Jaune. Just Jaune.
No last name.
Well, he had one. He wasn't allowed to use it though.
Not when he was on the run.
He had wanted to get away from them for as long as he could remember. His "family". Those who were supposed to be related to him. He didn't understand why he was so different then. Why he felt alone. Why they looked down on him.
Yellow and mellow, they called him. His golden hair and green eyes, soft features and immature look threw people off it seemed. No one liked him for some reason. He didn't understand why people pointed and jeered as he walked or why everyone seemed to be pointing fingers in his direction even when he was hiding but-
Sometimes his mind played tricks on him. Jaune wasn't normal. His family knew it since he was young, but they didn't really understand what it was. There were cases like him, but they were all simply labeled insane and tossed away.
He remembered how hard they tried to cure him of this…
Whatever it is.
But no no, there was no cure. And instead he had to live with this thing, hearing things, talking to people that weren't real, music flowing into his mind from places other than Remnant. Everything was disjointed. Nothing had structure.
Until he discovered fire. Or rather, his fire.
A snowy evening, late at night, he walked to a destination he had come to love.
Blood streaked down his back. He had been struck by a thing. A Grimm, they call them.
Trees all around.
He remembered his princess; his piano in an old cabin. How did he find it? He didn't really remember that at the moment, he was dying. He loved playing it.
He didn't want to die, but it seems like its his only way out. The only way to end his migraine once and for all.
VESSEL.
"Jaune, are you paying attention?"
Jaune blinked.
"Yes."
"You were doing it again. Drifting off."
"I'm sorry."
"You need to focus, son."
"Yes sir."
It had been a couple of years since 'The Incident'. The whole family was shaken up over it, even to this day, worrying constantly about the state of Jaune's mind. They worried because he had so suddenly dropped his dream and became complacent.
He wanted to be a huntsman, his father knew that. His mother knew that. His sisters knew that. The town knew that. But now he didn't want to be one. Why?
Jaune would never answer the question when his father asked him. He wouldn't answer his mother either. He was always the black sheep of his family because of his mental issues, so him being at odds with someone wasn't new. It was the fact that he seemed so…
Normal now. He had quirks when he was growing up, strange things about him. His family noticed, everyone noticed. He would tap on things a lot, hum, and try to recreate the sounds he heard outside.
The people of Anima thought the boy was possessed by a Grimm when he'd go outside and sing with the birds in the morning. He wasn't very good at it, but for some reason no one told him to stop. It was endearing. They saw him trying, enjoying life, dreaming.
He was weak.
Jaune Arc Can't Lift Bark.
Physically, Jaune wasn't up to snuff when compared to the burlier boys around, but that was okay. He didn't really mind. His father did, however, and so did his mother.
Regardless of his weakness he'd still train himself, even when his father officially quit training him due to his lack of ability. That had upset him quite a bit, but he didn't let it get him down. Well, he tried not to. It actually hurt him a lot, but he never told anyone about that. That feeling in his chest, that pain in his neck, that pressure in his head. Instead, he kept walking and doing what everyone told him.
Jaune used to talk to himself a lot. He didn't have many friends, so he would make his own. He didn't see an issue with it, but people thought him crazy, which made his father angry. His son wasn't good at anything yet got into trouble all the time by merely being himself.
His dad punished him quite often, usually with beatings, but the times he simply talked to the blond were much worse. The things he said hurt Jaune more than any belt could, and slowly but surely he learned the power of the spoken word.
All of these behaviors stopped after The Incident.
The town of Anima was attacked by Grimm; strange black flesh entities that mimicked the shapes of animals, people, and objects. These beasts, made entirely of negative energy, existed only to create more negative energy by destroying, killing, and manipulating the world around them. They were not much of a threat on their own, being nothing more than mindless things that copied whatever they deemed useful, but when negativity gathers in the air, they become a threat.
The public is not told much about these things, and most old records of them are lost. For obvious reasons.
Anima, being a relic of the past, is a place naturally surrounded by Grimm. They were mostly tiny rabbit-like creatures and insects, but on the day of The Incident, Beowolves, Grimm in the shape of wild forest wolves, raided the town. It was a great tragedy, and many were displaced. Fortunately most of the people on the southern end of the town didn't get hurt. Unfortunately, however, Jaune wasn't so fortunate.
