Hey, so! Some minor tweaks here and there:
im using the '/-/' things because it makes my life easier
This is gonna be uploaded right before midnight my time, and I'm fucking hype. It's trippy. Also! I definitely plan on finishing this story soon enough, as I have other things/shorts/whatever I want to freestyle with after this, and personally? I don't think you guys should have to wait several years for a random fanfic to be done. I know how this will end, but the struggle will only be getting myself to write it.
For now, take some more setup stuff, and expect Jaune's new outfit next chapter, also Velvet! And conflict! Maybe.
"Can one of y'all feed me or something? I'm literally dying."
The collective gazes of Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren ogled the skeletal anomaly on their Fearless Leader's bed. More intertwined with the bedsheets if anything, a paradoxically pudgy bundle of big bones looking for sanctuary. Yet, not a single one of them understood the reasoning behind this intrusion in the first place. It's been a solid night's sleep past Jaune's somewhat lackadaisical crowning of Deputy Headmaster, and for one reason or another a skeleton man laid before them.
Ren looked his female companions over, seeing their thoughtful expression-both negative and positive-as a good spring board to speak onto the oddly non-hostile invader calm befuddlement. "I have a plethora of protein heavy consumable goods under my bed chambers. Im Unsure, however, if Jauen would appreciate his second-in-command feeding strange demons upon his bed."
"I second Rennie." Nora pipped in, popping her lips. "You're a fatty, and even though that kinda makes you look weak-sauce, I don't know if Jaune-Jaune would trust you." She glanced at the quiet redhead besides her. "What's your take, P-Money?"
Said P-Money frowned, looking her friend over as well. "Besides our blooming familiarity with one another, you and me in particular, I care little about the current happenstances, also the fat man." There were some groaning skele noises at the insult, but Pyrrha gave not mind to the mindless. "You've made yourself quite a demonic creature too, Nora."
"Oh! I have?"
"Sexually demonic, I would adamantly claim."
"But you like my toys..." Nora whined, Ren's face puckered in enforced neutrality at the conversation quickly going south. "They're huge, probably almost Jaune's size! They also squirt and have pointy prongs for-"
The skeletal man in the back coughed his nonexistent lungs out, earning him the girl's abrupt attention and Ren's low key gratitude. After the interruption, skeletal man dilated his eyes, then exhaled his still non existent lungs out purposefully, almost sickly. "So, as I'm not going to receive any conventional medical aid from you lot, I'd best tell you why a foreign anomaly has coopted your teammate's bed-"
"Our Foreskin Boat Lord's bed-"
"Yes, yes." Those pinpricks dilated at the weirdly firm ninja boy. "Trust me, I've known all about that, Jaune was the one to first tell me of that stupid goddamn dream. I remember it clearly: it involved boats, Pyrrha in underwear, and minors with addictions to Mistiralian pornography."
They blinked at him, befuddled in the most dankly consummated order, skeletal man sighed. "Everyone, I am Jebodiah Brine: the manifestion of Jaune Arc's insecurity and emasculation stemming from his addiction to pornogrpahic imagery, video games, and general solitude. I came into this plain of fuckall being after Jaune consumed highly dank marijuana at Cardin's residence, and I stopped meshing with my...so to speak manifestor just recently."
Pyrrha spoke up first, the connecition to anything Arc related a proper focus point. "You're a spirit then? A being of Jaune's imagination?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you were the one who showed up after the incident with Cardin Winchester, and his confiscated weed?"
"Yeah, I was the existence that yoot the door off the doorframe then chased Jaune down the hall. You know when you found him in the courtyard? I did that." He wheezed, pale-white spittle splurging out a skeletal maw, flecking against bedsheets. "I'm the catalyst of greatness, the great waifu collection process..."
Silence reigned then, the skeleton man content to bathe in his audience's morbidly intrigued attention spans. Pyrrha and Ren not so much, they mused over whatever potential thoughts this skeletal monstrosity could've enacted, or had part in. Nora, however, remained far-too interested in the sickly non-invader for comparison to her comrades. She stepped forward, eyes sparkling with energetic curiosity and mischievous wonder, Ren laid close attetnion. "Mr. skeleton man? Can I call you that?"
Said bone being blinked, then grinned, forehead covered in milky sweat droplets. "My name's-once again-Jebodiah Brine, I gave your leader a woman collecting gaunlet and told him to fuck bitches. I'm the living fevor dream of Jaune Arc's raging insecurity. But," he shrugged, then coughed some more. "Y'all can call me Mr. skeleton man, it's all they'll ever know me as."
"Ooooh," Nora cooed, looking him over. "You're pretty vibe-certified, I think. Which makes sense for a fatty skeletal fatty to help enact womanization." She turned around, toothy grin addressing her quietly frowning partner and not-so-queitly growling Invincible Girl who glared at the skeletal being in confusion. "Your thoughts, team friends? He's the reason Jaune became a man! Don't you think, Pyr?"
The redhead licked her lips, stepping forward in consternation. "I'm baffled, very baffled: was there something within the substance itself that caused you to be a...thing scrounging in my lover's bedsheets? What's the causality?" She's by the bedside now, leaning over, emerald eyes squinted perceptively tight, judgemental of those tiny white pinpricks unrepentant. "You can not tell me that my Jaune's assumed sembalance became you due to his body's reaction to an acid trip, you cannot."
Jebodiah's laugh was waning, a swan song echoing accross an empty hallway then promptly getting cut off as a hungersome hobo murders the swan and feasts on raw bird bones. "I can, actually. Because as you heard-"
"You're the spirit of Jaune Arc, yes?" Ren stepped closer now too, more curious then Pyrrha's open dissatisfaction. "That's a key detail we'd best note for further...well, everything. Jaune doesn't call himself that anymore, and we shouldn't either, he calls himself Jaune D'Arc now." They all nodded at that, recognizing Ren's relative knowledge on all things Arcborne, or really, rational. Nora was energetic and Pyrrha was an adamant follower more so an unquestionable Supereme Foreskin Cult leader. "Whatever the significance in that switch up is? I'd personally wish to know, for my own curiosities sake."
"Ditto!" Nora squeaked, then burped, choosing not to apologize.
Pyrrha glanced at the skeleton again. "I third that notion, perhaps this Jauneward relic here knows the incentives? He did mention the birth of the boating...phenomenon." To her continued unhappiness, Ren and Nora didn't join her abstract distaste on the concept of dedicating yourself to long hours of lounging about a naval creation, reeling in any sea bound creature at random intervals, predictable only by geography or timing, things she so desperately found unenjoyable. "So maybe he knows why Jaune has been separated from him?"
They crowded around the skeleton man, faces more thoughtful then scroll emojis with tiny yellow hands on their tiny yellow faces. Jebodiah sputtered out a retort in their silent expression, fully spooked. Ironic, given his identity inherently being a horror related motif, or just aspect of not being alive anymore. "H-Hey, the fuck, I open my nonexistent heart to yall and you're basically crowding me to death?!"
Jebodiah waited for a retort, but groaned when they simply shrugged at him. "C'mon, I'm literally Jaune, the manifestion of his soul, his sembalance...ish, like what Pyrrha said-"
Nora leaned in, grinning. "I don't know if a fat Mr. Skeleton Man is the best representative of our leader, past or present, can you do something only he'd do, or say?" Pyrrha and Ren flund that good too, nodding their approval to the valkyrie while Jebodiah gaped. "I mean...you're pretty knowledgeable about our situation as is, but-"
The door knob jangled, catching their attentions instantly, reeling them in further when-roughly, as it hit the wall near the doorway violently-one almost naked unit of a man appaeared before them. Black underwear the only thing from showing off a highly apparent bulge, eyes slightly dulled in drowsiness, and brows furrowed at the surrounding said unitarian bastard found himself staked in. His teammates stopped poorly harassing the sickly Mr. Skeleton Man, and instead crowded before their leader, their Jaune D'Arc, starting with a joyous Pyrrha, who rushed to meet him.
They meet, an instant lip lock ensued, while once again, Ren and Nora were forced to awkwardly watch the somewhat sexual undertones of lip-bound copulation occur once more, this time however, with the addition of the preturbed skeleton man along side them, frowning. "Hey, Ren?"
