Arc - Day 20: I had another episode last night, Harlaw again; it was Rory this time, his guts strewn over the dirt. He wouldn't stop screaming for his baby brother. Even as I tried fruitlessly over and over to pack his intestines back into his torso, he wouldn't stop crying. I can't keep him together, and he's just there: falling to shreds in my hands. I don't know how long after that I woke up, but I nearly took the head off someone across the ballroom. It was too dark to see, but I could feel them, their aura flaring up as my muzzle swept the darkness. Guess I can't sleep with the pistol in reach—too much risk. I called Dad right after- He told me how proud he was that I wasn't bottling it up, said it'll be something I've got to learn to live with, learn to put it out of my mind with time and the help of others. We got into a long conversation about his first days as a Huntsman in Vale as I walked the campus, about how one of his first deployments was to defend the collapsing Mountain Glenn- we talked about how he lost half his team that day, and how mom and he learned to bare their pain of loss together; "The light of the mind alone cannot burn away all darkness, so it's good to have friends- to love, to build camaraderie with, to help you find your way back to normalcy." Those words of his stuck with me more than anything else.
Despite the daylight breaking only a few hours earlier, Jaune Arc was already beyond exhausted. Granted, two and a half hours of sleep only to wake in a cold sweat with your hands grasping at your gun would do that to you. The shower had helped, and so did the eggs and coffee at breakfast. The LAR Ursa sat awkwardly in the front left of his waistband, secured in place by a tightened belt and concealed by the extra fabric of his Pumpkin Pete's hoodie.
Undeterred by Beacon's 'Secure locker policy,' the blond opted to carry the pistol with him back from last night's training session- something about being fully disarmed was too disconnected from the reality he'd encountered outside the walls of Vale and the halls of Beacon. The cool metal was comforting in a way, a reminder of the darkness that mirrored the light of man and a layer of security he could fall back on if needed. A few students had been mingling around the cafeteria, a few he'd recognized only in passing from his time training and yesterday's busy schedule. A bunny faunus here, a grey-haired teacher there; familiarity was new for him. Seeing the same faces as days before put his worried mind at ease.
Arc flipped through his scroll absentmindedly through the morning news of VNN- two of Vale's newest settlements had been hit by Grimm or bandits. Authorities were unsure at the moment. One had been razed to the ground by the White Fang, and the images that followed the report put a sour taste in his mouth. He washed it away with a large sip of black coffee, attention shifting to the CCTnet and the phrase Ruby had found on his rifle.
A quick search had brought up a dozen or so articles on The Great War, most of them denoting the phrase as little more than a rallying cry of the Valeans during the seven years of asymmetric fighting in the mountains of Sanus, but one site had caught his eye, the article some twenty years old was a first-person account of the phrase's origin.
It was a Faunus Veteran narrating his earlier days in the war, claiming it was a young human baker from the east of Vale who'd first spoken the line, 'Par la liberté ou la mort, nous trouverons notre patrie.' Jaune paused, translating the old language to himself, "By liberty or death, we will find our homeland." The saying had evolved into a call for mobilization once Vale had pushed Mantle and Mistral back to the sea, a call of retribution once Vale stood ready to invade Solitas, and a call of victory nearly eight years after the outbreak of war following the defeat of the Mantleian Czardom in their capital city.
The cogs in his mind began to turn, the blond hastily typing in the name of his great-great-grandfather. A flurry of works, articles, and autobiographies filled his CCTnet page, most dated back a decade or so, and all carried the same title. "Julius James Arc, Brigadier General of the VEF," the words seemed to flow out of his mouth. Jaune continued to read one of the autobiographic recounts of his ancestor's time in the Great War; He'd been present during the failed coastal defense of Vale Proper, distinguished combat service during the mountain resistance campaign, general officer of the spearhead platoon leading the beachhead landings of the Solitas counteroffensive- the list seemed to go on.
Arc hesitated to dig deeper into the eighty-year-old war and Julius' involvement. The undersized notification on his scroll that Initiation was close quickly took priority. All he'd need to do was survive the next few hours, keep his head down, and get settled into a team. He slipped his scroll into his pocket, pushing through the wave of overslept initiates leading out the cafeteria doors and onto the campus grounds.
A surge of people had amassed near an adjacent building, and crowds around the secured lockers fluctuated as Jaune peered down to his scroll, having to double-take as he reread his locker number off again, "636? What do they expect me to hike to the damn thing?"
The walk from lockers one hundred to five hundred had been a chaotic mess, the blond having to dodge and weave his way between students and weapons alike, staring more than a few times down the business end of a mechashift or firearm being wielded recklessly.
