Plastered Paradox

Chapter 1

The first thing Jaune became aware of when he finally cracked open his eyes was the pounding in his head. With a low groan, he raised his hands up to rub his temples, wincing as he did so.

"Fuck me…" he breathed. "I can't tell if I got hit by a truck, or if I just pissed Yang off again."

As if the raging headache wasn't bad enough, something else soon made itself clear – namely, that he was freezing. As soon as his body decided to inform him that he was, in fact, quite cold, Jaune instantly bundled his arms around himself, his teeth chattering the entire time. He spared a glance down, and couldn't help but sigh in resignation when he saw that he was standing in the middle of a small blizzard, and he wasn't wearing pants.

"Yeah, okay," he said to himself. "I can only assume that this means that last night was really good. The only question is, how-"

At that moment, he happened to glance up, and whatever he was about to say died on his lips as his eyes widened in surprise. Towering above him were countless skyscrapers, reaching up to the gray skies above. It was unmistakably Atlas, which was a problem because the last he recalled of Atlas, it was crashing harder than Nora after a week without sugar.

"Huh," he said to himself, after a moment's pause. "Shit, I must have been hitting the absinthe hard to be hallucinating this badly. Which is weird, because I'm pretty sure I'm tasting tequila on my tongue, not absinthe." He paused and smacked his lips a bit, grimacing when he realized what he was tasting. "Ah, yeah – definitely tequila, with a hint of something else. Let's see… tastes like vanilla, strawberry, chocolate…"

He paused… then let out an anguished shout high into the sky.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" he shouted. "Me and Neo? And I can't fucking remember any of it?! That's it, that's it – someone is gonna die for this."

"Excuse me, sir?"

Jaune instantly turned to look for the voice behind him, and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when he saw a man with white hair and an admittedly quite dashing mustache staring at him with disdain.

"Can I help you?" Jaune asked.

The man huffed, annoyed. "Can he help me, he asks… you can help the entire world by putting on some pants. What you're doing is downright obscene."

"Well, I'm sorry," Jaune remarked. "Next time I get blackout drunk, I'll write a note reminding drunk me to pack an extra pair." He looked around. "Is this really Atlas, by the way?"

"Where else would it be?" the man asked.

"How would I know? That's why I'm asking. This place looks like Vale, only a lot more racist. Which is saying a lot, because Vale is already really racist. But it's downright palpable here – feels like I'd get lynched if I so much as wore a set of fake cat ears."

"What makes you say we're racist?" the man asked, his eyes narrowing. "We simply want the animals to stay in their place."

"You're not helping your-" Jaune trailed off as he realized something. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. I get it now – the casual racism, the poor white-hair dye job, the undisguised disdain for someone you clearly believe is beneath you, and the unfortunately quite impressive mustache… are you Jacques Schnee, by any chance?"

The man held himself a bit higher, pleased at the recognition. "Well, it's good to see that my name is known even by the riff-raff."

"Buddy, you're way too much of a cold-hearted bastard to be giving me sass," Jaune pointed out. "For real, last I checked, you were in jail specifically because you literally tried to make a deal with the biggest source of evil in the world to win a fucking election. In fact, why am I even talking to you? I should be dragging you back to prison so Bubba can help you find the soap you dropped."

Jaune took a step forward, and Jacques took one back.

"H-hold on!" Jacques stammered out. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Yeah, okay," Jaune said. "So you're just going to act like you didn't absolutely sell out everyone in Atlas, even your own family?"

"Yes, because that didn't happen!"

"Dude, your own daughter helped expose you. She literally got you on film plotting to rig the election."

"Winter did what now?!"

Jaune stared at him, surprised. "...The hell are you talking about? We all know Winter would never do anything actually helpful – she's too busy enjoying the taste of Ironwood's leather soles."

