(Narrator)

(Thoughts)

A/N: This is currently an idea, and I'm not sure how well or terrible this may turn out to be, so it's 50/50 on whether I want to continue it or not. I do have some impression of a story behind this; it's just not ready yet. This is the most frustrating and fun fanfic I may ever type, and I hope the product will be entertaining for everyone. Please review your thoughts on it and I hope you enjoy.

And so his ride ends here. So brief it was, unfortunately for the burdened gent, but he will leave it all behind him, content with just breathing and shielding those who are close to him, loves him - the strongest bond fathomable to merry mortal men. Everyone else can be buried away from his subconscious, to never return to his once open thoughts. It will not be vain, however, for he will be remembered as the one who made the end to blunders. He will make the eraser to those unsightly flaws, and it will be over before his departure.

There's a shine of pride in his eyes, the flame in him flickers and refuses to burn out as he watches behind the glass that separates him from the life giver. Both are going strong.

On the other side, she pants and sweats profoundly, but with her past experience, it will be awarding for her, to carry him in her arms. The little one will be there shortly, but ever so slowly. Both of are still going strong.

The fifth.

The fifth one is imminent. It will come to this existence with a greater purpose, greater than the watcher, greater than the hero, greater than the lover, greater than the predecessor, greater than the protector.

The fifth will be the greatest…

And he will be the last.

… He has to be the last.

And so the man pressed against the transparent wall resolutely parts his lips, sealing the honor, trust, responsibility, and fortune with the hope's undying name.

"Jaune Arc… I'm so sorry."


They can see it from afar, the very place - the starting point - that will alter their lives forever: Beacon Academy is in sight, and no one is the least displeased. Its vast scales of stylistic architecture, proven to also withstand the worst of devastations, is gigantic and exceed expectations of just being eye candy for the riding viewers; even if one were to be miles away, they can notice that this school is more like a fortress than a destination of education. Yes, they were all aweing at the its glory.

"Hu-uh!"

So many potential students gathered here today because they've proven themselves as the top applicants. Some were quite excited, some were tensing, waiting to test themselves in combat, but as the newly arriving students look over the land that reveals its every magnificence, there is one that insists on ruining the moment.

"Huurgghhehh!"

It was about to happen anyways, but he couldn't hold it for more than several minutes. And so the countdown starts at the appropriate number of 3…

2…

1…

"BLEEUUURRRGGGHHH!"

The motion of it all - the aircraft that is in a fixed velocity no less - cannot preserve the poor victim's stomach from dispensing its breakfast all over the once reflective floor. Some of it catches onto the once concerned spectators; it'd be no surprise that he will be known for this feat where he wretches it everywhere. His lungs ache, his eyes dilate, his lips quiver… and they have another 5 minutes until landing. One would think he'd be prepared for something that was informed in his scroll a few days ago, the kneeling fool.

Oh God, just kill me, Jaune Arc groans in agony, his arm on the window and other on his knee. The supposed future hero of Remnant can't even handle minor jerks from the carrier plane. Is this what is to be expected from this day forward: a vomit inducing sack of sickness waiting to be trampled over by the superior Huntsmen and Huntresses? What a staggering shame. And shame he should feel.

Blah, blah, blah! I swear on my spilled chunks, if we discuss this again, I'll make you talk about hardcore erotic novels… Remember "Fifty Shades of Gay?" Do you really want both of us to both suffer? I'll read page by page, asshole – try me.

… It's a really beautiful morning today.

Yeah, I thought so. His minor threat is very much acknowledged, but the story must not go on like this. He has to make it all better in the long run, for this will be forever in the records of history! He can't just roll with the punches as if he can shrug it off! And speaking of punches-

Wait, what?

Pow!

At the moment of confusion, a knuckle out of nowhere aimed directly at his exposed gut, the most excruciating way to send off the amateur knight into thumping against the corner of the spacious room. The launch was so unreal that it would be no surprise that if he took that head on, he'd be knocked out cold and lying in his unmarked grave. The impact was so heavy-duty in fact that it left an imprint of her fist on his armor. His dirty, cheap, useless armor.

Son of a bitch! I just bought that today! Today! And how many times do I have to tell you, it's not cheap; I just happened to find it at its best deal. Not like you would know a good steal if you ever see one.

