Elves.
With the exception of their toy building, cookie baking, war making counterparts, they are an ancient race of long lived beings similar in appearance to the average human that are a staple of the fantasy genre. Common depictions of the popular fantasy race often portray elves as tall, lithe, and nimble humanoids with long pointed ears, unfathomable beauty, and skills with a bow so extraordinary they are worthy of song.
But you must be asking yourself, what do elves have to do with Jenivieve? Well, I'd be telling the truth when I say she closely resembles one, for a round-ear that is.
At full height, Jenivieve stood as tall as Jacqueline, making her taller than Jocelyn, and possibly the rest of her siblings as well.
Compared to her older sisters, Jenivieve was not muscular like Jocelyn, nor was she curvaceous like Jacqueline. Rather, she was quite spindly with a respectable bust, and judging by the way she was currently stretching, unnaturally flexible to boot.
It was as though someone took a regular person and smooshed them on both sides, creating a taller but thinner individual.
Her hair, as noted earlier, was golden blonde. It was styled in a large ring that ended right below the small of her back and was held in place with a blocky, ornate hair clip. If it were to fall loose, the length of her hair would touch the floor, and then some.
Jenivieve's facial features were by far the most alluring aspect of her. Her beauty was immaculate. She had flawless skin as pale as the shattered moon and smoother than silk, small perky lips, and a button nose. But her eyes, her eyes were hypnotic. They were like shimmering pools of bright molten emerald that pulls you in from the mere sight of it. Once you catch a glimpse of them, it'll take every ounce of willpower you've got to wrench yourself away.
Her clothes, if you could even call them that, was a skintight latex body suit that had been messily painted over... And that was about the extent of it. She wasn't wearing anything else, which left absolutely nothing to the imagination. In fact, despite covering up her entire body from the neck down, and splattered with paint, the thin material adhered to Jenivieve's curves, acting like a second skin of sorts. Almost every detail of her body was there, as if she were actually naked...
"Ahem," Jenivieve coughed, snapping her peers out of their stupor.
"Whuah!? An elf!" Yang cried, trembling in place, turning more than a few eyes over to her directions. "Uh, I-I mean, it's nice to meet you, Jenivieve. Eh, heh, heh..." She smiled sheepishly.
"Y-yeah, what she said," said Nora, coughing into her hand. "I'm talking about meeting you, not the other part- You know what, just forget all about that. Hi, my name's Nora. Your brother's my team leader." She quickly changed the subject by skipping right to introductions.
Each of the girls politely introduced themselves to Jenivieve and explained their relation with Jaune, meanwhile, Jacqueline remained quiet, rolling her eyes at her sister's shenanigans. When all was said and done, Nora continued the conversation by asking about the obvious.
"Um, wow. Nice entrance. Little creepy, but it definitely caught us off guard."
"Entrance?" Jenivieve raised an eyebrow.
"Was there a reason you were like..." Blake motioned to the chains, "that?"
"Oh, that. That's how I sleep," Jenivieve replied nonchalantly. "You just woke me from my nap."
"Er, what?" Ruby was nonplussed. "You're telling me you like sleeping like that? Looks really uncomfortable."
"Oh, it is. That's the point," Jenivieve replied nonchalantly, again. "Sensory deprivation, bondage, and masochism. External stimuli that help to jump start the creativity in my head, the sparks of inspiration to the artist. I must always be vigilant in catching the fading embers that lend their power to my hands, to my work. Even if it means chaining myself up in pitch black darkness for hours at a time."
"That's... a bit extreme, don't you think?" Weiss commented, looking particularly perturbed towards Jenivieve's unhealthy dedication to her craft.
"Nothing is too extreme for art!" Jenivieve suddenly exclaimed, looking positively offended. Everyone was taken aback by her outburst, flinching at the sheer volume of her voice. Three guesses as to who she might have inherited it from. "My dedication to my craft is proof of that."
"I'm sorry, everyone. She's like this all the time, ever since she spoke her first words," Jacqueline sighed, pinching at the bridge of her nose. "Out of six other sisters and one brother, Jenivieve had to be the artist."
