It's been a while, hasn't it? A Silver Dolphin here. Through the invigorating power of several Doppio Expressos and a three-day weekend, I've finally had the time to pen down the tenth chapter of this fanfiction. Huzzah.
I'm not a big fan of writing fight scenes. Mostly because I feel my writing standard isn't good enough to capture the moment. The bar fight scene in the Kingsman movie was epic beyond proportion. As an amateur writer, I hope my ramblings this chapter will do it justice…
On a side note, I've been asked to clarify why Jaune has taken certain actions. If interested, I offer an explanation at the end of the chapter (after the Omake).
Uncommon terms used in this chapter:
Truism:A statement that's obviously true and goes without saying. A more serious synonym of the word; Cliché.
Verbatim: In the exact words. In the context of saying/quoting 'verbatim', it means repeating word for word.
Acquiescence: To passively agree or comply without protest.
Chapter 10: Of Confrontation and Justification
'Trust, but verify.'
Weiss Schnee wasn't quite sure where she'd heard the proverb, but in the world that was high society, she'd quickly come to regard it as a truism.
It had all started with a trivial white lie.
For her twelfth birthday, her cake butler had promised her a slice of strawberry cake. The biggest slice, filled with only the freshest hand-picked Atlesian strawberries, encrusted within layers of soft, velvety cake. A slice worthy of a Schnee.
She'd been so excited that instead of awaiting the arrival of afternoon tea, she'd personally went to the 'food room' to inspect (devour) her promised cake.
She'd never felt so betrayed.
The strawberries had come out of a can. While the butler had been quick to apologize and make good on his word, it'd shown her just how true the proverb was. She promptly took the saying to heart.
It was the best choice Weiss could've made. Scepticism served as the shield that safeguarded her from deception of all kinds.
Her tutors were masters of business and politics. Each one interested in advancing their own agenda. They thought her too young to see through their deceit. She proved them wrong. Father approved.
Her servants and stewards hid their own thoughts, merely parroting her words verbatim, appealing to her ego in attempts to curry favour. Finding that falsehood was so prevalent in her household made it near impossible to find someone to depend on, or to truly call friend.
But even if there were not many whom she could depend on, all that mattered was that there was one she could trust in…
The Heiress sighed, collapsing onto her mattress. Despite having Ruby's bed dangling precariously above her, suspended by the flimsiest of ropes, she just couldn't bring herself to care about it. The conflict resolution session (not a scolding as Ruby claimed) with her newly accepted leader had gone swimmingly well.
Right up until Ruby pulled a fast one on her. Apologize to that taunting, arrogant, partner-stealing dunce?! Why exactly should I have to apologize?! I've done nothing but state the truth!
Weiss crushed the pillow within her grasp.
"Drat…"
She couldn't in good conscience deny Ruby's request. Especially not right after promising to be 'the best teammate she'd ever have'. Arc… The name seems familiar somehow.
Her musings were interrupted by the memorable, melodic sound of a piano sonata. By habit, her right hand fished her scroll out from the back pocket of her dress. A genuine smile extended across her face as she pressed the 'accept' button.
"Hello, Weiss." The voice of Winter Schnee echoed from her scroll. "Have you adjusted well to Beacon?"
"It's so great to hear from you, Winter!" Her mask came off. "Absolutely. My teammates are remarkable fighters and classes have proven easily manageable. I've even managed to make a friend…though I might've made an enemy as well."
"That's excellent news. And as for your 'enemy', you may find solace in the fact that the SDC did not reach the top without burying a few foes."
"Burying a few foes?" Oum, please tell me I misheard that.
"Stubbing a few toes, Weiss." Winter corrected. "You should know that a keen ear will save you from many troubles. It is of utter importance that a Huntress keeps track of her surroundings at all times. You never know if someone may be listening in."
"Of course." Weiss replied, the palm upon her face thankfully hidden by the scroll's inability to capture video footage. Hindsight, why do you mock me so?
"Winter, does the name 'Arc', mean anything to you? It seems vaguely familiar."
"Beacon. It's unsurprising that you would find an Arc present." The Lieutenant remarked. "Oh. I see. You've…done well, Weiss. An Arc is an excellent choice for a friend."
The Heiress was suddenly much less eager to hear about her newest 'friend'.
"I cannot blame you for failing to remember them. Save for textbooks detailing Great War history, the Arc name is hardly recognised anymore. They were one of the Vytal signatories. Much like ourselves or the Winchesters, they can trace their lineage to times from before The Great War, though they are neither as wealthy nor as politically active."
