Not really sure where I'm going with this one yet. It'll definitely be a crime/mystery story more than anything else.

Main premise is that Jaune went to Signal with Ruby and Yang, lives in Vale's suburbs with his family, but his dad, a former cop, is in jail for a crime he totally committed.

Pairing'll probably be Jaune with Weiss(Because both their dads are kind of twats) or Yang(because they both have some temper issues).


When he was growing up in the suburbs of Vale, there were to common legends about the neighborhood.

One was that a notorious Mafia leader lived in a baronial mansion protected by an iron gate and armed guards and that there was an incinerator in the back that may have been used as a makeshift crematorium.

The second legend was that a few blocks away from his property was a decommissioned, subterranean prison from the Great War where Atlesian prisoners were tortured and executed in secret.

Years later, he learned that both legends were true.


He hid the baseball bat behind his leg, so Trey-at least, he assumed it was Trey- wouldn't see.

The Maybe-Trey strutted towards him with the fake tan and emo-fringe hairdo and meaningless tribal tattoos lassoed around his bloated biceps. Ellie described Trey as a "purebred twat-waffle." This guy fit the bill to the T.

Still, Jaune had to be sure.

Over the years, he had developed a really cool deductive technique to tell if he had the right guy. Watch and learn:

"Trey?"

The choad-gobbler stopped, gave Jaune his best neanderthal forehead furrow, and said, "Who wants to know?"

"Am I supposed to say, 'I do'?"

"Huh?"

He sighed. See what kind of morons he has to deal with?

"You replied, 'Who wants to know?'" He continued. "Like you're being cagey. Like if I called out, 'Mike?' you wouldn't've said, 'You got the wrong guy, pal.', by answering 'Who wants to know?' you've already told me you're Trey."

You should've seen the perplexed look on this guy's face. Jaune took a step closer, hiding the bat out of sight.

Trey was all wannabe gangsta, but Jaune felt the fear coming off him in hot, axe body spray-scented waves. Not surprising. He was a respectable-sized guy for his age, not a five-foot woman Trey could slap around to feel big.

"What do you want?" Trey asked him.

Another step closer.

"To talk."

"What about?"

He swung one-handed because it was fastest. The bat lands whiplike on Trey's knee. He screams, but he doesn't fall. Now, Jaune gripped the bat with both hands. He recalled how Dad had taught him to hit in Little League. Bat back, elbow up. That was one of his mantras. How old was he then? Nine, ten? Doesn't matter. He did it just the way his old man taught him. He pulled the bat all the way back, elbow up, and stepped into the swing.

The meat of the wood landed flush on the same knee.

Trey went down as if he'd shot him. "Please..."

This time, Jaune lifted the bat high overhead, ax-chop-style, and, putting all his weight and leverage into it, he again aimed for the same knee. He felt something splinter when the blow landed. Trey howled in pain. He lifted the bat again. By then, Trey had both hands on the knee, trying to protect it. What the hell. Might as well be sure, right?

He went for the ankle. When the bat crash-landed, the ankle gave way and spread out under the onslaught. There was a crunching sound like a boot stepping on dry twigs.

"You never saw my face," Jaune told him. "You say a word, I come back and kill you."

He didn't wait for a reply.

Three blocks away, Jaune dropped the bat into a mini-mart dumpster. He'd worn gloves so there'd be no fingerprints. He'd bought the bat years ago at a garage sale near Spring Street. There was no way to track it back to him. Not that he worried. The cops wouldn't bother dumpster diving into cherry Slurpees to help out the likes of a professional asshat like Trey. on TV, they might. In reality, they'd chalk it up to a local beef, drug deal gone wrong or gambling debt or something else that made it well and truly deserved.

He cut through the lot and took a circuitous route back to where he parked his bike. He was wearing a black ball cap-very street-and kept his head down. Again, he didn't think anyone would take the case seriously, but one might meet up with an overzealous rookie who pulls CCTV or something.

It cost Jaune nothing to be careful.

He started the motorbike, hit highway 280, and drove straight back to his neighborhood, Westbridge. His scroll rang while at a red light-a call from Ellie. Like she knew what he was up to. Ms. Conscience. He ignored it for now.

Westbridge was the kind of "Dream Suburb" the media might call "family-friendly," maybe "well-to-do" or even "up-scale," but it wouldn't reach the level of "tony." There were Rotary Club barbecues, Vytal Festival tournament viewing parties, street carnivals, farmer's markets. Kids still rode their bikes to school. Highschool sports games were attended, especially when they played their rivals at Vale Central. Little league was still a big deal. Coach Shrike died a few years back, but they named one of the fields after him. Jaune still stopped by the field now and then on his way to Signal. Good memories were planted in that mulched grass.