"Jaune. Focus."
"Yes sir." Jaune replied as he adjusted himself in his chair and looked down at the Beacon Terms and Conditions paper. His father wanted to be sure he had read every inch of it, so he understood everything and didn't accidentally make any mistakes and get kicked out of the academy.
It was the most prestigious academy in the world, after all.
His father couldn't believe it when he passed the aptitude test with a score of 21, higher than anyone else scored in the history of Anima.
The maximum score one can get is a 23, and the test in and of itself has no rubric, no cheat sheet, no set answers, and no way of knowing if anything being asked was meant to be taken in a certain way or not.
The test was delivered to every major town, city, and village all over the world. At the age of 16 students would go to take the test. The test was split into two portions. The first test is a written word test. Scores range from 0 to 23. If a student makes a 20 or higher, they do not need to take the second test, but will still take it for the sake of the staff at Beacon. The second test is simply the first test, but completely wordless. Only the students that take it know of it, and no one else. Its contents remain a secret, and have since its inception. Only those that take the test know what is on it, and if they fail they forget everything. If one passes the aptitude test, they swear in, and cannot reveal the secrets of the test to anyone who was not chosen to take it.
As mentioned before, individuals are chosen to take the test. This choosing is random and sporadic, and often unpredictable. Messengers of Light simply knock on the doors of the chosen. Or they send an email. Whichever works best.
All of this is set up so one can enter the Non-Combatant Courses of Beacon, which focused heavily around the Arts. The Headmasters of Beacon Academy always believed that art was what kept the Grimm at bay and made life worth living, and that art itself was life, and life art. The current Headmaster was no different.
And thus, alongside huntsman and huntresses were the artists of Remnant, healing through creation.
"Did you read all of it?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. I just want to make sure you understand it all… this is a huge opportunity after all- I just- I'm proud of you son, you know that right?"
"Yes sir."
With an ache in his heart, Henry Arc sighed. His son seemed more like robot than a human being after he came out of that forest.
'That damned forest…'
There was a divine comedy to Henry Arc's thought processes and the situation at large, which highlighted his crime. Before The Incident, the patriarch secretly wished to have a 'normal' child. After it, he would give his life to have that smiling boy back. The irony was as painful as it was dramatic.
His mother couldn't bear to look at him without tearing up, to which Jaune always found strange. He never got an answer as to why his parents were acting strange, never even got a hint. His past was locked away behind closed lips and lost memories now. Sometimes, though, sometimes he remembered. In those quiet moments of introspection, the young Arc felt a cold chill run through his soul, an aching pain in his heart, and a deep pressure in his head. Melancholy would immediately overtake his world, the pain of silence sending him to a dark world no one could see.
The worst part of this experience is that Jaune wouldn't remember things vividly, only the feelings associated with the memories. Remembering for him was subconscious.
How do you fight an enemy you can't see?
Arc had found a way. But he only used this method in private.
"Saphron's coming home from work with lunch today. You want anything specific, son?"
Jaune thought for a moment, trying to push past the mental clouds forming in his mind.
"Do uh… can she get tacos?" He asks, his voice shy and uncertain. His father smiles.
"Of course. Come on, lets go outside for a bit. The living room ain't the sunniest place to be."
-/
Jaune made his way down the old paths leading to the open fields of Anima, where the girls of the town would go and plant their annuals for the coming spring.
It was his happy place. He felt calm around nature, at ease, yet for some reason he had to force himself outside. It was like a part of him enjoyed suffering inside where the sunlight didn't shine and the shadows spoke evil verses. Maybe that was exactly the case. Maybe he liked the pain. Or something.
There was a strange type of bird that hung around in the flowers that dotted the fields
The young blond didn't talk much anymore, he preferred to stay quiet and listen. He wasn't entirely sure why that was considered strange to so many people, it was more interesting to listen to the trees than talk to them.
He had ended up leaving his father further down the beaten path than expected, with him getting lost in his head as many would say. It wasn't such a big deal to him, his dad was an adult, he'd catch up sooner or later.
He was the pantaloon, anyhow.
"Son, can you slow down a bit? Your old man ain't as limber as he used to be," his father groaned from lower down the grassy hill that gleamed with different types of dandelions, all different colors. Jaune offered a rare smile, one he could easily blame on the weather, while shaking his head.
