Yes, a blatant Jaune x Priscilla story, but, who knows? Is Priscilla alive? Has the Painting been destroyed? We'll just have to find out.
As for sir Arc's build, I was thinking...what do you guys want? What's the absolutely perfect Chosen Undead build, the warrior who claims the souls of gods and demons? Will Jaune become a master smith, taking the Embers for himself? Will he be able to manipulate his soul into long ancient weapons and crystalline sorceries?
Will he succumb to the seduction of Dark power, and master the Dark sorceries, miracles and pyromancies? Will he weave firestorms?
Will he be the next dragonslayer, spear, sword and shield, greatbow and arrow?
I'm leaving that, up to you all.
"Why me…?" For one Jaune Arc, his day was not going how he expected it to go. First, there was the unexpected -but also what he should have expected- flight on the metal demon known as a plane, of which his stomach was all so readily willing to wage war in his body.
And second, by upchucking his meager breakfast of cereal and a granola bar -all over what has to be the hottest girl he has ever seen shoes- he was christened with his new title: Vomit Boy.
Stumbling out after the group of teenagers, all of whom were too happy to hurry away from the motion sick boy, he collapsed to the ground in a manner that was definitely not overdramatic. Him kissing the ground and praising it like the second coming of Oum was definitely normal, yes sir.
Getting to his feet, his breath back in his lungs and his stomach no longer twisting into a pretzel, two cerulean orbs swept across the incredibly grand front of Beacon Academy, the castle like structure catering to two long buildings of modern make and model, yet they fit the mostly medieval look perfectly.
Taking two steps forward, Jaune and all the scraps of dignity he had, found themselves once more on the ground, although this was due to the incredibly loud explosion -is that lightning?- that came from in front of him, pebbles and dust flying into his person.
Regaining his bearings, his brown gloved hand knocking a few pebbles out of his golden hair, he could only watch as that small black and red themed girl looked more and more like a kicked puppy as the white themed girl was all too happy to verbally tear her a new one.
Like an idiot, Jaune could only watch the scene in front of him as a third party entered, a rather goth themed girl with a cute little bow on her head, and holding a bottle.
Black, as he dubbed her, seemed to say something rather unpleasant, as White turned an interesting shade of red with fury, huffing and stomping away with her entourage of servants cleaning up and carrying the rest of her luggage behind her.
"Why is everyone color themed..?" He shook his head, walking towards Red as Black seemed to disappear, despite his eyes on the scene the whole time.
Getting closer, he could just hear Red mutter "Welcome to Beacon" as she slumped to the crater she and White made -did she just whine?-, her arm coming to rest over her eyes, but not quick enough to cover the smallest little dots of tears at the corner of her eyes.
As he approached, she removed her arm from her eyes, the sounds of his feet not walking away making her panic into thinking it was a faculty member ready to berate and get her in trouble, but as her fear struck eyes of purest silver gazed forwards, she instead found an -admittedly handsome- teenager with blonde hair and simple plate armor.
"Hey there, you, uh, need some help?" Jaune was nervous, as socially awkward as he is, but he had already spoken, no use in walking away like a jerk.
Red beamed at the help, both because he wasn't faculty about to scold her, and because with the sun shining on his hair and armor, he began to look like the knights of her story books, not that Jaune was aware of that.
Accepting the hand graciously, Jaune almost stumbled at the surprising amount of strength in her thin arms, managing to find his footing before she realized his stumble.
"Ah, thanks!...um, uh, Vomit Boy, right?" And like that, whatever feeling of kicked puppy in her form was forgotten as Jaune slouched in exasperated embarrassment, Red also wanting to smack herself for her blunder.
"It's much more common than you think." As he withdrew his hand and waited for her to brush off her skirt, an idea struck him with a smirk gracing his handsome mug, "Crater Face."
Red squeaked and became as red as her cape and nickname, spouting gibberish he could just make out, things like "It wasn't my fault!" and other denials.
"Relax," he chuckled, "I'm not blaming you. Besides, aren't you supposed to introduce yourself before name throwing?" Red stammered, her toe prodding the stone floor as she blushed to her roots, muttering an apology before standing up, her eyes firm and nervous, "My name is Ruby Rose, Huntress to be!"
Jaune chuckled, "I'm Jaune Arc, short, sweet and the ladies love it!" Now cue Jaune's internal panic at his cheesy pick up line his father hammered into his skull.
Ruby giggled, her silver orbs teasing, "Do they?" Jaune groaned, his cheeks flaming red as his hand went behind his head to scratch at his scalp, his nervous tic. "Well, I mean, they will? Uh, let's forget I said that."
