Wraith

Chapter Twenty Five

Beta: Smithrooks

Yesterday's Ghosts

Beacon, many years ago…

They were calling it the 'Breach'.

The word was fitting enough, Jaune supposed, though it hardly described the full horror of what exactly had happened yesterday. Jaune himself had just been released from Beacon's impressive infirmary, the staff there surprised he had done all that he did and only suffered through severe aura depletion.

But Jaune knew the truth, he knew what had really happened. He had died.

Dead. Game over. Flame snuffed out. Freed from the mortal coil. Gone.

And yet here he was, alive.

Everyone was calling him a hero, a saviour and a legend of the people. But… that wasn't how Jaune felt. Heroes never die, or that's what he had thought anyway. Jaune was just… nobody. If he'd died and hadn't returned… a few people would be sad, but the vast majority would either be apathetic to the death of just another hunter, or they wouldn't hear about it in the first place.

The realisation of his own mortality was… surprising. Also slightly depressing that it took actually dying to realise, but still surprising. He'd known before that death was a possibility of course, but it had never fully struck him that he could die. Death had always been something to happen to other people, their suffering visible but unknowable to him.

Jaune had been told that death had a way of putting life into perspective, though perhaps when he'd first heard that so many years ago when his mother passed, he had never expected it to mean his death.

But now Jaune knew death, and he found himself… afraid.

The pain, the unbearable agony he had been presented with when his soul left his body… even the pain of being speared to a tree and then losing his sight paled in comparison to the utter anguish presented to him when he had dared try to deny death. But the true horror was the voice.

That voice… it was like a distortion. It didn't even have to do anything other than speak and reality trembled in fear; his own petty soul quivered even now at the mere thought of hearing those words again. They had been so absolute, so unreal that Jaune couldn't even comprehend or remember what it had said - and yet he knew, undeniably, that he had passed some kind of… test? Trial?

"Hey there, hero!"

It was just some random passerby, just another hunter. Just another number. They didn't really matter.

Jaune didn't bother to respond, his feet carrying him through the halls of Beacon silently towards his destination.

Something was different now too, there was this constant pounding in his head. A throbbing that wasn't quite painful, but was certainly creeping along the edge of being painful.

Hungry.

That word alone seemed to resonate within him, although he didn't know why. And it was constant, it was just there. Scratching away at the back of his mind, niggling at the edge of perception.

Jaune stepped into the elevator.

He forced his thoughts back onto his current mission, the strange desire lurking in the background once again, ever there, ever waiting.

He needed to speak to Ozpin. He needed to demand an answer. The Breach had been something of a tipping point for Jaune - why had Ozpin allowed Jaune to remain in Beacon? Especially given that Jaune was blind to Grimm, the very thing this school trained people to fight.

It was strange that Ozpin had not only allowed him to stay, but had also given Jaune his first glimpse into the art of aura sight - the very thing that Jaune had recently broken the limits of and discovered the new ability of soul sight. In hindsight, maybe he should have told Ozpin about that sooner? Jaune had literally discovered that one of the single most fundamental 'truths' that man had held onto for millennia was incorrect.

Aura wasn't the soul. But the soul… was aura? Tricky to explain… aura is like rain, and the soul the stormcloud.

And he needed to tell Ozpin about his… death. No one else could know, but Jaune trusted Ozpin not to immediately turn him into some kind of lab rat. If word got out that he'd died then Jaune wasn't really sure what exactly would happen, but he knew that things would change dramatically - and not for the better.

The elevator let out a soft 'ding' as it reached his destination, the doors parting to the side as Jaune stepped into the office of the powerful headmaster.

"Hello Jaune, I wasn't expecting you." As calm and collected as ever. Ozpin was consistent like that.

Ozpin's aura was like an endless green maze, so utterly deep that Jaune could hardly see where it ended. But he could see clearly where it began - Ozpin's soul. The real soul, underneath the layers of aura that shielded him. The soul was just as green as the aura, but it took the form of a kindly old man, a deep feeling of melancholic remembrance at his very heart.

And of course… there was a hole.

Jaune had noticed this… condition… on his own soul shortly after returning to Beacon - a gaping hole that went clean through his own soul. It hadn't been there before, and he knew it wasn't a result of his brief death.

No… this was because of death, just not his own death.

Apparently The Prick - Roman Torchwick - had died during the Breach, utterly immolated to the point where only through dental records could the 'body' be identified. The same was true for the scant few White Fang members that had survived the initial crash - Jaune had killed them.