The ninja boy hummed, neutrally seeing the eye sore of Jaune's hardneed flesh mittens grab cheeky handfuls of glorious Pyrhhic tushie meat, much to the woman's utter mumbly satisfaction from within their sloppy mouths intertwining, Nora hummed too, but took the time to instead read the notifications on her scroll for extra time passing purposes. Jebodiah saw Ren turn from the passionate display, and dispassionately stare him down. "Yes, weird skeleton man claiming to be that man over there's sembalance?"
"I was an aspect of it but...Yeah, I know." Jebodiah sighed, distraught on levels quite possibly spiritual. "But I'll explain it as soon as those two stop doing the thing I originally wanted them too, which is fucking trippy, dawg: I've been watching these romance moments through the eyes of the horney Bastard instigating my instigation." From the side of Ren's vision, he idly noted Jaune carrying Pyrrha to her bed, Nora already chilled out on hers. "It's crazy, I caused this, and I'd potentially even enjoy this shit, if it wasn't so problematic and liable to fucking kill me in the next waifu collecting or something."
The ninja boy merely hummed to that, and glanced towards the mentioned Foreskin Man caring for his wooed women numero uno, who giggled gleefully from under his bulky form. Ever the attentive individual, Jaune whispered something tender, getting up from Pyrrha's bed and getting her to laugh quietly into a stray pillow. Nora took that time to cheerfully beam at her leader, headphones already in hand to potentially ignore further politicking-of the boring kind-about to go down with Ren and the Jaune's'. A surprisingly helpful change from the girl who'd seek violence without restraint, if not still on the table given proper incentive. "Hey Jauney!"
Powerful struts marked Jaune's path, not discounting the winning grin he sent Nora's way. "Hey Nora, don't mind us, or this skeleton man right over here." He pointed to Jebodiah, glancing too, only there wasn't any of the same tender care he sent Nora's way, but consternation and bafflement. "He's kinda dumb, and as a changed man, I've gotta tell you all something important." They watched him, Jaune not wavering under their gazes the slightest, but Jebodiah sure did wither under his gaze from Jaune. "This man right here was the reason I have this."
Suddenly, a golden gauntlet, meticulously well done, with several glowing gems-of varying degrees-atop it's crevices. Jaune rapped on it, exhaling any hesitation. "This balanced monstrosity was given as an incentive to be a lady's man, ish. Harem lord more like, and what it does is..." he looked around, raking his teeth against his upper lip. "Y'all won't think I'm crazy, right?-"
"Lover?" Pyrrha hummed, oddly serious for her dreamy rut against her bedsheets, cheeks still somewhat flushed. "I'm highly likely to be crazier for letting you off into the night, assuredly to fuck your cookie loli, yes?"
"...possibly-"
"So it goes to say," she continued, bemused. "That at least one fourth this little barrage of freaks and geeks is not only abnormal but abnormally more so then a man confidently strutting around Beacon in finely tight underwear night and day." Nora nodded to that. Ren frowned, but didn't deny anything. "Speaking on that, why'd you not return? It's daybreak and I'm sure Ruby's teammates didn't allow you a spot along with them?"
Jaune sighed, popped, his lips, then eyeballed the shining world outside. "I snuck in the nurses clinic, with Ruby. They've got cleaning supplies there, so uhm...fuck," he looked to Ren. "I'm hella uncomfortable telling you about my sexual misadventures, bro. Don't know if you wanna shower up to avoid this or?"
"I'm considering it." Ren curtly noted, glancing at the Nora tapping at her scroll happily nearby. "Though I've got to ask, Leader: why not be uncomfortable with Nora fully capable of listening in?" To add onto that, Nora looked up from her scroll, smiling. "See? I'm just curious."
They all heard a begrudged groan slip past Jaune's mouth, and saw him sober up soon after, staring Ren right in the eye. "Because she's Nora, not a bro of Foreskin Gang, and a non-pyrrhic woman-"
"Hella bigoted dawg."
Jaune spun towards The muse-some Brine, as Ren simply shrugged his shoulders, humming a quiet tune all the way to the bathroom. To Pyrrha's intrigue, Nora tip toed after him, not even appearing to fully register Jaune's words right then, or even caring for the most part. "You know what?"
Jebodiah snorted. "What?-"
The bathroom door opened, Pyrrha gasped at the fact both Ren and Nora slipped in, remaining in there still. "You're fucking stupid, and I don't like you."
"I'm right though."
"No, you're fake news." Jaune stressed, pointing at the skeleton, violently precise. "It's gotta be written somewhere, motherfucker, that bro's cannot behold the sound of another bro talking about moving an unconscious minor-partially naked-to the nurses clinic in the dead of night, so that he can shower up and wake her up to bathe, so she doesn't go to bed with a creampied vagina."
"You say that in the most indiscriminately disgusting way possible."
"It's the fucking truth, you absolute boney monstrosity of unintuitive acidic drug use. You're just the big gay for not liking my word choice."
"That's because it's reflective of a unnecessarily angry and provocative mind." The Brine grumbled, pinpricks dilated unhappily, Pyrrha noticed. Watching these two aspects of Jaune-current and past, technically, if she'd curb her enthusiasm and accept Jebodiah-duke it out without restraint. Worrisome like an electric wire rapped around a finger, attempting to administer pleasure to a woman without Aura. "You're hurting, I know it, because I was you. The angst of that shitty Gamer addicted to Grimmcraft-that was covered up by numbing his mind and dumbing down his speech-has been replaced with something far more destructive, yet physically active: you-"
Jaune pointed at himself, more bemused then anything. "Me?-"
"Yes, you. Jaune D'Arc, are the accumulation of a young man bitterly expressing his hormonal imbalances long numbed, in a way that's gonna make you eventually existentially fucked, and unsatisfied with yourself and others."
"Proof?"
"Your word choice, and mental-now physical, mind you-verbal discounting of people around you."
Pyrrha meet Jaune's conflicted gaze, and gave some encouragement. "If it helps, I think you're a wonderful person, Jaune!"
Jebodiah groaned, sitting up from Jaune's bedsheets a bit, getting himself a coughing fit a' goin. "Not saying he isn't, he's highly influential and mindful of those around him, he's just developing...I don't even know, but fuck man, it's unnerving. He was supposed to be a tender, yet soft hearted Harem protagonist who got bitches through his sheer empathy abilities and stuff, not actually atomize the female gender."
"Wait, hold on." Jaune put his hands up, confused. "You're lying somewhere, or just confused, kinda like me when I first came here. What the fuck was the intention of your manifestation? Was it rational?"
"Yes and no."
"Huh?"
"I wanted you to have the impression of needing to be a lady's man," Jebodiah groaned into the sheets, skeletal hands patting his forehead. "But actually turn out as a confident but softhearted guy whose really kinda submissive in all things sexual or otherwise. Like, being the mere result of much more interesting peoples affections, because as a person? I didn't think you were ever capable of individuality, or agency."
"...What."
"I know, it's morbid, but as a person, as Jaune Arc?" Jebodiah came up from the sheets again, swear beading on his forehead. "There's nothing unique about your character besides the relevant lack of what everyone else has. You just sit around and play video games, maybe go to the Snow Angel and show yourself to be tragically heterosexual again, an ignorant laughing post for stronger people." Every sentence sounded sadder, reluctant even. "Perhaps you'd have rely soley on Pyrrha for strength then, as after all, Jaune Arc came here on fake transcripts. Doomed to be nothing more then a self-depreciating fool at the alter of his own laziness and solitude. Only capable of worshipping technicolored women with pointy shooty guns like a good little goiym until he died, nothing more, nothing less."
Pyrrha gaped, Jaune frowned. "That's what you think of me, really?"