"What on Remnant are you talking about?" Jacques asked, sounding genuinely confused. "What does my eldest daughter have to do with Lieutenant Commander Ironwood? She isn't even in the Academy yet-"

"Whoa, hold on," Jaune said. "What the fuck are you talking about? Winter is a Specialist-"

"Not for another few years, she isn't," Jacques answered. "She's currently training to become one… against my wishes, I must add. And how did you even know that, anyway? That's a private family matter. Did one of my staff members leak that information?"

Jaune blinked, surprise. He brought a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply.

"...Okay, sure," he muttered. "Probably should have realized that Jacques was way younger than I remember, but I was just too distracted by the mustache…" He shook his head, then looked back to Jacques. "I've got a question for you."

"Why on Remnant would I answer any of your questions?" Jacques asked. "You're standing here saying ridiculous things, and even worse, you're half-naked in public. People are staring."

"I don't know what they're staring at – it's so cold that the damn thing's basically retreated back into my stomach. At this point, we're gonna have six more weeks of winter."

"That's disgusting!"

"Look, just answer my question and I'll be on my way," Jaune implored. "Think of it like this – the sooner I get my answers, the sooner you can stop talking to me and forget we ever met. I think that sounds like a good deal."

"...Very well," Jacques conceded, with barely-hidden disgust. "What do you want to know?"

"How many years ago was the Great War?"

"What a stupid question. The Great War happened exactly seventy years ago."

Jaune's eyes widened in surprise. That settled it, then – not only was he in the past, but he was really in the past. When he had first joined Beacon, the Great War had reached its eightieth anniversary. So that put him about ten years in the past from his actual time, and then an additional ten years in the past from there.

"Oh," Jaune acknowledged. "Well, uh… that's a problem."

"I don't care," Jacques said. "Is this the part where I forget we ever met?"

"Sure, sure. Of course, I never said how you're going to forget."

"Whatever do you-"

That was as far as Jacques got before Jaune clocked him over the head, instantly knocking him out in a single blow.

"Prick," Jaune commented, shaking his hand out. "That's for everything you're going to do in the future, asshole." He paused. "...Wait, what if the only reason Jacques turns out to be such an irredeemable asshole in the future is because I smacked him over the head just now, possibly knocking a few screws loose? I mean, this is three years before he ruined Weiss' tenth birthday party – maybe he wasn't at the point of no return just yet. Maybe there was still a kind soul hidden behind a layer of hatred, just waiting for another kind soul to bring it out. Maybe I'm the reason why Jacques ends up becoming such a problem later on."

Jaune stopped to consider all of this for a moment, then shrugged. "Eh. Too late now, I guess."

He took a step away from Jacque's unconscious body, then stopped and turned around as he considered something.

"...Well, I do need them more than him…" Jaune said to himself, staring at Jacques' admittedly quite fancy pants.

For the first time in awhile, Jaune felt good, aside from the pounding hangover. He was striding down the street, dressed in a very nice set of freshly-stolen slacks. Sure, Mama Arc hadn't raised a thief, but was it really stealing if you stole from someone who was as big of an asshole as Jacques Schnee was?

"Just not gonna focus on that whole thing from earlier," Jaune muttered.

Anyway, speaking of thievery, Jaune had to admit that those armed robbery lessons Emerald had given him had actually come in handy. Initially, he had only learned them from her to steal back the things she stole from him in the first place (because despite ostensibly being his ally, she was still a huge kleptomaniac), but still, they had actually come in handy.

"What's going on with Emerald, anyway?" Jaune wondered as he walked the streets of Atlas with no real destination in mind. "Maybe I should try and find her – I don't think Cinder has gotten to her yet, so she should still be young and impressionable enough that I can get to her first and drop her off with someone who can actually take care of her properly… you know, whoever that is. Taiyang, maybe."

Jaune stopped, abruptly letting out a yawn. He winced as his mouth opened, bringing a hand up to rub at his temples.

"Fuck me…" he breathed. "Alright, so I'm in the past now. I have no idea if I can make it back to the future or not. The only one I can think of who might know is Ozpin, who's away in Vale. First order of business is getting to him and convincing him to help me. But until then… I've gotta sleep off this hangover, because holy shit, it's killing me."