He didn't feel particularly guilty.

Ozpin was the same, the same hole through his soul. It was odd to think about, that taking a life could have such an effect on the soul.

It didn't actually affect him in any way, it was just… there. The hole just existed. It wasn't like there was a true lack of anything, or as if he'd lost anything, but the symbolism wasn't lost on Jaune - what with the 'wound' going right through where his heart should be.

What did that make him now? Unnatural? Less than he used to be? Hollow?

Hmm… Hollow. He liked that one.

Jaune shook the thoughts away, he had to focus.

Hungry.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this," no he wasn't, "but I need answers."

Ozpin raised a mug of something to his mouth and took a small sip. Judging by the smell and Ozpin's usual drinking habits, Jaune would say that it was coffee. How the man guzzled as much as he did and not crap himself or have massive health problems was beyond Jaune.

"Please, sit down," the man said pleasantly, his hand vaguely gesturing to one of the seats that sat before his desk. "To which questions do you seek answers to?"

Jaune sat in the comfortable chair. "Why did you let me stay in Beacon?"

He'd asked before, of course, back when Ozpin had been teaching him the basics of aura sight. But the answer given had been little more than pointless rhetoric, and even as oblivious as Jaune knew himself to be at times, obviously Ozpin hadn't wanted to answer.

But now? Now Jaune wanted - nay, demanded an answer.

"You've asked me that before," Ozpin answered, his voice as calm and level as it always was. "You know the answer."

"No, I do not," Jaune shot back, "You told me that the world needed every hunter it could get. That was an answer, but not your answer."

A thin trickle of amusement ebbed from Ozpin's soul, as well as a surprising dash of… happiness?

"Very good, Mr. Arc," Ozpin said, smile evident in his voice, "few care for the distinction, let alone take note of it."

Had anyone else said that, it would have been arrogant, but Ozpin delivered the words not in a boastful way; he said it as though he were merely commenting on the weather. As if he was just stating a common fact.

It was also another deflection, cleverly hidden within a compliment.

Jaune had made a point of not covering his face before coming into this meeting, so as he began to glare at Ozpin he knew he was putting his vile and fearsome appearance to good use for once. "No," Hungry, "answer the question."

Jaune 'watched' as Ozpin sighed deeply and set his coffee to the side, the elder man's soul looking so utterly weary that Jaune couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him.

"Tell me, Mr. Arc," the aged man said slowly, "what is your father's semblance?"

Jaune blinked, however pointless the action may be for him, in confusion. Why was Ozpin asking that? That information would be on his father's file in the hunter registry - something Ozpin would have easy access to.

"Humour me," Ozpin answered Jaune's unasked question.

"Okay…" Jaune answered slowly, "he can cause a feeling of intense fear in his opponents, driving them into a panic. But it doesn't work on Grimm, only people."

Ozpin hummed, his hands steepling under his chin. "Very good, and what of your grandfather's semblance?"

Jaune's blind eyes narrowed. Why was Ozpin asking this? What was the point of it? "He…" hmm, it had been awhile since he'd had his lessons on this… "My grandfather was able to cast mass illusions, able to trick dozens of people at the same time."

"And did it work on Grimm?"

Jaune frowned. "No…" What was Ozpin getting at?

"Your great grandfather's semblance?" Ozpin asked once more, "Do you know what that was?"

That one was easier, due in large part to how famous Julius Arc had been. "He was able to inspire his allies, while at the same time causing his enemies to feel like a fight was unwinnable. It didn't work on Grimm."

Ozpin simply nodded. "I could go on, but I suspect that is enough for you to begin to understand." The elder man sighed, "There are few families in the world today that carry a hereditary semblance, the most notable being the Schnees of Atlas. You, Mr. Arc, are from one such family."

"What?" Jaune shook his head. That didn't make sense. Semblances that passed down through families were all the same, and he'd just explained that his family wasn't like that - so what was Ozpin smoking? "No, that can't be right."

Ozpin merely shook his head. "Your family has a hereditary semblance trait, rather than a specific semblance," the man's soul moved in slow eddies, "Think, Mr. Arc. What could that be? What common factor has each of your forefathers shared?"