Jebodiah glared. "It's what I know of you, matter of fact. You've always been the result of other's hard work, and I-as the manifestion of what you wanted to be-decided that concept should be taken to its logical conclusion: a power up incentivizing a fantasy! Harem time! Big muscles and sexy ladies! Really internalize how things work, and eventually get you laid a bunch. Only it's become less you congenitally ogling at women nervously, and more predatorily, which spooks the fuck outta me because what the hell, my own white lies to myself have literally created a chad." Jaune saw a skeletal finger reach for him, and equally boney maw grimace. "And now I'm dying, as you've killed me, your insecure shell placed on you since conception, and it's fucking insane. Jaune Arc shouldn't be able to defy the anime tiddie'd world around him so haphazardly, he should be gawking at how much better everyone else is, yet here you are." Jebodaih hissed, conflicted, yet observatorily baffled. "Strutting around this fucking school like a goddamn ape, not even a dignified man at this point."
"I thought you wanted this?"
"I wanted you to be powerful, yet not so securely...I don't know." Jebodiah wheezed again, putting his boney digits down. "Don't mind this shit, I'm just...scared, really fucking scared. Because dignified or not? You're troubled somewhere, and I won't be able to help you, that crutch has fallen ill, and is coughing atop your bedsheets right now. I'm gonna die, Jaune, I can feel the specks wishing to return, it's not okay-"
Jaune looked back, seeing Pyrrha hop off her bed, and to his back, rubbing comforting circles across his shoulder. Jebodiah laid against the sheets again, eyes up un-dilated.
With a newfound resolve, Jaune held Pyrrha's hand, and addressed the spirit of Jaune Arc. "It might not be, but this is what I've developed into. I..."
Pyrrha held his hand tighter, the sounds of a shower head in the back nicely dulling their stresses. "I might often be very angry, but I feel strong. Like I'm not the incompetent mistake glued to my monitors and wheelchair. I'm the literal second-in-command for one of four super beast murdering schools, so even if there's some hiccups here and there? I'm fucking winning."
"So," he continued, grinning confidently. "I'll let you be here, and I hope that we come to terms sometime, sorta. There's a ton of things needing done, and I? I'm the means of their production."
A hand was extended to Jebodiah, much to the skeleton's internal strife. "Can we agree to disagree?"
...
...
...
Jebodiah Brine took it, skeletal hand of the past meeting flesh of the future. "Yeah, know what? Fuck it, nothing else to lose. However!" The skeleton's pin prices dilated again, all on the flesh man before him. "I'm still gonna whine about shit until then, because as the last remnants of non-chad you? I think you're oppression incarnate, aight?"
Satisfied, Jaune nodded to the adamant skeletal gremlin, and smiled at his partner behind him. "Aight. And Pyrrha?"
She hummed. "I'm just letting you know: the gauntlet doesn't do anything to but give me other peoples semblances." Nothing but quiet intrigue reached him, so Jaune merely flexed his fingers, continuing on. "It's acquired by a waifu's consumption of my sperm in any capacity. I don't think I'll figure out the limits of that, but it's food for thought all things considered. Do you...uh, have any problems with that?"
Emerald eyes raked the steadily calming skeleton man, seeing him quickly dozing off into assuredly dreamy comfort. In determination, she mimicked her lover's grin at the older iteration of Jaune, confident as The Invincible Girl should be. "I've realized that you're a wonderful man, my love. So I will not fret in sharing you with Ruby, as she's...anything but a threat, I'm staring to note. And at the very least?" She ran a fingernail across Jaune's jawline, gleefully musing. "She's most likely a fantastic flesh-toy in my stead, no?"
Jaune D'Arc blinked, then shrugged. "Sure, lets go with that." He stretched, glancing at the door. "I hope she's doing alright, though."
/-/
His time of absence was meeting a quiet end.
Oobleck found himself pleased, verily. These weeks of home-bound relaxation, treasure it though he did, were unable to really fulfill him. Never could, he was always a man of action down underneath, or more simply, a documenter who enjoys expressing his interests onto others.
So, as celebration of Jaune's hopeful victory in Beacon, Doctor Oobleck enjoyed the time inbetween stressedly leaving Labender's prescience and potential schoolwide suorememcy the old fashioned way: walking down to the nearest bookstore, perhaps to brush-up on his collection back home. History textbooks often get so dull anyways...
Besides, stretching his eye muscles for long durations helps assuage the anxiety underneath, jolted stress electrical underneath the flesh, so to speak. That's why he's strolling along, hand on his thermos, and chipper tune on his tongue. Simple joy expressed for a busy-bodied world, driven by commercial speed. Citizens young or old-mattering little-never taking the simple moment to take in the little things, like the way their untamoered sun shine brightly, or the lack of green cloaked hooligans breathing down their neck. He certainly enjoyed that.
For all the Council Guard's adavanced capabilities, they are still a personal guard, stuck solely in one position of a highly diversified system of government. Governors and mayors and senators and thieves and crooks. All important somehow, yet all corrupt in their own way, as democracy tends to be, Oobelck solemnly understands.
He found one quaint little spot, however, that fit the bill for proper bookstore: Tukson's, whoever that man was. Oobleck stood curious in front the place, eyeballing the simple language above, and considering its validity. After all, surely there'd be other bookstores hanging around, commerce is a double edged sword. People would stack up at the only bookstore in town, right? Doesn't the population read?
Nevermind, Oobleck sighed sadly. His pride told him otherwise, so to counteract the elitism academically ingrained within him, he pushed onwards. Pulling that rustic door open and taking a proper gander into a potentially misjudged domicile.
Dark, relatively. He glanced at the shelves, seeing them suprisngly not unhigentic for the fact that one could reasonably assume the darkness meant closing time. Oobleck cursed himself for his unfettered enthusiasm, how'd he react to someone simply snooping around his classroom for no good reason? Well, actually...he reacted somewhat decently, given the continued existence of Jaune, but that's less to do with his capture of the child, and more the Arc's personal capabilities. As expected.
From the comforts of the fantasy literature section, Oobldck glanced at the front desk, finding one burly man. Hairy forearms and beastly kept hair telling Oobleck-from memory alone-that whoever this man was? Definitely a Faunus. Not that he minded, really. Oobleck meet his eyes. "Evening, sir. You must be Tukson, yes?"
The man blinked, looking him over. Surely finding no sickly intent from some washed up scholar floating around town, Oobleck certianly wouldn't. Oh, this self-deprecation railed against his nerves quite heavily!
He plucked a fantasy book from the shelf as compensation. When the stresses of the day reached a unholy peak, Oobleck enjoyed the more refined things to soothe him. Tales of heros and villains, liberator verses authoritarian. Oobldck smiled fondly, hoping that the bookstore owner frowning at him wouldn't label him an undesirable.
"...Yes, that's me." Tukson immediately cooled down from the uncertainty a second later, chilled from the waist up. A burly knapsack, filled with lightly sweetened chocolates. "This is Tuskson's Booktrade, home to every book under the sun. Please take your time, sir, as I'm in no rush to kick out potential customers."
Oobleck nodded, quieting down, rather awkwardly in his opinion. They were simply filling out their societally prescribed roles of commerce: he was the customer holding a potential buy, and Tukson was the man at the counter making a profit from his enjoyment. Potential enjoyment, but the point is moot. "Will do, I..." he brushed the book over, it's apparently an addition to an already running series, how drool. "I was certain this place was closed, the quiet atmosphere and dim lighting gave me such a profund impression."
"Indeed?"
"Indeed." He liked the man a bit more, intellectualism-from the mouth of a brute, even-was always welcomed in his book. If only Jaune did more of that, he'd be a fine professor himself one day. "It adds to the general...may I say...aesthetic? That's what some of my more memorable students say." Ah, the fondness was upon him again, flashes of a foolish blonde mop parading around Beacon on one mission or another. He remembers the tales, and couldn't help musing over them occasionally. "See, I'm an academic myself, but also a professor."
Tukson looked utterly fascinated, leaning in a bit. "A professor? In what sense?"
Oobleck heard the door quietly open behind him, noticing a two mops of hair shimmy on in without fanfare. One a dark emerald, the other a silvery gray. "Well...I'm a teacher." He didn't wish to flaunt, especially so soon after meeting another smart individual, so he kept it vague. "I teach full-time, history classes. Mostly Valen history, faunus-struggles and the like most certianly including."
Oh, he winced, hoping that last bit didn't trigger something undesirable. Fortunately, Tukson merely hummed, ignoring the implication Oobleck incidentally put down, and addressed the two extra people wandering around now. Hunstman in training, by the looks of them, given their youth. Though...he hasn't seen them before.
