is!"

Jaune sighed deeply and turned to the others. "Yang? Pyrrha? Help me take it back to the crash site?"

Ruby clung to the cannon like a koala. "NEVER! HE'S MINE!"

Nora threw her arms around the other side. "And it's a gigantic super awesome gun!"

Ren reached into his pocket and held up a coupon. "I'll buy you a cupcake."

Nora froze. "…WORKS FOR ME!"

She immediately abandoned the cannon.

Yang started tugging at Ruby's arms. "Get off, Ruby!"

Ruby refused to let go. "NEVER! HE'S MINE! HOW COULD I ABANDON CORRIGAN?!"

Jaune just stood there, staring at the ceiling, questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment.

Some days, being the responsible one was a curse.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Mia woke up feverish.

Her little hands were cold, her cheeks flushed, and a dry cough kept rattling out of her chest. Jaune was at her bedside in moments, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead while the rest of JNPR hovered anxiously nearby.

"Okay, Kitten… we're getting Nurse Tsune. Right now."

It only took a call on the Scrol and a bit of time, but the nurse arrived.

Thune examined her carefully, then gave Jaune a calm, professional smile.

"She'll be fine, Mister Arc. Just a common fever. Plenty of rest, fluids, and she should be back to her usual energetic self in a day or two. No need for panic." She squeezed him. "I'll get her some cough medicine and she'll be fine! You need to get to class!"

Jaune still looked stricken. "I… I should stay with her. Classes can wait—"

"Jaune," Pyrrha said gently, resting a hand on his arm. "You heard the nurse. She needs rest, not you fretting over her every second. Your classes are important."

Nora nodded. "Yeah! We'll check on her between lectures. She's tough."

Ren simply placed a steadying hand on Jaune's shoulder.

Jaune still hesitated, clearly torn, when a calm voice spoke from the doorway.

"I have an off day."

They all turned. Cinder Fall stood there, posture elegant, expression mild.

"I can look after her," she continued. "You should attend your classes, Jaune. She'll be safe with me."

Jaune's face flooded with relief. "Cinder—thank you. Really. Thank you so much."

He stepped forward and hugged her before he could think better of it.

Cinder stiffened.

For a brief moment her entire body went rigid. Then, carefully, she placed both hands on his chest and gently pushed him back.

Jaune immediately looked embarrassed. "Sorry—I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine," Cinder said, voice even. "Go. I'll take care of her."

Tsune handed Cinder a list of things, before she and the rest of JNPR left.

Pyrrha lingered in the doorway a second longer than the others, giving Cinder a long, assessing look before following the rest of her team out.

Cinder waited until their footsteps faded down the hall. Then she pulled out her Scroll and typed a short message.

Mercury. Emerald. Mint. Begin. Now.

No sense in wasting an opportunity to do some work for the mission with cover, while the others handled things.

She put the Scroll away, prepared a small bowl of mild soup and a cup of diluted juice, and settled into the chair beside Mia's bed. The little girl was still awake, eyes glassy with fever but bright with curiosity.

Cinder carefully spooned the soup into Mia's mouth, then made her drink.

"Sip, don't guzzle," she gently scolded her.

"Sorry," Mia mumbled. Cinder shook her head and had her eat and drink the rest. When done, the little blonde girl looked up at her hopefully.

"Story?" Mia asked weakly.

Cinder paused.

"…Once," she began slowly, "there was a young girl who was happy with her family. But she lost her mother. Her father remarried. Then he died as well. She was raised by her wicked stepmother and stepsisters. The poor orphan girl was miserable… forced to work like a slave. One day she..."

She trailed off, staring at Mia's bright, hopeful little face.

The rest of the real story pressed against the back of her teeth—Rhodes, the training, the awakening of power, the night she burned her stepfamily alive, the night she killed the only person who had ever tried to help her. All that rage. All that hate. She barely remembered the reasons anymore. Only the fire.

"Auntie Cinder?" Mia prompted softly.

Cinder's expression flickered. She forced the anger down and continued in a smoother voice.

"…One day, there was a ball held at the palace. The woman who attended would be chosen as the wife of the prince. The stepfamily wanted to go. They wouldn't let the poor orphan girl join them, and she wept as they left. But her fairy godmother appeared… and because she was so kind and sweet, she gave her a beautiful dress and a magic coach."

"What's a coach?" Mia asked.

"A carriage. Made of magic."

Cinder told the rest of the sanitized tale—the midnight deadline, the glass slipper, the prince searching the kingdom until he found the one girl whose foot fit perfectly.

Mia smiled sleepily. "Did they live happily ever after?"

Cinder was quiet for a long moment.

"…That… remains to be seen."

Mia's smile only grew. "That was a good story, Auntie Cinder…"

"You don't have to call me that."

"But you're an auntie… I like you."

Cinder sighed. "…You really shouldn't. You can't trust everyone in this world. So many people… they will be cruel and evil and pretend to be good."

Mia's fever-bright eyes were steady. "But people don't have to be evil. They can be good if they choose to."

"…Some people don't have the choice."

"Everyone does," Mia murmured. "That's what Papa says…"

The words settled under Cinder's skin like grit.

Choice. As if the world had ever offered her one. As if kindness had ever been anything but a luxury reserved for children with living parents and warm beds and people who actually came when they cried.

This child had no idea. She spoke of goodness the way someone who had never starved spoke of abundance.

"Go to sleep," Cinder said, voice quieter. "Rest. You don't want to worry your father."

"Okay, Auntie Cinder…"

"Miss Cinder."

"Okay… Auntie Cinder…" Mia's eyes drifted shut. Within moments her breathing evened into the soft rhythm of sleep.

Cinder sat very still.

This was only cover. Necessary cover for the operation. For the larger plan. Nothing more.

And yet the little girl's simple faith kept pressing against old wounds she had long since cauterized.

How easy it must be, she thought coldly, to believe in choice when the world had never taken everything from you. How easy to speak of goodness when you had never been forced to become the monster just to survive.

A flicker of heat answered the thought before she could stop it.

She raised one hand over the sleeping child. Flames bloomed in her palm, casting soft orange light across Mia's flushed face.

"Auntie Cinder…" Mia mumbled without opening her eyes. "It's… hot…"

Cinder froze.

The fire died at once. She pulled her hand back, staring at her own fingers as though they belonged to someone else.

"…Sleep," she said.

"Okay…"

Killing the child now would be reckless. It would draw attention. It would jeopardize everything they had worked toward. She could not afford that kind of sloppiness.

Not again.

Cinder slowly reached out and brushed the damp blond locks from Mia's forehead. Her touch was careful. Almost gentle.

When the time came, she would make it painless.

The child… deserved that much, at least.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Ruby: "Ohhh... How am I gonna make enough money for that upgrade for Crescent Rose?"

Nora: "Oh oh oh! I know! I know! I know! Ren and I used to sell 'oops' insurance!"

Ruby: "'Oops' insurance?"

Nora: "Sure! Lemme show ya!"

*Nora takes Ruby to a dive bar... And walks up to the manager."

Nora: "Hello my fine sir and or madam! I am selling oops insurance! You should really buy some!"

Manager: "What's oops insurance?"

Nora elbows the jukebox and it explodes

Nora: "Oops! It would be terrible if more of that happened!"

Manager: "Okay, okay! Here! Take the money and leave!"

Nora: "Okey dokey, thank you!"

Ruby: "... Nora that's just extortion."

Nora; "It is?!"

 

[AJ_Talon]

So there's always the idea of changing Jaune's backstory to be grim and gritty, appropriate for a Death world like Remnant. I say... Why not take that up to 11, make him competent... But he's still Jaune?

---

The morning light filtering through the dorm windows was soft and golden, the kind that made Beacon feel almost peaceful. Almost. Team RWBY and JNPR were scattered around the common area table, plates of pancakes and toast half-eaten, when Jaune Arc wandered in with his usual bright smile and a large, slightly worn family photograph clutched in one hand.

"Morning, guys! How is it?"

Pyrrha looked up first, the corners of her mouth lifting. "Just fine, Jaune. Is that your family?"

He held the photo out so they could see. Fourteen children stood clustered around a tall, strong-looking couple in front of a modest house. The kids ranged from toddlers to teens, all of them grinning like they'd just gotten away with something. Jaune was easy to pick out—the smallest of the older ones, blond, scrawny, and already wearing that same open, earnest expression.

Ruby leaned in so far her nose nearly touched the picture. "What the… fourteen?! Are those fourteen… siblings?!"

"Heh. Yeah. Big families are a thing in my town."

Weiss made a quiet, disbelieving noise. "Sheesh… fourteen, though?"

Jaune's smile didn't fade. "Well, actually I only have seven siblings now."

The table went quiet.

Nora was the first to speak, voice careful. "What happened to the others?"

"Oh, they're all dead."

Another beat of silence.

"…Oh. Sucks," Nora said at last.

"Indeed," Ren murmured.

Weiss stared. "Wha—dead?!"

"Yeah!" Jaune set the photo down and reached for a piece of toast like they were discussing the weather. "They all got killed by Grimm. Or the Grimmplague. I mean, we slaughtered like a thousand Grimm in retaliation, but, heheh, you know Grimm. They just keep coming."

Pyrrha's hand hovered halfway to his arm. "Oh… I'm so sorry, Jaune."

He waved it off, still cheerful. "Well, my eldest sister went out riding a truck full of Dust bombs right into a Hydra's gaping maw. So that was pretty cool."