Weiss let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Yet, they are the most well-connected. Their…inclination for heroism has made them some enemies, but in return, earned them much influence in Huntsmen Circles and the favour of many high offices. How they've always managed to always be in the right place at the right time is rather perplexing…"
Gulp.
"Surely a Schnee's sphere of influence is more...formidable?" Surely father has more 'friends'.
"We," Weiss could hear Winter's tone stiffen. "Do not have the kind of friends which would aid us if the situation were dire."
Her slight nervousness became full-blown anxiety.
"Weiss. This is why I supported your decision to school at Beacon. You have a chance to make favourable connections with many of Remnant's future Class-A Huntsmen or individuals of influence in a safe environment."
The words of her sister lent her strength. Winter, you're the best…
"The fact that you have an Arc in good company bodes well for the future. They'd go far for a friend." Winter praised. "In his words, they'd 'bring down the hammer of justice' upon anyone daring to hurt a comrade. Truly, toes even I would hesitate to trend on."
Drat. Drat!
"That's, good." Weiss lied.
"You don't sound very pleased. Are you alright, Weiss?" The concerned sister questioned.
"Well, I wouldn't exactly call myself Arc's friend…" Weiss admitted.
"Explain. Now." Winter demanded.
"I might've been less than cordial with the Arc…"
"Did you insult her? Reiterate your exact words." The Lieutenant ordered.
Her?
"I may have mentioned he was an…arrogant," Weiss whimpered. "Ignorant twat. Pretentious—"
"Go stand in the corner!"
"But!"
"Right now!"
Weiss didn't move.
"I'm not hearing footsteps."
One corner of Team RWBY's dorm room was now occupied.
"Of all the people in Remnant to insult! If you were under my command, I'd make sure you—"
The sound of a deep breath echoed out of the scroll, discontentment clear. The Heiress shivered.
"Do not make the same mistake again." She warned. "Fortuitously, I am a…friend of sorts to the scion of the Arc family. I will request that he help placate whatever qualms you have with her."
Weiss quietly added a count to the ever lengthening list of favours owed to her sister. She resolved to repay her debts someday.
Wait.
"Her?"
"The only male Arc around your age serves alongside myself as a Lieutenant of the Atlesian Military." Winter replied, slightly puzzled. "Surely you have not mistaken her gender?"
"But, his name is Jaune Arc."
A gasp sounded from the scroll.
"…Curses." Drat. "Congratulations, Weiss. You've managed to insult an Atlesian Lieutenant and alienate the Arc scion all in one go."
Disbelief was the only thought running through her head. She hastened to find a rebuttal.
"He's a Lieutenant?! Then why is he studying here at Beacon?!"
"Only Huntsmen are eligible to hold officer ranks." Winter recalled. "I assumed he'd be sent to Atlas Academy for training though. But never mind that."
"It is imperative that you maintain at the very least, a neutral relationship with Jaun- Lieutenant Arc. I will contact him later. He tends to be very understanding. As a friend, I'll ask him to overlook your...jibe remarks."
"...Thank you, Winter. You're—"
The sound of a door slamming open boomed from the scroll.
"Second Lieutenant!"
"Yes, Colonel!"
"Tell Jaune to melt the butter and break out the bibs! He'll be serving steak today served on a silver platter by lunchtime. We're celebrating my promotion!"
The Heiress wasn't sure why a crackling sound was heard, but she vaguely remembered her sister's tendency to crush whatever she was holding when angered.
"I'm needed elsewhere, Weiss. I'll call again another time." The suddenly clipped voice was followed by a 'disconnected' tone.
Weiss heaved a sigh and slumped her shoulders. She glanced towards her bed. Maybe some rest would clear my head.
The sound of a door slamming open boomed from the hallway.
"Weiss!" A cheery, almost childish tone called out.
"It's lunchtime! Let's— What are you doing standing in the corner?"
"What a freak!" The shortest member of CRDL laughed. Unarmed. No callouses. Minimal hand-to-hand combat skill—Oh Monty is that a Mohawk?! Why would you even—
"Please stop…" The rabbit-eared Faunus spoke despondently.
Jaune tightened his grip on the Aegis. Damn it, Jaune. Focus!
"Go back to your burrow!" The blue-haired member taunted.