How was Jaune supposed to answer that? He didn't know! His family was a powerful line of hunters and warriors - he knew that much. Most of them had used Crocea Mors, though there were a few exceptions to that, himself included in the number, that had found other means to achieve their ends. "They…" he didn't know the actual answer - but it was just like his father had always said: If you can't blind with brilliance, then baffle with bullshit. "They were all blonde?"

Jaune could almost taste Ozpin's confusion and amusement at that.

"No, Mr. Arc," Ozpin chuckled lightly, "I was referring the the impotence of their semblances against the Grimm, and their power against those with aura."

That… what did that matter? Not just the Arcs, but everyone on Remnant had spent their lives too busy fighting Grimm to ever have anything more than a petty and quick battle between each other - battles that either ended with both sides dead, or one side winning briefly before the Grimm came. Life on Remnant was hard, and if you weren't careful the world would swallow you up and crap you out as either a mangled corpse or something worse than the Grimm.

"I can see by the look on your face that you don't see any particular relevance in this information," Ozpin hummed, his green aura utterly dwarfing Jaune's own white. "You probably think that it doesn't matter, because the Grimm are the real threat."

Jaune nodded silently.

"Historically, you are correct," the green-souled man said quietly, "but since the end of the Faunus War, mankind has entered a new age - an age we have never before experienced."

Jaune leaned forwards. What was he talking about?

"We entered the age of abundance," Ozpin rose to his feet, slowly stepping over to and staring out of what Jaune assumed to be a window. "Or more precisely, Mr. Arc, we entered the age of over-abundance."

"Before this began, humanity never had time to do anything other than fight to survive," the headmaster continued, "then, over the course of untold millennia of struggling, we finally had enough numbers to start killing each other instead of the Grimm."

No, no, that couldn't be right… Ozpin had to be wrong. Grimm were the only enemy; human, Faunus, it didn't matter - Grimm killed both. The distinction amounted to absolutely nothing in the face of the extinction-level threat the Grimm posed. "That can't be right," Jaune muttered, "Why would the people shift their attention from the Grimm?"

Ozpin sighed, "Because for the first time ever, we could. Only within the last two decades have there been criminals such as Roman Torchwick - criminals a step above petty acts." The soul of the aged man seemed to wilt, "Before this, when someone committed a crime, or violated the law in some manner, there were only two punishments: conscription into the military, or being sent to fight the Grimm with little more than a sword - a death sentence."

Jaune knew that, everybody did. But that wasn't how things worked now, things were better now. There were prisons, rehabilitation facilities - much more humane than what basically amounted to little more than forced servitude or a messy and painful death. But what did this have to do with Ozpin's point?

"I can see that you are sceptical Mr. Arc, and while it may be unfortunate, this is the truth." Ozpin's voice became resolute, "Mankind now faces enemies from both within our safe havens, and outside our walls. The problem grows worse by the day, more and more hunters straying from the path we had set before them. They become those like Torchwick, or the White Fang."

"Okay…" Jaune said slowly, the full implications of what Ozpin was saying beginning to dawn on him, "but what does this have to do with me? I asked why you allowed me to be a hunter, not-"

Ozpin cut him off, "That is my point, Mr. Arc. Hunters - defenders trained to defeat Grimm, we have hundreds of men and women like this. But we do not have a single hunter dedicated solely to stopping the rising number of rogue elements the Kingdoms are now facing."

"'Rogue elements'?" Jaune repeated, a trickle of anger ebbing into his words, "You mean hunters that aren't hunting Grimm anymore."

Hungry.

"Yes," Ozpin sounded utterly unapologetic. "Hunters that take, but do not give. These are worse than Grimm - worse because unlike a civilian who simply does not know better, these men and women know the darkness that humanity faces - yet they choose to follow their own selfish desires and wants over that of the collective."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Jaune barked, real anger twisting his expression into something monstrous.

Ozpin wasn't fazed by the negativity, not in the slightest. He turned away from his window and faced Jaune, green soul still as a stone. "Because, Mr. Arc, you will never, ever, be the hunter of Grimm you envisioned yourself to be."

The words were like a punch in the gut.

"You can't see Grimm," Ozpin drawled, "but your family's semblance trait gives you a unique advantage against hunters. When your bleeding and ruined body was dragged into the infirmary after initiation, I was tempted to discard you - but I chose not to because I saw the potential for the first… anti-hunter… to be born."

Jaune's anger fled in an instant. Anti-hunter? The thought made him sick. What was Ozpin saying? How could he say that?