Could be due to the foriegn exchange students taking their place for the Vytal Festival, so Oobleck merely waited. Watching the emerald haired girl waltz up to Tukson with a little swagger, unmatched by her partner's, who went off course on a aimless search for written knowledge. The young man leaned on a bookshelf, glancing at Oobleck curiously.
"Howdy," said the boy, lazy drawl crackling on the tongue. "You interested in some, uh, fine literature as well?"
"...Possibly, but..." Oobleck looked the book over, frowning, then show cased the item to the boy. "It is one entry in a very long series, and I haven't got much drive to buy an entire series this precarious moment. Have you any other recommendations?"
The boy gently grabbed the book, frowning at it, a light chuckle cranking out his lips. "Oh, this? Barry Botter and the Borcerer's Bone? Yeah, I've not a fuckin' clue my guy." Oobleck winced at the language, but didn't interrupt. "Best bet for you? Find a completed series cramped into one book, or just read simple shit. Like leaflets or...fuck, hold on." He cleared his throat. "hey Em!"
'Em', the girl currently doing some rather inaudible small talk with the quickly anxiousness-filled Tukson, though Oobleck knew not why- looked over at her companion. Exasperation clearer then the sky, likely that this is a common struggle for the two. "What, you douche?"
The book was held up, shaken around. "This fine gentleman wanted to know about some good books, ya got anything on your mind?" There was a certain...intent behind those words, perhaps the way he said them whilst grinning. A worrying quirk of the lips, something sparkling in those hawkish grey eyes.
And to Oobleck's further concern, Em was catching along, a similarly dark expression of enjoyment across dusked features. "Yeah, I've got a few things here and there..." she glanced at Tukson again, leaning on the desk. Oobleck would've asked the young man besides him for the book back, but he wasn't looking very friendly. A toothy grin almost wolf like across his features, and a slow strut towards him.
Idly, he noticed a grabbing hand at Em's side, a reach for her weapon. "You certianly do too, Mr. Tukson? Or maybe a little bit more, information-wise..."
Tukson glanced at Oobleck, and the fear was immense, imminent. No words were spoken, but in a flash, the dangers-small or not-were apparent to the Historian, so with calm practice, he faced the young man flanking him. Humming throatily. "How unfortunate..."
Oobleck rested a hand on his thermos again, watching Em quickly pull out her own chainly weapon, seeing the boy get into stance before him, and Tukson slinking back like a cornered beast. Quite literally, he imagined. "I've been on paid leave for a month or so, and this is how my last day before work should go?"
"Sorry literature dude." The boy shrugged, hopping from one foot to the other, grinning. "We've got some shit needin' cleaned up around here, and stragglers aren't what our Boss considers exemptions to that uh...obligation, yeah? So don't take it personal, but I'm gonna have to fully turn the lights out in here." Tuskon hopped on his desk, claws bared and growl primal in his throat, Em stood by for battle, Mercury paused at his partially poor metaphor. "Not just for our Faunus friend over there, but old dudes like yourself-"
Oobleck took slight offense to that, as fourty three wasn't all that old in the long run. But that's not why he-in the span of several key seconds-mechashifted his weapon of choice into its hammer form, promptly smashing the young boy into the carpet below. Demolishing his Aura and sending Em into hesitating panic.
Monloguing about your villainy is a surefire way of allowing competent individuals end such malevolence quickly, and Oobleck was one such means to an end. So as he stood over the barely conscious form of the weak-willed boy, Doctor Oobleck gave him an extra little hammer-some love tap, most certainly not taking pleasure in the wheezing groan of misery the boy let out, as well over fifty pounds of metallic Grimm slaying glory came down upon his back.
Tukson grew confident, taking advantage of Em's panicky state to chase her-quite literally-around the room. Oobleck cared little, simply waiting for the perfect opportunity to intervene. Quietly glancing at the unconscious boy below him thoughtfully, a screaming girl knocking bookshelves around whilst a growling Faunus man chased her in the background.
"Perhaps," Oobleck mused, nudging the defeated boy with his foot. "You've something of worth?" More screaming, apparently the boy's name was Mercury, as Em kept screaming It to help her. "Conspiracies are my strong suit, if I were honest ..."
Mercury didn't respond, how unfortunate. But something determined told him no worthwhile response would've pried itself from the foolish assualter's throat anyways. So, Doctor Oobleck of Beacon did what he does best: document the world around him, including Em's countenance, as he joined the hunt alongside his newfound Faunus companion, hammer roaring through to the air. Meeting flesh, meeting success.
He's a simple man, and to that, he's quite happy for this quiet afternoon ending with such a bang. If not literal bang, as Em was launched head first into the nearest bookcase, crawling away, focusing oddly hard on herself.
Maybe Jaune's victory in his absence shall satisfyingly complicate things? Oobleck still hasn't heard from the boy, but oh well...
There's things to be done, and Oobleck intended to finish them. Fire roared from his hammer's outlet.
If he isn't documenting history? He'll make it.
/-/
Yang knew her sister well.
They've lived in the same household for the past decade and a half. Raised by the same lousy father figure and drunk uncle. She knew of Ruby's firsts in every regard: her first somewhat friends, her first training session, her first favorite shows, her first period-
Horror show that was, but it only reinforced the point home, Yang wasnt unfamialr with living around her bubbly little sister. Comfortable? Partially, as Ruby always judged her to some degree whenever Yang hit the local bar for some fun at daddy's expense. Yet never willing to confront her face to face like a true Xiao Long, annoyingly. Still loved the girl half to death, though.
That's why Yang Xiao Long was curious, when Blake told them this morning that Ruby snuck out with Jaune unannounced, and that this little practice potentially occured every night. Which is crazy to her, because Yang-as she schmoozed in Glynda's class with the others-realized how deep those two little shits have gone with their affections.
Also, Ruby might've just lost her virginity before her, so that's totally neat. Defintely, it's not like Yang's bitterness over not finding herself a suitable fuckbuddy annoys her to no end, nooooo. Yang rested atop her clenched fist, staring off into nowhere.
Now that Yang morbidly thinks about it? Ruby dated up, like, really up. Basically bethroed herself to a literal institutional factor of their goddman hunstress school. The money'll pour in by the time they get married in two fucking years or less and Yang will become that cool wine aunt who posts saucy pictures on Remnantgram and owns several cats. Including Blakey, but she'd be more independent maybe.
Honestly, anyone with Foreskin as a part of their title shouldn't become such a goddamn winner in the Beacon society lottery, but here Yang was...gossiping Jaune's praiseful conquest in lieu of it all.
She sighed. He ended up cojoinging her and the rest of their friends into his schoolwide campaign to overthrow the Headmaster, so far adding both her little sister and The Invincible Girl into his list of what Yang would say...zealous followers? If she didn't count the Foreksin Boys and their shenanigans, fucks sake.
A dainty purple colored nail tapped at her side, adamantly. Yang glanced over, finding an equally serious Blakey staring her down. She gave the Faunus a quirked brow, noticing Weiss looking at the entry door suspiciously. "Yes, kitty-kat?"
The nickname got Yang a pleasing sigh of annoyance. "Would you quit mopping, Yang? We've got company," Blake hissed quietly, bemusement worrying the sunny dragon greatly. "All five foot two inches of it. If my sights correct, that is..."
Yang followed her partener's gaze, finding one little sister schmoozing the classroom door open, closing it with a highly silent click of steel against steel. Dressed for success, strangely enough, in her proper Beacon uniform. She must've snuck back into their room after they left, the clever brat. Taking off after her older sister's Shenanigans? Yang shook her head, wishing to've been more discreet with her rebellious streak.
Eh, couldn't be that mad at the girl learning from the best, though Yang was still peeved at, well, that little shimmying strawberry shortcake-flushing in embarrassment at Ice Queen-was deflowed before the super sexy sunny dragon. Insane, Yang noted, leaning forward with an aggrevided sigh, wishing Goodwitch wasn't taking her sweetass time coming along.
