Chapter 1. Hello Darkness my old Friend
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING. Credit to Monty Oum and Charles Kingsley.
"Perseus, you must do an errand for me.'
'Who are you, lady? And how do you know my name?'
'I am Pallas Athene; and I know the thoughts of all men's hearts, and discern their manhood or their baseness. And from the souls of clay I turn away, and they are blest, but not by me. They fatten at ease, like sheep in the pasture, and eat what they did not sow, like oxen in the stall. They grow and spread, like the gourd along the ground; but, like the gourd, they give no shade to the traveller, and when they are ripe death gathers them, and they go down unloved into hell, and their name vanishes out of the land.
'But to the souls of fire I give more fire, and to those who are manful I give a might more than man's. These are the heroes, the sons of the Immortals, who are blest, but not like the souls of clay. For I drive them forth by strange paths, Perseus, that they may fight the Titans and the monsters, the enemies of Gods and men. Through doubt and need, danger and battle, I drive them; and some of them are slain in the flower of youth, no man knows when or where; and some of them win noble names, and a fair and green old age; but what will be their latter end I know not, and none, save Zeus, the father of Gods and men. Tell me now, Perseus, which of these two sorts of men seem to you more blest?'
Then Perseus answered boldly: 'Better to die in the flower of youth, on the chance of winning a noble name, than to live at ease like the sheep, and die unloved and unrenowned."
In the darkness before dawn, I lay awake, watching the ceiling. On my breast, I could still feel the print of Pyrrha's hand, like the caress of flame. Her words last morning, a prayer, or perhaps an oath, rang in my head, as she had sworn herself to me. To me!
"I release your soul, and by my shoulder I protect you."
In that moment, I could feel what could only be her soul, twined with mine. Fire, bounded by her own fear of disappointing. Light unending, that she'd taught to be held back. Wrath, tempered by learned politeness, and fear of disapproval. A vision of power and drive, apologizing for who she was.
As I lay there, I felt both fear and fury. How could I measure up to that? What was I, a fraud, doing here. How could I do anything but drag her down? I had no skills to match her, and yet she chose me as a partner, thinking I was at least qualified to be here. She had sworn to protect me, but all I would do was be a dead weight on her shoulder. But swallowing all my self-loathing and fear was rage, burning through me like a wildfire. This woman, like an angel of flame, caged behind her own doubt enraged me. Who would dare to do such a thing to her? How dare they force her to hide herself away? How dare they teach her to fear herself? Who would dare to cow her noble spirit?
As I thought this, eyes staring up unseeing, my rage burned cold, following my questioning and thoughts to their logical conclusion. All this led to one simple question, a resolution in my mind.
How was I going to find whoever did this, and murder them?
I wasn't ready. I couldn't help her as I was, with her self, with her enemies, or even here at Beacon. I had to become something more than a dead-weight fraud with my great-great-grandfather's stolen sword. I glanced over to the side, watching the sleeping forms of my team. Why had I been made the leader of them? Every one of them was so far ahead of me, in every possible way. I should have been expelled, not made a leader. What did Ozpin see in me, and how was I going to lead these warriors?
I closed my eyes. I had decided to come to Beacon for a reason, and I wasn't going to give up now, despite the size of the challenge ahead of myself. That thought, of giving up, or accepting failure, was dismissed outright. I would rise to meet it, as I had all other obstacles in my path so far. I had come to Beacon to become a Hero. Now I just had to figure out how. What opportunities and advantages did I have? The gears in my mind turned, and a path appeared.
I rolled out of bed and got moving.
It was still dark when I dressed and left the dorms. I was moving purposefully now, having finally found the map of beacon on my scroll. I had three objectives. I needed to get stronger. I needed to be a good team leader. And I needed to help Pyrrha. The latter two were both out of my reach right now, so I had to focus on the first.
I headed to the library, and made a call. No answer, and I didn't leave a message. Since I had no teacher in combat yet, and I didn't think randomly hacking at stuff would make me much better. But I could do something about my equipment. All the others had better equipment than my stolen sword. Plus, I had been completely helpless when we faced the nevermore yesterday, as I had no ranged option. Ruby had said something about forging her scythe, and that all the students at Signal made their own, so it had to be possible. I needed to build a gun, since I didn't have money to buy one, and then maybe I could look into armor, or a better sword. I didn't know enough to do it yet, so I hit the books.
While I quickly found myself reference material, and basic instructions, but I was quickly lost in details, so I went looking for a book for Dummies. This proved easy to find, but mostly covered weapon maintenance. I went back to the instructions, this time cross referencing it with The Dummies Guide to Huntsman Gear, and the reference material, pulling out other books as needed for more information. The stack of books got higher and higher as it reached the predawn hours. It wasn't long before I had an idea of what I needed to do. I needed help. I needed Ruby. I shelved the books, and went for a run.
