Ohho! Another Chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY

Chapter 4: Yellow

Smoke rose into the night sky, like great pillars reaching for the heavens. The shattered moon of Remnant glimmered down upon the great city of Vale. Small restaurants were open, inviting young couples and groups of friends together for late night dinners and drinks. Laughter was heard echoing between streets and alleyways, bouncing off walls and concrete roads. Dust shops rang softly as money funneled in from aspiring huntsmen to veteran mercenaries.

But that was the beautiful, tourist attracting Vale proper. The streets winded about, leaving the safety of the great shipping docks. Drifting further and further away from Beacon cliff and the Valean Council building in the center of the city; lights turned dim and neon signs of a light red glowed in the alleyways and unprotected streets. Gangs walked about, smoking their cigarettes and cigars, weapons in hand and sheathed against their waists.

A man walked these very streets, black hoodie over his body matched with black pants and black combat boots. He walked past gang after gang, they were none the wiser. While his aura wasn't completely unlocked, the semblances he'd absorbed remained within him and activated regardless. The semblance didn't feed off of Aura; instead it fed off of his physical strength. Strangely enough; no sibling of his, nor his father offered to unlock his aura – not like he asked or anything. There was only one person he wanted to do it. Sadly, she was probably still in Mistral on an airship to Vale.

Regardless of his thoughts; the semblance worked perfectly, hiding him from view of man and beast. Walking by more gangsters, the ragged clothes and dirty oversized hand-me-downs were replaced. The dirty, broken streets were replaced with pristine and well-kept streets. The gangsters, scraggly and foolish were outdated and men wearing suits and actual armor for some, patrolled this side of Vale's underworld.

In lit alleys, illegal betting and chicken fights can be heard. Men shouted and cried out in defeat when their brave chicken warrior died. Lien and insults were thrown back and forth with the syndicates watching with careful eyes. Let the fools indulge themselves – don't let property break. The man continued on his path, ignoring the gangsters and passerby men and women. Prostitutes and thrill seekers laid out against buildings with dull looks on their faces was a common scene.

While he won't say he was new to the Red-Light districts of Vale, he will say he doesn't particularly enjoy them. But along the way, a scuffle was heard. He immediately halted and ran up to one of the few darkened alleys to find a man getting his face beaten in. Around him, almost five different men bearing animal features ganged up on him. Lead pipes and steel rods in their hands, beating the man senselessly. He begged, cried out and even gave reasons but Jaune didn't care.

A group of people, men and women alike left a brightly lit casino and converged on his sidewalk, ignoring the Faunus on the verge of killing someone. Without thinking; he ceased the semblance hiding him from plain sight and suddenly appeared. Women and men, both high and drunk jumped, screaming in terror at his arrival. Hood still drawn over his head, he took off into the alleyway, fists clenched and bracers armed beneath his hoodie sleeves.

Smashing his fist into the firs Faunus in his way, the man fell forward, gripping the back of head. When he turned to face his assailant, Jaune felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. The Faunus wore the Grimm masks of the White Fang.

Jaune quickly dodged an incoming kick, letting it collide with the wall beside him. Taking advantage, he kicked the left leg out from under the Faunus. The man fell with a cry, only to be avenged by another. This Faunus had brass knuckles bejeweled in spikes. Shooting his arms together, Jaune caught the attack between his bracers, almost stretching the fabric of his sweater sleeves. He jumped back, taking the Faunus with him, tripping him over his friend still on the ground.

Using the strength he'd retrained for, he flipped the White Fang operative to face his back to the growing crowd in the street. Jumping, his foot shot forward, the soles of the boot connecting so hard, dust and debris that gathered on the Faunus's clothing actually blasted off. The man flew back, mask falling from his face to reveal two horns that slowly began to protrude from his forehead. Thankfully, he was unconscious.