Receiving a nod from the smaller girl, Jaune began to follow the path the other students took, Ruby releasing another squeak as she realized he was leaving, she having been occupied awkwardly removing more dust, with a lowercase "d", from her skirt.
Jaune expected the sound of her boots on the floor, not a whoosh as she disappeared and reappeared in front of him, rose petals flinging off her front from the sudden stop. Wait, rose petals?
"Hello again!" Ruby awkwardly but cheerfully said, giving an internal giggle as she noticed Jaune's face scrunch up into adorable confusion.
Jaune thought of questioning what that was, but seeing how nonchalant she was about it, even in her awkward way, he figured it'd be odd to question a seemingly normal thing. Maybe this was a product of Dust weaving or whatever? The village militia back in his village had something like this thanks to Dust in their armor, but the specifics to it all were lost on him.
Mom didn't trust him around Dust.
"So…" Jaune refocused on the world around him as Ruby spoke, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours!" Jaune turned beet red, wondering if he just heard that from the little puppy girl next to him.
"Uh, what?" He squeaked. "Duh! Your weapon!" Oh thank everything holy. Without warning, Ruby whipped out a red box from under her cape, making Jaune jump back and forced to bite back a yelp as it began to click and expand -is that a scythe!?
About the size of him with a ridiculously oversized blade that dug into the undamaged concrete with just by resting the tip on it! Jaune suddenly worried for his manhood.
"Is that...a scythe?" Ruby nodded enthusiastically, spewing out facts and details on the complexity of sniper scythes and the ammo types, metal and plastic components, and prices, that completely flew over Jaune's poor head.
"Uhuh...that's pretty cool, actually. Where'd you get it?" Ruby looked confused for a moment, but her voice still held the confidence in her explanation of her scyther rifle.
"I didn't buy it, if that's what you mean, I made it. Everyone at Signal built their own weapons, didn't you build yours?" Ruby nodded at the sword on Jaune's belt, her weapon pointing at it.
Jaune shook his head sheepishly. "No, it's a family heirloom, more of a relic than anything." Drawing it smoothly, Jaune handed the blade to Ruby's waiting hands, watching her critical eyes with wariness and defensiveness over his weapon.
"What does it do?" Jaune blinked and took the white and gold hilted straight sword, angling the blade to reflect the sun as his face reflected off it. "Well, it swings, stabs and cuts." taking his white metal sheath from his belt, Jaune clicked the handle, watching it expand into a familiar white kite shield.
"The sheath can expand, become a shield...yeah…" Ruby smiled at him, but it faltered when he didn't offer any hidden information, no super secret technique her puppy eyes could drag out of him.
"Wouldn't it still weigh the same?" Jaune nodded, turning the shield back into a sheath and sheathing his sword, placing it on his belt once more.
"Yep, but old Crocea is sturdy and gets the job done. Couldn't ask for better." Because I don't deserve any better.
"Crocea?" Jaune hummed in agreement. "Her name, Crocea Mors." Ruby nodded, her eyes lighting up as she hefted her scyther rifle over shoulder in a pose. "I almost forgot! This is Crescent Rose, my baby!"
Jaune clapped, making Ruby giggle, at least until she seemed realize something.
"Hey Jaune, where are we?"
Alright alright, hey there lovely readers and critical graders! How are you? How's/how was your Thanksgiving? How's break? How's your love lives? Etc etc.
Let's think about what we know about Jaune...he isn't stupid, not in the normal sense. Sure, studies would no doubt be difficult, and he probably isn't the most studious teen, but no matter the dream, he had zero training, zero combat experience, no Aura, and only a sword and shield, no ranged weapons he would undoubtedly need.
He obviously isn't insane, so he wouldn't normally go to Beacon to be a Hunter and expect to survive.
But.
What if he was dragged there by a...higher power? Say...the Flame? The gods? His soul? The Chosen Undead? He wouldn't be insane or stupid, but merely a poor pawn of fate.
Anyways! I've done been thinking...why not give Priscilla a wee bit of competition? Say….the entirety of the female cast?
Nah, I'm joking. Kind of.
I'd love to see just what kind of female characters you all would love to see vying for Jaune's affections, even if it's in a tsundere or just camaraderie style. Will it be RWBY-verse only or shall some other lovely Dark Souls NPC's/OC's be involved into the Chosen's love life?
Who knows.
I want tacos.
Could anyone guess just what Jaune's weapon is modeled after? A certain little beauty of a straight sword? Yes, I'm spoiling and making a bad Author's Note, but I don't care!
Please review and pm me, I love receiving the thoughts of those that read my work, even if they find my work so badly written that it's a crime to even acknowledge it's existence!