No matter, for whatever he wore, that still must've left an impression on him, and it's certain that he will be upchucking in no time. He feels the ground shaking, aggravating his belly, erupting his innards.

He feels the floor hum against his wellbeing.

H-hate you, hate you so much…

"Vomit Boy," a voice filled with disgust directing towards him, "you couldn't just let it go somewhere else?" A crackling crunch made it clear that she is open for another assault.

Well, isn't she a welcoming company? Oh, can he get the whiff of it? That familiar smell coming from her shoes; it similarly reeks of freshly spewed fluids.

Ah shit, did I do that? Kinda forgot who got in the crossfire when you were talking about something that I couldn't give two cents about. Guess I can't completely blame her then… the freaking bitch.

He rolls on his back and looks up and sees the all yellow clothes covered by the hot blonde martial artist, yet exposes plenty for the adolescent's imagination. Literally, she looks as if she's bursting with heat and ready to scorch him to a crisp from just her leering.

Damn, someone got a lucky spin on the genetics department.

And to think he was in pain just a few seconds earlier, his empty noggin is already in the gutter.

Oh yeah, and that's coming from a fella who talks about my bathroom activities with toilet humor. Screeeew youuu.

"Yang, it's not his fault!" another girl countered, spoiling the fun. Now why is a child here? With a red cloak and black base top and skirt, she seems to favor the gothic style. They both stand out as they look at Jaune, one with obvious killing intent, the other conveying the opposite. She approaches the downed man and positions his back on the wall, her high pitched voice went even higher. "I'm so, so, so, sorry! I should've kept a closer eye on her," She inches closer to his face, whispering near his ear. "You got really lucky! She usually goes lower than that. Hehe, if you can't tell, she can't really control her temper as much as she would like to admit."

Oh no, really? I never would've fucking guessed it! To not make the scene less dramatic, he swallows from letting out the remaining bile, then he gently pushes her off of him as he attempts getting up with his wobbly feet.

"It's cool, I guess, but since she frickin' punched me in the stomach, of all places, I won't be apologizing. And as a bonus, I won't be demanding compensation for my busted up breastplate." Jaune lazily turns his attention to Yang. "Sounds fair, violent gauntlet chick? Or would you like seconds?" He taunts her with a suppressed satisfaction, even if he feels the plane going against him.

Please don't remind me. I just got that out of my head a few seconds ago.

Yang's irises flash red, her fingers ready to tear off his arm, but she sighs, yielding from causing any more of a ruckus for the bewildered onlookers. "Sure, but do it somewhere less crowded next time. The last thing I need are my boots looking like crap."

"I don't know, I heard that brown with a pinch of green is all the rage these days." Surprisingly, instead of a smack down, he earned a smirk from the once livid buxom youth.

"Alright, smartass, enjoy the ride. Ruby, don't stay too close! You might catch what he's having!"

Like my awesomeness?

… Well…

Shut it.

"'Kay! Hey, What's your name, friend?" the petite red hooded girl asks, waiting for Jaune to introduce himself. Well, he can't just leave her hanging, but will he use the same overused material like last time? Will he dare? On someone who he just met? Can he please not?

"Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue." Of course he would.

"My name's Ruby Rose! Please ta meet you," Ruby smiles from his introduction, completely ignoring the extra add-ons for his name.

"Like wise. Although I don't think I can say the same for your sis of yours," Jaune laughs with the red haired girl, only to shut his mouth because of the motion sickness before he could present his typical Arc "charm."

"I hope we get to meet each other again! Next time, try bringing a barf bag!" That's a wonderful suggestion, but because of his well-hidden idiocy, he'll surely forget all about it by the time she leaves. And with an energetic wave, she departs with Yang, and in replacement, a collective total of rose petals whirls in front of him.

They seem like they can be a fun posse. Got any ideas on who they were in detail, buddy?

For some reason, Jaune knows this won't be the last time they'll see each other again (We are attending the same school), for he will remember the both of them. Ruby Rose, a 15-year-old prodigy with the mind of a super weapons expert and innocence, and Yang Xiao Long, a touchy, foxy, and angry brawler who should not be trifled with. They, the daring pair, are close sisters with a wretched past, and together they battle not just the Grimm which pollutes this fragile world, but with themselves as well. They will surely overcome this trial in time with the help of all the people they will figure as allies.

