A Common Criminal or Something


Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY. It belongs to RoosterTeeth, and the memory of the master of computer animation. May your brainchild keep moving forward, Monty.


"When a man is denied the right to live the life he believes in, he has no choice but to become an outlaw."

-Nelson Mandela


Obviously his second meeting with Red would be in the middle of a burglary.

It had been going so well, too- Roman had made the sort of threats that didn't actually need to be carried out, the dust was being loaded, and soon the shopkeeper would be safe and sound and filing a police report (and insurance claim) as another bloodless theft made the news.

When Jaune first heard the music, he had hoped it would be some radio he could just turn off. When he saw the outline of a figure, his mind scrambled on how he could get whoever it was out of sight and away from his fellow thugs. But when he recognized the figure, he hoped that he wouldn't be the one harmed- that the Blonde Bombshell sister wasn't nearby, that she wouldn't have cause to return to the Club.

That would be bad. It would mean Red had been hurt.

She didn't hear a goon turn the corner of the isle behind her- he had no time to hide her. Fighting was out. Talking was in. Jaune walked forward and tapped Red on the shoulder, getting her attention. Maybe, if he was lucky, she wouldn't recognize him and not blab him to the cops by the time this was over…

"Oh, hey, it's you!"

Or maybe she would recognize him.

"Yeah. Me," Jaune said, awkward at the familiarity. "What are you doing here so late, Red? The Blonde Bombshell around to cause trouble?"

The goon's eyes went wide at the name of the Club destroyer. Red looked a little down and kicked her feet bashfully.

"She's not here," Red said. "My sister got accepted into Beacon so she's out celebrating. Leaving me, well, alone," she said, and he empathized. "I just thought I'd check out the latest weapon magazines, and here I am," she said with a nervous laugh.

The goon's eyes widened with hope. Half a dozen grown men against one little girl? Jaune could see the hope as the man considered the odds.

Jaune tried to forestall it. "So your sister is a Huntress in training?" he asked, hoping that the implied power would get through to the mook. Book of Oum, Commandment of Common Sense Three: Thou shall not make enemies of the most powerful defenders of mankind by beating up their little siblings…

"Yang's going to be a hero," Red said proudly, before looking more excited. "Ooh, but I am too! I'm a student at Signal, and I'm training to go to be a Huntress too! It's always been a dream of mine and-" she began to ramble.

The goon's optimism went into a pensive doubt. Unfortunately Roman Torchwick took the opportunity to turn the corner and look towards them. His skeptical gaze and twitch of the cigar made an obvious intent.

'Why haven't you mugged her yet?' he might have asked.

"Signal Academy, that's an elite combat prep-school for future Hunters, right?" Jaune asked, hoping it would explain the situation to Roman. "You any good?" he asked, not sure if he should hope yes or no. If no, a dozen on one might seem like a good idea. If yes, a dozen on one wouldn't even be close to enough.

"Oh yeah!" Red exclaimed. "My Uncle is a teacher and says I'm really good! I've even already made my own weapon! Wanna see?" Without waiting for an answer, she twirled a rapidly unfolding machine with dramatic flair. In a matter of moments, Jaune was looking at the small girl holding a scythe nearly as big as she was.

Behind her, still unnoticed, Roman and the goon looked down the barrel of a sniper rifle with a caliber as wide as their eyes. The goon fled, all thoughts of ganging up on the girl forgotten. Roman's cigar dropped from his mouth in surprise. He rallied quickly though, and mouthed an order before turning and leaving as quietly as he could.

'Stall.'

"That's… big," Jaune admitted. A fine understatement for a fine and sunny night. "You really made that yourself?" he asked.

"Yup!" Red said, clearly happy with the topic. "It's not about size, though, but how you use it. Like-" what followed was a stream of techno-babble and modifications and capabilities that Jaune caught one word in six. Maybe. And understood maybe half of those. Who put a gun in a scythe? Wouldn't the barrel bend as you hit people with it?

"That's… impressive," he admitted, as sincere as he was taken aback. "You really like weapons, don't you?" he asked, still stalling for time.

Red fangirled. "Weapons are amazing!" she claimed. "They're like an extension of your soul! Someone's weapon says a lot about them. I just had to have the best weapon possible to be the best Hero I could be!" She began to geek out even more, and Jaune would be getting a crash course in weaponology if he weren't so lost.

One thing was for sure. If weapons reflected the soul, then she wasn't a simple soul at all, no matter how easily distracted she was.


Author Notes:

Congratulations, Jaune: you rolled a natural 20 on your charisma check. You have passed a speech check. With charisma that high (ha, yeah right), who needs combat skills?

This encounter was almost two-thousand words until I broke it in half. I'm honestly curious how long it stays below a thousand words a chapter.

Next time- Ruby and Jaune talk weapons, and what you should do if you've sold your soul. Kinda.