"You will be a hunter not of Grimm, but of men," Ozpin continued, "you will serve the Kingdoms against the darkness that even now threatens to overwhelm us."

A moment of silence, the pounding of his heart the only noise Jaune could hear.

"I am sorry, Mr. Arc," Ozpin laid his hand upon the blind boy's shoulder, "but if you are to become a hunter, this is the path you must take."

No… it was like being slapped in the face. The cold logic in the words made it hurt all the worse. Ozpin wasn't being cruel about it, or at least he wasn't trying to be cruel, but it still stung to hear. Jaune had known for some time now that as a hunter he would primarily be taking on missions to catch criminals rather than Grimm, but to be told that he would only be taking on criminals - rogue hunters - that was practically pissing on his dreams.

But it was also correct.

Jaune's actions during the Breach were a fluke - he would never be truly effective against the Grimm the same way the rest of his team, nay, any hunter would be. At most Jaune could have others direct him, but that would mean he was still a burden - and burdens were either quickly discarded, or they died.

"This is cruel," Jaune whispered, any vestiges of his former anger utterly dead.

"Yes, it is," Ozpin agreed, "But such is the way of the world, Mr. Arc."

Hungry.

Jaune slumped in his chair, sorrow marring his spirit. "So this is it then? This is to be my life?"

"If you wish to walk the path of the hunter, then yes it is," the elder man replied, "you will attend all the normal classes, function for all intents and purposes as just a normal student. And when such a time comes that your team takes on missions, they will be tasks suited to someone of your nature. After your tenure at Beacon is completed you and your team will part ways, they to become hunters of Grimm, and you to become a hunter of men."

This wasn't fair. But then again, life wasn't fair.

This was what he was going to be… a hunter, but not really ahunter. Alternatively, he could walk away; abandon his friends, abandon his team, abandon Beacon, abandon his promise.

He had promised to help everyone who needed it, to save the world.

Was that lost to him now?

No… no it wasn't. He may not be a hunter like he had once dreamed of, but he would still be helping people, still be saving people. That was his dream, that had always been his dream - what exactly he was to spend his life fighting was immaterial, so long as he could help people. "You want this," Jaune said, the sorrow he had felt moments ago washing away. "I can accept that. But since it's you that wants this, then you will help me with this. Train me."

The soul of Ozpin actually looked a little startled, "Mr. Arc, Professor Goodwitch is an excellent instructor. I assure you that every resource and advantage will be at your disposal."

"No!" Jaune shot back, "You want me to hunt criminals for you, to spend my life fighting a war that, by your own admission, can never be won. You owe me this much."

Ozpin was silent for a moment, the endless green of his aura shifting around in a myriad of emotions that Jaune couldn't quite decipher.

"If I start to train you," the headmaster said slowly, "then there will be no turning back, Mr. Arc."

Jaune smiled weakly. "I know."

Ozpin grasped Jaune's hand and pulled the blind boy to his feet. "Then let us begin, Mr. Arc."

Beacon, present day…

Ruby slumped down against the wall of her room.

Tears streamed down her face, shuddering sobs wracking her body as she cried.

Yang was dead, Blake was dead… it was just her and Weiss now. And she'd killed the Jaune of this world. Shot an innocent boy through the chest just on the off chance that he'd become like the Lord of Hunger. It was the right thing to do. The right thing…

She kept saying that to herself, but it never made her feel any less like a monster.

She had shot him… and then Blake had stabbed him.

He could have been another Nihilus. He could have made it all happen again… but he wouldn't, couldn't, now - because he was dead. Dead, like that little girl… Gods, she'd never forget the look of despair on Jaune's - her Jaune's - face when that bullet tore away her life.

"I will never forgive you. I will never forgive any of you!"

Those words haunted her dreams, just as Nihilus himself dogged her during her waking hours. Was she doing the right thing? Yang and Blake were gone now thanks to her decisions. The Ozpin and his precious Maiden from her world were little more than ash. Ruby and Weiss were utterly alone… and worse still was that Weiss was on the other side of the world, far away in Atlas overseeing the construction of the only thing that had ever shown any semblance of being able to contain Nihilus.

Ruby was here in Beacon, surrounded by people, but with no one to talk to.

The sobs grew quieter, but the tears still flowed. She'd always wanted to be a huntress, a hero… but what was she now? A murderer? A failure? Both, really.