I was pretty sure Ruby was still asleep, dawn was still a long ways off, and I needed to clear my head. Running helped, and my Mom had always said it was good for you, so I added it to my list of things to do for training. After the first lap around the school, I was barely jogging, but I kept at it, until dawn truly broke, and my scroll announced that it was almost time for everyone to wake up. I headed back to my dorm, determined to shower before I tried asking a girl for help. Hopefully, I could be finished before the others woke, I wasn't ready to face the team I'd be letting down. I didn't make it.
When I opened the door, Lie Ren looked up at me from where he was sitting on the floor, meditating. He smiled at me, and I tried to muster up a smile, but it probably came off more as a grimace. He closed his eyes, his breathing still even. While I cleaned up pretty quickly, everyone else was moving and unpacking when I got out of the shower. I joined in, and things quickly devolved into a discussion of how to divide up space, and shower times, only to be broken up by our mad rush to class after team RWBY.
Class was, well, interesting. While Professor Port was more than happy to ramble on about himself, he both clearly knew his trade, and was open to practical demonstrations, as evidenced by his bringing a boarbatusk to class. Despite his sad jokes and self-absorption, the absolutely relaxed manner in which he treated the monster impressed me. He was releasing a monster on his student body, and clearly thought it was so far beneath his skills to even consider worrying about the dangers it posed. If I could learn even a fraction of that, at least I wouldn't be as useless in fights.
Ruby had raced after Weiss at the end of class, killing my plan to talk to her after class, so instead I hung back while the others filed out. Professor Port was closing the cage that held the boarbatusk. Walking over, I scooped up the cloth he'd used to cover the cage offering it to him as the last students walked out.
"That was an interesting class, Professor," I offered. "I was wondering if you had time to talk about fighting the Grimm."
"Of course, my boy!" He laughed. "Mr. Arc, was it? I'm always willing to share a story or two about my adventures. What would you like to know?"
"Well, everything, really, sir. I do really well on tests, but I've got almost no practical experience, and I'm not that good at fighting, well, anything." It was a good lie, I thought. It explained my transcript, but it also would let me hopefully explain my ignorance.
His large hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to see him giving me a serious look, before he glanced around the now empty classroom. "That couldn't have been easy to admit, young man. How much help do you need?"
"I..."I hesitated. I didn't want to admit that my combat training was a few sessions with my father years ago, but if he started actually helping me, he'd quickly spot a lie. My shoulders slumped. "A lot," I finally said quietly.
His grip tightened, and I felt him nod. I couldn't meet his gaze, staring at my boots. His voice dropped to a stage whisper. "I have a secret to share, Jaune. Think you can keep it?" My head shot up, and he winked at me. "
When I was a young lad, I thought I was doing well at Beacon. I was a TA, in my fourth year, and on top of the world. Then, the new first years arrived." He laughed, suddenly. "There was this kid, from the middle of nowhere, that had never seen a school before. Can you imagine? His teammates tricked him into thinking that the uniform skirt was a kilt, and he wore it to class." He smiled fondly. "I didn't think much of him. Sure, he was funny, but this kid was going to need all the help I could give him. So, I went to his first combat class, planning to offer him a hand up and some advice when he lost his fight."
Professor Port's eyes went distant. "I still remember seeing him walk onto the stage, weapon sheathed, wearing that stupid skirt. He'd gotten paired against one of the best kids in the class, and I felt so sorry for him. His classmates were laughing at him, and he was clowning it up for them, but everyone knew he was preparing for being humiliated again when he lost."
Even I felt sorry for the poor kid. I could see it now, and I was pretty sure my first combat class would go about the same. I didn't want to know, but I had to ask. "What happened?"
The professor shook his head. "Kid won. Didn't even draw his blade. Kicked his opponent four times before he could even get his guard up, knocking him out of the ring. Just looked up, scanning the class. We were all stunned, dead silent. 'Anyone else want to laugh at me?' Lad sure was cocky. Offered to go two to one. While we were still shocked quiet, he offered three to one. Of course, I couldn't let that pass, so I, Peter Port, offered to meet him in combat!" He laughed again, softer this time. "He beat me like a drum, young man."
My eyes went wide. "What?" Why was he sharing this? I didn't understand.
"Mr. Arc. I understand needing help. Until then, I hadn't realized how much I still had left to learn, even after three years at Beacon. The fact that you are looking for help now shows that you are far ahead of most of your peers."
He patted my shoulder, in reassurance and dismissal. "Bring your equipment to my office hours after combat class today. Is there anything else I can help you with?"
That wasn't what I was expecting. A story, or maybe a few book ideas. But training, with a professor? "I..uh.. No. Thank you, Sir!" He waved me off, and I beat a hasty retreat to lunch, not really believing my luck.
Lunch was a brief affair, where we all ate quickly, and went to the lockers to prepare for combat class. I managed to catch up to team RWBY as we headed towards class.