Turning his attention to the remaining Faunus, Jaune send a wide roundhouse kick, digging his foot into the recuperated Faunus. He tripped over his weight, slowly losing balance. But before he could fall, the Arc grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and pulled the Faunus toward him. Sending his knee with as much power as he had during his training spar, he broke through the operative's aura, sparking and severing his shield. As the man began to collapse onto his shoulder, he flipped the man around, shoving him into a wall. Once the man's head met the bricks, without aura to protect him, he was immediately knocked unconscious.

Barely a minute had passed and he'd already taken two down. Jaune smirked to himself, feeling mighty confident in his abilities. Now that almost two months passed, he was in Vale early, much to the behest of his parents and siblings. He had some things to do; some people to meet and most importantly, some reconnaissance to conduct. Cinder was on the move somewhere and he was going to do absolutely everything he can to find her. But that didn't mean he couldn't beat some White Fang operatives into the dirt before doing so.

He quickly dodged an incoming swipe with a lead pipe. Just as it passed his head, he shot his hands out once again, catching this Faunus by surprise. Boxing the Faunus's arm in a lock, he slid his arm along the length of the appendage, just stopping at the lead pipe held with a vice-like grip. His blue eyes narrowed at the other two Faunus, slowly drawing out their firearms and handguns. Tightening his hold on the Faunus, he moved and forced his prisoner to move with him, forcing those behind to reevaluate their strategy multiple times.

Of course, the Faunus tried to fight back, sending kick after kick and even tried to overpower the Arc but every attempt was met with a counter or even worse, retaliation. With each attempt, Jaune grew more amused and more confident. Once the remaining White Fang dropped their firearms and replaced their weapons with swords, he cackled with excitement.

Yanking the lead pipe from the Faunus's hand, he took the weapon for himself and smashed the pipe into the operative's forehead. The power behind the strike was so great, it not only shattered the Grimm mask and aura, but it also cracked his skull beneath. He had deer ears, hidden by his White Fang hood. As blood began to pool at the point of impact, Jaune hurled the lead pipe with wind whistling in its wake. Without much surprise, the pipe was deflected, spinning and away before lodging into the brick wall to his left.

"Who are you?!" One of the remaining Faunus cried. "Do you even know who we are?!"

"White Fang." Jaune glared beneath his hood. "You're degenerate scum that want nothing but power. You don't care for Humankind or Faunus kind. Don't kid yourselves."

"How dare you?!" The White Fang operative roared. "This man was demonizing my people, extorting my people! What would you know, human?! You don't know what it's like to lose everything to your worst enemy!"

Jaune looked up, blue eyes slowly bleeding to a dark demonic red. "That's where you're wrong."

With a flick of his wrist, a beautiful white sheath shot from his left sweater sleeve. With agility and speed unlike any other, his right hand caught the sheath by the sword within. Clasping the sheath to his left forearm, he drew the blade revealing its radiant beauty. Even in the darkness of the alleyway and the soft light of Remnant's shattered moon, Crocea Mors glowed relentlessly.

The blade was a standard broadsword, slightly longer than it was originally. The fuller of the blade was filled in with bronze inlets tapering to a point in the center of the blade on either side. The crossguard was made of bronze and gold, sharp and pointing towards the blade. The handle was thicker with a more ornate gold and bronze pommel. The shield was broader, thicker and received a similar upgrade. A gold-bronze mix, outlining the shield and at the bottom, an ornate design represented something that he dared not tell anyone yet.

"You like it?" Jaune smiled. "It's called Crocea Mors. In other words, Yellow Death!"

Using the borrowed semblance once again, people gasped when he suddenly disappeared. Two dead White Fang operatives and three unconscious ones were all that remained of that fight. The man they had beaten disappeared at the onset of the vicious bout. None of that mattered – the people, too high and drunk to give a damn moved along, letting the cops flood the area with flashlights and blaring sirens.

He slipped past the cops and robots, even grabbing a couple ID's and wallets just in case. Being who he was, he didn't want to walk around toting his own money. Why not let other people steal money he stole from someone else? Continuing along, the number of syndicate gangsters grew to almost suffocating size. Each one wore black suits but their ties differed in color, denoting which syndicate they belonged to; almost ridiculous if you asked Jaune. He relented of course, being quickly reminded that he himself is a – by all intents and purposes – a noble of Vale. Syndicates were no different from the noble families of Vale.