"Hey guys!" Ruby squeaked, super quirky, legs rubbing together beneath her combat skirt. She stood hunched before them, flushed cheeks and pointer fingers bopping together. "S-so, hows everyone? Didja...ehehehehe, sleep well...?"
Yang glanced at Blake, who glanced at Weiss, who glared at the sinful little girl with the quirky loli legs. Suddenly, an agreement was made between the sub grouping sisterhood. One where Ruby Rose knew the true meaning of embarrassment. Good, or bad, as in: not telling your teammates that all things considered, you're letting an institutionally empowered charastimaitc foreskin cult leader pound you with his protection less cockhead. Knowing this, the sisterhood all collectively stared at Ruby with deserved scorn.
Weiss coughed, rasing a brow. "We sleep just fine, or...most of us did." She pointed a lithe finger Blake's way, voice a cooled edge of icy pain. "Except our resident Cat Faunus among us, who has informed Team RWBY about their leader's fascinatingly absent presence as of late."
Ruby wasn't nervously shaking from Weiss's scorn, but she sure did when Yang took her swing, voicing a tempered growl. "Muiplte times, apparently. Our leader hasn't bothered to inform us of her sexy time extravaganzas." Yang looked the other girls over, condescendingly curisous. "Wonder if she's doing it on purpose?"
"Entirely plausible," Blake agreed, smugly drinking in Ruby's queit denialist mumblings. "Ruby has proven herself a good little girl for her sempai, has she not?" They all hummed long at that, and Ruby shuddered. But whilst enjoying their verbally-harrass-Ruby time, the short stack squealed at them, accusingly.
With a pointer finger, Ruby Rose condemned them all from her poor stature by the bleachers, to nothing but the tiresomely bemused faces of her teammates. "I didn't say anything 'cuz you guys are jerks! Big meanie faces who make fun of me!"
Weiss hummed, absently checking her nails. "Its not fun per say, more a documentation of reality. A little girl's reailty." Yang was barely containing the giggles at Ruby's mounting unhappiness, Blake snorted quietly beside her. "Here you are, a bonafide leader of trained warriors while being a warrior yourself, yet despite your capacity to murder hellbeasts, you've got the nerves of a child in a candy shop. A meaty one at that."
"Preach it, girl." Yang added, Blake nodded.
Ruby pouted. "Jaune is more then candy, he's a extra thick heavy cream..." she shuddered, only this time, the sisterhood gang noticed the obvious lewdness of it, especially those legs squishing together, as though something highly problematic would drip down otherwise. "Super filling, and when you whip it enough? So very fluffy, you just want it all over your-"
Blake hissed, funnily enough-in Yang's incensed mind-that out of the three perturbed women, Blake blushed the hardest, the smuttress that she was demanded it. "Okay, Ruby, we get it. Just..." she struggled afterwards, unable to find the right words, if any.
Weiss came to the rescue, a voice of reason in these trying times. Yang could hardly believe it, quietly sitting in shock, staring at the logical heriess commenting on the most contrived bullshit the Xiao Long has heard yet. Well, comparatively speaking, as this whole schoolwide experiment they've taken part in is leagues above Ruby's poor behaviour. So like all things in Jaune's soon-to-be Beacon, she'll shrug and hopefully not fug, a silent judgment dragon waiting for other people to fuck up, as she's got her own shit to deal with. A flash of anger flared through, memories of her mother coming to mind. Yang didn't like them, neither the almost comforting vision of Jaune stopping her rampage. She-
"Don't put the welfare of your team after the welfare of your lover?" Weiss sounded almost questioning, but still pretty precise. "We are huntresses first and foremost, not little girls who gawk at tall, blonde, and apparently not-so-scraggly over somewhere." They all nodded along, satisfied, besides a conflicted Ruby. "Do you understand, Dolt?"
It took a little bit, but Ruby stopped eyeing the floor, newfound courage in her youthful features. "Okie dookie! I just want one thing from y'all..."
They listened, but Yang herself winced at the word choice. Something about the way she said it rubbed her the entirely wrong way. "Can you stop treating me like a kid? I did get deflowered last night"- fuck, Yang was cringing-"and I wanna lord that fact over everyone. Respectively, of course!" Ruby lost some of that steam, but kept the determined glare.
"...Welp." Yang groaned, patting the bench beside her, noticeably the only one to speak up. Their other two teammates mulling over the blatant disregard her younger sister had for the sisterhood. A shame to be sure, but there's a reason Yang called her parental figures back home boomers. She's flexible, that's why she gave Ruby the biggest fake happy smile she could. "Sure, sis. Just cool it on expressing your weird sexual fantasies, okay? Blake's a degenerate and Weiss is a squawking victim in the making, we've got much to kinda not say to each other." To Yang's further amusement, the troublesome duo didn't do any thing more then glare at her for spitting the truth.
Ruby nodded, plopping onto the bench in quiet satisfaction. "Sure thing!" She said, relaxing whilst her little feetsies swung back and forth beneath their seats. A little pout was on her face, thoughtful. "Where's Miss Goodwitch, anyways?"
Weiss and Blake were gossiping to each other now, but Yang had no desire to figure out why the two chose to ignore their racial biases again and team-up against people they didn't like. Unless its an unintended consequence of Yang quickly roasted them, becuase if so? She still didn't give a fuck, Ruby got laid and Yang is in a crazy-world of foreskin and violence, even puns felt too far to enjoy, and she loved that stupid shit! "Don't know Rubes, she'll be here soon enough."
That she was, too. As not five minutes later, an almost relatably angered Goodbitch pushed those doors open. The classroom gave her the proper respect, though Yang felt less obligated too, as well as her entire team to be honest. Nothing about the woman-after yesterday's cafeteria wide and above conflict-changed their demeanor with her entry.
Contrary to that, the appearance of one Jaune D'Arc did, followed along by his prepared teammates. Laughing along casually, careless. Mostly not undressed.
She says prepared becuase Jaune was in his goddamn underwear, strutting into the room with a mighty fine swagger. Arms up in causal self-flattery to the unwashed masses, who failed to hide their befuddlement at the toned bastard parading around in black undies and a...cowboy hat? What?
Yang tried hard to ignore Ruby's silent panting, or the keeling moan she made, or the little whisper of 'so thick~'. Becuase-okay, on second thought, Yang took a closer gander, coming to a begrudging consluion aloud. Eyes absolutely fuckall glued to an absolutely smackable set of man cheeks parading itself around. Weiss squawked at him, noticing the mind numbing impossibility as she did, and to Yang's furthermore mounting horror, Blake produced a mixture between a strangled purr and hiss.
She herself gaped, rubbing her eyes, but yet still seeing that ass haulin' itself, heading there way. Weiss shook her head. "How grossly indecent..."
Blake groaned. "I need reverse homosexual conversion therapy, because my body is in huge disagreement with everything else."
Ruby nodded to that, a little droplet of dreamy droll hitting the floor quietly, nobody else but Yang morbidly noting it. "He's gorgeous, you guys, I told you-"
Frustrated, Yang growled to the ceiling, pulling at her precious blonde locks for comfort. Images of toned musculature in ways that Yang was jealous of. She couldn't believe this shit.
"I can't believe this shit." That was meant, her teammates defintely could tell. Seeing the murky mixture of prople and red in her eyes. "No man has any right being that thick."
To her further mental breakdown, Jaune stopped casually flaunting his stupidly distracting dominance, leading his team and Glynda over to them. Much to Ruby's nervous glee, and everyone else around hers' general anxiousnes.
Long, determined, and highly muscle flexing strides marked their Deputy Headmaster's venture on towards them. Twenty feet away, but if Yang closed her eyes hard enough, she'd probably be able to hear the sound of his cheeks clapping themselves every second.
Intriguing, but highly disturbing.
Ruby nudged her shoulder, pouting at Yang's obvious internal strife made manifest. "Yannnnng! Don't embarrass us infront of our Deputy Headmaster." Little shit, she was smug. "He could literally punish us for being bad girls, y'know...~"
Blake and her shared a desperate look, and would've pointedly corrected their lewdite leader for the not-safe-for-work suggestion, but their hot topic came in speaking range, pearly white teeth giving off that winning grin for his peasantry, an entirely profund contrast to the frowning once Deputy Headmistress beside him. A veiny hand tipped his studded black cowboy hat up, Jaune nodded to them.