"While we're on the subject, if that's how you sleep, than why was, er, your nap made to look like a sculpture," Blake asked.
"Philistine, have you not heard of performance art?" Jenivieve accused, motioning towards to her bed.
"M-me? A philistine?" Blake felt like she'd taken a slap right to the face.
"I am an artist asleep as I am an artist awake. Why would I let something like sleep stop me from doing what I do best; create art, even if I am the art! And seeing as you girls couldn't tell me apart from an actual sculpture, I'd say my work speaks for itself."
"And this wouldn't be the first time either," Jacqueline muttered faintly beneath her breath.
"This has happened before?" Pyrrha whispered back.
"Several times, in fact..." She frowned.
One Year Ago...
"Look, I know I'm not that great, but I'm not going to get any better if everyone keeps babying me. Crocea Mors is as much a part of me as it is a part of the family. I want to honor our legacy. I wanna go to Beacon. I... I want to be a hero that everyone can look upon and know that hope still burns bright, even if the Grimm want to eat everybody... Thanks for hearing me out, sis. It feels refreshing to actually speak my mind without everyone worrying about me."
"Jaune? What are you doing in my room?"
Jaune stopped his ramblings and quickly scrambled to face the source of the voice. He saw his older sister, Jenivieve, standing by the doorway, still dressed in that ridiculous bodysuit of hers and carrying several bags of art supplies. He turned to the other 'Jenivieve' that was supposedly resting upside down beside him, suspended from the ceiling by a long chain that also binded her entire body like a metallic cocoon.
He performed several double takes between his two sisters before coming to the conclusion that he'd been spending quality time with his sister's mannequin lookalike, again. Sighing, he replied to his sister with a dejected tone laced in his voice.
"Pouring my heart out to a wooden dummy for the last hour and a half, it would seem..."
"So, word is you all lust for my baby brother," Jenivieve said out of the blue.
"Well, l-lust is such a strong word," Ruby sputtered at Jenivieve's brazenness as she and everyone else blushed profusely. "I-I-I mean, J-Jaune's a great guy and all. B-but to lust after him, I-I-"
"Ah, ha ha ha! I jest, I jest," Jenivieve laughed, smiling back with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure you all care for him deeply. I won't tease you too much. My family will do that for me."
"Good to know where you stand on the matter," Nora deadpanned.
"But, Jaune..." Jenivieve became wistful at his name. "Oh, dearest baby brother! Why don't you call home more often? Big sister misses you!" she proclaimed dramatically.
"We all miss him, Jenivieve," said Jacqueline, resting a comforting hand on her sister's painted shoulders. "But the fact of the matter is he's a hunter now, and a leader at that. I'm sure he's busy with important leader business back at Beacon."
"Come on, Neptune." Jean-Luc smirked. "Servir le client. Rapidement."
"It's harder that it looks, man!" Neptune retorted. "Besides, you're not the guy who's gotta deal with that!" he pointed an accusing finger towards Dr. Oobleck, who had his glasses hanging at the side of his ear to emulate a crude monocle. He was currently posing as a refined english gentleman with a terrible accent and a case of fervent nationalism.
"I say, good chap. I could certainly go for some bangers and mash and fish and chips and tea. Pip, pip, cheerio! Ello' guv'ner! How about that cricket, eh? Keep calm and carry on. We shall fight on the beaches. The sun never sets on the empire. God save the queen!"
"Aaaaaaaaah!" Neptune screamed. He screamed, but no one would listen to his anguished cries of torment.
"I'm sure he does," Jenivieve mumbled. "But he was my muse! I hit my stride with my art whenever he was around. Now, I struggle to even find the tiniest of inspiration. I feel hollow, and lately my artwork has suffered for it. They lack soul, character, substance." She turned her head and stared intently at one of the art hung up on the wall. Everyone turned to see what she was viewing and saw a crude drawing scrawled with crayons. "They lack heart..."