Her ears drooped. Her eyes hollowed. The resigned expression, the sheer look of acceptance in her eyes made him seethe. You dare call yourselves Huntsmen? Defenders of Humanity?
I'm going to put the fear of Jaune into them!
…Oh, Monty that was cringe worthy.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," He recovered quickly.
His voice was gentle, yet commanding. It was the kind of tone which screamed that refusal would end badly.
An Iron Fist in a Velvet Glove, Jaune. Diplomacy first. Damn it, Ozpin…
Four heads turned to sneer at the killjoy who couldn't mind his own business. A pair of ears uplifted in recognition of the voice.
"But I'm afraid Velvet here had already agreed to join my team for lunch."
Time froze in place for the Rabbit Faunus. A Human, not a Faunus, had just offered to help her. Seeing was believing, yet her mind refused to accept what her eyes had just witnessed.
"Isn't that right, Velvet?" His tone was kind and warm.
"Ah. Y-Yes." She swiftly agreed.
"Then," The commanding voice returned. "If you gents would kindly make way for her?"
"Listen, pal. Why don't you mind your own—" Russel rebutted.
"No, no." Cardin interjected, smiling as if he'd done no wrong. "We were just having a friendly chat. She's all yours."
Jaune lifted an eyebrow at his sudden acquiescence. Huh?
"But Cardin! We—" The nearly bald member of Team CRDL tried.
"Let's go get our lunch, Russel. Come on, team." He signalled, waving his dominant hand up and down with gusto.
'We'll get him when his back is turned.'
"Oh." The Lackey grinned knowingly. "Well, I could use a big lunch!"
With precision worthy of Atlesian soldiers, Team CRDL stepped to the sides of the table, giving Velvet a wide berth. Cardin even held his hand out, presenting a path. Jaune stood still, his face staunch as Velvet quickly collected her food tray and left her seat.
The Rabbit Faunus stopped in front of Jaune.
"Err, where are we sitting?" she asked meekly.
"Blake. You seeing what I'm seeing?" Yang ventured.
The Brawler was struggling to believe that things could be resolved without fighting. 'Diplomacy' was just one of those theoretical things old men discussed, right? Huntsmen always ended up fighting in the end anyway, so why bother? The fact that Jaune and his new friend was making their way to the table instead of throwing around punches regrettably proved her wrong.
"I never thought I'd see the day…" Blake uttered, awed. This is what you're fighting for, Blake. Never lose sight of it.
"I know right!" Yang agreed. She and her partner were so in sync. "Violence is supposed to be the answer!"
The Faunus-in-hiding nearly spat out the last bite of her Tuna steak. After supressing the feeling of ecstasy brought on by the taste, she deadpanned at her partner.
"Humph. I wouldn't put it past Arc to resort to violence." The Heiress added.
…Is it too late to switch teams?
"Weiss!" Ruby whispered. "You're supposed to be trying to get on his good side!"
"Weiss," Pyrrha, strangely, seemed to have the beginnings of a frown on her face. "I believe that perhaps you—"
A glint of light forced the Spartan's gaze to rapidly shift.
She leapt off the seat.
"Jaune! Behind you!"
She watched with rampant attention as the glass mug shot through the air, headed straight towards the back of her partner's head. She instantly grasped for Akoúo̱, intent on throwing the shield to intercept the glass, only to remember it was left in her locker. Her semblance leapt to her aid, silverware shifting off the table, only to halt in place as Jaune reacted.
Observe and reflect.
This axiom was the basis upon which Umbrella de Combat was founded. Few Huntsmen took the saying to heart, trusting in aura to shield them from harm. But unfortunately for the Winchester scion, Jaune Arc was one of the few that did.
It didn't even require a conscious thought.
The incoming projectile triggered his muscle memory. With a graceful pivot on his left foot, he turned to face about. Stretching his left hand out, he broke the momentum of the glass with ease and caught it so casually, he might as well have been playing a game of catch.
"To attack a man when his back is turned…" The Kingsman uttered.
He quietly ignored how tactically sound it was…and the fact that he'd done it many times himself.
"Have you no shame, Cardin?"
The man in question stood stunned for a moment. He told a barefaced lie in the next.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." CRML's leader pretended, smirking all the while. "My hand slipped."
Jaune gritted his teeth. They both knew that with the 'truth' spoken, he'd be the offender. But if he could goad him into attacking one more time…
"Oh please, Cardin." Jaune smiled. "I'm not the least bit bothered. But perhaps you could use a bit of advice for the future."