He pulled up to his house and parked next to Mom's car. He saw that Ellie's was there as well, and he assumed she'd grabbed Ivy and Hannah from school on her way over.

Tammy and Ned Walsh from next door were cleaning their gutters. They both gave him a wave.

"Hey, Jaune," Ned said.

"Hey, Ned," Jaune said. "Hey, Tammy."

He was friendly like that. Mr. Nice, Responsible Teenager; one of the rarest of creatures to spot in suburban towns. He had worked hard to come across as boring, normal, reliable. At least, as normal as he could seem when he brought a sword, shield and handgun to school with him every day.

Dad had been in the clink for three years now, so he guessed some of the neighbors perceived them as that family. Most of the neighborhood knew the basics of their story by now.

He was still waving to Ned and Tammy. "How's Brody's team doing?" He asked, not that he cared.

"Eight to one," Tammy said.

"That's awesome."

"You and some of the girls should come to the game next Wednesday."

"I'd like that," He replied.

He'd also like to have his kidney removed with a grapefruit spoon.

Jaune smiled more, waved again like an idiot, then headed into the house. After that night-he still referred to it as "that night" because "the night his dad got arrested and destroyed the fabric of their family" just didn't have the same ring to it- the family had moved here.

After being greeted to the standard greetings from his mother and elder sisters, most wiped out form their shifts at work, he went to his room on the ground floor to see Joan at her desk, doing homework.

"How was your day?" She asked, not looking up from her work. Jaune shrugged, "Could've gone better. Yang kicked my ass in sparring again. You?"

"Aced a history quiz." She said monotonously. She liked to joke that never having to stretch her legs gave her more time to study. Her twin plopped down on the bed and opened his scroll to see a text from Yang herself.

Got some BIG news to tell you tomorrow - Y

Jaune typed back, Who's the father?

It was a miracle he didn't have his own HBO standup special. Yang replied with an emoji depicting a middle finger raised heavenward.

Dinner went by without too much weirdness. Ivy and Hannah were threatening to drop out of college for the fifth time this semester until their mother silenced them with a threat of making them pay for meals every time they came from their dorms on campus to the house, Blanc was gonna miss her friends as she graduated middle school. Mom had finally gotten her raise at work.

With eight kids, only three of which having full time jobs, and with two in college and one at a combat school, financial strain was a constant threat for the Arcs. Yet somehow they made due.


Later that night, Jaune and Ellie were hanging out in the living room before she had to get back home. "So, should we talk about Trey?" She asked.

"Who?"

Ellie frowned at him. "Trey."

Jaune's face was blank.

"Trey is Brenda's abusive boyfriend."

"Oh, right. What about him?"

"Someone attacked him with a baseball bat. He won't be able to walk for a long time."

"Ah, that's a shame," He said.

"Yeah, I can see you're crushed."

Jaune almost said, Crushed like Trey's leg, but he held back.

"On the positive side," Ellie continued, "Brenda was able to go back to his place. She got her stuff and the kids' stuff and she was finally able to sleep. So we are all grateful for that."

Ellie looked at Jaune a second too long.

"We shouldn't."

"What?"

"You first asked me if we should talk about Trey. I've decided we shouldn't." The boy said before getting up and heading to the fridge. "Say hi to Bob and the girls for me." He said.

He grabbed a soda and some chips for Joan and headed back to their room. Joan was playing a game on her scroll and accepted the snacks wordlessly. After a few minutes of silence, she asked, "Excited to go to Beacon?"

"I guess." He replied. The letter had come the month before with mixed reactions. Everyone was generally happy that he'd been accepted. Mom was relieved that his tuition to Signal was one more thing to check off their seemingly endless list of expenses. Joan was fairly happy to get her own room for the first time in a decade, but she and Blanc were gonna miss having him around.

"Did you hear about Ruby? She called me earlier today." She asked him.

"She okay?"

"Oh, I'd say she's better than okay."


Yang and Ruby were back at Signal, in one of the dorm buildings' rec rooms. Yang was schooling her at foosball when her scroll rang.

"Hey Jaune, what's up?" The blonde asked.

"Is Ruby with you?"

"Yep."

"Put me on speaker."

"Alright... Okay, we're listening."

"Great. So, what's this I hear about Ruby stopping a Dust store robbery?!" Jaune demanded. Yang laughed at his anger while Ruby groaned, "I'm never telling Joan anything again!"


Yeah, so, figured I'd put this in the anthology since I haven't posted any actual content in a while.

I've been writing a real RWBY fic to high heaven for the past few months and am about 30K words into it. I might release the first chapter or two in a bit to see how I feel about it and see what feedback it gets. It's sort of a cross-over with Neil Gaiman's American Gods along with some elements from other books and TV and stuff.

So, be on the lookout for that.

Bye.