With a sigh, the blue ties disappeared, being replaced by men with red ties and even red shades. At night. He looked up and found that this was the location. Junior's.

Walking to the front door, a brawny gangster put a hand to his shoulder and gave him a stern look through those crimson lensed shades. He pulled out his wallet and drew out his ID; Jaune Arc, seventeen and a Huntsman-in-training. Jaune swiftly removed his hood, revealing the same disheveled blond hair in the picture and sapphire blue eyes that were hard to miss. The gangster handed the Arc his ID and grunted approval.

The doors were subsequently opened, revealing beaming lights and the intense smell of alcohol and smoke. The strobe lights moved quickly, blinking in and out before shooting over once again. The club was shaking, dancing and screaming loud with music and adult fun. He walked by, eyeing the various individuals partaking in alcohol and small doses of drugs. Across the way, the dance club was almost completely occupied. Smirking to himself, there was a reason he came on this day. Looking down at his scroll, he was right on schedule.

"Hey, can I speak to Junior?" The Arc walked up to the bar. Speaking with a tone of curiosity that lacked the timid undertones. "It's important."

The man at the bar gave him a look through the shades he wore. Jaune knew exactly what the man was thinking but shrugged anyway. He remembered a certain dragon and a story she loved to tell in great detail. Down to the very time she entered and the very moment she left. After all, it was her favorite story, aside from initiation at Beacon. Snapping from his reverie, he was suddenly flanked by two women, one with a pair of dark red feathers coming off an ear and the other with a white snowflake. Both had incredibly green eyes that could almost compete with Pyrrha, he'd say.

"Who are you?" The one with feathers whispered with a sultry tone.

"You're quite handsome." The other followed shortly after.

A drink slid against the bar and stopped in Jaune's open hand. "Thank you but…I need to speak with the big bear himself."

Both girls visibly tensed.

"So, the boy knows who I am." A booming voice echoed above the raging music. "Hei Xiong at your service. You are?"

"Jaune Arc." He responded. "Huntsman-in-training."

"What do you want with me?" Junior looked at the boy with narrowing eyes.

Jaune raised the drink to his lips, slowly sipping away. "I want your services for me and me alone. There's someone that I want to find and I was told that you'd be my best shot – after all, you're the man with all the right connections."

"Alright kid, who are you really?" Junior grabbed a hand gun from under the bar and placed it on the counter. "Better tell me now or I start shooting."

"Now, now, Junior." Jaune smirked to himself. "In about ten minutes, your buddy Roman Torchwick, my ticket to finding who I looking for, will arrive and ask for men. He'll probably regale about old times and try to play you like a damn fiddle. In fact, he will succeed. You will send your men to help him but you will use them to spy on him and his antics. I don't care for Torchwick – in fact I think he's kind of funny. What I want is to know who the hell he's working with and how to find her."

Junior and the two girls looked at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, his scroll rang. Junior jumped at the ringtone and quickly brought it out. Looking at the caller ID, it was Roman.

"Hey, Roman…" Junior spoke, nervously; eyes planted on Jaune. "How're you doing buddy–!"

Jaune shot his hand forward, holding Junior in place. The two girls immediately moved to fight him but stopped at the pleading look the Xiong held on his face. Sweat slowly built on the man's forehead as he listened to Roman speaking and the intense pressure of Jaune's godly grip.

"Yeah…no problem Roman." Hei responded.

"Don't worry about it buddy."

"No, it's nothing to be concerned about." Junior added. "Yes they're fine. Melanie, Miltia. Roman says hi…"

"Y-Yeah…ten minutes is reasonable." And with that last exchange, the scroll was shut and slammed onto the bar counter. Thanks to the music and near perfect construction of the bar, no one felt a damn thing or heard the impact.