"If I walk any slower I'll turn to stone, grandpa," Jaune remarked.
Henry rolled his eyes.
"Har har har, ye bastard. Come on and throw me a bone!"
"So we're dogs now?"
"Gah damnit you li-"
"HENRY! LANGUAGE!"
Both Jaune and his father cringed at the sound of Melissa Arc, part-time matriarch of the Arc family and full-time mother of eight children. They both turned to look to her, their eyebrows raising when they noticed she was more than a few yards away, with two of seven daughters trailing behind her; Saphron and Yulga.
"I honestly can't fathom how she heard me from all the way back there yet seems to magically go deaf when I ask for dinner-"
"I can still here you, Henry. Watch it."
"Ugh. Fine," the elder Arc says, walking down the hill towards his wife.
Melissa throws a glare to Jaune for good measure, to which he simply nods, turning around and following his father. What he was trailing behind him for, he didn't know, but when it came to his mother he knew that it would be wise to shut up and listen. Even if she didn't say anything.
This was his life. It was simple, yet sweet. Although there was an ever increasing weight on his shoulders, the young Arc could sometimes rest, knowing that there was something to hope for, something to do. But what was there to look forward to?
For many, not much. They chose the simple life. Work, eat, sleep, have kids, die. Jaune didn't choose that lifestyle. He chose something far greater, and far harder to achieve;
Bringing a dream to life.
-/
Adam Taurus wasn't having a pleasant evening. At the rate in which things were going with his personal endeavors of finding some sort of meaning to his own pathetic existence, he might as well give up and join the White Fang like Blake did. Become some outspoken champion for faunus rights in a world that didn't seem to care much about you unless you were famous or had some wild, irreplaceable talent.
He could safely say he had neither talent nor fame, both of which Belladonna, his ex... whatever she was, did have. And boy did she have a lot of it.
Considering she came from a family steeped in political ties, wealth, and fame, it made sense for their daughter to be well rounded in the areas that would make the family look good.
Which is why when she started dating him, things went downhill quickly for her reputation, to the point where they cut ties due to his chaotic nature. He couldn't say he blamed her, nor could he say that she was completely correct in just leaving him behind as she ran off to Oum-knows-where. All because he didn't want to help out some human scum that murdered his people.
Adam couldn't see the fault in letting them die. He wasn't the one that put them on that train. It was some White Fang lackey that worked under commander Sienna Khan. Which confused him to no end. Who was he working for? This was their first gig for the Fang and already something wasn't right. If Adam didn't know if he was working for the big man Ghira himself or some cocky second rate commander then why join the movement?
He made his decision that night to never associate with the White Fang. Not because he didn't agree with their philosophy, but because he could see from a mile away that being a part of them in the future would be bad PR with morons like Sienna in charge. Even Ghira, who Adam could begrudgingly admit had a good head on his shoulders, was foolish in the ways of human-faunus relations.
Hugging and saying sorry wouldn't bring back the dead, wouldn't unabuse the abuse, and wouldn't heal the broken. Humans had a lot to answer for, but bringing violence to them would only make things worse, while being too passive would only encourage more unjust behaviour. Adam believed in tough action, but wise counsel to back up that action. Be agressive politically, and not afraid to fight back physically if need be.
With the world under the hands of URSA and the Valeian Circle, there needed to be a group that could stand up in ways no one ever thought of. Adam didn't ever think he'd find one, until one strange day out in the forests near Anima.
He had heard stories of a secretive group that was gathering people together with music called the Banditos, and that their lead man, Clancy, was located there "hiding in plain sight".
Adam expected to find a huge, bearded, burly faunus man with scars and tattoos. What he found was some blond human kid in a small cabin in the middle of the Alberdacil forest, hidden away from view in a clever spot marked with a skeleton sigil. Adam was lucky to have caught it.
"So... is this where I'm supposed to find this "Clancy" person? Are you his kid? Some sort of lackey?" Adam said warily, adjusting his black overcoat, which hid his beloved Wilt closely against his side.
"Ah... heh... uhm, Clancy is me. But you can call me Jaune. Just Jaune. And... er... I need a drummer for my band."