And I'm guessing that I'm in that group. You said they're sisters? I never would've realized that. Are they step sisters or same mom or dad?

Regrettably, Jaune has no time to think about it as his throat was flooding with the last lingering-

"Hu-uh Hu-uh! GLUAH!... P'tu!"

… puke.

How the hell did I not think about bringing a barf bag?


(Beacon Grounds)

Finally, the doors open, and the fresh breeze comes right in. They landed at last, and none were more excited in getting the hell out of there than the recovering young Arc. Still staggering, however, he slowly strains his feet behind the rest who are frantically trying to get as far away from him as possible. Everyone is screaming "Hurry! Hurry!" as he closes the gap between each other. His reputation will be quite something to behold. He can see it now: Vomit Boy, the miracles of regurgitation!

"Maybe if a certain chatterbox didn't talk about it in detail, I wouldn't feel so bad in the first place! I swear, you bring out the worst in me." He has no one to blame but himself. He'd best learn to live in such a condition, if he wishes to thrive without such a handicap. For now, Jaune is out of the contraption and finds a bench near an open street towards the great Academy, where he can recuperate a bit and hopefully find a cafeteria to fill in the empty void.

"At least I can rest easy," Jaune bends his back as he sat firmly on his seat, taking in the brand new atmosphere. So different was this place compared to his home town that he tries to filter through the places he's been to in order to compare anything similar to this display. He's been to cities and traveled at long distances before - not like he had much of a choice thanks to his sisters and parents with their daunting errands - but he's never seen buildings that would tower over more than 10 stories. Beacon Academy – more like a castle if anything. The tired Arc takes it all in and appreciates his chance to be here.

I have to admit. It is pretty cool.

It's more than just "pretty cool"; this will be the stage that Jaune's role will play heavily on the plot! The facilities he will view, the peers he will be respected by, the endless knowledge he will achieve, the friends he will have that will last for years, decades even! Jaune knows better than to underestimate the legendary palace before him.

Calm down, I know I'm going places. Why don't you run that by me another thousand times? Give it a rest, man.

Before he starts speaking to himself again, (Hey, I thought we were over with the me-being-crazy shtick.) Jaune notices the two sisters at the center of the open field. The nervous little one suggests a team up with the bigger sister, but to no avail, Yang surrounds herself with a barrier of blank faces. The expressionless phonies play along with the blonde, leaving Ruby going in circles, begging for her beloved sibling's companionship as she begins to feel the isolation. But, as luck would have it, she tumbles over a stack of cases, causing all of them to clutter around her and receive the antagonism from the very owner of those said cases. Jaune breathes out a piercing whistle.

Who in Remnant ordered all of that vanilla? Aesthetically appeasing to the eye, all superbly dressed in a royal-like attire, poises with a straight back, has a long pure lock of white hair, and accessories to boot, along with a high class swank. Monty Oum, I can taste the affluence off of her from here!... You think if I get close enough, she'll magically vacuum all the lien I have left in my pockets? You think if I rub her head, I'll be granted eternal prosperity?... She's really starting to tempt me.

Witticisms aside, he should recognize the status she flaunts. Coming from a long lineage of profitable individuals, the Schnee family are also on the top ranks of the economic race. Who Jaune is feasting his eyes on is none other than the heiress of the Schnee Dust company, the soon to be organizer of over 80 percent of Dust supplies throughout all of the four Kingdoms.

Her name is Weiss Schnee, and she is unquestionably someone Jaune should not cross with lightly, or anyone at all. A person who takes pride in her family business, she is respected, loved, feared, hated - you name it - she absorbs it all like a sponge and attacks back with equally fierce lyrics. But with that assertiveness, she is a lonesome soul, who wishes that her prestige is not weighted on her. It may not show, but she is seeking someone who she can consider to be equal to her, and not just by class. Although she is scolding Ruby with palpable rage, Weiss does bring out some compassion in her, and it's shown from her softly scarred face. With such a common trait, the two bickering misses are more identical than meets the eye.

Way to make it thought-provoking, pal, Jaune shakes his head. Ruby, the deserted little red hooded girl, encounters Weiss, another lonesome but rich to the bones girl. Next thing I know; they'll end up as the best of friends, and no one can tear them apart with their unbreakable bonding, or something along those lines. I have a feeling that this is what you're going for, aren't you?