Jaune released the man from his grasp, letting him gasp. "Now…if you still don't want to listen to what I'm saying then let me tell you this. About five minutes after Roman arrives and you agree to let him use your men for a quick job, a blonde girl, massive rack and beautiful lilac eyes will walk in and ask for a Strawberry Sunrise with a little umbrella. She will ask a few questions and if you don't answer in a way she approves of, you'll be sorry. After that, I'll be sure to come back to see if you reconsider my offer. Oh…and word of advice; don't call her blondie. Call her sir."

Rising from his seat, he took a heavy gulp of his drink before flipping the glass upside down and slamming it into the counter. Melanie and Miltia looked at him with wide eyes, almost brimming with endearment. Junior though, wiped the sweat from his brow with half a mind to reach for his handgun and start shooting. But he stopped, Jaune's eyes shifted from blue to a dark vermilion hue, almost scaring the hell out of him.

Guards and gangsters watched him as he headed for the entrance of the club. Before he left he turned to Junior with a small smirk and gave him a small nod before leaving. Just as Jaune left though, Roman appeared, bumping shoulders with the blond but he didn't seem to notice. Behind him a young woman walked with a small parasol in her arms. Melanie and Miltia immediately rushed up to greet them. After receiving a kiss on their cheeks, courtesy of Roman Torchwick, he walked happily towards his old friend, Hei Junior Xiong.

"Junior!" Roman called with a great smile on his face. Surprisingly, the cigar never left his lips. "What a pleasure it is to see you again, old friend."

"It's good to see you too, Roman." Hei responded with a less than enthusiastic voice. "I'm sorry, I'm just really caught up right now. Heavy stuff on my mind."

"Ah." The ginger smirked. "Don't worry about it, Junior. I got the thing that'll cheer you up."

The seventeen-year-old leaned against the wall of Junior's club, a bored look on his face. People saw him and immediately parted or did the best they can to get out of his way. He was annoyed and honestly boredom was killing him. He'd shed his sweater, feeling the heat boiling within. What was underneath, shocked a lot of people, Junior's guards included.

Around his chest, an ornately designed cuirass of pale white adorned with golden bronze accents reflected what little light the shattered moon could give. His shoulders were covered by pauldrons that were made of the same color scheme but were in the shape of Grimm faces. Ursa Major if one were to look close enough. Instead of blood red markings, they too were golden bronze accents. Lames fell from the pauldrons and covered the rest of his upper arms. Around his forearms, vambraces of the same type protected his wrists.

Crocea Mors was drawn, the blade resting on his shoulder and shield magnetically latched to his left bracer. While a part of him wanted to wear the darker version of his armor, he felt he might scare people a little too much. Sadly, because of his self-appointed mission, he had to withhold using his greaves, poleyn and cuisses. All three played such a vital role in his normal fighting style but tonight, those White Fang he disposed of were too easy – almost as if they weren't trying.

But before his mind could wander farther, a loud rumbling motor caught his attention. Whipping his head toward the source, men and women parted ways to reveal a beautiful sport bike, black and yellow like a bumblebee. On the vehicle, a woman with long beautiful locks of curly blonde hair pulled the brakes, bringing the bike to a skidding stop, kicking dirt and trash into the air.

That's Yang alright. Jaune smiled wistfully, blue eyes landing on her gorgeous figure.

"Why are you looking at me, blondie?"

His mind raced a thousand miles, zipping through his memories. He could remember hearing her calling him vomit boy; her protective nature of Ruby; the heinous crimes-against-humanity level puns. That voice – moaning his name, begging him to stay and stop fighting. The same voice that offered him her aura before dying in his –

"Yeah…" Jaune snapped from his reverie. Doing everything he can to calm his racing heart, his eyes trailed up and down her figure. "Says the blondie."

"Oh." She smirked. "A clever one, aren't you?"

"I like to think so."

Sheathing his blade into the shield, the kite collapsed into a sheath once more. With a quick motion, he stuck the weapon to his spine, blade standing vertical with pommel against his tail bone. "Jaune Arc. Huntsman-in-training. You?"