Even from afar, the drawing was easy to make out. It was a picture of Jaune and Jenivieve as stick figures, drawn with bright electrifying colors and the talents of a four year old. It was captioned with the words, 'tu Mi beeg sistUr JenneVeVVeV. lov Jone'.
"That's adorable!" Ruby grinned.
"Hmph, Jaune should've been a artist like his sister." Weiss had a ghost of a smile on her lips.
"Oh, I'm so holding that one over Jaune," Yang quickly snapped a photo of the drawing on her scroll.
"H-how sweet," Pyrrha's eyes were sparkling at the drawing. She felt like her heart would burst if she stared at it any longer.
"Aaaaaw, how cute!" Nora gushed. "He did that all by himself?"
"Yes, all by himself," Jenivieve smiled fondly. "He could barely spell or count to ten, yet he made art that came from the heart. I wish I could recapture that magic, even though he's gone. But how?" She looked lost in thought. "Maybe it's time to start sleeping on a bed of nails..." The girls' eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets at the crazed suggestion. "...while wrapped in chains. Yes, that sounds like a good idea."
"Or, or, you could do something that doesn't involve self flagellation in the pursuit of artistic inspiration," Weiss reasoned.
"Sleeping on a bed of nails isn't self flagellation. In fact, I hear it's good for your circulation," Jenivieve countered. "But if you don't thinking resting atop six hundred pointy nails is a good idea, then what is?"
"Uh, you could try, um, looking at the bigger picture?" Yang offered, unsure of her own words.
"Hmm... Nah, too cliche."
"What about looking at nature?" said Pyrrha.
"Pfft, what is this, amateur hour? Painters have drawn inspiration from nature for centuries. It gets old after a while, believe me."
"How about listening to music?" said Blake.
"Music, eh? That could work," Jenivieve rubbed at her chin. "Hey, Jacqueline. Let me borrow your Slayer album."
"W-what?!" At the mention of the metal band, the color from Jacqueline's face drained till she became white as a sheet. She fumbled with her speech, and attempted to fabricate a legitimate defense. "I-I don't own a Slayer album, and certainly not an autographed copy of Reign in Blood, their best selling album of all time... Not that I would know that since I don't own it. Nope, not at all. It's a totally foreign item to me."
"Okay, what about Diamondhead?"
"No!"
"Iron Maiden?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Black Sabbath?"
"That one's mint in the package! Er, I mean, I don't own any music from these rocking metal bands whatsoever. N-not that I would know they rock."
"Well, I guess music is off the table... for now," Jenivieve furrowed her brow. "Any other suggestions?"
"M-maybe the inspiration was with you the whole time?" said Ruby, not knowing whether to cringe or facepalm herself for uttering such a cheesy line.
"...The inspiration was with me the whole ti- Of course!" Jenivieve exclaimed, struck with a eureka moment. She began muttering incoherent nonsense in her mother's native tongue, occasionally switching between english every few sentences. "No, it can't be... Unless!" Jenivieve pulled snapped her attention over to the girls and framed them with her fingers. "Yes, yes! It was in front of me all this time. I'm feeling it, the inspiration!"
Without a moment to lose, Jenivieve moved with elf-like agility, snatching a blank canvas, brushes, and paints before setting it all down and turning it into a masterpiece right before our heroine's eyes.
Her hands were a technicolor blur. With a brush in between each finger, the clutches of her toes, and even between her teeth, she ran them across the canvas with wild twisting limbs that had all the subtle grace of a seizure induced octopus. Sprays of paint, small and large, would violently erupt from the tips her brush with each vigorous stroke. She would occasionally take pause, dunking her brushes straight into the paint pots before resuming her madness unabated.
"This sensation! Oh, how I've missed this!" Her outlandish cries of joy were as maniacal as they were rapturous. It was this sadistic glee she partook in her work that disturbed her peers to no ends.
Before long, Jenivieve slowed to a complete stop, basking in the afterglow of her painter's high. Shivers wracked throughout her body, twitching spasms of pleasure that were not dissimilar to having experienced an, ahem, orgasm. Or in her case, being struck with an fleeting bout of artistic inspiration. Her work was done, slower than she had expected from days of idleness, but the results spoke for themselves.