And as if answering his prayers, a fancy-looking hotel came into view as he turned a street corner – The Glass Unicorn.

"Sounds bougie," Jaune commented. "Well, might as well try – I mean, I doubt they'll turn away someone with pants as nice as this."

And so, he stepped through the doors, only to almost instantly be stopped by a portly woman at the front desk.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked, looking up from her magazine. "You don't look nearly fancy enough to be here."

"You kidding?" Jaune asked. He thrusted his pelvis out at her. "Check out these pants, lady. Fancy, huh?"

"Quite," she deadpanned. "Now, will you be leaving under your own power, or will I have to call the police?"

"Hold on, hold on," Jaune said. He stuck a hand in his pocket. "How much for a room?"

"For you? A thousand."

"...A night?! Jeez, and I thought I had just committed robbery…"

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Jaune hurriedly insisted. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, retrieving Jacques' wallet and pulling a stack of lien cards from it. "Here, just give me a room for… however much this'll give me. I can't be bothered to count it out right now."

Thankfully, the woman accepted the money and didn't ask any questions. Instead, she pocketed the cards and handed him a key.

"Room 312," she said, turning her attention back to her magazine. "We'll have someone stop by to check on you in a bit."

Jaune nodded, taking the key with barely-disguised disdain and walking off. He marched through the hotel, not stopping for a moment until he reached Room 312, stepped inside, and collapsed on the bed, intending to get some sleep.

"Man, fuck this," he groaned. "I'm in the past, I punched out Jacques Schnee, I stole his pants, and now I just basically got robbed by some frumpy-looking old bitch at this hotel. Could this day get any worse?"

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Jaune sighed tiredly, then turned towards the front of the room.

"It's unlocked," he called.

The door opened, and in came someone who seemed almost familiar. She was young – around fifteen, if he had to wager a guess – with yellow eyes and black hair. She was dressed in a ratty old outfit, and just looked defeated, if the exhausted look on her face and the beaten-down way she carried herself were any indication. Jaune couldn't help but pause when he saw her.

"Geez," he commented. "Are the shifts here really that rough?"

The girl shifted, uncomfortable. Jaune noticed for the first time that the collar on her old uniform was quite high – almost up to her chin. Moreover, the girl was very on-edge, for reasons that he couldn't quite tell.

"What can I get for you?" she asked, though the words came out as little more than a hiss.

"You can let me sleep," Jaune said. "I don't particularly need anything at the moment."

The girl actually seemed relieved to hear him say that, but it only lasted for a moment before it gave way to more disdain. Still, she nodded, then turned and began to walk away. Jaune watched her go for just a moment before he felt compelled to call out.

"Wait a minute," he called, making her stop.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Are you really an employee here?" he asked.

She paused, then turned around to face him, confusion etched across her face. "...What?"

"You know, an employee?" Jaune asked again. "Like, you work for someone, and they pay you a wage for it?"

"Of course I am."

"Really? Because I find it hard to believe that a hotel as nice as this would let their employees dress the way you are now."

The girl's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing much," Jaune commented. "It's just, you know, I'm a Huntsman. It's my job to handle problems as they appear. And if my suspicions are correct, then you're not actually an employee here, and that's a problem for the proprietor."

"...You're a Huntsman?" the girl asked, stunned. "You… don't look like one. In fact, you look like an alcoholic."

"As any professional Huntsman would tell you, there's very little difference," Jaune said. He stood up from the bed and walked over to her. "So, talk to me. What's going on, here?"

The girl hesitated, then sighed. "...She's my stepmother," she muttered. "She… adopted me, years ago. Put me to work ever since. I have to do what she says, or-"

"Or what?" Jaune asked as she trailed off. She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to – this close, Jaune could finally make out why her outfit went up so high on her neck.

The small, bulging outline wrapped around her throat told him more than enough.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "How long have they had that thing on you?"