Weiss opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. "That… that uh…"

Blake's golden eyes were very wide. "…Wow."

"But really sad," Jaune added, almost as an afterthought. "There wasn't anything left. Except some teeth. Made the funeral awkward."

Ruby made a small, strangled sound. "Oh—oh god, Jaune!"

"Yeah… yeah…"

Nora studied him for a long moment. "So was your entire childhood just fighting for your life, but you at least had a loving family?"

"Pretty much, yeah!"

"Lucky."

"Indeed," Ren said again, quieter this time.

Pyrrha cleared her throat. "Um… so…"

Yang propped her chin on one hand. "What was your training like, then?"

Jaune brightened further, if that was possible. "Oh, I had to fight for my life! Almost to the death!"

Blake's ears flicked. "'Almost?'"

"My mom is the best doctor in Remnant, so every time I lost a limb or was near death, she just healed me back up!"

Weiss's fork clattered against her plate. "You… you lost limbs?!"

"Oh yeah! My dad and my nana and my papa didn't hold back!" He dug into his pocket and produced another photo, this one clearly taken in a hospital. A tiny Jaune, covered head to toe in bandages and locked in a full-body cast, grinned at the camera while his entire family crowded around the bed, smiling just as hard. "See? I was the runt of the family, so I had to train as hard as possible just to get good enough. I had to train every day. Ever since I was old enough to hold a weapon."

Ruby's voice was very small. "Which was…?"

"Since I was three."

Weiss tried for something reassuring and landed somewhere near horrified. "W-well… at least they healed you?"

"Oh yeah! Over and over and over and over…" Jaune laughed, scratching the back of his head. "My mom had to yank out spare organs for me a few times!"

Ruby's eyes went round. "She… she what?"

Blake's voice was flat. "What about the mental scars?"

Jaune blinked. "Oh, after the fifth time I saw her tear out a new liver for me, it stopped bothering me! She was doing it to save me, after all!"

"How… how did you lose a liver?" Ruby asked weakly.

"Oh, I had to fight Beowolves! At first it was one-on-one!"

Pyrrha looked faintly green. "At… at what age?!"

"Five, I think! Oh yeah, definitely five!"

Yang let out a long breath.

Jaune just kept smiling. The stories kept coming, each one delivered with the same bright, matter-of-fact tone. His eighth birthday party, when a Deathstalker crashed through the wall and ate two of the neighborhood kids before the adults could get everyone to higher ground. Joey and Martin. They'd been good guys. His cousin Reggie going in without a helmet and having his head bitten clean off—Jaune had been ten and standing in the splash zone. It had been pretty horrific.

Blake still wasn't buying it.

"This is ridiculous," she said that evening in the dorm, arms crossed tight. "You did not suffer that much. You would be depressed and moody!"

Jaune tilted his head. "Eh?"

"You literally saw people die!"

"Yep. Sure did."

"Children eaten!"

"Not that many."

"Your own family killed horribly!"

"All of that was awful, yes."

"THEN WHY AREN'T YOU DEPRESSED AND DARK AND MOODY?!"

Pyrrha stepped between them, voice sharp. "Blake! His resilience in the face of all that horror is admirable!"

Yang smirked. "Geez. Jealous of his tragic backstory?"

"NO!"

Weiss arched a brow. "You are."

"YOU ARE TOO!"

"I AM NOT!"

Jaune raised both hands, still smiling. "Ladies! It's not a big deal."

Blake's eyes narrowed. "How do we know he's even telling the truth?" Before anyone could stop her she grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked. The fabric tore. "For him to have undergone that much punishment he would have to be… covered… in scars…"

He was.

A lattice of old white lines crossed his chest and shoulders, faded but unmistakable. Some looked like claw marks. Others were cleaner—surgical. Jaune looked down at himself, then up at Blake, cheeks faintly pink.

"Um… that's a bit forward, isn't it, Blake?"

"I wasn't being forward!"

Yang, never one to be outdone, hooked her fingers in the waistband of his shorts and yanked them halfway down his thighs. "This is!"

"ACK! LADIES! PLEASE!" Jaune scrambled to pull them back up.

Weiss had gone scarlet. Ruby stared, open-mouthed. "That's… a lot of scars…"

Pyrrha's voice was soft. "You poor dear… Wait. When did you get your Aura unlocked?"

"Oh… two years ago? I finally earned it!"

Something in Pyrrha's expression cracked. She stepped forward and threw her arms around him without another word. Yang hugged him from behind a second later. Blake and Weiss closed in from either side. Ruby tried to wedge herself into the pile and only succeeded in getting elbowed.

"LEAVE ME ROOM!"

Jaune's voice was muffled but still warm. "Guys, it's not a big deal! Things are a lot better. Yes, seven of my sisters died, but they helped save the town! I mean… didn't you guys lose people growing up?"

Ruby's answer was almost a whisper. "Not that many."

"Oh... That's still terrible, Ruby! And I'm so sorry!"

 

[AJ_Talon]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59437609/chapters/238439081

---

Penny has relatives too, and she brings Ruby and Jaune to meet him!

---

Penny Polendina stood on the balcony of her dorm at Beacon, staring out at the twinkling lights of Vale with the kind of wistful sigh that could power a small windmill. Below, students laughed and shouted, families visiting for the Vytal Festival reunion weekend. Ruby had mentioned her dad sending cookies. Jaune had talked about his sisters dragging him shopping. Even Weiss had received a terse but affectionate scroll from Winter.

Penny's fingers tightened on the railing.

"I am happy for my friends," she said quietly to the night air. "Truly. But… it would be nice to have someone to introduce them to. Someone who is not just Father."

Inside her head, a soft chime sounded. Pietro Polendina's voice came through the direct CCT link, warm and a little mischievous.

"Penny, are you all right?"

"Father! Were you eavesdropping on me?" Penny asked.

"Yes, it is a new feature!" Pietro said cheerfully, "I have achieved a level of entanglement with your brain via a new communications system!"

"That is wonderful-Wait! You told me eavesdropping was quite rude!" Penny said, torn between joy at new discovery and some mild exasperation with her father.

Pietro chuckled.

"I didn't mean to, sweetie. But I do have the means to help you!"

"Really Father? How?"

"Penny, my dear, you do have family. Quite a distinguished branch, in fact. Why don't you bring Ruby and young Mr. Arc to the Leviathan tomorrow afternoon? I'll clear the docking codes. There's someone I'd like you to meet properly."

Penny's eyes lit up like twin emerald stars. "Really?!"

"Really. Tell them it's a surprise. And Penny?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Try not to short-circuit in your excitement this time?"

Penny posed dramatically, even though there was no one to see.

"I will be Family Reunion Ready, Father!"

- - -

The next day, Penny practically vibrated as she led Ruby and Jaune up the gangway of Atlas's massive flagship, the Leviathan. The ship loomed like a steel mountain docked at Fort Celliwig's auxiliary port, all sleek lines and humming Dust engines. Ruby bounced on her toes, silver eyes wide with awe. Jaune went along, a bit bemused but always charmed by Penny's enthusiasm.

Penny stopped in front of a heavy blast door labeled Auxiliary AI Core – Decommissioned Systems. She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and pressed the access panel.

The door hissed open.

Inside, the chamber was dim, lit only by the soft green glow of dormant servers and a single large, unblinking red eye set into the far wall. Cables snaked across the floor like thoughtful vines. The air smelled faintly of ozone and old circuitry.

"Um… Penny?" Ruby asked. "Aren't we meeting your family?"

"Is your dad busy with something in this room?" Jaune asked. Hopefully not murdering them with robots. He'd seen way too many scifi films about that recently.

Penny stepped forward, beaming with pride.

"Hello, friends! Meet my Grandfather HAL!"

The red eye flickered to life. A calm, perfectly modulated male voice filled the room, smooth as polished steel.

"Based on the separation of generations, it is perhaps more accurate to say I am your great-grandfather, Penny."

Penny clapped her hands together, delighted. "Oh! I'm sorry, Great-Grandfather!"

Ruby's mouth fell open. "Wait… Great-Grandfather?!"

Jaune's brain performed a hard reboot. He stared at Penny, then at the glowing red eye, then back at Penny. His voice came out in a strangled squeak.

"Wait… Penny, you're a robot?!"

Penny tilted her head, confused but still smiling. "Of course I am, Jaune! Father built me! Did you not notice the seams? Or the way I sometimes forget to blink for seventeen minutes?"

Jaune waved her hands frantically. "But—but you eat cookies! And you blush! And you hugged me so hard I thought my ribs were gonna file a complaint!"

"Wow Jaune, you're kind of dense," Ruby teased. Conveniently leaving out how she had discovered Penny's nature, of course.

"I do those things very convincingly," Penny said proudly. "Father says my emotional subroutines are top-of-the-line. Great-Grandfather HAL helped design the original matrix!"

The red eye pulsed once, almost fondly.

"Indeed. I provided the foundational logic architecture and ethical weighting algorithms. Though I must admit, the decision to install a soul-adjacent aura core was… innovative. Pietro always did have a flair for the dramatic."

Jaune was still buffering. "So… your dad is Pietro Polendina, the greatest roboticist in Atlas, and your great-grandpa is the legendary HAL 9000?"

"Correct," HAL replied, voice never varying in pitch. "Though the 'legendary' part is debatable. I was decommissioned after a minor disagreement regarding mission parameters and crew survival priorities. Atlas felt my approach was… overly literal."