How senseless and ignorant can one be?! It's not like a simple hello and goodbye kind of scenario! Or something one can purchase from a store! Friendship doesn't appear out of thin air or in a can! It will demand a journey; a voyage in knowing about each other; a period when they will finally reach acceptance and-!

And then they bone each other! Haha!

… D-did I get that one right?... You there, man? Hey, is that really what's going to happen?

It is evident that he hasn't rested enough, and he must empty out his lesbo sex infested theories before he can trudge forward. It is warned that he doesn't get up anytime soon, for Jaune's perverseness will rush through his other "head", opening an opportunity to give him another nickname. He might even get the same one his father once obtained back in his heydays.

Well sorry for being seventeen years old. You can't expect me to not comment. Besides, it's not like I'll get any action with you around. May as well joke and take it to my grave.

Jaune Arc and his mighty sword! Look out world and prepare for his ultimate thrusts! His unstoppable penetration! Be wary alphas, his masculinity is out of control!

Psh, yeah, yeah, whatever.

Anyhow, the two dainty teenagers squabble for a while, until the hypothetical smart one of the two rattles one of her vials, letting loose enough powder for Ruby to sneeze and explode them both in an elemental cloud, covering them in soot. A classic way to infuriate the princess.

Ha! That was all her fault. Too bad she's way too haughty to see that though.

Indeed, Weiss is not just the loneliest, but the proudest of them all, and she is not above giving anyone the cold shoulder. Before this could reach the climax (Jaune snickering like the moron he is), one barges in between the two.

Oh, you gotta be pulling my leg! It's like I've spotted every walking set of colors for a rainbow; it's as if they're protagonists already. What's next? Neon?

Does Jaune always act like he's the only special one? The answer is oh most definitely.

You know what?... Just get it over with.

As hidden and mysterious as the color she shields herself with, this sly individual is truly an enigma, an outsider. To the majority, the growing population, she is a nobody, but to the people of supremacy and survivors of hardship, she wears a Grimm's mask that carries a bipolar influence: The White Fang. No one has ever gotten close to determining who she is, not even those who she deems as friends or family. No, she will be the silent runaway, living in the shadows, never under the light, and always vigilant of danger. If Jaune should feel distress, it should be when he makes her his enemy with not just the skills of an assassin, but with a passion and motivation to even execute it.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. The White Fang? Seriously? As in the hardcore organization White Fang that killed hundreds or thousands of humans? Dude, what the hell?! It's like this place is packed with radical people, and I'm the only sane one here!

Says the man who talks to himself on a daily basis.

I'm not crazy, dammit!

Jaune might not believe it, but he can surely see it. A bit subtle, but his eyes can't lie to him. As he observes the Amber eyed dispatcher dis the arrogant Schnee with little to no effort, the motionless knight notices the bow on top of her head visibly twitch in excitement.

Ah, that's a given. A Faunus from the White Fang is here, and she couldn't find the best way to hide it. Couldn't she get a hat or something less risky? Still, I guess this is one hell of a discovery now that I think about it.

A name like no other, Blake Belladonna: Faunus, revolutionary, savior, murderer. It doesn't matter to the disturbed hybrid, so long as she attains her life time goal: equality and justice for all. As a final resolution for her cause, she severed herself from the association, wishing no more harm to even her enemies, but she is no pacifist. With her sleek weapons strap to her side, that is for certain.

So she's now a traitor. It's been I while since I've heard of such a noble cause. But it's like they all say: "only the good dies young."

Still clinging with such disheartening thoughts, even Jaune should recognize that it doesn't have to be that way. Once he gets to know everyone better, he will understand how to appreciate such intellectuals.

Yeah, well, you haven't proved it yet.

Only time will tell.

And so now she attends this academy, and she still maintains her principles. Jaune chuckles as Weiss swipes away the item from Blake's grasp and treads off, still overconfident from the time she came into his view. And so too did the Faunus leave in the other direction, separating the fatigued mess that is Ruby Rose to fall and only let the ground comfort her.

She's all alone. So very alone in this world.

Because no one wants her.

Alone.