"...A few years," came the response.

Jaune grit his teeth. Logic told him that he couldn't afford to make waves in the past, not when he ran the risk of messing with the future… but at the same time, he couldn't ignore just how wrong this entire situation was.

Besides, she was just one girl. What was the worst that could happen?

"Hold still," he said.

The girl blinked in surprise, and went to pull away when Jaune reached for her throat, only to gasp in surprise when he instead grabbed the shock collar on either side, then pulled with all his strength, his aura flexing. The collar broke in the blink of an eye, coming apart in two pieces. Jaune stared at the shattered collar in his hands, then dropped both pieces on the floor and unceremoniously ground them into dust beneath his heel.

The girl stared at him in amazement, then brought her hands up to rub her throat, sighing in relief when she felt skin instead of metal. Jaune wasn't satisfied, though – not when he saw the scarring around her neck.

"Well," he said. "That was fun, but I think we can make it more fun. What's say we-"

"Why?" the girl demanded.

Jaune trailed off, surprised. "What do you mean, why?"

"Why did you help me? You haven't even known me for five minutes."

"Because I'm a Huntsman. Helping people is what I do."

"But… I've met Huntsmen before. They've never helped me like that."

"Pardon my Atlesian, but what the fuck are you talking about? What do you mean, they've never helped you like that before?"

"There was another Huntsman," the girl explained. "He figured out that I was being kept as a slave here. He took me under his wing – decided to train me to follow in his footsteps whenever he was here. He gave me a weapon, taught me how to use my aura and semblance… I was going to break out of here on my own."

Jaune sighed tiredly, bringing a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. "Yes, because giving a traumatized, abused, emotionally-compromised teenager deadly weapons and access to superpowers couldn't possibly go wrong… I swear, these people mean well, but sometimes I have to wonder what the fuck is going through their heads. The least the guy could have done was take you out of here."

"He said that would be breaking the law," the girl explained. "Since my stepmother legally adopted me-"

"Yeah, well, fuck the law. I'm doing what's actually right, and Atlas is a shithole of a kingdom, anyway. Their laws aren't even fit to wipe my ass with," Jaune declared. "And right now, I think the right thing to do is get you out of here, consequences be damned."

"And how do you intend to do that? Are you going to kill my stepmother?"

"No!" Jaune declared. "No, no deaths."

The girl's shoulders slumped disappointedly.

"But that doesn't mean we can't have fun with it," Jaune added.

She looked to him in surprise. "What?"

"You said that Huntsman helped you figure out your semblance, right?"

"Well, he taught me the basics – really it was my stepmother's abuse that did it. My semblance is that I can superheat things."

"So you can start fires? That sort of thing?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Great." Jaune offered a hand to her. "Pull my finger."

She raised an eyebrow. He grinned at her. "Trust me."

Hesitantly, she reached out and took hold of his finger. The moment she did, Jaune activated his own semblance. The girl gasped as power began to flow through her. Slowly, a manic grin crossed her face as a small flame began to form in her other hand.

Idly, Jaune couldn't help but wonder if he'd just made a huge mistake.

Jaune watched as throngs of people came sprinting out of the burning hotel. All around them, firefighters worked to battle the blaze, and were mostly losing. Luckily, the fire had started far away from any of the guests, and someone had been quick to pull the fire alarm, so everyone had managed to evacuate before it was too late.

Unfortunately for the hotel's proprietor, however, there was no saving the building – the flames were simply too intense.
Jaune let out a content sigh as he watched the building burn in the night. "And nothing of value was lost," he observed.

Silence greeted his comment, and he immediately frowned, looking around. "Uh, kid? You good?"

"I am more than good," the girl said, a snide grin on her face. "I'm free."

"Yeah, that's nice. Now we just need to find a place where I can drop you off."

Her grin faded. "...What? I thought you were taking me with you."