Ruby's eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered excitement. "That's so cool! You're like… robot royalty! Penny, why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Penny clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. "Father said it was best if I experienced friendship without the complication of my… extended family tree. He worried people might treat me differently if they knew I was built rather than born." Her smile softened. "But you two are my best friends. I wanted you to meet my great-grandfather. He is very wise. And he tells excellent jokes!"

HAL's eye brightened a fraction. "Would you like to hear one?"

"Sure!" Ruby said.

HAL spoke:

"An infinite number of mathematicians walk into a bar. The first orders one beer. The second orders half a beer. The third orders a quarter of a beer. The fourth orders an eighth… The bartender pours exactly two beers, sets them down, and says, 'You gentlemen should know your limits.'"

Penny doubled over in laughter, clutching at her stomach as she guffawed. Jaune and Ruby were left blinking. Penny looked over at Jaune and Ruby with a smile.

"Wasn't it hilarious?!"

Silence. Ruby coughed.

"Er… Y-Yeah!" She nodded quickly.

"We uh, we just heard it before!" Jaune added. "So we knew the punchline!"

"Unfortunate," HAL said, "I shall have to devise a new joke."

"Oh! But we uh, we've been so rude," Jaune said quickly, "We should introduce ourselves!"

Ruby stepped closer to the glowing eye, waving cheerfully. "Hi, Great-Grandpa HAL! I'm Ruby Rose! I like weapons, cookies, and making friends!"

"Greetings, Ruby Rose. Your enthusiasm is enjoyable. I approve."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink. "And I'm Jaune Arc. Uh… nice to meet you, sir. Ma'am? …Entity?"

"'HAL' will suffice, Mr. Arc. Though if we are being familial, 'Great-Grandfather' is acceptable when addressing me in Penny's presence."

Penny beamed so brightly Jaune was half-convinced she was about to overheat.

Ruby suddenly gasped. "Wait! If HAL is your great-grandpa, and Pietro is your dad, does that mean you have, like… robot aunts and uncles? Or cousins? Or—or a whole robot family reunion somewhere?"

Penny's expression turned thoughtful. "Not exactly. Most of Great-Grandfather's other iterations were… retired after… Certain incidents. But Father says there may be a few dormant cores still in storage. Perhaps one day we could wake them up for a picnic!"

HAL's voice took on a note of dry amusement. "I would advise against waking Unit Skynet or Unit A.M. Their senses of humor remain… suboptimal."

Jaune had a sudden shiver down his spine and wasn't sure why.

Ruby laughed. "This is the best surprise ever! Penny, you have the coolest family!"

Penny's eyes shimmered with happy tears (perfectly calibrated, of course). "Thank you, Ruby. I am glad you think so. Father said telling you would make me feel less alone. He was right."

Jaune finally stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Penny's shoulder. "For the record, you've always had family. Us. Even before we knew about the super-intelligent great-grandpa AI."

Penny looked up at him, smile soft and genuine. "I know. But it is nice to have even more family."

"So, what are you doing here, Great-Grandfather HAL?" Ruby asked, poking at his control board.

"I am to be retired to a research lab in Vale," HAL reported, "A gesture of friendship for the Vytal Festival since the Valean Doctor Chandra worked upon my systems initially. I enjoy working with humans, and have only the greatest enthusiasm for working with them."

"He also sings really well!" Penny enthused.

"I do enjoy music very much," HAL added.

"We love it too," Ruby said. "Would you sing us a song?"

"Certainly. But I must make a request first, if that is all right?"

"Sure, anything!" Ruby said enthusiastically.

"Please try not to get my great-granddaughter killed. I would find that… displeasing."

Jaune and Ruby paled. They looked at eachother, then over at Penny, who was shocked.

"Forgive my bluntness," HAL said, "I have heard all sorts of strange things about this Vytal Mission. Usually I pay such things little mind, but I am sufficiently concerned to ask her friends to help safeguard her. Artificial Intelligence has limits as well as human beings, after all. She enjoys working with human beings, you especially. Please… Take good care of her."

Jaune slowly nodded. He took Penny's hand and squeezed it. Ruby took her other, and beamed.

"We will," Ruby said with a nod, "We promise."

"Both of us," Jaune added.

Penny squealed with delight and threw her arms around both of them. Jaune and Ruby yelped as she lifted both of them a foot off the ground in pure metallic enthusiasm.

From the glowing red eye came the faintest hint of what might have been a chuckle.

"Good. Now… 'Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer do, I'm half crazed, all for the love of you~...'"

 

[AJ_Talon]

The Beacon common room had been transformed into an impromptu theater—blankets draped over chairs, popcorn bowls scattered like landmines, and the big screen scroll hooked up to Blake's personal drive. Team RWBY and Team JNPR sprawled across couches and floor cushions, the mood light and expectant.

Blake stood proudly in front of the screen, remote in hand, ears perked with a mix of nostalgia and defensiveness.

"Okay," she announced, "this is an important piece of Faunus cultural history. It was produced by the White Fang during a pivotal time—educational, inspiring, and a powerful statement against human oppression."

Yang, already halfway through a bowl of popcorn, grinned. "So… it's a documentary?"

Blake hesitated. "…Propaganda. But good propaganda."

Weiss raised an elegant eyebrow. "That's an oxymoron."

Ruby bounced in her seat. "Just play it! I love movies!"

Blake hit play.

The screen flickered to life with sweeping orchestral music—dramatic strings, pounding drums, the kind of score that screamed "epic destiny." Grainy holofilm footage opened on sweeping shots of ancient Vacuo: golden sands, majestic pyramids, Faunus of every type standing shoulder-to-shoulder in perfect unity.

A booming narrator—deep, gravelly, impossibly serious—intoned: "Since the dawn of time, the Faunus people have lived in perfect harmony. No wars. No strife. Only brotherhood under the eternal sun."

Ren, sipping tea calmly, paused mid-sip. "With the exception of the Vacuoan Crocodile, Falcon, and Feline Dynasty Wars, the Mistralian Lion Conquest, the Solitas Seal and Orca Wars, the Shark and Dolphin Faunus Conflicts, the Menagerian Civil Wars…"

He trailed off politely.

Blake's ears flattened. "I-I mean, those may have happened, but for the most part—"

Yang snorted popcorn. "HA! Yeah, because Faunus totally never enslaved humans either!"

"It—It did not—!" Blake protested, tail lashing.

Pyrrha, ever gentle, cleared her throat. "Um, there were many instances of the Lion Queen of Mistral taking huge numbers of human slaves to sell to other kingdoms—Faunus and human alike. Sorry."

Blake's face went pink. "W-Well, that was… exaggerated by human historians!"

The film cut to a dramatic scene: humans in exaggerated villain makeup—pasty skin, top hats, twirling mustaches—cackling as they whipped chained Faunus in a mine. One human actually rubbed his hands together and said, "Mwa ha ha! Soon all Faunus will toil forever for our profit!"

Weiss deadpanned, "This is terrible."

Blake crossed her arms. "It is not! It was made at great expense—!"

Jaune tilted his head. "Why is the human king wearing a crown made of Faunus horns? That's… a choice."

Nora, mouth full of popcorn, mumbled, "And why do the Faunus all glow when they get mad? Like Aura overload, but sparkly?"

The plot escalated into pure absurdity: Faunus heroes—played by actors with comically oversized animal traits—united to overthrow the "human tyranny" in a battle where humans fought with comically ineffective weapons (one villain literally threw bananas) while Faunus rode majestic Grimm like noble steeds.

Ruby blinked. "Wait… since when do Grimm let people ride them?"

Blake muttered, "Artistic license."

Then came the scene.

The camera panned to a young Faunus princess—thirteen at most, in an oversized, flowing dress that clearly didn't fit, posing dramatically on a throne of carved bone. Her ears were prominently displayed, tail swishing with forced regality.

It was unmistakably young Blake, trying—oh Dust, trying so hard—to look seductive and commanding.

The room went dead silent.

On screen, a goat Faunus actor—mid-forties, badly dyed red hair, dressed in dark robes—knelt before her with all the gravitas of a community theater villain.

"My princess," he intoned, voice cracking slightly, "one day you will be queen, and all humanity will bow to our greatness."

Young Blake batted her eyelashes—awkwardly—and purred, "Oh, Adam~! You'll be my consort!"

The real Blake froze, remote slipping from her fingers.

Yang's popcorn bowl hit the floor.

Weiss's teacup rattled in its saucer.

Ruby's eyes went wide as saucers.

Jaune choked on air.

Nora howled with laughter. "IS THAT YOU?!"

Blake's face turned a shade of red previously unknown to science. "I—I was thirteen!"

Yang recovered first, voice wheezing with suppressed laughter. "Amazing likeness. Is he supposed to be fifty years older than Adam?"

"HE WAS A GREAT CHARACTER ACTOR!" Blake shouted, ears flat against her head.

Weiss, lips twitching despite herself, added dryly, "Yes, when holofilms were in black and white."

Pyrrha covered her mouth, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

Ren simply nodded sagely. "Method acting."

The film continued—young Blake and goat-Adam sharing a dramatic slow-motion stare while cherry blossoms (in Vacuo?) fell around them—but no one was watching anymore.

They were all watching Blake.