"Howdy, y'all." He said, Ruby already giggling in delight. "I'm just taking stock of the classes before goin' on a meeting with our...belovedHeadmaster." The way he stalled made Glymda hiss, Yang could barely perceive the madness over the sound of her heart beating in her ears, seeing that horribly unguarded bugle just
...fucking there! "I managed to sneak me a nice hat along the way, Miss Adel doesn't play games when it comes to fashion." He chuckled putting his hat back down again, Ruby-to Yang's peak interval screaming-looked about ready to jump him, or let him jump her. "Velvet helped out too, she's really thankful for yesterday, or just all the days before then. 'Said I look like a mighty fine sonu'va bitch wearin' this."
Jaune frowned to himself, stroking the budding facial-yes, facial hair! On his chin!-to assuage those thoughts surely coming in, ignoring the praising adoration of her sister and Pyrrha, and the mixture between curious bafflement, pure contempt, and chilled enjoyment. The latter being Ren's general outlook, which Nora surprisingly took a bit of a que off of, If not to a lesser extent. "Also that I sound different too, only a teeny bit though. Momma said that my dad probably sounded a lot like this, If I'm able to connect the dots good enough. She said he prounounced things in a nice drawl, and had a kinda jackle-cackle laugh."
Weiss snorted, but the noise wasn't derisive, instead baffled, like Yang's current existence. "What? You're the offspring of a country bumpkin?"
"I dunno, maybe?" Jaune shrugged, "just feels right talkin' this way, for now at least, y'all like it?"
"Yes!" Squeaked Ruby.
"Always..." rumbled Pyrrha
Everyone else? Indecision, so Jaune ignored it, glancing behind his back. "Hey, Cardin!"
The hollered at leader of Team CRDL gulped. "Yes...uhm..." Dove grinned at his side, and the boy groaned miserably. "Yes, 'Boss?'"
Never has Yang seen someone so annoying once before become so dominated, like holy shit, shes just-
"Could ya help round up the rest of the boys today?" Jaune adjusted his hat, eyes locked and loaded with determination on the causal. "We've got some fishing to do, and I'm planning on gettin' that shit done fast and hard." The boys over yonder cheered their agreement, even Cardin.
Yang heard Ruby sigh at the word choice, and subsequently sent a pleading look Weiss's way, who took it in instantly, glaring at their belated cowboy foreskin man. "Mister Arc-"
"Weiss?" He raised a brow.
She huffed. "I'd like to know why you're not wearing any clothes, and I'm sure the massive bulk of us here do too!" Team RWBY-besides its fucking leader-nodded to that, even Glynda quietly joined them! "So, can you explain that one for us?"
...
...
...
Jaune shrugged, giving Pyrrha a tender peck on the lips, gently telling her to take a seat. "I'm gettin' a new outfit soon enough, and besides?" He tapped the hat, grinning real big, Yang wished she hated it. "I like this look right now. Until then, I figured to enjoy this one, it's like..." he popped his lips, hands waving around in intense physical explanation. "Them fifties Cardin gave were called Escape From Ram Ranch or some shit, so I'm thinkin' 'eh, why not name it after it?' the subject matters pretty similar, all things considered...or used to be."
They had no comment, just exasperation, especially Weiss, and her.
Jaune shrugged, then sighed. The rest of Team JNPR joined them, and their blonde leader quietly walked up to a joyfully fidgety Ruby. "Matters little though, I think I'm havin' too much fun with this thing for an at least somewhat professional talk. Sooo... " He took it off, blonde locks rougeishly frazzled. The tender smile he gave her little sister doing terrible things for Yang's blood pressure. "I figure you'd make some good use of it in my stead, ya know?"
Ruby-hands shaking, expression enormously flattered-grabbed the cowboy hat tight, looking up at her boyfriend. Eyes shining brighter then the blazing sun, or Yang's hairline in the next fifteen seconds. "You want me to wear this...?" She shouldn't be so excited for a goddamn hate, Yang notes, but apparently that's their reality, and as several sets of eyes watched the enamored Rose nearly fucking sob at a cowboy country blumpkin hat, Jaune leaned in, grinning ear to ear
"Mhm." He said, reaching out, thoughtfully rubbing at Ruby's pale jawline. Pyrrha-to Yang's astonishment-completely okay with all of this, even smiling at the tender touch, if not lightly. "Pyr isn't one for hats, and you'd look even cuter with a funny hat on, I'd think. And ya know, you'd then be my Pretty Cowgirl with it on."
Quietly, her, Blake, Weiss, and still Miss Goodbitch expressed audible dissatisfaction at the lovey dovey expression, much the opposite of JNPR's general happiness. Ruby more then anyone else, as Yang watched her gasp, eyes glossy. "You like it?" Jaune asked, frowning lightly. "I know it's not necessarily matching your style, the black and red stuff. I'd be okay if you just straight up wanted to give it back-"
Ruby out it on tight, beaming brightly up from her dark covering. "I love it, Jaune." She sat up, hands childishly grabbing outwards, towards comfort, Yang annoyedly noted, towards her boyfriend. "Can you hold me, please?" She's such a brat, ugh! With her big ol' cowgirl hat and-
Her sister was embraced, Jaune completely engulfing her in a full body hug without care for outside input. When they separated, Ruby hopped up on her tip toes for an extra lip lock, forcing the others to spend a solid thirty seconds watching her little body get smushed and dominated under this goddamn bastards veiny might. Yang had to pinch herself several times, looking around the room.
People were staring, but nobody did shit! This wasn't cash money! Yang didn't want her day being so non off with a Yangish! She grumbled into er hands, almost empathizing with her dead-beat mother just then. Jaune gently let the panting mess of a girl go, walking towards Pyrrha, giving her a smooch too. Done with his current collected tribute makers, Jaune D'Arc looked his companions over.
"Everyone?" He asked, smiling lightly, hands on his hips. "I wish you all a good day, I'm off to get debriefed on my duties." He glanced at Goodbitch, whose honestly been giving him the stink eye the entire time. "Oh, and Four eyes?" The smugness was real, and Yang found herself empathizing even with the dominatrix right then, who growled at the man. "Can you do me a favor?"
"No, Jaune-"
"That's Deputy Arc, or Mister Arc to you, woman." He chuckled, smugly raking in her silent seething. "Now I'd love to stay and chat, everyone..." he's walking off now, ignoring the little growls and groans Goodwitch could hardly breath out her clenched teeth, staring the man's broad back down like the rest of them. "But I'm needed elsewhere, like a true person of apparent significance would be! So, without further ado..."
He walked to the door, opening it gently, slipping out. Not before he gave them all a courtesy Arc grin. "I'm bouta head out, see y'all in a bit." Then, just like that, Yang couldn't internalize the clap of his ass cheeks in her mind. Incredibly fortunate, as even the echoes of that horribly glorious sphincter made her want to run away from home and start a bandit tribe to spite her current lover, like a true piece of shit would've done.
Quietly, Goodwitch walked to her podium, and like nothing happened-except for the fact she herself looked completely miffed in every regard-things progressed again. Their teams fought, people learned, and Ruby beat up Cardin wearing the sexy cowgirl hat. As Yang watched the bully turned potential beta male crumbled before her chipper sister, holding Crescent Rose up high, pale features in dazzled enjoyment under a stupidly good looking cowgirl hat?
It fucked Yang up pretty good, making her realize that just the night before, Jaune...yeah, fuck. She's not feeling yangry right now, she's feeling yangess, and Weiss noticed it, giving her an empathic pat on the shoulder, sigh more a squawk then anything.
"I know, Xiao Long." The Ice Queen mumbled, seeing Ruby skip back over to them, jittery hands lovingly caressing the cowgirl hat stupidly good looking on her. "She'll...no, we'll come to terms with it, somehow."
Yang sorely doubted that, but she didn't know. Blake's thoughtful calm helped quite a bit though, and she made good use of it while the case continued on. Even when Ruby nonstop basically prayed to the alter of Jaune for the rest of the class, teaching them a lot, far too much.