If Initiation didn't kill him, the anxiety from today would. Arc halfhearted sighed to himself, "God, this day can't get worse, can it?"
A head of snow-white hair belonging to one Weiss Schnee, accompanied by the same firey redhead that had caused him to choke on his whiskey the day before answering that question for him... of course, Schnee had to be between him and his locker.
Why? Because the universe seemed to hate Jaune Arc.
"So, Pyrrha! Any thoughts on whose team you're going to be on? Someone such as yourself with such notoriety and fighting prestige- I'm certain you must be inundated with proposals from all kinds of students. I have been privy to a few." Weiss put her hand over her heart in a gesture of sympathy, the spartan girl next to her simply nodding softly.
"Well, I've received a few though I'm not quite sure. I was hoping to let the chips fall where they may, I guess?" The taller redhead seemed to skirt around the topic.
"Well... I was thinking since we both have been getting offers, maybe instead we could..." Weiss' voice petered off as her eyes fell on Jaune, her countenance losing its friendly lustre, replaced by a scowl.
His mind called him to clear the air and be the bigger man. On the off chance he'd have to rely on her out in those woods, better uneasy peace between them than adversaries. He still wanted to chew the heiress out over her comments regarding the Vale-Vytal line- but that would have to wait. His personal vexation wouldn't help the situation.
"Wonderful, just who I needed interrupting me this morning, The blond with no name- Beacon Academy's own personal flight risk. Stay away from this one, Pyrrha. He's nothing but a danger to himself and the school." The Schnee's tone had grown surprisingly more bitter than when he'd last talked to her; the reasoning behind it was something Jaune quickly deduced.
"Morning to you too, Weiss, looks like your talk with the headmaster went far. Now, if you're done trying to tarnish the reputation of someone you don't even know the name of, I'd like to try and explain myself." It was snarky and chock full of the spite he'd wanted to contain. Still, he'd be lying if watching the shorter Atleasian girl springboard between unbridled fury and the facade of cordiality she'd set up with Pyrrha wasn't enjoyable.
Pyrrha interrupted the two, helplessly confused at the sheer animosity between the seemingly complete strangers, "What does she mean by flight risk?"
"Well..." Jaune paused, searching for the girl's name- he'd definitely seen her face somewhere before the amphitheater, but he couldn't place it. "Uhhhh-"
"Pyrrha" The redhead caught on to his plight, surprisingly enthusiastic at his lack of information, extending a handshake between the two.
"Jaune Arc." The blond shook it with a small smile, "Nice to put a name to the face of the girl who scared the life out of me yesterday." A slight look of shock crossed the spartan's face before Arc laughed it off, "Anyways, Pyrrha, I sort of blew up a-"
"Wait-wait-wait... Jaune," Weiss' tone had shifted from hostility to a holier-than-thou smugness, "Do you seriously not have any idea who you're talking to?"
"Yeah, her name is Pyrrha. Tall, red hair, standing right next to you. Now can I get to why I blew up the cargo cart, or are you going to-"
"Wow, you seriously have no idea? You're speaking with THE Pyrrha Nikos, she was the top graduate of Sanctum academy, and someone of her talent has been unheard of for years! The girl is undefeated in sparring- a record of 227 consecutive fights."
It was small, but Arc caught the redhead's demeanor shift with every new excerpt of information; the shine in her face faltered, her shoulders dropped lower, and her arms crossed over each other. Pyrrha wasn't prime on her livelihood coming to light.
Arc opted to hold his tongue, hoping to weather through Weiss' tirade of explanations, attention focused instead on the weapon's locker just out of reach...
"Are you even listening?! Pyrrha is the four-time consecutive winner of the Mistral Regional Tournaments! She's a living legend! She's on your damn cereal boxes!" By now, the snow-white girl had gone red in the face, angrily throwing her hands out to emphasize the now ever-growingly meek figure of the Mistralian and the vibrant caricature of Pumpkin Pete on his sweatshirt.
God, she didn't know when to let it go, did she?
Jaune turned to face Pyrrha directly and nodded sympathetically, "I was never one for tournaments, focused more on the fundamentals of swordsmanship. You ever fight Grimm?"
"Oh! Uh... not really outside of some basic level simulations, mostly I just faced off against human competitors in the ring." Nikos was pleasantly taken aback by the question, quietly brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Well, it's almost nothing fighting an opponent in the ring. The Grimm never seem to leave an opening and don't care much for personal survival. Kill shots should be your focus, but taking off a limb never hurts."
A quiet scoff cut the short silence, Wiess looking at him unconvinced.
"As if a dunce like you knows anything about fighting Grimm."