When she finally came down from her high, she spun around, revealing her brand new painting, and a lopsided grin plastered on her face along with a spray of red paint, conjuring the disconcerting image of an unhinged serial killer. Thankfully, everyone's attention was on the painting rather than her unflattering visage. With flair, she motioned to her art.
"Behold, my latest creation. I call it, The Flower Knight."
Painted in the classical idealistic styles of the Renaissance, The Flower Knight depicted a stalwart knight clad in pearl white armor overlooking a field of sunflower from atop the dirt road. He was waving towards the group fair maidens that were tending to the bountiful fields below, six beautiful woman wearing an assortment of colorful dresses, few of whom waved back to the knight from afar.
It was a simple painting. It lacked flash or pizazz, but it didn't need any. This painting was all about the knight, the flowers, and the sextet of fair maidens.
The girls had to admit, despite witnessing what was perhaps the most bizarre and unearthly painting session of their lives, Jenivieve had the talent and the skills to back up her phenomenal art, when they made sense that is. Within a matter of minutes, she had transformed a blank white canvas into a masterpiece with paint and a few brush strokes. But when they observed the painting more closely, they discovered some peculiar details.
One, the knight was blonde, and looked suspiciously similar to Jaune. Two, the six maidens were clearly supposed to be all of them, right down to their color schemes and hairstyle, albeit slightly older and dressed in sixteenth centuries fineries. And three, it can be assumed that Jenivieve's inspiration was their apparent love for her younger brother, which she represented through this stunning oil painting.
Subtle implications aside, their inner reactions were mixed.
Nora, being Nora, adored the painting, and she liked her alternate self. It was like staring into a portrait of an parallel universe, one where she was a peasant in the middle ages. Yang was flattered, seeing as her other self had her cleavage hanging out loud and proud like a busty Bavarian barmaid.
Pyrrha and Blake were bewildered, both their painted counterparts' bust had been shrunken down a few sizes for whatever reason. Meanwhile, the inverse had happened to Ruby and Weiss, who were both on par with Yang's own impressive bust. It was as if Jenivieve scooped up Pyrrha and Blake's bosoms like a lump of wet clay and slapped them over Weiss and Ruby's own. Needless to say, the contrast between one another was absolutely jarring.
"Huh, now I regret not drinking more milk..." Ruby pouted, crossing her arms.
"Wow." Weiss blinked a few times. "I look good."
"Speak for yourself..." Blake grumbled. Usually this kind of thing wouldn't bother her, but seeing herself in a beautiful painting with a near flat chest made her feel somewhat self conscious. Luckily for her, misery loves company.
"I-I'm not that small... am I?" Pyrrha stuttered.
"Oh, don't take it personally, Pyrrha." Nora patted her friend on the back, a smug smile plastered on her face. "Not all of us could have great painted renditions of ourselves, such as myself."
"Yes, because that is the problem," Blake continued to sulk, her ears drooping as a result.
"O-ooh, I can still feel the tingling sensation of inspiration coursing through my veins. It feels like a warm straightjacket of ecstacy!" Jenivieve shuddered uncontrollably, hugging herself to still her writhing frame. "I can't stop now, I need to get more canvas, more paints! My burning drive cannot be smoted!"
And so, Jenivieve began dashing around her room in the same frenzy as before, gathering art supplies from every corner of the room and recklessly splashing paint on multiple canvases. As the seconds ticked on by, she became consumed by her art. The world around her slowly morphed into white static, both visually and audibly. All that mattered was her next masterpiece, and the one after that, and the one after that...
From an outsider's perspective, it would've appeared that Jenivieve had gone off the deep end. But to her audience, this was her modus operandi. And while the girls could respect her passion and eccentricities, they weren't going to lie, that woman lived in a world of her own design.
One that was filled with paint and pain.
"We should leave her be," Jacqueline began, breaking the awkward silence that surrounded the girls. "When Jenivieve gets in one of her moods, it can be impossible to get her out of it. Better to let it run its course, by suppertime preferably."