Men, after all, don't usually have penises in the double digit inches, yikes. The fact Ruby took the time this morning to measure is the true mindfuck though.
Literally, ugh.
/-/
The elevator opened, Jaune wasted no time lolly gagging at the surroundings this time.
Ozpin lounged at his desk, not surprisingly. Nothing ever really changes in the world of Beacon, Jaune was sure of it. This institution somehow-in the highly confident Arc's mind-remained consistent in its quality and general stature that way, all thanks to this old coop wasting the hours away, twiddling his little press pen and complaining about the disloyalty of Arc heritage. That's what Jaune has internalized these hectic months.
But things might be taking a less conventual path, where Ozpin stops disappointing Jaune, perhaps making amends somewhere down the line. It's what's been claimed, requiring a rather violently stupid duel of violence and near death. But the potentiality wasn't missing, neither none existent. Thus, Jaune D'Arc strut forward, barren body flexing with the slightest step.
The whole crazy shebang Jaune has experienced with this man told him one thing, as he watched Ozpin watch him, eyes perceptively attentive onto one youthful subverter, physically opening himself up to these agreements made handfistedly strong. Jaune did get brutally taken down to do this, after all, so there's little the current subverter could do to directly overthrow Ozpin.
So for now? He stood in-front of Ozpin, patiently quiet, somewhat incidentally mimicking the very man he's here to see. A million things tickled the mind, potential responsibility or curiosities alike, but Jaune started from the basics, clearing his throat. "Ozpin?"
He heard humming, seeing the old man take that pen. Tapping it to the desk by its butted end, one hand quietly pushing his reading glasses in, the other rhythmically keeping a intentional pace. Every...two point five seconds it hit the desk, ringing out just barely loud enough to grace Jaune's ears from their ten foot difference. Noise was sparse here, so he couldn't tell himself it wasn't sensibly quiet sounding.
Jaune refocused himself though, idly wondering-in the back of his mind-if the obviously precise movements of the pen were intentional diversion tactics, or potential evidence Opzin has extreme OCD that prevents him from non-normal pen tapping. "Ozpin, I'd like to know my full duties as a Deputy Headmaster, the responsibilities and the like."
"Oh."
"You've most certainly have some for me, yeah?" He scratched his muscled stomach, grunting. "Glynda couldn't have acted so shitty because she's that much a horrible person, I'd guesstimate the paperwork wasn't helping matters much either." A grin bloomed, he didn't see on Ozpin's face, however, only concentrated displeasure, or neutrality. "There's a catch to all power, after all."
"...Well..." Ozpin put the pen down, adjusting himself accordingly, leaning back into the seat and beckoning Jaune over. "Let's get the hard notched material out the way first, then we'll casually converse in matters pertaining to your...sembalance, as my curiosity isn't satirized enough as is. I'm assuming you're of an agreeable state of mind for that?"
Jaune sat on the chair, leaning back as well, frowning. "Yes, relatively-"
"And might I add?" He pulled out an emerald outside case themed scroll, waggling it about. "It's been little more then an entire day with you officially my second in command, yet you've taken yourself so highly as to show your barren flesh to your superior. Flagrantly showcasing for the world to see, and see they have..." he looked a weird mixture between smug and annoyed, slamming the scroll down desk-ward with a unhappy flourish. "Glynda has already informed me of rumors, pertaining to one Deputy Headmaster Arc showing undue flesh to the masses, causally flexing muscles and hugging random students freely. Social media ventures showing equal interest, there's even those...hashtags going around, you know of them?"
Blinking, he answered with honesty. "Not really. I don't use a majority of social media, but I know that thingy is about labeling topics of interest, but what's your point, Ozpin?"
"My point," Ozpin stressed, spinning his chair side to side. "Is that you're highly immature from the get-go, or perhaps not even that, but purposefully distrustful to all peace making mannerisms I developed. Just...why the under garments?"
Jaune smirked. "I've little care for opinion, I think." To prove it, Jaune preformed some quick flexes in his seat, shoulders throbbing with well deserved musculature. For added bonus, he never moved eye contact from those veiny brown orbs, one of the handful of things this old bastard taught him about himself. If he's to at least develop into dominance, he's gotta give credit to the devil, and subvert what works with what the original methodology didn't want to incorporate. Thus he's here, and thus he's testing Ozpin's patience. "I'm what my may-may vernacular has labeled 'Chad-like', or more accurately-if you ask the previous manifestation of my semblance-a Harem protagonist."
"Ah, I see." Ozpin hummed, but still frowned, nowhere near the size of Jaune's own, which held hints of conspiratorial curiosity. "But, if you're trying to trick me into mispronouncing meme, then you'd best curb your enthusiasm, your Headmaster isn't a fool, boy. No more then you are, anyways..."
There was a wistfulness there, but Jaune brushed that aside, focusing in on that one little abnormality. "I have to know, Ozpin." He licked his lips, brows furrowed. "Do you watch anime?"
...
...
Ozpin reaches for his mug, taking a sip of whatever wasn't vacated within, and deadpanned at him. "In a sense, I suppose. As unlike you, child, I've been training for a huntsman's prowess the last fifty years of my life current, if not longer." Jaune felt annoyed at the petty jab, but let Ozpin rant on further. "However, these days I've found time to enjoy the small things, and ponder..."
"...About?-"
"Let me ask you," he leaned up from his comfy chair, something flashing behind those spectacles. "What's an insecure boy's dream? Or, any young man in actuality, at least of the heterosexual kind. I implore you to tell me so, as I," with personality Jaune's finding more and more apparent after each scholarly encounter, Ozpin pointed a lightly wrinkled finger at himself. "Am the dreadfully disconnected boomer you've so demonized. So, do enlighten me, young man. Be the voice for all generation z individuals, right here and now! Even if they can't hear you."
This was fun, Jaune chuckled lightly at the causal atmosphere Ozpin steadily accepted this crazy scenario as. In response, the semi-subverter complied swimmingly, leaning an elbow on the chair's arm holders, or whatever the hell they're called. "You're the voice for all boomers then, yeah?"
"Only the ones without death or dementia, I'd securely muse."
"Problematic view of the world, old man."
"You're in my office in tidy-wideys, pretending that you're a seriously mature individual, worthy of more then immediate expulsion."
"I've proven myself a highly capable fighter, ya don't think?"
"Matters little, as in lieu of power struggle, you'll strangle me for whatever remains of my kingdom." Ozpin cleared his throat. "But let's not lose track of our previous talking point, so do answer me."
He did, firstly taking a deep breath. Recounting the-if not loosely-connecting trains of thought inside his overloaded skull. Desires, excitements, hopes, dreams, angers, all of it bubbling at the surface, yet held back as of now. "So, to answer the question of why young dudes like harems? Which, I really wanna know why you have any fuckin' clue about?"
Ozpin paused, yet nodded. "I'd do without the language or unrestricted attitude, but I'll tell you this: If It'd help recolonize Mountain Glenn and the western front? Then I'd shove you into the nearest mechanical super suit Atlas surely conjures in their spare time. And as you're not a whiny child-quite the opposite, which might even be worse-you'd fortunately have little force present to make sure you stay in the assigned robotic vehicle, Jaune."
...
"Ah, I see you're a man of culture as well."
A weathered old sigh, an old man's suffering made apparent. "Just answer the question, Arc."
"Right." Jaune cleared his throat, rubbing his hands together in thought. "So, from my experience? From the ages of let's say..." he hummed lightly, waving his fingers around. "Nine to now? I've always lived my life with some sorta scroll product in my hands. You name it: Scrollpods, Scrollpads, holoscreen computers, fuckall anything connecting a developing mind to the broader world unrestricted and unregulated. It's why I eventually found an interest in video games, or just technological media in general."
"That's why you've failed to properly come into Beacon then?"
"Partially, I guess?" He scratched his head, embarrassment coming in droves. "Not all or even most I think, video games were just a...pastime, just something I could use to distract myself from my dully unsocial life. I can make things in video games, or even make online friends, or join-fuckin' I don't know-groups and stuff. Play some Duty of Call or something, when it was good, at least..."