Are-are you trying to guilt trip me for not coming to her aid? Are you frickin' serious? No, I refuse to submit.

As he stares at the riding hood, he can see her sigh and frown, probably lamenting about herself and her incompetence, hating herself for being so socially awkward and nerdy. Maybe she's visualizing about finally having a friend, only for her to be left behind because they think she's that pathetic. The self-loathing is too real.

Oh, she seems so close to tears. Jaune can tell that Ruby is about to wail in isolation.

In. Isolation.

In. The. Public.

… Waah! Waah! He can imagine the child crying at him for ignoring the obvious signals! Waah!

Alright, fine! You win! Monty, scratch a chalk board with a rusty nail, why don't you? Feeling a little guilty for being the lone spectator, Jaune grumbles to himself as he approaches the lounging loner, his shadow offering her shade when he gets there.

"V-vomit Boy?" Ruby hiccups as her eyes focused on his face that illustrates his instant regret for coming over.

"Did Yang drilled that into you? Jeez, talk about a grudge," He sweats as he realized that it will stick with him until the day he ditches this place and change his identity. He extends his arm with his hand open for interaction, and Ruby accepts it willingly. "First name's Jaune, last name's Arc. I don't know about you, but that's pretty simple to recall."

"Yeah, sorry Jaune," she cheerfully apologizes as she gets up from her lazy position. "Uh, want to walk around for a bit?"

"I don't see why not."

"Wait, do you know how to navigate around here?"

Jaune shakes his head, but he walks ahead of her in spite of his ignorance. "Nope, but I think we'll get somewhere if we stroll around long enough. You coming?" Like a loyal puppy, Ruby happily nods and went to his right side, immediately opening up a very relatable theme fit for warriors.

"I don't want to pry, but what's your weapon of choice? There's just so many types that looks so cool and unique that I just have to see what everyone's using," Ruby beams brightly. As expected the curious sort as it's common for someone whose life has been about slaying the dark forces roaming these lands.

Jaune chuckles as she somehow materializes into a more childlike version of herself and marvels at the sword by his hip. "Since you asked first, why not show me yours?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she exclaims as she whips out was appears to be a small compact armament before it transforms before him. It was fast – a needed mechanic if she ever falls in a dangerous situation – and not just being a flashy performance, the metal extends, finally revealing its real form: a deadly scythe that is both taller and wider than the user. Now into an amazing automatic scythe, she then buries the tip of the blade into the sanctity's concrete like a knife to a block of butter. "I give you my awesome scythe and high caliber sniper rifle, Crescent Rose!"

So it's like a scyfle. Aw, she gave her scyfle her last name. If she weren't so adorable, I'd say Rubes has a family complex.

Jaune claps as he appreciates the details she putted into her loved object. "Wow, that thing must require quite a lot of maintenance, and I bet you're packing some serious equipment for the finer parts. Good thing you adore it so much, otherwise I can't imagine how someone can use it for the rest of their lives. And you made that?"

"Yeah! I absolutely love my baby, and everything is done by hand. Why'd you ask?"

A little shy by comparison, Jaune scratches his cheek. "Mine's kind of a relic, and with something as wickedly awesome as yours, I'd say you're gonna be disappointed in mine," Jaune responds as he unsheathes his doubled edged sword by grasping the blue handle. For generations, it never lost its shine, its glory. As the he holds the end gently, the knight swiftly swings it in multiple directions – it always feels new for some reason. Still fresh with a purpose.

Forged by the greatest of sword smiths, using the strongest of metal alloys and countlessly folded to perfection, only small nicks rests on both of the weapon and shield that came from its many abuse from the current handler. It once stood proud above all, and brings a reckoning to all below its weight. The Crocea Mors, a legend to behold. "Yep, sword and a sheathe that bends into a shield – no dust or any other enhancements from it. And as I stated, it's a relic from my great-great-grandfather. Nothing special from it whatsoever," Jaune restrains himself from rattling on.

Her excitement dies down a little, probably a bit regretful from asking. "Oh, well I like the classics too. There's not too many who would use a traditional method."