"Hey, Ruby, got a second?" I tried to be nonchalant and sound confident, but Yang clearly had other plans.
"Hey Vomit-Boy!" She winked. "Should I be worried about you and my little sis?"
"Um, no, I just had a question about forging." Wait, don't insult the girl you want help with. "Um, not saying that she's not cute, or anything! She just told me she's a … awesome with weapons!"
"Uh-huh." Yang folded her arms, clearly unimpressed, but I'd said the magic word.
"Weapons? What do you want? Need help customizing your sword? Or maybe you want to upgrade the shield? I could design a sniper rifle that would.. no, no, that's not quite right. Rocket launcher, or, wait, I know! A minigun! " Ruby appeared between the two of us, already picking up steam.
"Um, maybe all of those? I'm trying to learn about forging." Ruby inhaled sharply, and I'm pretty sure her eyes started sparkling, which I noticed because I was watching the cute girl I was talking to, not because I was suddenly realizing that I might have just sold my equipment and soul to a mad scientist of murder.
"Of course! Definitely! I've already got so many ideas! Um, meet me by the forges after class!" Ruby was clearly excited. "Oh, and maybe a cannon for the shield? Or a dust flamer? Remember to bring goggles! And gloves!"
"Um. Ruby. Ruby! Hang on a sec." She paused for a second, only just beginning to wind up. Clearly I needed to get some control, before we exploded the school. "I just want to learn how to forge my own weapons. Maybe we'll get to some of that cool stuff, but I need to know the basics first. Can we meet after dinner?"
"oh." She deflated, but seemed to immediately bounce back. "Okay. Yeah, I can do that. I'd be happy to help!"
"Just don't blow up the school again, Sis," Yang teased.
Again? "Again!? Am I going to die? Guys?" Should I be worried? Yang isn't explaining anything. "Yang? Anyone?" I'm going to die.
AN: This is not a SI. More of a self-projection. Jaune Arc as I see him in my eyes, tempered with skills that I either have, or understand. He's a character that resonates with me, and in the early seasons, he's a complete goof off, and something of a moron. It works, since he's a comic-relief background character, but it irks me. I participate in sword fighting sports, and I've got a pretty good idea how much work it takes to become both competent, and good at fighting. While yes, it's a lot of work, if you're going to a school designed to make you better at it, and practicing on the side, you'll get good at things quickly.
Additionally, I have found that during my time at college, every professor I spoke to was happy to take time out to give me more information or help between classes. Talking to them after every class was a habit of mine, and helped me a lot. While I can see how someone struggling in class might be ashamed to ask for more help, I think that a Jaune who admits his faults and seriously wants to improve would be willing to ask his teacher to teach him. He clearly has no fear of either shame, public scorn, or rejection, so I can see him being willing to ask for help when he needs it. The point where he refuses Pyrrha's help always bothered me. Plus, I can't see someone as... self-praising as Port turning down a chance to "Pass along a few of my tricks to a brave young lad like myself."
Jaune is clearly not a coward, and he's willing to fight Grimm without training, I'm just giving him a bit of a brain and a push towards competence. He's clearly got some combat sense, some ideas about planning, a basic understanding of how to fight, and a cognizance of when to strike, at least during the fight with the deathstalker, but he's extremely raw, and has little training. Additionally, he's clearly physically strong.
Canonically, Jaune's family knows about him going to Beacon, and his Father is probably alive (given his statements about his parents). That said, if his father was a hero, as he also says, why doesn't he have any training, and why does he need to fake his way in. Wouldn't his parents know about that? My explanation of this will be explained later.
Yes, Jaune is angry right now, and yes, his response isn't the right one. He's young and somewhat naive, but he'll get there.
Also, I'll definitely be toning down the comedy in here.
I assume you know who these people are, so I'll be limiting descriptions and backstory to pertinent information, character's thoughts, and changes.
I really need to do something about starting all my sentences off with "I verbed/did" Also, the ending of some of these scenes could use some work.
Classes appear to run from early in the morning, 9AM, to evening, when Weiss speaks to Port after her confrontation with Ruby. I take this to mean a history or grimm class in the morning, and combat class every afternoon on school days, getting out before dinner. Something like 9-Noon, 1-4. Ish. As long as it suits me, and the narrative agrees.
Finally, I deeply appreciated Coeur Al'Aran's thought of making Torchwick the person Jaune got his transcripts from, and since I'm not a fan of OC's, I thought I'd keep it. Plus, it both makes sense, and offers a nice opportunity for character development. I assume, from the characters we've seen in Vale, that the two were probably introduced by Junior, since Jaune isn't from around. That said, Jaune was on the bullhead from Episode 2, so he now knows who he was dealing with.
Fueled by Disturbed's Sound of Silence. Metallica, Apocalyptica, Two steps from Hell, Celtic angel's Edge of Night, Clamavi de Profundis, and Sabaton