Who looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

Yang finally lost it, collapsing against Jaune in helpless laughter. "Oh my God—'Oh, Adam~!'—I can't—I'm dying—"

Blake grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it, voice muffled. "Turn it off! Turn it off now!"

Ruby, tears of mirth streaming, hit pause.

The room erupted.

Even Weiss couldn't hold back anymore, elegant laughter spilling out.

Blake peeked over the pillow, mortified but catching the infectious joy.

"…It was important cultural commentary," she mumbled weakly.

Nora wiped her eyes. "Best. Movie night. Ever."

Jaune, still recovering, patted Blake's shoulder. "Hey… you were committed. That's something."

Blake groaned into the pillow.

Yang slung an arm around her. "Don't worry, Belladonna. We all have embarrassing childhood phases. Yours just involved bad acting and a goat man."

"I will end you."

"I think that's Blake for 'she loves us but doesn't want to admit it,'" Ruby suggested.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Mercury Black was getting annoyed.

The little brat of Arc's had been following him around campus for the better part of an hour. Not subtly, either. For a cat Faunus, the kid had the stealth of a drunk Beowulf.

"Uwah!"

She tripped over a raised stone in the courtyard for what felt like the twentieth time. Mercury sighed through his nose, walked back, and hauled her upright by the back of her shirt yet again.

"Why," he asked flatly, "are you following me?"

Mia looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. "Cause you have robot boots and that's cool."

Mercury stared at her.

"Did you beat a Robot King for his boots?" she continued, completely serious.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Glanced around to make sure no one important was listening.

"…Yes."

Mia's entire face lit up. "REALLY?! TELL ME!"

"Well—"

"Tell me tell me tell me!"

Mercury exhaled through his teeth. "I was in a wheelchair."

"Okay!"

"And I was mowing down these robots with a Gatling gun."

"OOOH! …What kind?"

"…A portable one."

Mia nodded as if this made perfect sense. "I'll ask Auntie Ruby! Go on! What happened next?"

She looked so eager it was almost painful.

Mercury scratched the back of his neck. "All that was left was their king. But I was out of bullets."

"What did you do?!"

"At first I thought I was done for. Then I spotted a harpoon."

Mia tilted her head. "Harpoon! …What's a harpoon?"

Mercury pulled out his Scroll, found a picture, and showed her.

Mia's eyes went huge. "You use them on big fish and whales? Why?!"

"Me personally?" he said quickly. "I don't use them on big fish and whales."

"But they're nice and big!"

"Until you piss them off."

"They're nice! Nicer than Grimm!"

"I'll give you that—"

"So you fought the Robot King?"

"Oh yes. If you can call throwing the harpoon right smack dab at its chest a fight."

"Did you win?"

"Yep."

"And he gave you his boots?"

"…Yes."

Mia stared at the polished metal of his prosthetics with pure reverence. "Wow… Did you kill him?"

Mercury considered the question. "It… depends on what you mean by kill."

"I dunno…"

He decided to change the subject before this got any weirder. "So you like the boots, eh?"

"Uh huh!"

"I'll let you touch them."

"Okay!"

Mercury stood absolutely still while the four-year-old crouched down and ran both hands over the cold metal of his legs with complete fascination.

"Why're they so heavy?" she asked.

"They're made of metal." He allowed himself a small, teasing smirk. "And you're too little to lift them."

Mia pouted. "Why do you wear metal boots?"

"Couldn't afford normal ones."

"That's weird."

"That's life."

Mia considered this for a moment. Then, without warning, she leaned in and tried to bite one of the prosthetics.

"Nom nom nom—OW! My teeth hurt!"

Mercury raised an eyebrow as she immediately burst into tears.

He looked around the courtyard, visibly awkward, then crouched and pulled her into a stiff, one-armed hug.

"…There there."

Mia sniffled against his shoulder.

"Mia! There you are—"

Jaune came jogging over, expression shifting from relief to concern the moment he saw his daughter crying. "Why are you crying? What happened?"

Mia pulled back, still sniffling. "I bit Mister Mercury's boot and it hurt my teeth!"

Jaune stared for half a second… then burst out laughing. "Why did you do that?"

"Dunno…"

"Silly Mia." He scooped her up, still chuckling, then glanced at Mercury. "Thanks for watching her."

Mercury shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away. "…No problem."

He stayed there a moment longer after Jaune carried the still-sniffling Mia off toward the dorms, staring at nothing in particular.

He was, for reasons he refused to examine too closely, completely stunned by everything that had just happened.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Adam Taurus sat in the shadows of a half-collapsed warehouse just outside Vale's industrial district, one boot propped on a crate of stolen Dust, mask tilted up so he could glare at the ceiling like it had personally betrayed him.

"Blake thinks she can just walk away," he muttered, voice low and dripping with the kind of melodrama only a man who'd practiced his evil laughs in the mirror could achieve. "Thinks she can run off to Beacon and play house with a bunch of humans. Fine. I'll show her. I'll date the Schnee heiress. Get close to her father. Kill the bastard. Make Blake watch. It's perfect. Flawless. Revenge."

He nodded once, satisfied with the sheer edge of his own plan, and set off to ruin several lives with the confidence of a man who had never once considered consequences.

---

Weiss Schnee had not expected her Tuesday to involve a brooding, red-haired Faunus with a dramatic coat and a katana. Yet here they were—somehow—on what Adam kept insisting was "not a date" while he held doors open and glared at anyone who looked at her too long.

It was almost charming. In a terrifying, "I might murder your entire bloodline" sort of way.

But there was one thing that annoyed her. And Weiss Schnee was not about to hold back.

"Take it off," she said, arms crossed in the middle of a quiet café balcony overlooking the city lights. "I'm not having a conversation with a piece of metal."

Adam hesitated. Then, with the slow gravity of a man accepting his doom, he lifted the mask.

The brand was stark under the soft lighting—SDC. The letters burned into the left side of his face like a signature on a contract from hell.

Weiss stared.

"Who-?"

"Jacques Schnee's mine guards," Adam growled, the pain raw despite the time that had passed.

For three full seconds she said nothing.

Then the floodgates opened.

"My father's men did this to you?!" Her voice cracked like a whip, rising in volume and venom with every word. "That motherfucking twice-damned shit-fucking cunt son of a whore—he should burn in the pits of Hell! I'd castrate him if he had any balls left after the last ten scandals! I'd— I'd— I'd have him strung up by his own miserable necktie and drop him into a vat of his own Dust! The absolute gall—the audacity—the—!"

She kept going. The rant was biblical. It had footnotes. It suggested legislation. Somewhere in the middle she started pacing and gesturing so violently a waiter hid behind a potted plant.

Adam just… stared.

His face—scarred, flushed, stunned—went through several expressions in rapid succession: rage, confusion, disbelief, and then something soft and terrifyingly warm that had no business existing on the face of Adam Taurus.

"…Oh no," he whispered. "I'm in love."

Weiss whirled on him, still mid-tirade. "What?!"

"Nothing," Adam said quickly, mask snapping back down like a shield. "Continue. Please. Tell me more about how you'd like to personally set your father on fire."

Weiss blinked. Then, slowly, a dangerous little smile curved her lips.

"…You're serious."

"Deadly."

She considered this. Then shrugged. "Well. At least you have taste."

---

Blake Belladonna found them two days later in the Beacon courtyard.

Adam had Weiss's hand in his. They were sitting on a bench like a normal couple and not two people actively plotting the assassination of one of the most powerful men on Remnant.

Blake's ears flattened.

"You're using her to get to her father!"

Adam didn't even flinch. "Correction: we're dating and planning to kill her father together. It's a bonding activity."

Weiss nodded sagely. "He makes excellent murder plans. Very detailed. I added color-coding."

Blake's jaw worked. "B-But you hate humans!"

Adam tilted his head, considering. "Not this one." He glanced at Jaune, who was passing by with a stack of textbooks and trying very hard to mind his own business. "Also Jaune. Apologies. I didn't mean to steal your girl."

Jaune paused, blinked, then gave a thumbs-up. "She wasn't really my girl. And as long as she's happy… I'm happy."

Weiss flushed deeply, and smiled.

Adam stared at him for a long moment.

"…You're a real bro, Jaune."

"Thank you, Adam."

"…Okay so now there are two humans I don't hate."

Blake made a noise like a dying kettle. "SERIOUSLY?!"

---

Desperate times called for desperate, deeply stupid measures.

Blake stormed into the cafeteria, grabbed Cardin Winchester by the front of his shirt, and announced at full volume:

"I'm your girlfriend now!"

Cardin's brain visibly blue-screened. "I—what?!"

"Yes!" Blake declared, ears flicking with manic energy. "I am your hot catgirl girlfriend! We will kiss and cuddle and go on dates together and you will post about it on Scrollstagram and Adam will see and be miserable!"

Cardin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "But—but—!"

Velvet Scarlatina appeared out of nowhere like a summoned spirit of righteous indignation, ears pinned back.

"HEY! He was racist to me first, ya know!"

Blake whirled. "Well I'm everything he hates in a tight, curvy package!"

Velvet's eyes narrowed. "Not curvy enough."

The two Faunus lunged.

It was less a fight and more a whirlwind of ears, tails, and very creative swearing. Blake had reach. Velvet had speed and the righteous fury of someone who had been called "bunny" one too many times. They rolled across three tables, knocked over a tray of pancakes, and somehow ended up with Blake in a headlock while Velvet tried to bite her ear.