He laughs hard, about to mention the one thing he should not mention to her. "The funny thing is that I could use something else other than this hand-me-down. I could have brought something like a great sword cannon, a repeating crossbow that shoots explosives, a twin cleaver chained nunchaku, a berserk battle armor, a shotgun chainsaw, an energy sword, a cross whip, etcetera and etcetera. There was also this crazy giant launcher that shoots green spheres of death. It was called a bfg9000 or something like that."

At this point he should have zipped his mouth from spilling everything that the Arcs have stored in their home for the last hundred years because the companion listening to his list was flabbergasted, insulted by his dismissive behavior of the overwhelming weapons he could have utilized instead of his plain combo. "Why don't you use those?! They are way more interesting – I mean useful than the one you're holding!"

Yes, why didn't he use those, but instead decided to practice his potential on a family heirloom? Does he wish to downplay the chronicles behind it every time an introduction is in order?

We are not running through that story again.

"For one thing, they're a bitch to keep clean. Second, it's flashy as hell; it's like 'look at my toy! I'm more important than you!' Third, they always make me look like I'm compensating for you-know-what. And honestly, I think this will suffice. Any more of an upgrade for me may as well be overkill." Like yours for example.

"Are you saying my girl Crescent Rose is overkill?" she gasps as she clings onto her baby.

"What? No! It perfectly suits you. You and Crescent are very compatible." You gave it your last name for God's sake… and a gender. "I don't want to be a prick, but I'm perfectly capable of taking down monsters without modifications. I'm just that confident."

Ruby's eyes darken as she furrows her eyebrows. "Don't let that confidence of yours bite you in the butt if you're ever in trouble," she warns him carefully, very skeptical to his unnatural attitude to her concerns.

Jaune slaps her in the back, guffawing her warning and catching her off guard. "Ha, I'm always in trouble. I simply learn to live with my gifts."

She in turn laughs with him, enjoying that she can have a comfortable conversation without receiving any lashes for her geeky obsessions. This will be the start for a new friendship, his first step into being the best he ever will be.

Maybe, maybe not. All I know is that she's cool for a weapons geek.

"Oh look, we arrived," Ruby points with her finger at the huge dome building in front of them. And as they walk forward, they get closer to the streams of faceless people who gather to a towering entrance. The amphitheater of Beacon Academy.

"And just in time too! Come one, let's go!"

Jaune shakes his head as he slows down compare to Ruby accelerating pacing. "You go on ahead; I'm going to stand here a bit. And I'm sure you have a sister that needs a lecture or two," Jaune replies, igniting Ruby inner demon.

"I almost forgot that she ditched me," Ruby pouts, "I'll give her what for! I'll see you inside! Don't be a stranger Jaune!" she waves goodbye to him a second time today before disappearing in the rushing freshmen.

Given some peace and quiet, Jaune stayed behind, sweating from either agitation or excitement.

Neither, it's just hot outside. I just can't believe that I'm here. I have to thank you for helping me fake that transcript though. So thanks, I guess.

Jaune is no average idiot, and there should be no doubt that he would be plenty capable of forging something like a transcript, even if he didn't really have to do that. After all, he has already accomplished many feats before coming to this land, and that's speaking with high volumes here.

Yeah, but it's better that way than putting me in a be-cautious list from the higher-ups. If I can do something about this with a little pizzazz, I'll be happy with the outcome. This can finally end, and all of us can move on, you included.

Does he really want to be gone and unnoticeable? A person who will become a hero to everyone, but to never be recognize in reality? And how will he even do that when all of the facilities have more surveillance cameras than the ill-informed knight can count?

They can check me out all they want. Hero first, but soldier last. Remember?

Is that how the blonde fighter will approach this?

Yep. I'll make some fun memories, then I'll be fine with whatever comes to chew my ass off. Hopefully figuratively than literally.

To accept or fight the tides of fate he is handed to on a silver platter will lead to a nasty conflict either way.

And with it, I'll be choosing how this will be concluded.

Finally getting that out of his chest, it's almost close to the Headmaster's "long-winded" speech. He is to best go in and hear the person's announcement, or be met with a resignation letter back home.

I'll show up soon enough. One at a time, and still as slow as a snail, he walks into the impressively bright amphitheater with a calm face, ready to join his fellow classmates and meet the very man who nursed Beacon into fruition: the Headmaster, Professor Ozpin.

Well that's just perfect. With a name like that, I can already tell that I'll hate the guy.