This isn't my story idea. This is an adaptation of Chapter 18 of The Writer Games by College Fool and Coeur Al'Aran. This is taken with permission by CF, who wrote the original fill. So I will try and not disappoint. I also don't own RWBY.

Now that the legal stuff is out of the way: Enjoy!

"Three more office buildings in downtown Vale were targeted by rebellious graffiti last night. Although spread across the commercial district all three bore the signature and style of 'Queen', making this the seventeenth graffiti incident attributed to 'Queen' this month. Although 'Queen' has been vandalizing public property in Vale since the middle of June, the Vale Police Department has no leads as to who they are. In other news, the White Fa-"

The news report was abruptly shut off before the eyes of Jauque Arc. Blue eyes tracked the figure that stalked back and forth in front of the now silent screen. The sharp overhead lighting lead to a stark contrast between light and shadow in the room and made the white jacket of the pacing man gleam while seemingly setting his orange hair aflame. A blue-tinted cloud of smoke coiled up from the cigar gripped in his hand. Taking a brief puff from it, he turned towards Jauque. "I take it you understand why you're here today, Arc?"

Standing up as straight as possible, Jauque looked his superior in the eye. "I would presume, given the context of the news you have shown me, that it would most likely involve this 'Queen' figure they mentioned." Roman Torchwick briefly met his eyes before resuming his pacing with a violent nod. "Quick on the uptake as always kid. This 'Queen' character has been covering the downtown districts in graffiti since the beginning of the summer and is suspected to have ties to rebel colour groups in Vacuo. Unfortunately, our 'esteemed' colleagues over at Vale Police Department have been sitting around with their thumbs up their asses and all they've gathered is that 'Queen' will be attending Beacon Academy in two weeks. Since they proved so useful at finding that little tidbit out, they decided that we over at Interior needed more on our plate aside from dealing with the tatters of the White Fang!"

So this 'Queen' persona is well trained, enough to get into Beacon. This of course meant that they have their Aura unlocked and are proficient in combat. The fact that they have kept the Vale Police essentially in the dark for the entire summer is a testament to their thoroughness and cunning. It should be a good challenge to track them down.

Jauque tilted his head slightly to the side, he could clearly see where Torchwick was headed with this. "I would rightly assume that you want me to track down this 'Queen'?" Roman finally stopped his pacing before flashing a wry grin at him. "Once again, you hit the nail right on the fucking head Arc. You're of age to enter Beacon and the most advantageous part of it all is your backstory is the ideal thing to get you invited into a graffiti gang."

One eyebrow raised in a look of confusion. My backstory? What could he be talking about? "My backstory? I fail to see how being raised in an orphanage will aid me in getting into one of these 'colour gangs'." Torchwick shook his head and motioned to the chair set against the wall. "You might want to take a seat Arc, because I'm not referring to that damn state orphanage. I'm talking about your parents."

Jauque took a seat in the white, upholstered chair, letting his eyes wander about the room. It was an average room, identical to the ones that filled up the wing of the building dedicated to the Ministry of Interior. A wooden desk painted black and a couple chairs made up the furniture of the room. Light gray paint covered the walls and a carpet of slightly darker shade covered the floor. Harsh lighting completed the room and made the lack of anything resembling colour even more evident. "My parents? Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." Roman took a seat in the other chair across from him and extinguished his cigar in the ashtray. Letting out a small sigh, he met Jauque's eyes.

"I take it the orphanage matron never told you about them?" Receiving a brief head shake he continued, "Both of your parents graduated from Beacon with top honours and went on to serve in the military. A few months after you were born they died heroic deaths in the Battle for Dragon's Point. At least that's what the records say. The truth was that they were executed quietly for colour treason. The fact that they were war heroes is enough to get you a legacy scholarship in to Beacon, despite your lack of fighting skills and the colour treason will make the graffiti gangs more likely to invite you to join their ranks."

So my parents were war heroes but also colour traitors. Indeed, that is truly an ideal backstory to work with.

Jauque's train of thought was interrupted by a light cough coming from Roman. He looked up from his musings and quirked an eyebrow in an unspoken question. "There are a few more things you need to know before you ship off Arc. First off, you need your Aura unlocked. Second, you need to train with the CAS-650 and finally, there's some brief info on Beacon you'll need to not seem like an absolute moron when you get there."

Torchwick rose to his feet and crossed the room to stand next to Jauque. Placing his hand firmly on Jauque's shoulder he glanced down at him. "Now then, I'm not the biggest fan of the whole touchy-feely shit but this is necessary to unlock your Aura." When Roman next spoke, his voice had deepened and the timbre taken on a echoing quality. "For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee." An odd choice of words.

A rush of energy flowed through Jauque's body and he felt revitalized. Next to him, Roman gasped briefly as if exhausted before shaking his head, strolling over to his desk and lighting up a cigar. "Those lines were quite... poetic, Sir." Torchwick let out a brief snort before responding. "Those lines have been around since well before the Rebellion, kid. Old words that some would construe as colour treason. But remember this Arc: old words can have power that you aren't expecting."