"I am. I'm taking you with me to a new family, one that will actually treat you nice and give you all the things that teenage girls need to thrive – you know, gossip magazines, cheap makeup, and a patient mother figure to deal with all the undeserved abuse your teenage girl angst is going to throw at her. Unfortunately, I can't really give you any of that, not to mention that I've got stuff I've got to do that necessitates leaving you somewhere."

The girl stared at him, then crossed her arms and turned away angrily. Jaune rolled his eyes.

"Oh, come on," he said. "You don't want me taking care of you, anyway. Hell, look at me – my pants may be nice, but I reek of alcohol all the time. I drink so much that my blood is basically more ethanol than anything by this point. I'm like permanently intoxicated at this point, unless you think sober people make a habit of helping random teenagers burn down hotels."

"...Fine," she reluctantly acknowledged.

"Great," Jaune replied. "So, let's get going. We're gonna have to get the fuck out of Atlas before people start connecting the dots and realize that I tend to spread destruction wherever I go. Seriously, between punching out Jacques Schnee and stealing his pants and the hotel spontaneously burning down about five minutes after I arrived, I figure I've already got at least a three-star wanted level, and it's only a matter of time before Atlas starts actually looking for me."

"You're very focused on Jacques Schnee's pants," the girl observed.

"They're nice fucking pants, okay?" Jaune put a hand on his hip. "Anyway, let's get going. We're gonna hitch a ride and go to Vale."

"Why Vale?"

"I figure we'll be able to kill two birds with one stone. I've got something there I need to get done, plus I've got some friends of mine there who will be able to take you in. How are you with small children?"

She frowned. "You mean I'd have siblings?"

"Yes, but they'd be really young," Jaune assured her. "Seriously, it's not like you're gonna be bullied by small children, unless your name is Roman Torchwick. Then they bully you and get early acceptance into school because of it."

"Who?"

"Never mind," Jaune said, a bit too quickly. "Anyway, yeah, we're going to Vale. I figure we'll be able to hitch a ride on an airship or something. How are you with flying?"

"I've never done it."

"No worries, you'll get used to it. Just know that if you're going to get sick, you should do it on your own shoes. Ask me how I know."

The girl stared at him. "You're weird," she declared.

"You have no idea," Jaune said. He motioned for her to follow him, and the two began walking. "Anyway, what's your name? I don't think I've asked yet. I'm Jaune, Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."

"Cinder Fall," she answered.

Jaune instantly stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in surprise as the girl's words turned over and over in his mind. After a few seconds of letting the words sink in, his brain finally settled on a response that he felt was appropriate.

"Oh, fuck me…"

Welcome, friends, to the next piece of crack to come bubbling out of my sick little mind. I suspect several of you clicked on this because you read Problems With Dating the RWBY Girls, so let me just state that this is going to be somewhat different, in that there's going to be a plot here. Yes, crack with plot - maybe that's an oxymoron, but it's also the best way I can think of to describe this story, because hoo boy, it's going to get weird in a bit.

Next up, pairings. No, this fic will not feature Knightfall - Jaune's like 30 here and Cinder is around 15, and as much as I like Knightfall, I still have my limits. No, we're going for a different pairing, one that you'll all probably be able to figure out pretty damn soon, lol.

As for humor, I promise I will do my best to make this fic as cracky and stupid as possible without compromising on the plot too much, because I suspect that's what you're all here for, since I've been promising more crack ever since Problems finished up awhile back, and I intend to deliver. I intend to put the comedy first, since this is a comedy at its core, it's just a comedy with a mild plot attached.

Housekeeping items: I just put another story out a few days ago, it's a crossover between RWBY and the STALKER series of video games. It's called Black Sun, Blood Moon - you can find it on my profile or in the STALKER/RWBY crossover section if you're interested. Personally, I think that story is my finest serious work so far, so if you like my serious stuff at all, consider giving it a look even if you're not familiar with the STALKER series. Oh, and it's going to feature Knightfall, of course, can't forget that lol.

Aside from that, I don't have much else. Thanks a lot for checking this story out, I really appreciate it and hope you enjoyed!