Ozpin frowned, not familiar with stuff most likely. "So then...why. Why'd you falsify transcripts and sneak into Beacon? What's the incentive behind your actions? Who are you, in your own words?"
...
...
"This is the type of shit you'd find on a Roe Jogan podcast, you realize that, old man?"
"...It's entirely possible-"
"Fuck off."
Ozpin ignored the insult, pointing a finger up in the universal waiting sigh. He himself leaned down into his desk, pulling out-to Jaune's ultimate shock-Cardin's old alien bong. It thunked against the desktop loudly, and Ozpin cracked a guilty grin. "If you really need encouragement...?"
Baffled, Jaune glared at the old bastard disapprovingly. "No, I don't. Why the fuck you even have that?"
"Safe keeping. For potential usage when my bottled-in depressive symptoms are liable to kill me in my sleep."
"You say that in the most disgustingly honest way imaginable."
"We've much in common then, Arc, more then you'd yet know..."
Jaune shook his head violently, not wanting to sit here and watch Ozpin lazily droop over a goddamn marijuana bong, he choose instead to finish his train of thought. "So, if I'm being honest, Ozpin? I'd say that video games were a symptom if an unhappy lifestyle, or at least the overconsumption of them. Like..." he gulped, frowning. "My mother always tried her best to raise me and my sisters, but often I'd be forced to rely on either myself or said sisters for everything. She works as a registered nurse full-time and...most of my sisters are older."
Holding his hands in his lap, Jaune quietly continued. "I had a pretty good childhood, I think. My sisters babied me a lot, put me in funny dresses and taught me how to cook some stuff here and there. Very...feminine, and strictly so. My father died fourteen years ago, and...-"
"Jaune?" Ozpin butted in, oddly...tender...? "How well did you know him? Do you know of him?"
Ah, fuck, Jaune was cringin' now. "Not very well, but besides the point, sorta." He gulped again, half-tempted to ask about the weird sympathy in the old man's eyes, he didn't understand it. "I just sometimes think that, uhm, maybe if I...ya know, knew the guy, I'd learn things about being a man. Like, just general stuff really...confidence, or even courage or...what would be the properly masculine reaction to stress? I don't think my sisters really covered that stuff, at least not effectively...? It never stuck, only the cuddliness."
"But what'd be the Beacon incentive?"
"Uhm...I'd probably say dreams, grand ones. Mom told me my father was a powerful huntsman, and that he was one of a long line of heroes who protected the world from the evils outside our borders." He lightened up again, back on track. "So I guess I latched onto that, the remnants of what I'd guess help me know the man who helped make me. And since I'm not very much able to work-or used to be-I faked my way in, hoping to perhaps learn as I go. Fake it till I make it, or so Saph always said."
"But anyways: I think that harems and stuff come from a place of lack, ya know?" Jaune tapped his noggin, light grin on his face. "Most guys can't really get harems, as only the...highest on the dominance hierarchy ever get more then one woman. But the idea that you're desirable enough for multiple mates? Hella comforting to the ego, dawg. It's why I used to watch tons of anime, it does something similar in general, or amplifies something that I value." Jaune licked his lips, frowning at the old man deep in thought before him. "So now that you know, boomer, what's the meaning behind these questions?"
Ozpin hummed, tapping Cardin's confiscated alien bong thoughtfully. "In terms of paperwork? I'll have you and Glynda share responsibilities, or simply have Glynda introduces you into the role slowly. You'll be the pretty face beside me right now, until I properly help train you both physically and mentally. There's little else I envision you doing besides that, as the whole role of deputy isn't anything more then educational fecal matter. No, Arc, I have something else besides paperwork that I wish you and I worked on."
"...That being?"
The pen was grabbed, then pointed. Ozpin looking highly un-amused. "Your gauntlet, what does it do again?"
Jaune sighed, staring at the man unhappily. "It gives me the semblance of the women I've had consume my spermatozoid thingies. So far?" He manifested it, showing off the triple soul gem tirade he's collected so far, at least mostly. "I've slept with Rubes and Pyr, while Velvet seems somewhat flirty with me? I don't how women work, and I don't think Jebodiah does either?"
"Jebodiah?"
"He's like psychological me but fat and stupid."
"Huh, dully noted. " Ozpin blinked. "So the bigger your...sexually active harem grows, the more semblances you have at your beck and call?"
Jaune nodded, half tempted to use Ruby's speedy shit, but instead casually levitated random stuffs over to him, including Ozpin's pen, enjoying the quiet perturb that caused the old man. "Yeah, I guess...but still, what's your point?"
Ozpin ran a hand through his olden locks, much like Jaune does under stress, weirdly so. "You need to make sure this...harem power isn't somehow used for improper behavior, non-consenting use-and before you yell!" Ozpin yelled, seeing the annoyance on Jaune's face. "I will simply tell you that I am highly sure you'd never do something so horribly immoral, so please settle down."
Slowly, he did, floating Ozpin his pen back, who himself sighed. "I want to help you, perhaps...perhaps I'll show you some things here or there about emotional control, or personality, as that's the huge factor of the soul and semblance." Suddenly, that warping green energy flew over Ozpin's form steadily, protectively. "You'll not help goodness when you're so...disenfranchised, so to speak. Me and you will work on this, and also?"
"...?"
"Would you be comfortable if Glynda..." Ozpin looked incensed at saying it, but he breathed it out nonetheless. "If she aided in your... boating business? Sped up the process and helped deliver you catches at faster rates? The markets absolutely adore Forever Falls salmon, they have a nicely reddish color that tastes very good."
Jaune though on it, and honestly? For the sake of the woman's misery, he nodded. "Yeah, I'll work her hard, that'll keep her occupied, no?"
Nodding too, Ozpin moved on, or Jaune assumed he planned to, as nothing but silence reigned.
...
...
...
"Well, Jaune?"
"-Oh, uh, yeah?"
"You may go now, we've got little to talk about." Ozpin patted the bong fondly, a little smile on his face. "Unless you wish to consider things the more unorthodox ways? I've yet to really try this, and I'd feel much more comfortable consuming the substance with a compan-"
Jaune shook his head, standing up for his seat. Turning his back to the old fool and heading for the elevator. A million unsolved things were still on his mind, but the fact of Ozpin's ridiculousness sometimes wasn't one of them. He'd do some paperwork, talk to the old man, and sure enough, he'd soon schmooze himself into competence, and maybe he might metaphorically strangle Ozpin out of his position. Depends on how this anger inside his gut manifests, if he even lets it. Things tend to feel better after he makes love to his girlfriends, and as a chad? He's got that option on standby, or almost, since he's not gonna push his lovers to...well...make love if they didn't want to. Respecting women and all that.
Pressing the button, he waited for the elevator's opening. But, his anterior diverted, as Ozpin coughed from behind.
The old man looked...sad, those veiny brown eyes never seemed weaker, or weirder in their tenderness. It confused the living fuck out of him, and made Jaune pause, frowning at his Headmaster. "...Yes, Ozpin?"
...
...
...
...
A long, troubled, tiresome sigh, from an even more tiresome old man befitting his age, stress lines even seeable from here. "His name was Joseph. Joseph D'Arc. For what it's worth? He was a good man, one of the best I've been blessed to know..."
The elevator opened, and Jaune nodded, suddenly...lost in thought...
But he entered the elevator anyways, giving his Headmaster a rueful smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it."
Before Ozpin could hurriedly comment further, the elevator closed, leaving the Arc to his thoughts, anger, and morbid curiosity.
Mostly the former, but hey, at least there's stuff to do now. He'll just need a new outfit now, as Ruby sent him at least five messages begging him to let her keep the cowgirl hat in exchange for, uhmmmm...stuff.
Pyrrha concurred with that too, as they were a part of a three person group chat. Velvet herself-as he had her number-asked about it too, in more dodger terms though...not that he was complaining, perhaps she'd like to hang out sometime?
In a weird way, he felt the gauntlet humming along to that idea, and Jaune frowned, thoughtfully more so then anything.
Despite the hang ups, Jaune D'Arc found his life quite good as of late. So, he slowly put a smile on that mopey face of his, and vowed to try his best.
Whatever the hell that might be.