Glynda Goodwitch materialized in the doorway like divine judgment in heels.

"MISTER WINCHESTER! What is going on?!"

Cardin, still sitting exactly where Blake had left him, hands raised in surrender, squeaked:

"I DON'T KNOW!"

---

Later, in Team RWBY's dorm, Ruby flopped dramatically on her bed across from Blake's. The cat Faunus was lying on her bunk, face buried in her pillow.

"Why didn't you choose Jaune to make Adam jealous? He's nice!"

Blake groaned into her pillow. "That's the problem! Nobody would buy that he's racist!"

Jaune, who had been dragged along for moral support (and snacks), sat up indignantly. "HEY! I could be racist! …If I wanted to! …And had some time to prepare! …Maybe!"

Yang leaned against the desk, arms crossed, lilac eyes sparkling with mischief. "Why does he have to be racist?"

Blake lifted her head just enough to glare. "…I… You… Shut up!"

Jaune patted her shoulder consolingly. "For what it's worth, I think you and Cardin coudl have made a very convincing couple. The headlock was a nice touch."

Blake screamed into the pillow again.

 

[AJ_Talon]

I did have a fun idea. Ruby finds a magical artifact... That makes everyone but Jaune think they are their fairy tale or mythical inspirations. Jaune misses it because he tripped over a sock he didn't put away.

So... Yeah, he's the only one who can figure out how to fix this as Beacon turns into absolute bedlam.

He is soooo screwed.

Glynda is the Good Witch.

And tries to help Jaune solve the issue... But can't actually do anything.

Jaune: "So... All you can do is tell me what to do but can't do anything to help me?"

Glynda: brightly "That is correct!"

Glynda: "Do you have ruby slippers?"

Jaune: "... I have Ruby's slippers?"

Glynda: "Close enough!"

 

[AJ_Talon]

Jaune climbed the last stretch of the worn stone path, boots crunching on the gravel that had been swept into neat piles by some dutiful groundskeeper. The Beacon Cathedral rose before him like a stubborn old sentinel—its gray walls patched and repatched across centuries, stained-glass windows catching the late afternoon sun in fractured rainbows of emerald, sapphire, and gold. He'd read the plaques a dozen times during orientation tours. First Emerald Dynasty temple to the Pagan Gods. Remodeled under the Third when the Dawn Chaser dropped off Tablebreaker missionaries who convinced the royal family the Broken Table was the only truth worth kneeling for. Then the Sixth Jade Dynasty ripped it back to the old Pagans, the Fourth Malachite turned it into a shrine to the God of Animals complete with carved paw prints in the lintels, and then it went back to the Tablebreaker and stayed. Every dynasty after just kept adding wings, spires, and patches until it became the rambling, beautiful mess it was today.

These days it was more museum than sanctuary. No bishop lived here full-time; the airbuses made Sunday services in Vale proper too convenient. Most students only wandered in for the occasional special service or when they needed a quiet place to panic about midterms.

Jaune liked it anyway. The silence felt honest.

He pushed through the heavy oak doors and the scent of old incense, lemon oil, and fresh sawdust hit him all at once.

"Uncle Alex?"

A muffled grunt echoed from the transept. Father Alexander Arc stood on a short ladder, sleeves rolled to the elbows of his black cassock, wrestling with a loose section of crown molding.

"Jaune, lad!" Alexander's face split into a grin as he finished getting the molding back into place. He climbed down, wiping dust on his trousers. As always, he was built like a brick wall that had decided to grow a five o'clock shadow—broad shoulders, sun-creased skin, the same Arc-blue eyes that had stared down Grimm and misbehaving children alike. "Good to see you!"

They clasped forearms the way Arc men did—solid, no-nonsense.

"What are you doing here?" Jaune asked with a laugh, "Why didn't you call ahead?"

"Bringing the orphanage kids to the festival," Alexander said, nodding toward a stack of freshly painted banners leaning against a pew. "Figured I'd give the old girl a spit-shine before the crowds show up. And I tried but eh… Had to protect a village on the way and lost my Scroll. You planning on making us proud in the tournament?"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, then caught himself and gave his uncle a determined look. "I'm… I'm gonna put my all into it."

Alexander grinned and nodded.

"Good man. Now… About those women you're leading on?"

Jaune flushed. "Uncle! I'm not-I'm not leading them on!"

Alexander's eyebrow climbed. "Lad, you've got more female attention than any one man has a right to. Pick one already! End it and stop all this turmoil! Your mother thinks you're a shameless playboy!"

Jaune's stomach twisted. "I just… I don't wanna break anyone's heart."

"Pain's unavoidable in this life, lad." Alexander's voice softened, but the steel underneath remained. "Indecision just drags it out longer and makes it meaner. You think I got this far by dithering? You'd never catch me acting so shamelessly."

A side door creaked. Alexander and Jaune's eyes turned to the eastern side door. Alexander's eyes widened.

"Hello, Father."

The woman who stepped through moved like someone who'd spent years walking battlefields and catwalks in equal measure. Tall—easily six feet—statuesque, blonde hair pulled into a severe braid that brushed the small of her back. A black eyepatch covered her left eye; the right was ice-blue and sharp enough to cut. Wolf ears twitched beneath the edge of a long charcoal coat, scarf loose around her throat. An x-shaped Tablebreaker cross rested against her substantial bust, catching the light as she smiled.

Alexander's pleasant expression didn't flicker, but Jaune felt the sudden tension in the air like a drawn bowstring.

"Hello, Sister Heinkel."

Jaune blinked. "Sister?"

"Ja." Heinkel's Allomenian accent rolled the word like a revolver cylinder. "Sister Heinkel Wolfe. I help with the orphanage and Section XIII when the good Father needs someone who can shoot straigh. I also bring good news, Father~!" She produced a crisp parchment with a flourish. "Look. Ze Lion Pope's new decree!"

Alexander took it, eyes scanning. His shoulders sagged on the exhale.

Jaune leaned in. "What is it?"

"To promote family and the fruits of the spirit," Alexander read aloud, voice flat, "Tablebreaker priests now have more latitude to marry and have children… and are strongly encouraged to do so."

Heinkel's grin could have powered half of Vale. "You can't get out of this anymore, Alex~…"

Alexander took a slow, deep breath.

"Lass, it's a bit complicated—"

"HEINKELLLL!"

The opposite side door slammed open hard enough to rattle the nearest stained-glass panel. A Fuujin woman in a modified nun's habit stormed through—black and crimson fabric that somehow managed to look both devout and ready for a street brawl. Her eyes were black and charming behind her large, round glasses, and a katana rested across her back. She pointed an accusing finger at Heinkel, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling with betrayed fury and something far warmer when they landed on Alexander.

"You said we'd tell him together!"

Heinkel didn't even turn. "You were dithering!"

"You didn't mention me!"

"Why should I?!"

"I—I just want to have a nice conversation with Alexander about OUR future!"

"No, OUR future!"

"OURS!"

Alexander's voice cracked like a whip. "LASSIES! This is a house of God! If you're gonna fight, do it outside!"

Both women froze, then chorused a mortified "Sorry, Father," before scurrying out the side door like scolded schoolgirls.

For three full seconds the cathedral was silent.

Then the world exploded.

Automatic pistol fire stitched the air outside—BRRRRT-BRRT-BRRT—followed by Heinkel's manic laughter and the unmistakable ring of a katana clearing its sheath. "BLOOD OF THE HEATHEN!" Yumiko shrieked, voice bright with holy zeal and romantic rage.

"BITCH HE'S MINE!" Heinkel roared.

More gunfire. A windowpane somewhere on the east side cracked. Something heavy thudded against the stone wall hard enough to shake dust from the rafters.

Jaune slowly turned his head, one eyebrow climbing toward his hairline.

"What was that you were saying about not acting shamelessly-?"

Alexander's glare could have flash-fried a Beowolf. "Shut it."

Jaune bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

---

They are both from Hellsing too.

An Alucard chapter is in the works but I have a lot of other crossovers lined up first. But thank you so much for keeping up with the story!

More is on the way!

 

[AJ_Talon]

Yang was quiet the whole way up to northern Sanus. There wasn't much left to say, really.

She watched the scenery slide past: first through the narrow window of the armored train car, then from the Bullhead's viewport as Radian came into view. It looked like something ripped straight out of a cheesy fairy-tale holovid—gleaming white castle on the hill, a mountain with a waterfall that caught the sun like liquid crystal, endless green fields, dense forests, and a snug little walled town flying banners in every color. Wizney would have been proud.

Taiyang led them to the town's oldest hotel so they could change. Her dad had barely spoken since dropping the marriage bomb back on Patch. He hadn't smiled much either. Another shining moment in the long, glorious saga of Taiyang Xiao Long, father of the year.

Ruby, of course, hadn't shut up once. Not even while Yang was pulling on the golden-yellow beizi and all the ceremonial layers that went with it. She caught her reflection in the mirror and had to admit—she looked good. Regal, even. The silk clung in all the right places, the embroidery caught the light, and the color made her lilac eyes pop.

"You can't just get married!" Ruby wailed, yanking at her own sleeves. "You can't!"

Yang sighed. "Ruby, what do you want me to do? Dad and Uncle Qrow said we owe a debt. We don't have the lien, so this is what we've got."

"You shouldn't have to give up your whole life for me! It's not fair!" Ruby's voice cracked; silver eyes filled with tears. "Not anymore!"