"It's better to let someone merely think you're an idiot, rather than open your mouth and prove it. Have a lovely lunch."
A quiet snicker was heard from a nearby table. Giggles escaped from the table across.
Jaune one, Cardin zero.
The Kingsman turned about, glass in hand and started his stride back to the table, gesturing for Velvet to move ahead of him.
"You think you're so funny, punk?!" Cardin raged. "Get back here and say that to my face! I dare you!"
Three. Two. One.
"Hmm?" Jaune looked back over his shoulder, a subtle smile on his face. "Did you say something?"
The leader of team CRDL lost it.
"You! You!" The Thug fumed. "Ugh! Gut him, boys!"
"Head back to the table first, Velvet, and tell my team not to worry." The Kingsman instructed. "I just need to let off a little steam." Oh, that was perfect!
Russel Thrush was the fastest member of Team Cardinal. He boasted a slim build, optimizing himself for speed and agility. Twin daggers were his weapons of choice, though he supposed steak knives would do for now. And without being burdened by the weight of plate armour donned by the rest of his team, he was the first to act.
Eager to eviscerate, the Bandit broke into a run.
He was the first to attack.
With the momentum generated through his dash, he rammed a leg against the ground. The force propelled him off the floor. In a display of incredible acrobatics, he coiled into himself, somersaulting through the air like a makeshift cannonball, heading straight for Jaune with all the strength he could muster.
He was the first to go down.
The Kingsman took aim. And let loose Cardin's own weapon against him. The glass which started the conflict shattered painfully across the Bandit's face. A sudden loss of consciousness left the Bandit-ball lying spread eagle across the floor.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Jaune quoted verbatim. "My hand slipped."
Four men stood at an impasse. Another laid comatose on the lunchroom floor. No one moved a muscle.
"Manners…" the Kingsman began.
"Maketh,"
"Break his legs, Jaune!" Damn it Nora, can't you read the mood?
"Man."
"It's painfully apparent that the lot of you don't understand what that means."
The Kingsman stared down the three remaining conscious members of team CRDL. Their eagerness had been replaced by shock when the glass struck down their comrade. And with every passing second, that shock slowly changed into anxiety as Cardin failed to response.
"Well, are we going to stand around all day?" Jaune mocked. "Or are we going to fight?"
Cardin finally broke out of his stupor. His first thought was to put his two minions to the sword.
"Don't just stand there, stupid!" He shoved Dove forward. "Sky! Wreck the dirty bastard!"
Neither of the two budged an inch. The Winchester scion failed to realize he'd lost the respect of his men.
"A display of cowardice at its finest, Cardin." Jaune continued the verbal onslaught. "A leader should lead by example."
Cardin locked eyes with the remnants of his team. His minions shifted uncomfortably.
"Out of the way, meatbags! Looks like if I need something done, I'll have to do it myself!"
The Bully lifted a bench and wielded it with only one hand. The display enthused his cronies.
Dove picked up a stack of lunch trays.
Sky brandished a pole taken off one of the banners.
Moving as one cohesive unit, the trio advanced.
"Surround him!"
Moving in a pincer formation, Cardin powered through the front, leaving Sky and Dove to flank from the sides.
The Bully heaved the bench above his head. He swung it down with all the force he could muster. Dove dived left. With speed and precision, he slashed horizontally at Jaune's waist. Sky leapt right. Airborne, he swiftly stabbed towards Jaune's midsection.
Their level of synchronization would've impressed Glynda enough to give a mild complement. Hence, it was truly a pity that their attacks were so obviously telegraphed.
Visualize and execute. Slam incoming from above. Slash on the left. Stab from the right.
Jaune took a step back. Dove's slash hit the air in front of him. Cardin's bench shattered on impact with the floor. The Kingsman decided to borrow Winter's favoured opening tactic. With swift speed and contemptuous ease, he slipped into a stance.
With a straightened back and his arm locked into place, Aegis thrusted forwards into Sky's chest, the force of Jaune's entire bodyweight compacting into the smallest of surface areas, smiting the brown-eyed gofer with enough power to form a crack on his armour and deplete a full quarter of his aura.
Sky's form broke and his body was sent spiralling backwards onto the cafeteria floor. Two were down for the count.
"Tch." Cardin grunted. "Dove, cuff him!"