It just… why did everything have to be so hard? Ever since the Vytal Festival, things had just spiraled out of control. On that day, the day her friend Jaune killed his team, that was the day her innocence died. Before that, Ruby had still believed that everyone could be saved. Hell, she and Jaune had promised to do it together…

"I'm going to save everyone who needs help. I don't care if he thinks it's a fool's hope, but when I become a full hunter I will never stop until I save the world!"

Gods, how she wished she could turn back time…

The sound of her scroll ringing drew Ruby from her melancholic thoughts, the small device buzzing happily on her belt.

Ruby sniffed and answered audio only. She didn't want people to see her right now. "Hello?"

"Miss Rose," it was Ozpin, and he sounded surprisingly harried, "there has been a development. You'd best come to my office quickly. Miss Nikos has just returned to the school; she claims that Mr. Arc is still alive."

...What?

That doesn't make sense. Ruby was no doctor, but she knew that being shot and then stabbed through the heart tends to kill people. There was no way that the Jaune of this world was alive. He was dead. Dead like the little girl…

"I'll… be right there," she muttered back, quickly ending the call a moment later.

People tended not to survive what Ruby had done to the boy, but that didn't quite account for Nihilus' interference. Ruby had absolutely no idea about the upper limits of the power her fallen friend had acquired - and she knew well enough that when she and the others fought him in Vale he wasn't really paying attention to the fight, that he was playing with them. Sure, they may have pushed his stolen Maiden power to its limit - but his power?

What her Jaune had become was beyond her understanding. Maybe he… created a new Jaune? Cobbled something together from all the other souls he had already stolen. Or perhaps it was merely an illusion of some kind? Something to trick Pyrrha and to set Ruby herself off guard when she found out.

Or perhaps Nihilus really does know how to revive the dead.

Ruby shook her head as she left her room. That couldn't be it… Nihilus couldn't bring back the dead, otherwise he would have saved his daughter and his wife after they… after she…

Ruby squeezed her eyes shut tightly, her hands shaking as she held the rifle form of Crescent Rose in place. She had to do it, she needed to do it - the nightmare ended today. Ruby breathed out slowly, and then she pulled the trigger.

BANG!

Two bodies collapsed into the snow - one she was expecting, and one that would haunt her dreams forever. Pyrrha gasped weakly and clutched at a smaller figure who lay still, a little figure… a little girl with red hair… Oh gods, what had she done?

"NO!"

It wasn't Ruby that screamed.

Ocean, present day…

Jaune stayed silent as Nihilus pulled him through the sky, his eyes tracing over the ocean as it passed by in a blur beneath him. Nihilus had said they were heading to Atlas, something about making the 'Lord of Pain' suffer, but honestly… Jaune was just tired. Tired of the struggle, tired of the pointless fight. He'd been 'traveling' with Nihilus for over a week now, and what had he accomplished? He became a mass murderer, and then he died - and to ice the cake, the death didn't even stick like it was supposed to. The only thing he'd accomplished was getting Pyrrha away from the monster that was Nihilus.

"He used to be a good man."

Jaune jerked at the sound of the voice, his eyes briefly looking up to see if it was Nihilus who had spoken, but the false lord's mouth was shut - he didn't even acknowledge Jaune looking at him.

"He used to have so much kindness, so much mercy."

The voice was definitely female, Jaune could say that much for certain upon hearing it again. Looking around, he saw nothing beyond what he'd been seeing the last hour or so; water and the occasional bird. The voice didn't sound like a child either, so it definitely wasn't Violet trying to talk to him again.

"That mercy dried up over years, just like yours is starting to now."

Jaune winced, the comparison between himself and Nihilus hitting close to the bone. Despite what the 'memory' thing said about it, Jaune was still terrified of the prospect of becoming like Nihilus was.

"He only wanted what was best for others, we just wanted to live quietly."

The voice was familiar. Jaune couldn't quite place it, but something kept tickling at the back of his mind, telling him he'd heard that voice before…

"When you get to Atlas, Jaune is going to assault the academy. He's going to want to draw Ironwood out."

Why would Nihilus want Ironwood? Wasn't he after the 'Lord of Pain'? Unless… unless they were the same person. And the way she, the voice, referred to Nihilus as 'Jaune'... she must know him somehow - know him not as Nihilus, but as what he was before that.

"Except Ironwood has already left, gone to Vale to confer with Ozpin about the threat Jaune poses. This is going to make Jaune very angry."