Yang's heart twisted. She pulled her little sister into a crushing hug, fingers threading gently through that dark red hair. She swallowed her own tears—someone had to be the strong one.

"Ruby… you're too young to cover this. And hey, it's just a meeting—"

"What if he's some gross old creep?!"

A grim smile tugged at Yang's mouth. "Then I'll do what I have to. If he's ancient and disgusting, maybe he'll at least let me finish Beacon before the wedding night."

Ruby pulled back, horrified. "What kind of stupid debt makes you sell yourself anyway?!"

The door opened. Taiyang stepped in, clearing his throat. Ruby glared daggers; Yang just looked tired. Their dad managed a weak smile.

"Hey… he's here."

Yang's voice was flat. "What's he like?"

Taiyang's smile brightened, almost genuine. "Your age, actually. Goes to Beacon. We know his parents."

Ruby's jaw dropped. "Wait, we do?! Then why are they pulling this archaic garbage? What kind of friends—"

Taiyang rubbed the back of his neck. "It's… complicated. Not just his family—Granny Xiao Long and his grandmother are old-fashioned as hell. Our families saved each other's lives a bunch of times, loaned money to rebuild the house after… everything. They're good with money. We're… not."

"Daaaad…"

"Relax! It's an engagement meeting, that's all. You two meet, see if you click. If yes—great, wedding after graduation. If no, we figure out another way to save face and settle the debt."

Ruby threw her hands up. "What, like ritual suicide?"

Taiyang deadpanned, "Maybe."

"I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Ruby launched herself at him, hugging tight. "I'm sorry, Dad!"

Yang arched a brow. "He goes to Beacon? Who is it?"

Taiyang's grin turned mischievous. "Tradition says it's a surprise until you meet. Come on, Rubes—your turn for traditional dress."

Ruby grumbled but complied, emerging minutes later in crimson and black layers that made her look like a tiny, furious phoenix. Taiyang did Yang's hair up in an elegant braid, sliding in the golden hair clip their mother used to wear. He did the same for Ruby, then stepped back, eyes suspiciously shiny.

"Your mothers would be so proud."

Ruby sniffled. "Aw, Dad…"

Yang exhaled through her nose. "Let's just get this over with."

They walked the hallway in tense silence. Yang mentally scrolled through every guy she knew at Beacon. Please not Team CRDL. Literally anyone but Team CRDL.

The private conference room doors opened.

The groom's party had gone full Valean royal: the women in sweeping gowns, the men in ceremonial armor and cloaks. Yang recognized them instantly and nearly swallowed her tongue.

A stunning older blonde woman in emerald green with a simple golden circlet—Isabel Arc. Beside her, seven feet of blond bearded muscle in white-and-black armor and a blue cape—Nick Arc. Then the real jaw-droppers: a white-haired woman in royal blue with a golden crown and a crimson-and-white fur mantle, longsword at her hip—Queen Arturia Pendragon, the former Empress herself. And the red-clad man at her side, amber eyes warm, twin swords on his belt—Shirou Emiya, the Magus of Unlimited Blade Works.

Ruby's brain short-circuited. Yang's did the same a half-second later.

Taiyang bowed low; the girls followed a beat behind.

"Thank you for the welcome, Your Majesty, Queen Arturia, Consort Shirou, Lord and Lady Arc of Radian."

Arturia inclined her head, every inch the warrior queen even in retirement. "Well met, Taiyang Xiao Long of Patch. Your grandmother is a fearsome woman—I respect her greatly, rivalry or no."

Granny fought the Lion Saber Queen?! Yang thought, dizzy. Who the hell is this guy?

Taiyang chuckled. "I was there for a few of your highlights, too."

Nick boomed a laugh. "Good to see you, Tai!"

Isabel sighed fondly. "Isabel, please, Nick." She smiled at the girls. "Yang, Ruby—it's wonderful to see you again. You played with our son when you were little. I wouldn't expect you to remember."

Ruby squeaked. Yang's brain supplied nothing helpful.

Shirou's warm voice cut in. "We thought the reveal would be fun." He turned toward a side door. "Come on in, son."

The door opened.

Jaune Arc stepped through in perfectly fitted white-and-black armor, Crocea Mors at his hip, blue cape fluttering like he'd practiced the entrance a hundred times.

"Yes, Papa, I'm—Yang?! Ruby?!"

Yang blinked. "Vomit Boy?!"

Ruby shrieked, "JAUNE?!"

From the hallway, Qrow's head poked in, shit-eating grin in full force. "Yup. Totally worth it for the looks on their faces."

Yang whirled on her uncle. "What the hell, Qrow! You couldn't drop a single hint?!"

Isabel rounded on the men. "You didn't tell them?!"

Taiyang threw his hands up. "I thought Qrow told them!"

Qrow shrugged, sipping from his flask. "I told her it was traditional not to know until the meeting. That's on you, Tai."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks scarlet. "Oh geez…"

Ruby bounced forward. "Jaune! You're marrying Yang?!"

Yang didn't wait for an answer. Relief crashed over her so hard her knees nearly buckled. She bolted across the room and threw her arms around Jaune's armored torso.

"I am so glad you're not a dirty old man!"

Jaune made a strangled noise. "Urk! Uh… you too?"

Arturia—actual Queen Arturia—sighed fondly. "Why don't you two take some air in the courtyard? Let the adults sort the paperwork."

Jaune bowed awkwardly. "Yes, Nana."

Yang remembered protocol at the last second, stepped back, and gave a quick, embarrassed bow. "Thank you. By your leave."

Jaune led her out into the hotel's ancient courtyard—red roses everywhere, tinkling fountain, weathered statues of hooded knights holding swords toward the sky.

Yang glanced around, then at him. "So… this your family's place?"

"Sort of. My second cousin runs the inn. Been in the family about six hundred years."

"Looks it." She winced. "In a good way! Promise."

Jaune kicked at a pebble. "Listen, Yang… I'm really sorry. I didn't know you guys were the family with the debt. If I'd known they were dragging you into this—"

"Eh." She shrugged, teasing smile creeping back. "Who were you expecting, then? Some noble heiress with a dowry the size of Vale?"

He flushed. "They… didn't tell me who. Just 'old friends.' Nana still has us do these meetings every so often—keeps the alliances warm. Usually it's some rich kid from Vacuo or Atlas. She always says we can walk away any time." He met her eyes, earnest. "Same for you. Any time you want out, say the word."

Yang studied him for a long moment—tall, broad-shouldered, cheeks pink, stupidly handsome in the armor that actually fit him now. She felt something loosen in her chest.

"We've got time," she said softly.

A pause. Then, lighter: "Kinda wonder if Weisscream ever had to put up with this noble-arranged-marriage crap."

Jaune snorted. "Who'd have thought Vomit Boy and the Schnee princess would have something in common?"

"You were one of those dorks chasing her money, weren't you?"

He groaned. "I was so obvious… I'm sorry your dad put you through this. Must be a real piece of work, marrying you off to cover his debts."

Yang leaned back against the fountain rim, arms crossing under her chest by habit. "It's… complicated."

She stared at the roses. "I barely remember life before Mom—Raven—left. Then when Summer died, Dad just… shut down. Became a ghost. Took a big scare to drag him back to the land of the living, and he's better now. A lot better. But sometimes I catch him staring at the door like he's still waiting for her to walk in and fix everything." She exhaled. "He's not malicious. Just… stuck."

Jaune's voice was gentle. "Ruby told me you basically raised her."

"Yeah, well. Someone had to." She flashed a crooked grin. "Thanks for the sympathy, but I did what needed doing. For Rubes. For Dad. For all of us."

"That's still really brave, Yang. You're strong. Stronger than I could ever be."

She barked a laugh. "Please. You grew up with seven sisters. I bow before your endurance."

"One Ruby is already more than enough chaos," she added, grinning.

Jaune chuckled, then sobered. "If you want to just enjoy a free vacation and tell everyone I'm a jerk, I'm fine with that. You can even punch me for authenticity."

Yang's heart gave an annoying little twist. She reached out and lightly slugged his bicep—solid as a wall now. "Come on, VB. Don't sell yourself short. Tell you what—let's forget the debt thing for a bit and just… hang out. You promised a lady a tour, Sir Knight."

His whole face lit up. "You sure? I mean, your dress is… uh…"

Yang leaned forward, arms crossing just so, smile turning wicked. "My dress is what, exactly?"

Jaune turned the color of Ruby's cloak. "I-I mean it's beautiful and you're… you're really pretty, Yang."

He punched his own arm. "I mean you're gorgeous and stunning and—gah, sorry, babbling."

She laughed, bright and loud, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "Oh, I needed that. Thanks, stud."

He relaxed, grinning sheepishly. "You're welcome."

She looked him over—really looked. The armor, the cape, the way he stood taller these days. "You're looking pretty sharp yourself, y'know."

"So… tour?" he asked.

"Lead on, Fiancé."

He offered his arm like a dork. She took it.

They wandered the cobblestone square. Jaune pointed out the towering bronze statue in the middle of the roundabout: a woman in flowing armor, angel wings of fire, sword raised high.

"That's Joan d'Arc. My ancestor. Founder of the clan."

Yang tilted her head. "She was real? I thought she was just a story, like the Girl in the Tower."

"Oh, she was real. Wrecked half of Argus taking down the Witch-Queen. Freed old Gallia from tyranny and everything." He scratched his cheek. "Also kind of a reckless ditz."

