A/N: Hello anyone who reads this. I haven't posted anything in ever and I decided on started on a self-insert fic. Now before anyone groans about, I'm not gonna OP myself or give myself any super abilities. If anything, I will make it more difficult for myself just because I am sick of OP characters. On a belated note, I do not own RWBY nor do I own any character except for any potential characters, weapons, and myself.

Now on the show!

Well... This is new.

Have you ever read one of those self-insert fics? If not, then really look through a few. Because I swear to god, most of those fics suck balls. Like balls that are dragged across the floor of a train station. Yeah, that bad. The only one I can name as a really good one is this Fire Emblem one and another from... Oblivion? Or Elder Scroll. Either or, it's still a good fic, read up to eighty something.

Anyway, what I meant to point out is that they just suck. Period. Seriously, these people like to make themselves OP and hax. Fuck that. If I ever wrote one of those fics, than I would at least give myself some modest strength but not MP level (main protagonist), because they seriously are broken as hell.

Yeah, I make fun of that, but funny thing is...

I'm on a goddamned airship and I can't seem to find the damn courtesy bags those with motion sickness. And when I mean airship, I mean that this whale of a ship that is flying over the most beautiful green I've ever seen in my life. And I know for sure that the Earth ain't that beautiful, no matter how much I wish it to be. And if that doesn't sound like a goddamned self-insert then. I don't know what is. Seriously, Earth is Wrecked. Note the capital W.

Not sure if I should mention this, but I have motion sickness. A really, really bad case. Like a few seconds of motion bad. Regardless of whether it is a train of a boat, count on It being really bad to my stomach. And my head. But since I've never been on an airplane( now I have), I'm about to cry. What kind of fucked up situation is this!

Oh look, we're landing, thank you whatever divinity there is out there! ... Oi, don't judge. I'm agnostic, sue me.

Gotta get out, gotta get out, gotta; wait is that a red cloak? The fuck? In this day and age? Wait, focus. Get the hell out of dodge and find an unoccupied vessel for the holy ceremony of emptying my bowels. Or was it my esophagus?

Gah! Fuck it, throw-up first, prioritize later.

And with that, I sprinted to the nearest garbage can I could find.

Huh, someone else is running. I wonder why? He's a blond and he's hold his hands to his... Mouth? And he's screaming "out of my way!" Repeatedly. Wait... No! He's in the same condition as me! Son of a bitch! And he has a headstart! Run little feet, run!

And so I chased the blond bastard across the street, hoping to beat him. But this guy has some long legs, I mean damn! Their like willow trees, long, tall, and fast as hell! Did I mention he is tall, because that's his main advantage against me.

Unfortunately, there were no cans for us to dispense our sickness in, so once he reached this reached and began kneeling his head over it, might as well do the same thing.

And so began the Era of Wretching Noise.

... Which ended five minutes later. Or I think, I don't own a watch.

After emptying my stomach of all content, I turned to my fellow sufferer in his attempt to remove his bowels, and was surprised that he was staring at me as if I was a freak. Asshat. Couldn't have offered some help?

He continued to stare at me for another few uncomfortable minutes until I had enough of it.

"What?" I said sharply.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"No. I'm as peachy as an orange."

His left eyebrow rose in confusion. "...what?"

"Never mind, just ignore what I said."

"Oh." He continued to stare. And then he slowly raised his hand (when the hell did he grab that bottle? I'm pretty sure he didn't have it with him awhile ago?) and offered it to me.

"Mouth wash?"

I looked at the mouth wash, then at him, and repeated this several times before what he said finally processed through my head. Wow, this guy not such a bastard as I thought. We might get along blondie, we just might. Well, as long as your not an asshat.

"Sure, that would be great." I said gratefully. Even though I'm somewhat a germaphobe, I'm pretty sure those germs will die as well. Hopefully.

A few minutes after, my mouth felt minty fresh. Thank you mouth wash, I will never take you for granted ever again. Note to self: buy some listerine. I have a feeling I'll be on that ship thing again soon enough.

"Thanks for the mouth wash. That really helped. Why do you have that anyway?" I asked.

"Oh, My mom packed it in my case when I found out that it was an air carrier we were going to be getting on. I get bad motion sickness, is it the same for you?"

... From what suitcase? Ask later if you remember. "Probably worse. Vehicles of any kind are going to be the death of me. By the way, what's your name?"

"Juane. Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you." He said, his voice dropping a few decibels.

I stared at him once more, and I laughed.

"Dude, really? Who introduces themselves like that?" No, seriously, who does that?

Jaune's face began to flush, trying to hide himself from his embarrassment. He gave an incredibly hilarious scowl, which if anything, came out as a pout. "Hey! Don't laugh. I was trying to be cool!"

"Epic fail man, epic. Cool people don't act like that. They just don't."

Right after I said that sentence, something familiar began to resound in my head. Jaune Arc. Where have I heard that name before? I know I heard it before, but where? Maybe there's something about him I can use to help me figure it out.

Jaune Arc looked like a modestly handsome guy. He has blond hair and blue eyes and a rather soft looking face. He is wearing a black sweatshirt with armored plates covering his chest connected to some shoulder guards and some type of orange band from his elbows to his hands, covered by leather gauntlets with what looks like metal embedded inside of it. He also has this double-belt across his waist with a freaking sword there (the fuck?) is wearing blue jeans with black combat boots.

Yep, nothing looks familiar. Must be the name. His name does sound a lot like Joan of Arc though. Maybe he's related to her? Doubtful, if anyone descended from a hero, there would definitely been some hoopla about it.

Oh wait, he's talking. Better pay attention.

"... Think your so cool."

Fuck. What did he just say? EVASIVE ACTION GO!

"Wabalaba ashabadabido resiodpedio alallopi lado."

Silence reigned.

"What?"

Success!

"Nothing. So, where are we anyway?"

"... How do you not know where you are?"

... Think man, think!

"... I forgot?"

I'm doomed. Thanks a lot brain. Thanks.

"Yeah, I forget where I am sometimes too. But seriously, you don't know? Alright, I'll be a nice guy and tell you where we are."

... That worked? I mean, of course it worked! Huzzah! Now for some background history! Who doesn't love background history? The only thing that could be better are flashbacks!

"Okay, so where we are right now is a place called Beacon Academy. It's a place where a lot of people our age try to apply. A lot of people try to join, but many of them fail. So the people who come here are kinda like the creme of the crop, the best of the best.

Okay, what kind of name is Beacon? What is it, a sailor school. And on top of that, it's an elite school? This place sucks already.

"Here at Beacon, we students learn how to become a huntsman or a huntress.

... Huntsman?

"To fight against the monsters known as Grimms who are like a blight to out world, Remnant. So Beacon is an elite combat school where those who passed get to be trained by some of the best hunters in the world in order to fight against the Grimms. You got that?"

And I froze.

"Uh, hello? Anyone in there? You listening?"

"Uh... Yeah. Yeah, I got it." I said nervously.

"Oh, good I thought I explained it pretty badly."

Oh no, you told me everything man. Every fucking thing.

I'm not on Earth anymore.

I'm on a planet named Remnant. Badass name by the way.

And I somehow landed in the Rwby-Verse.

... Son of a bitch.