Ruby and her friends moved a lot quicker than they would've liked. Not just to meet the next sister down the line, but to get as far away from Jenivieve as possible before reconvening together at the dinner table. She was certainly a firecracker, and not someone you'll forget about anytime soon. But it was that same energy and unmistakable presence that drove them off. There was only so much of the woman you can take in all at once without feeling like you lost a part of yourself in the process.
The walk was quiet, and relatively uneventful. Jacqueline kept to herself, and everyone was too preoccupied with ridding themselves of Jenivieve's infectious energy to think straight, let alone ask a question.
Eventually, the group reached the room of the next sister, or at least they had assumed so. The area in question was cold and unpleasant, mainly due to the fact that it was a large utilitarian warehouse that reeked of industrial grease, fresh gunpowder, and clean brass. There was no name on the rigid metal door that led into the room, only an ominous sign that stated:
'Authorized personnel only. Trespassers will be severely dealt with'
Everyone swallowed a lump that they didn't even know had formed in their throat. What kind of person would live like this, in such an amiable environment no less, they wondered.
"Please, stand clear of the door. This is something you needn't concern yourself with," Jacqueline spoke with an eerie calmness that was followed by a heavy sigh, further spooking her guests. They all complied and watched with growing tension as Jacqueline approached the door nonchalantly. Reaching for the handle, she swiftly slid the door aside.
What happened next honestly had to be seen to be believed.
It all happened in the span of a few seconds, and took far longer to process. A string of ear rupturing bangs ruptured through the air, causing everyone around the door to instinctually jump back and raise their hands in defense. Beans bags, or rather mere blurs of red, jetted towards Jacqueline at mach speed, threatening to collide with her fair skin and leave painful welts all over her body.
But with speed, skill, and dexterity unfitting for an accountant, Jacqueline reacted to the attack in a way that made everyone watching do a double take. Beautiful hands with soft skin and expertly manicured nails moved to intercept each bean bag in a calm and methodical manner. It only took a split second, blink and you'll miss it, as each offending projectile was plucked out of the air and harmlessly dropped to the floor.
When the sound had died down, and the smoke cleared, the girls dared to peer beyond the door frame and beheld a crudely constructed trap. Several shotguns of different make and models had been welded onto a metal frame that sat behind the door. Each trigger had been tied off with a string, which had been rigged to the handle of the door. When the door is pulled on, the trap is sprung, and the intruder would be pelted with several bean bags all at once.
One by one, everyone's jaws hit the floor in rapid succession. Jacqueline had effectively caught bullets out of the air in the time it takes someone to think up a single thought. Granted the projectiles were weighted bean bags, they were still fired at point blank range. This was not just a matter of speed. Ruby prided herself on speed, but what Jacqueline had performed was matter of speed and reaction.
Guns, several of them, had gone off a mere four feet right in front of Jacqueline. And yet, with fluid and precise motions that appeared as little more than a slight twitch, she demonstrated to everyone that she wasn't just a regular accountant, she was the accountant.
The eldest of the Arc children, more hero than she appears.
"Unbelievable," Jacqueline muttered, a look of disapproval evident on her face. "I asked her to quit it with the traps, but it appears I'll have to be more thorough this time around." She turned around and faced the girls, who were all still trapped in a shocked stupor. Their mouths remained agape, rising and falling in a fashion similar to a landlocked goldfish. A small smile formed on Jacqueline's lips, and she rolled her eyes at the sight of it all.
"Girls?" she asked.
"Whuah?" Ruby snapped back to reality. "What jus-"
"Come along now," Jacqueline interjected. "I have a few choice words I wish to share with my sister."
Ruby nodded along and helped to bring the rest of her friends back to the waking world. They each muttered to themselves in confusion, snapping to and fro one another before finally coming to their senses. They all witnessed what Jacqueline had done, but there will be a time to talk about it later. For the time being, they followed Jacqueline into the warehouse, wondering just who this fourth sister is.
A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter. Also, modern art is just weird. And not in a good way.