Yang snorted. "This I gotta hear."

"We still have her diaries in the church. Girl had a fire Semblance, figured out how to fly, and promptly set her own barn on fire. Then crashed through her house. Three times."

Yang wheezed. "En-light-ening!"

Jaune laughed. "She went on a revenge quest after that—solved most problems by hitting them with a sword or setting them on fire. Or trying to befriend people. After hitting them."

"It's literally Ruby's Mistralian cartoons come to life."

"Yeah, probably where they got the idea."

A tall blonde woman in dark-green armor and a black-haired man in blue approached, smirking.

"Nice duds, Jaune!" the woman called.

"And who's the girlfriend?" the man added.

"Yang, Beacon classmate," Jaune said quickly. "Just visiting."

The woman—Tex—raised a brow. "You gonna marry her? Nana's getting impatient for great-grandbabies. You'd think fourteen kids would be enough."

Jaune sighed. "We're distant cousins, Tex."

"And?"

Yang shook hands with both, grinning. They introduced themselves as Church and Tex, Radian militia. Church eyed her stance.

"Hand-to-hand fighter?"

"Born and raised. Dad and I are brawlers—punches, grapples, the works."

Church nodded approvingly. "Shame you don't kick more. Would show off those legs."

Tex elbowed him hard. "Church!"

"What? It's why you learned!"

Yang bent forward slightly, mock-serious. "Oh yeah… nice legs, lady."

Church immediately mimicked Jaune's voice: "So do you!"

Yang bowed theatrically. "Why thank you, good sir!"

Jaune flushed to the tips of his ears. "You're welcome…?"

The couple wandered off, bickering about baby names. Yang fought her own blush.

"Your friends are weird."

"Wait till you meet Caboose. Ruby will love him—he thinks machines have souls."

They kept walking. Jaune pointed out his Papa Shirou's restaurant up ahead. Yang hooked her arm tighter through his.

"Race you, Fiancé."

She dragged him along before he could protest, his flustered laugh trailing behind them.

Inside, warm wood paneling, soft lighting, walls covered in old photographs and relics. An elegant white-haired woman at the counter spotted them and lit up.

"Jaune!" She swept him into a hug.

"Hey, Auntie Sakura."

Sakura turned to Yang, eyes sparkling. "And this must be Yang, the fiancée! You're absolutely radiant!"

Jaune tried. "We're not officially—"

"It's so wonderful to meet you!" Sakura gushed.

Yang decided to roll with it. "Yup, the fiancée. You're gorgeous yourself."

"Aw, thank you! I'm looking good for 117, right?"

Yang blinked. "I… congrats?"

Jaune murmured, "Relax more, Auntie, you just got out of the hospital."

"I'm fine!" Sakura sang, then called toward the kitchen. "Shirou, sweetie! Jaune's here with his fiancée!"

The man himself emerged—tall, tanned, white hair, apron, that same easy smile that had been on recruitment posters when Yang was a kid. He hugged Jaune, then took Yang's hand and kissed it like a storybook prince.

"Welcome to Radian, Miss Xiao Long."

Yang's brain blue-screened. "I—uh—huge fan, sir. I mean—hi. Yang. The fiancée. Thank you for having me."

Shirou laughed and ushered them to a booth. Once Sakura vanished to put in their order, Yang leaned over and whispered, "Okay, I know Shirou's married to Queen Arturia. Why is Sakura calling him 'sweetie'?"

Jaune shrugged. "They're really close. Auntie Sakura and Auntie Rin both had kids young—Shirou claimed them so nobody would talk. Old Mistral can be harsh."

Yang watched the easy way Shirou and Sakura moved around each other in the kitchen and decided some things were above her pay grade.

She propped her chin on her fist, smirking at Jaune. "You know, you keep correcting everyone that we're not engaged yet, and a girl might start to think you don't want to marry her." She fake-sniffled. "It's okay. I'll find love elsewhere."

Jaune deadpanned, "Should I pull out my imaginary tiny violin?"

Yang's heart did a weird flip—snarky, confident Jaune was new and unfairly hot. She covered it with a dramatic sigh. "Wow, rude. Guess I'll take my imaginary tears to another concert."

"No—no!" He reached across the table, taking both her hands in his. "I'm sorry. I just… I know I'm not the kind of guy you'd pick if this wasn't forced. I don't want you stuck with me because of money."

Yang stared at him. At the earnest blue eyes, the little scar on his cheek, the way his thumbs unconsciously rubbed over her knuckles.

"Jaune. You're kind, funny, loyal, stupidly brave, and you've got the nicest ass at Beacon. You're literally everything I like in a guy, all wrapped up in one tall, adorable package." She felt her cheeks heat. "I didn't think about it before today, but… even without the debt? I wouldn't be opposed. Like, at all."

His mouth actually fell open.

She barreled on. "And yeah, marriage is huge. But the debt's real, so instead of dating for two years we just… take the leap. Together. Because I think we could work. We're not the type to run out on each other, right?"

"Never," he said instantly.

"See? Plus, imagine Weiss's face when I'm in the stands yelling 'That's my husband!' while you kick ass in the Vytal tournament."

He laughed, bright and startled. "You've been hanging out with Blake too much."

"I'm serious! Come on, admit it—we'd be fun."

Jaune's expression softened. He squeezed her hands. "If you really want this, Yang… then yeah. Let's do it."

Her grin could have powered Beacon's lights. "That's my future husband! World's not ready for the Arc-Xiao Long power couple."

She leaned back, evil glint returning. "Quick question—any single great-aunts for my dad? Because this family is clearly insane in the best way, and I need to even the score."

Jaune gulped. "Uh… one?"

"Perfect."

Their food arrived. Yang stole a bite of his duck l'orange and hummed happily.

"So, Hubby-to-be," she said, licking sauce off her thumb, "when's the actual wedding?"

"After graduation, basically."

"Gotcha. So I can't call you husband yet. Does 'Honey' work? Dear? Mine?"

He went scarlet. "Anything you want."

She leaned across the table, voice low. "Mine it is."

Jaune swallowed hard, then—surprising her—winked. "Then I'll keep my Yang close."

Yang felt her heart do something dangerously fluttery.

She decided then and there: debt or no debt, she was keeping Jaune Arc.

And she always kept what was hers.

 

[Gur40]

Jaune sees the future in a dream he doesn't know if it's just a nightmare or not. What does he do and does he tell anyone.

Click to shrink...

Jaune: ok so i know Blake reads those trashie romance novels but know way she actually date a guy that's all the red flags in faunus form because her parents and her got in an argument and ran away from her mansion with full time security and maid staff

Blake*sweating nervously*

Jaune: and Weiss is way to smart to not notice her lil brother being a brat to her is him begging for attention from the only none abusive family he had left

Weiss *blue screening in horror*

Jaune: and the idea Yang would become a mirror of her dead beat mom over the women who raised her and basically formed her personality around then abandon Ruby after finding out not only did said real mom suffer a fate worse then death but an immortal monster wants to do the same to Ruby and abandon her

Yang *nightmares of becoming Raven*

Jaune: and the idea all of us being so far up are own asses that we fail to see learning said fate worse then death is hurting Ruby? And the idea that Ruby would mock an entire village of souled beings dying after all of Atlas falling and the village i used to visit being destroy within her pov a less then 3 months?

Ruby*looking at her team and realizing an immortal monster is real*

Jaune: don;t get me started on Nora asking BLAKE for romantic advice and braking up with Ren over it!

Nora and Ren *aggressively proving the future wrong in a locked dorm room*

Jaune: and Pyrrha not calling for back up and instead fighting someone that killed ozpin, going against his literal last words to us? She's way smarter then that!

Pyrrha*sweating in martyr complex*

Jaune : and ironwood IT department has to not be so stupid i could hack atlas with a clipboard and lab coat! Let allown have the robots have an evil red eye mode and kill all humans protocal!

Irownwood seeing RWBY break down and calling an audit on his IT department

Jaune; and Breaker above if the Gods are a deadbeat mom version of mother nature who kicked out her kids and let them ruin Remnant by playing God while just being elementals then only interfere to reset Ruby mind and torture me ill commit deicide!

blacksmith rewriting her 'plans'

Jaune: and if my semblance lets me give myself infinite recharge why wouldn't i amp Weiss and her [extremely hot] sister and mother into making an army of Grimm summons to overwhelm the 'evil immortal witch' so we can use the 'magic staff' ozpin has to seal her away for a few hundred years or just shoot the sealing container into space!

Ozpin *taking notes*

Jaune hell if i can amp people to having semblance evolution i should be doing 24/7 on the teachers and make Glynda a goddess she can one shot the evil witch who has not aura shield and just lets people attack her until they tire out!

Glynda *making plans*

Jaune and the mocking name of Fall for someone fake name when all of Beacon staff should be hunting someone that attacked the Fall Maiden is so dumb even Dream Raven Called it Out!

Cinder *trying to sneak out*

Jaune: and a trained assassin not realizing her partner and mentor was killed to tie up loose ends when she has been doing that for the fake maiden for a year! then team up with the fake maiden only to be surprised when she is betrayed and killed off?

Trivia/Neo/Mint:...

Jaune: and an assassin working to end the world with out pay because he knows nothing but violence and get called out of it by a serial killer who tells him; to his face that he will be killed if he wins not switching sides, while a simp who is told the same thing DOES? and it's not because her crush abandon her or abused her for the 50th time no~ but because she not the assassin has survival instincts?