Cardin's Crony ditched the lunch trays, hurling them towards Jaune with a quick forehand throw. Without even looking back, Aegis sprang open and deflected the projectiles, before closing up and being used to shove Cardin away.
Got him!
Dove rapidly closed the distance and went for the most secure, or rather, the only hold he knew. With the Bully charging in from the front—and diverting Jaune's attention away—he slipped arms underneath both of Jaune's armpits and locked him in place, stomach fully exposed.
"Now Cardin!" Dove bawled.
Amateurs.
He'd seen it coming from a mile away. If Cardin's verbal cue wasn't loud enough, the clattering of Dove's armour and the sound of weighty footsteps had made it painfully obvious. Then as if it wasn't enough, the Crony decided he needed to scream to the heavens. Jaune could feel the spit splattering on the back of his neck.
They'd pay dearly for that.
Smirk widening by the second, Cardin winded up his dominant hand for the most powerful punch he'd ever deliver. Of all the first-year students in Beacon, it was he who had the most brawn. He who had the strength to pummel an Ursa Major with a single swing of his mace. He whose punch had enough force to be heard coming.
"If you wouldn't mind taking the hit for me…"
He whose fist buried itself in Dove's stomach.
"My thanks."
The reversal had been sudden. A swift kick to the knee joint freed Jaune from the Crony's hold. With a nimble pivot on his left foot, the Kingsman swerved behind Dove, exchanging positions. Jaune gripped Dove's right shoulder and strengthened his hold, all but rooting him to the ground in perfect position.
Ouch. That had to hurt.
Dove joined the impromptu cafeteria slumber party.
The one remaining member of Team Cardinal broke out in a cold sweat.
Two men stood at an impasse. Three others laid comatose on the lunchroom floor. No one moved a muscle.
"Y-Y-You!" Cardin stuttered. "Just wait till my father hears about this!"
"Oh?" Jaune smiled. "Hears that you've attacked someone in broad daylight? In full view of cameras and Beacon students?"
The Bully rapidly paled.
Council Advisor Winchester tolerated his slightly violent and prejudiced tendencies, if only because it was discreet and could quietly be swept under the rug. Attacking a person in broad daylight though... he'd be lucky to keep the Winchester name.
"Tell you what." The Kingsman eye-smiled. "If you'd be kind enough to gather your team, leave the room and keep yourself in check, I'm sure we could end things here, and call it… an enthusiastic food fight. What do you say?"
Speaking politely and dressed smartly in a bespoke suit and tie, to the world, Jaune looked like a perfect gentleman. But to Cardin, the suit and tie coupled with the look in his eye, gave off an entirely different impression.
"Here's what's going to happen." The Don grinned. "You and your pathetic lackeys are going to make like a tree and leave. You will act like, no, become a bunch of goody-goodies and maybe if I'm in a good mood, you won't end up sleeping with the fishes. Capiche?"
Cardin Winchester fled as if his life depended on it.
Jaune returned to his seat and heaved a sigh of relieve. Eight pairs of eyes, four dropped jaws, an expression of disbelief, a Weiss statue, a Yang grin and one look of disappointment lamenting the fact that no legs were broken, greeted him.
You da man, Jaune!
"Sorry about that. Just had to let off a little steam."
Struggling to wipe the grin off his face, the youngest Kingsman tried to play it off as if nothing special just happened. No one bought it.
He rested Aegis against the table top, and returned his left hand to its rightful place, grasping his coffee tumbler in a careful embrace. He brought it to his lips and reclined slothfully against the back of the seat.
"Blake." He called out.
Her expression of disbelief crumbled.
"Y-Yes, Jaune?"
"Where's my tuna?"
AN: So… How was the chapter?
Poor Winter, still stuck at the same rank. I wonder what's going to happen when she finds out Jaune actually outranks her now.
I'm honestly quite a whimsical writer. I switch the mood from serious to comical at the drop of a hat. In fact, initial drafts of this chapter had Sky brandishing a baguette instead of a pole… It probably would've killed the mood.
Anyway, I know it's redundant at this point, but every author wants to know what the readers think about their story. I like reading suggestions and I would love it if you'd review. Even if it's just one sentence.
A Silver Dolphin,
Signing out.
Omake: Persuasive Action
The Alcoholic stumbled into the Wizard's office.
"Ozpin! What's this I'm hearing about you trying to set up both my nieces with Jaune?!" Qrow staggered.
Merely raising an eyebrow and taking a sip of coffee, the Wizard set off to refute the drunk's senseless claims.