"Yang Xiao Long; Huntress-in-training." Her lilac eyes watched over his armored figure. "You don't look any older than I…what are you doing here?"

"Same reason as you." Yang's eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean by that?" She clenched her fists; Ember Celica slowly arming.

Jaune didn't bat an eye; both still locked with hers. "Junior supposedly knows everyone and everything. I need information and his services but…well…he didn't want to budge. I'd say it's time to let the fairer sex have a crack at the bear."

Yang walked by him, eyes following his form. Jaune though, feeling a bit of confidence, followed after her, using his semblance to disappear from sight. Walking along, he could see Roman Torchwick calling out commands and whisking away at least twelve of Junior's men, all the while leaving a quite perturbed gangster. He rested his forearms against the bar, Miltia and Melanie trying to console him. It was no use; Torchwick was adamant and Jaune predicted every move to a tee.

Junior sighed to himself, feeling sweat bullet down his brow, drenching his fancy Atlesian suit. Melanie and Miltia whispered to him, telling him to just agree to Jaune's terms, adding that Jaune knew things that no one else did. But everything came to a halt; time and color itself seemed to stop.

"I'll have a Strawberry Sunrise." A girl spoke beside him. "Oh! And can I have one of those little umbrellas?"

Junior turned pale remembering Jaune's words. His eyes slowly crept over to see long locks of blonde hair, curly and with a single lock pointing up. Her eyes were incredibly lilac, almost ethereal. The Xiong didn't think he was serious when he said it but damn – she did have a massive rack. Feeling cold and muscles freezing, Junior's eyes planted forward, doing everything he can to ignore the woman beside him.

"Hey." She smiled. "You must be Junior, right?"

"Y-Yes. How can I help you, blondie?" The man stammered, slightly backing away from the girl. "Erm…I-I mean, sir!"

"I need –!"

Before she could continue, hands shot up. "I'll do anything you need!"

Yang's brow rose in surprise but relented just enough. "Have you seen this woman? I need this information badly."

"I haven't seen her before." Junior responded after a few moments of thought. Her eyes slowly began to shift to red. "B-But I'm c-certain I know a f-few people who have!"

Yang sat patiently, sipping away at her Strawberry Sunrise, watching and listening as Junior made a few hundred calls to the many people he knew. Henchmen looked at her with both surprise and fear, making sure to keep their distance from the blonde. While she didn't show any ounce of her power, to see their boss – a man who'd carved his own little empire in the crime infested netherworld of Vale – cower and work faithfully was a sign to not mess with the girl.

Even the Malachite twins dared no rise up against her. Their green eyes burned with terror and confusion. While normally they wouldn't shy from a fight, the boy that came in not only held the bear himself in a death grip; he predicted everything to come thus far. That was more than enough to terrify the two girls – they too kept their distance from Yang.

But once a valid piece of information was given, the Xiao Long rose from her seat and walked away. Boots clapped against the glass dance floor and soon enough she was gone. Almost like a collective breath, Junior, his two favorite goons and the rest of the cannon fodder that surrounded them released their sighs and sucked in as much air as they could, breathing heavily.

But all wasn't over.

On the swivel chair, a figure suddenly appeared, making everyone jump back a step. The boy spun around, turning to face Junior and his army of goons with a smirk on his face and leg crossed over the other. His arms rested on his chest, the armor making him look incredibly imposing. With a whip of his hair, the locks slowly caught on fire, his sapphire blue irides bled into crimson.

"Now, Junior." Jaune smiled. "You actually listened to what I had to say and I must say…I'm impressed. You not only saved your bar, club and hundreds of thousands of Lien in damages, but you actually let Yang have a Strawberry Sunrise."

"W-What?!" The man looked at him. "W-Where?!"

"I was here the entire time." Jaune yawned. "My semblance allows me to – in simpler terms – 'disappear', yeah? I'd really hate to repeat myself, Junior. Are you going to reconsider my offer, or am I going to have to do what that beautiful blonde was going to do?"

Yay! A quick chapter before the arrival at Beacon!

Ja ne!

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