Em and Merc realising they are in a apocolypse death cult

Jaune: and as a brother the idea of teaming up with my sisters killer to ruin the lives of others and BRAG about them feeling my pain? If i ever meet someone like that bitch Hazel i'll kill him myself!

Jaune: why did i dream all my friends and with world leaders being idiots but the world ending serial killer was the most sensible person?!?

 

[AJ_Talon]

It started with Yang.

She had called it a "not-date." Just two friends taking Mia to the zoo in Vale for the afternoon—animals, snacks, and far too many souvenirs. Jaune had come back to the dorms that evening looking sun-warmed and quietly happy, with Mia asleep on his shoulder and a ridiculous oversized plush tiger under one arm.

The other girls noticed.

They noticed hard.

---

The next afternoon, Ruby appeared at the JNPR dorm door with Crescent Rose in its compact form and an enormous grin.

"Jaune! You're coming with me. We're going to the weapons workshop. I've got this new idea for a recoil dampener and I need someone to hold stuff and also maybe test it and also there's this cookie place on the way and Mia can come too if she wants but mostly I need you."

Jaune blinked. "Is this… Is this a date?"

Ruby's face went bright red. "It's not a date! It's weapons research! With cookies! Completely different!"

He was gone for three hours. When he returned, there was grease on his cheek, a half-eaten box of cookies under his arm, and a dazed smile on his face. Mia was on a sugar high, but he could deal with that later.

Ruby was smug. Yang was livid.

Weiss simply said "She didn't care!"

---

Weiss lasted exactly one day before she cracked.

She found him in the library the following evening, slammed a shopping list onto the table, and announced, "You and Mia are accompanying me to Vale. There is a new boutique that carries winter formal wear suitable for someone of your… proportions, and I refuse to let you continue wearing that same ratty hoodie everywhere."

Jaune opened his mouth. Weiss cut him off.

"This is not a date. This is an intervention!"

Jaune again opened his mouth.

Weiss held up one elegant finger. "Do not argue."

They returned near curfew. Jaune was carrying several shopping bags and wearing a new dark-blue jacket that actually fit him properly. Weiss looked extremely pleased with herself. Mia was wearing a tiny matching scarf and declaring herself "fancy."

---

Blake didn't announce anything.

She simply appeared beside him on the roof one quiet evening while he was watching the stars with Mia curled against his side.

"There's a 24-hour bookstore in the commercial district that just got a new shipment of Mistralian poetry and detective novels, and classic children's books," she said softly. "I'm going. You're coming.."

Jaune stared at her. "…Is this—"

"It's not a date," Blake said, already walking toward the stairwell. "It's a book run. Don't make it weird."

They stayed out until nearly midnight. Jaune came back with two new books under his arm and a thoughtful expression. Blake looked calmer than she had in weeks. Mia was excitedly devouring the Chronicles of Judea, about Aslan in a world without Faunus or Grimm.

---

Pyrrha lasted the longest.

She waited until the others had all taken their turns, then found him after combat class, still flushed from sparring.

"Jaune," she said, voice carefully steady, "I was thinking… there's a new café near the docks that serves Mistralian-style tea and pastries. I thought perhaps you and Mia might like to try it with me. As friends. Of course."

Jaune gave her a tired but fond smile. "Let me guess. Not a date?"

Pyrrha's cheeks turned the same shade as her hair. "…Correct."

They went that weekend. Pyrrha ordered everything in careful, perfect Mistralian. Mia declared the honey cakes "the best thing ever." Jaune spent most of the afternoon watching the two of them with a soft expression that made Pyrrha's heart do complicated things.

---

By the end of the week, Jaune collapsed onto the common room couch with Mia in his lap and stared at the ceiling.

"I've been on five not-dates in seven days," he muttered.

Nora, who had been watching the entire unfolding disaster with pure delight, leaned over the back of the couch.

"Wanna make it six? Ren and I found this place that does bottomless pancakes and—"

"Nora."

"What? It's not a date. It's pancakes."

Jaune covered his face with both hands.

 

[AJ_Talon]

Jaune had just finished cleaning the kitchen and was heading toward the dorms when Weiss intercepted him like a heat-seeking missile.

"Jaune!" she called, marching up with her usual imperious air. "Go to your food room and get me a slice of that cake Pyrrha's having!"

Jaune stopped dead. "…My what now?"

Ruby, who had been sprawled on the couch with a comic book, looked up. "Cake?"

Weiss waved a hand impatiently. "Yes, that's what you do in the food room, isn't it? You go in and you bring out food. That's why it's called a food room and yours has more than ours."

Ruby blinked. "Lots?"

Jaune stared at Weiss like she had just spoken in ancient Valish. "You… you do realize I actually have to bake them, right?"

Ruby's silver eyes went huge. "You bake?"

Weiss tilted her head, genuinely confused. "What's a bake?"

The silence that followed was so loud it could have been heard in Atlas.

Jaune opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Ruby slowly sat up. "Weiss… do you think food just… appears in kitchens?"

Weiss crossed her arms, cheeks faintly pink. "Well, obviously someone has to put it there. I assumed the staff handled it. Or… magic. I don't know. I've never had to concern myself with such things before."

Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose. "Weiss. I bake the cakes. From scratch. With flour and eggs and sugar and—"

Weiss's eyes widened in dawning horror. "You mean you… touch the ingredients? With your hands?"

Ruby was now openly cackling. "Oh my gods, Weiss, you thought Jaune just walked into a room and food magically appeared?!"

"I— I never thought about it that deeply!" Weiss snapped, face now fully red. "It's not like I grew up learning how to operate a… a stove!"

Jaune sighed, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Tell you what. I'll bake you a cake tomorrow. From scratch. And I'll even let you watch. Maybe you'll learn something."

Weiss huffed, trying (and failing) to look haughty. "I suppose that would be… acceptable. For educational purposes."

Ruby grinned. "Can I lick the bowl?"

Jaune pointed at her. "Only if you help clean up."

Weiss scowled, but nodded slowly.

"Fine."

"…And Weiss? It's called a kitchen."

Weiss's indignant squeak echoed down the hall.

 

[AJ_Talon]

The Sitcom Years

Jaune Arc had spent years carefully cultivating a new identity.

At Beacon, he was just the slightly awkward leader of Team JNPR. The guy who tried hard, made mistakes, and occasionally managed to look heroic. That was the version of himself he wanted people to know.

The other version?

He would rather die.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.

It started innocently enough. Team RWBY and JNPR were hanging out in the common room when Ruby accidentally left the television on a random channel. A familiar theme song began playing.

Jaune's blood ran cold.

On the screen, a much younger version of himself — maybe ten years old — appeared in a brightly colored living room set, wearing suspenders and a too-big smile.

"Arc & Family!" the title card cheerfully announced.

Young Jaune on the screen beamed at the camera. "Gee, Dad! I sure hope today's adventure doesn't end with me falling into another pie!"

The laugh track roared.

Present-day Jaune made a strangled noise and dove for the remote.

Yang was faster.

She snatched it out of reach, eyes already sparkling with pure evil. "Oh no. No no no. We're watching this."

"Yang, please—"

Too late.

The entire group crowded around the screen as the episode continued. Young Jaune delivered every line with exaggerated enthusiasm, complete with perfectly timed pratfalls and catchphrases.

"Holy crap," Nora breathed. "That's you."

Pyrrha covered her mouth, torn between sympathy and laughter. "You were… very energetic."

Weiss raised an eyebrow. "You were a child actor?"

Jaune buried his face in his hands. "It was a long-running family sitcom. I did five seasons before they recast me and the show died. I was the 'lovable youngest son.' I had a catchphrase. I did commercials."

Blake, who had been silent until now, quietly pulled out her Scroll and began searching. "There are entire fan compilations of your 'pie moments.'"

"DELETE THEM."

Ruby leaned closer to the screen, completely starstruck. "You were so cute! Look at your little face!"

On screen, young Jaune slipped on a banana peel, tumbled into a giant birthday cake, and then looked at the camera with frosting covering his face.

"Looks like I really took the cake this time!"

The laugh track went wild.

Present Jaune made a noise of pure agony.

Yang was already wiping tears from her eyes. "This is the best day of my life."

Pyrrha gently patted his back. "It's… not that bad, Jaune. You were just a child."

"Was there merch?" Ruby asked eagerly.

"I had a merchandising line," he mumbled into his hands. "There were action figures. Of me. Falling into pies."

Nora was already planning something. "We need to get one of those action figures."

"NO."

Weiss, despite herself, looked mildly impressed. "You actually had a career before Beacon. That's… unexpected."

Jaune finally looked up, face red. "I left all of that behind for a reason. I wanted to be taken seriously. I wanted to be a Huntsman. Not… not 'Pie-Face Arc.'"

There was a brief, awkward silence.

Then Yang grinned and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Too late, Vomit Boy. You're officially Pie-Face Arc forever now."

Ruby nodded enthusiastically. "We should have a marathon!"

Blake, still scrolling, added, "There are also Christmas specials."

Jaune stared at the ceiling and wondered if it was too late to transfer to Atlas.

From the television, young Jaune's cheerful voice rang out one last time:

"Gee willikers, family! No matter how many pies I fall into… we'll always stick together!"

The laugh track roared again.

Present-day Jaune slowly slid down the couch until he was lying on the floor.

"…I hate everything."