"Nonsense." He avowed. Qrow instantly relaxed.
"Two isn't nearly enough for a harem. I'm trying to ship him with all of Team RWBY and a few other needy heroines."
After taking a minute for his mind to reboot and ask himself why he was still working for this man, Qrow cursed under his breath.
"I thought we agreed that relatives were off limits from your hobby!"
"And they are Qrow, so long as you will it. But can you be certain that they're better off that way?"
Oh no. No! Don't let him start!
"Yes. I'm a hundred percent sure." He growled.
"My nieces are strong, independent and perfectly capable of finding their own life partners." Qrow channelled his inner Taiyang, protective instincts flaring. "They don't need your matchmaking!"
The Shipping Wizard sighed.
"Qrow." Ozpin spoke sternly, his tone demanding the uttermost attention. "Ask yourself this. Is it possible to force a person to love another?"
"…No."
"Then, make no mistake, Qrow. Love is not something Man can simply control. Many stories end in tragedy because love is denied. Unrequited. Unsated."
The Wizard let out a resigned sigh. Qrow hadn't seen him look this tired since Amber fell.
Ozpin...
"And I cannot bear to see my students suffer the same fate. I realize that I cannot force love. But I can help my students find it."
Taiyang... If only Summer was still here with us...
"That is why I ship people. If I can at least save my students from the sorrows of a broken heart, then I will have done my job as Beacon's headmaster."
"...I guess I can understand that." Qrow admitted, a complicated expression arched on his face. "But still, Ruby and Yan—wait a minute!"
"Tch." Ozpin scoffed, the deflection failing.
Damn it Qrow, you almost fell for it! Again! Stay focused! Don't let him deflect!
"Even if that's the case, it does not explain why you're trying to get my nieces into a crazy three-way relationship with Jaune of all people!"
"Well, who else would you consider good enough for your nieces?"
As if alcohol was a brain booster, Qrow whipped out his hip flask and guzzled it down like there was no tomorrow.
Yet even under the influence of alcohol, the master Scythe Wielder remained focus, his mind clear. His drink did not cloud the mind. It gave him clarity. If only because Jaune somehow managed to switch out his whisky for water. Damn it Jaune! I don't have a drinking problem!
Hundreds of names narrowed down to dozens. I am not handing Ruby over to some sleazy blue-haired detective wannabe!
"Aw, crap…"
Dozens were cut down to one.
"We know his character, Qrow. He's one of the few honest souls, a person that's loyal and compassionate above all. He's someone who can do as he's asked and wants to do something good with his life."
"You've trusted Lancelot with your life before. He hasn't let you down. Can you say the same for any one of their would-be suitors?"
"Lancelot." He spoke into the scroll. "I need a favour."
"Just say the word."
"I need you to date my nieces."
"What?"
"Look. I know this sounds weird, and you probably already have someone you fancy. But please…Just this once. Give them a chance at happiness."
"...I'm honestly happy that you'd trust me enough for that. But are you absolutely sure Ozpin didn't put you up to this? I mean, despite his assurance that he won't 'ship' us with anyone, I still have a few doubts."
"…Stay away from my nieces!"
The Alcoholic stumbled into the Wizard's office. The Master Shipper smiled. The seeds had been sown. Just as he intended. The Arc charm would take care of the rest.
Regarding Jaune's character:
For the sake of this story, I've classified spies into two types. Flamboyant spies and Ninja spies. (Yes, I was on a coffee-high when I categorised these.)
Flamboyant spies are those like James Bond—Always the life of the party. Intriguing, mysterious, and charming. People know and remember them, but never see the full picture. This is the kind of spy which enters social circles, schmoozing to gather intrigue and make connections.
The kind uses an assortment of skills to take advantage of the situation to gain friends and favours. They'll leverage these connections to gain entry to places normally impossible to access and make use of favours to suit their purposes.
People are quick to play off flamboyant spies as a high-flying socialites. After all, your best friend—the one that wouldn't harm a fly—couldn't possibly be a spy, right?
Jaune's character is generally guided by how Canon Jaune would try his best to imitate the likes of a flamboyant spy. Hence, why he chose to wear the 'suitjamas' he did in chapter two. Even if it was unusual, it certainly was memorable and made him the life of the party, no?
I'll elaborate on the Ninja spy once I introduce her. (Yes, that was a hint. No, it's not Blake.)