And what could he do to stop him? Jaune was just one guy. The immense power of the fire ring Nihilus gave him was easily enough to make him stronger than even the best hunters, as was the power of the newer ring - the ring that granted immeasurable knowledge over the workings of gravity Dust. But for all the might that those rings lent him, Jaune was still merely an ant before Nihilus' power.

"I know. Weiss is there as well, not the Weiss you know however - the Weiss from our world."

Weiss? Heh, the Snow Angel? Gods, it seems like he'd said those words so long ago… but what was she doing here? Unless…

Oh God.

Weiss was in Atlas. Blake died in Vale. A huntress with gauntlets of some kind attacked them in Dorme, that must have been Yang. And a huntress with a red sniper rifle attacked him… Ruby.

RWBY…

Team RWBY was after them…

"On her own she stands no chance against him, but she won't fight him alone - she's got mechs, hundreds of machines to help her. Using technology from our world, she has enhanced them with aura."

Jaune stopped himself from scoffing. Droids wouldn't help, this… alternate Weiss was doomed if she tried to fight Nihilus.

"He will still win - but it will force him into actually exerting his power in the fight. Not the power you've seen before now, just a modicum of his real power. Please, you cannot let him linger in Atlas - if he does, then thousands of people will die."

Wait… the voice, it couldn't be…

"I know you're tired, I know you want it to stop. But you need to delay him as long as possible, get him out of Atlas and stall him somehow. I'm trying to help him, his thoughts, his mind…"

…Pyrrha?

1

A/N

A chapter heavy on exposition, but necessary for what comes later.

I'm not feeling too great right now (God I hope I don't sound whiny…) so I'll keep this brief: RANT! (Don't worry, I still love you all!)

Don't believe everything at face value!

I get PM's every now and then (about two or three a week) which is just readers saying things like 'but Nihilus said this in chapter x, but then a couple chapters later he says the exact opposite. Does this make you a bad writer since you can't keep continuity?'

Ack, why? People lie. People say what they think is true - not what is actually true.

Everything I write is subject to unreliable narrators, why? Because it's exclusive to the specific point of view from various characters. The vast majority of the characters think Nihilus is an evil bastard, but Nihilus thinks he's perfectly justified… the point I'm making is that everything is subject to different interpretations.

For example!

Right at the very end there? When Jaune is communicating with Pyrrha? Spoilers, but that's not her - Pyrrha is dead and gone, nothing can change that. It's subtle, but the signs are there - that is not Pyrrha. For hints go re-read chapter seventeen with Nihilus speaking to Ruby.

RANT OVER!

I still love each and every one of you, I'm just a bit irritable thanks to my recent circumstances.

Reviews:

Yomunot:

Thanks for reviewing.

Thank you! I try to keep things interesting.

Wraith isn't even half done yet, and thus some elements - like the horror - are either muted or absent. Horror will play a role, though perhaps not one most people would expect - when I chose those genre tags I was not referring to what the reader is intended to feel, but instead what the main characters will feel. Different, but I like to think it will work.

The Powder Keg:

Thanks for reviewing.

What we've seen of young Nihilus (blind Jaune) shows that he cannot 'see' Grimm - even with his aura sight. Nihilus in the present is... aware when Grimm are nearby, but for the most part he has no effective way to determine anything more than that. Well, I suppose he could just kill everything around him (not semblance), but that would make for a dull story - Nihilus kills everyone, story over.

Shaded Azure:

Thanks for reviewing.

Indeed, narration from Nihilus' point of view. Like others, he is still biased towards his own opinions and beliefs - but Nihilus is equal parts deluded as he is all knowing, so when it comes to him just take a few details with a grain of salt. Or an entire salt shaker.

Tobi14:

Thanks for reviewing, twice…

All members of RWBY are pretty… diverse… in their… skill… sets. Ack, screw politeness - RWBY (the team) is fairly worthless for anything other than being martyrs and more bodies to throw against the Grimm. RWBY (the anime) is something I equal parts hate as I do love - why? Because the overwhelming majority of the character are utter, utter morons. But because the world of Remnant is brilliant (to me), and I love to think about the different ways that society would work in a world such as that one.

As for your question:

I'd say that it is to some degree instinctive, like flexing your gut if someone's about to hit you, but it would get progressively better/stronger with practice and proper instruction.

I'm sorry for the rant (well, mostly sorry…), I still love you all! But you know what would make me love you more? Leaving a review!