Pulling a folder out of his desk drawer, he handed it over to Jauque. "Here, this has all the info you need for Beacon. Look it over during the next two weeks till you head off to school. Now head on over to the armory to pick up a CAS-650. One of the staff there can give you a crash course in it so you don't get eaten right off the bat. You are dismissed, Arc." Getting to his feet, Jauque gave a brief salute to Torchwick who responded in kind. Heading out the door, he paused at the threshold as a thought occurred. "Sir, is there any info on my parents in the case that someone asks about them?"

A shuffling of papers could be heard behind him followed by muffled footsteps on carpet. "The whole 'dying when you were a baby' should explain most of your ignorance but you should have this." Turning around, he accepted the extended photograph before looking at it. Three faces with blue eyes and blonde locks stared back at him: a man who appeared to be in his early thirties with short cropped hair and stubble across his cheeks, a woman of similar age with flowing hair down to the small of her back and she held an infant child with wispy strands of hair covering his scalp. Flipping the picture over revealed some writing on the back. 'James Arc, Jeane Arc, Jaune Arc, My word is my bond.' "Who's Jaune and what do these words mean?"

Roman gave a small smile, "That right there's your family. Jaune is the name they gave you when you were born. The state gave you Jauque as a proper colourless name upon entering the orphanage. The words on the back was something your old man used to say all the time. Something about how an Arc always keeps his promises. Got any other questions before you head off to the armory?"

"Just one: when I track down 'Queen' what am I to do?"

Once again Roman smiled, but this one never reached his eyes. "Do your best to find out their real identity. When you do, let us know so we can arrest them as an example to those still in graffiti gangs. You are to give me monthly updates on your progress and you have until the end of the school year, Arc."

"And if I am unable to learn their identity by then?"

"Kill them. I have the utmost faith in you."

"Very well, sir."

So I have around nine to ten months to find this 'Queen'. Should be no trouble. Now then, which way is the armory from here.

The floor vibrated and shook beneath his feet, leading to a minor sense of nausea. Remembering Torchwick's words that a more harmless persona would be easier, he let out another exaggerated groan and observed many potential students of Beacon from his vantage point in one corner of the ship. All of them, him included, were dressed alike: white shirts covered by a black blazer with dark gray trim, matching black pants, a light gray tie and black shoes. Many students were spending the ride one of three ways: on their scrolls, talking with their friends or gazing out the windows at the view. The view from the ship was impressive although Jauque was unable to enjoy it for long as it would clash with his illusion of motion sickness. He was busy evaluating them as potential candidates for informants and allies.

Hmmph, most of these 'students' seem to lack the ability to keep things to themselves or the concept of subtlety. Sadly, I must look further afield for potential 'friends'.

The vibrations and nausea lessened at the same rate as the ship slowed to a stop at the air dock. Letting most of the crowd stampede out the door, Jauque took his time collecting his thoughts before leaving the ship as well. A sea of monochromaticity met his eyes as students flooded towards the main hall of Beacon. Beacon was larger than he imagined it to be, even after studying the folder he got from Torchwick. Most students traveled in silence or in small, quiet conversations between friends. However, an argument to his right between two girls caught his ears.

"You truly are a dolt. Do you have any idea how expensive that Dust was?"

"I'm really sorry. It was an accident."

Turning to his right, a girl with white hair pulled into a perfectly centered ponytail and pale blue eyes entered his vision as she stood over what appeared to be a slightly younger girl with black hair tipped in red who was looking anywhere but at the girl in front of her, clearly embarrassed and uncomfortable with her situation.

Weiss Schnee, heiress of the Schnee Dust Company. I did not know she was attending Beacon.

It seemed the argument between Weiss and the mystery girl had ended as she stalked away from the smaller girl in a huff. The girl on the receiving end of the tirade sighed sadly before sitting on the ground with a 'plop'.

"Welcome to Beacon." A small noise of sadness passed the girls lips.

She seems amiable enough, perhaps I could go help her and gain a potential informant.

He strolled over to the dark-haired girl, putting on his friendliest and most open expression, before extending his hand. "Hey miss, you doing alright?"

She looked at his hand in surprise before accepting it and letting him help her to her feet. The girls looked up at him with piercing eyes of silver before looking back at the ground woth a small shrug. "I'm fine, just bad first impressions, I guess. As well as the fact that my sister ditched me to go hang out with her friends." He smiled gently at her, doing his best to put her at ease. After all, it wouldn't do to alienate himself from potential allies. "Ahh, now that is something I can understand. Pleased to meet you, my name is Jauque Arc. What's yours?"

"Rebecca Rose."

So, my plan for updates is around 1-2 weeks as I have stuff to do that isn't writing. Feel free to react how you want and any reviews are appreciated.

See you next chapter.