The statement might as well have been a smack across his face. An uncomfortable heat burned up in his chest as the young man turned to stare coldly at the Atleasian girl. A hand dropped to his waist, gripping at the right hem of his sweatshirt and tugging it up; the once shredded flesh had mended with time and aura, sewing itself back together across his skin in a patchwork of scar tissue, the four distinct gashes cutting from the base of his right rib inwards to his stomach, stopping only an inch or so from his navel.
He watched Schnee's eyes go wide, a hand coming over her mouth as she stepped back.
"One way or another, we all remember our first, and I've got plenty more, Weiss. So unless you want to continue this pissing contest, I'd like to get my damn gear."
The heiress looked silently between the champion fighter and the blond, turning her head in protest and storming off. Jaune eyed the left-behind Mistrali momentarily, making an effort to smile before stepping over to his locker.
A simple nine-digit keypad held his munitions secure, a tremor forming in the blond's hands as he input the code to open it, 3-0-0-6. It was a bit simple to figure out, but it worked for him in the interim.
The door to the container swung open, revealing the sword and shield of his family lineage and the firearm of his great-great-grandfather before him- guarding his armor, chest rig, and backpack. For a few moments, Jaune stood silently staring through his gear, focus drifting across the month-long slog of fighting to survive.
Day in and day out for him, it had been misery out in the wilds. Moments of respite were only something he'd found in Vale, and at the moment, not in Beacon- not yet, at least.
The handgun now free of the left side of his appendix and resting in the locker, Jaune tightened down the holster to his right leg, sliding the holster's tertiary to his opposite side- two dual mag holders secured down onto the left of his belt with ease, his gloves following soon after.
He needed to push his bitterness aside and focus on the fight ahead.
Arc quickly slid the armor, rig, and bag after, checking over his BAR mags before sliding one into his rifle's magwell with a satisfying snap. The blond tugged back the bolt and flicked the safety off, sliding the twenty-pound firearm over his shoulder as he'd done countless times.
The BAR's sights were still aligned, the action's manipulation was smooth, and the trigger weight was perfect. His Ursa came off the locker shelf, Jaune slid out the magazine, checking the slide and dry firing once into the floor- satisfied the mag returned to his Ursa, and the hand cannon slid snugly into its holster.
Last was his shield and sword, the former emblazoned with the gold crests of the Arc name, the latter polished to a sheen he was sure old man Julius would be proud of, locking the blade and scabbard shield combo onto his belt.
A breath he'd been holding left him, Jaune shutting the locker door a bit too hard.
"Easy there, big guy, save it for the forest, eh?"
Arc turned to see Yang, a hand on her hip, giving him the same knowing look he'd seen growing up from his five older sisters. It was a look he missed, one of commonality and mutual understanding. The brawler had her gauntlets primed for combat, a layer of golden metal extending over her wrists and up her forearm, accompanied by an internal belt of eight gauge magnum shells and a shortened barrel.
"Yang, to what do I owe the pleasure?" a small smile formed on Jaune's face as memories of home crossed his mind.
She grinned jokingly, "Oh, not much, I just saw you talking up a storm with a certain champion and Schnee heiress and figured I'd throw my hat in the ring as well. Any information on how teams might end up?"
"They were talking about partners mostly. Still not sure myself on how teams will be worked out outside of the historical four-man design." The blond shrugged, sensing no animosity from the Valean girl about Schnee or Nikos. She must have missed the last bit of their conversation.
The shorter blonde let out a soft sigh, "Well, that gets me no closer to Rubes..." Yang paused, looking at him for a moment, eyeing him with the same scrutiny he'd seen from the airship to the ballroom. "Jaune, older sibling to older sibling, could you keep an eye out for Ruby? If I don't end up her partner, I want to trust she'll have a friend as her partner."
A young boy with a head of brown hair flashed across Jaune's memory: a missing leg, blood that was not his own soaked from the blond's hands to his jeans, a promise he'd broken- a horrible scream he couldn't push out of his mind.
The replaced with the soft smile and cheery attitude of the Scythe-wielder.
"Of course. Even if I don't get partnered up with Ruby, I'll make sure she's alright."
The words left his mouth before he could even comprehend them, a warm smile forming on Xiao Long's face as she nodded. He'd done it again, given out a promise he had no idea if he could uphold. He should walk it back and say he'll keep an eye out.
"Promise?"
The gaze of his fellow blonde held a tone he'd not seen since the walls of Harlaw- a look of trust. He couldn't walk it back, and he wouldn't walk it back. Instead, he'd make good on his promises.
"Promise, an Arc never goes back on his word."
A quiet laugh of relief left the brawler as she playfully tapped his shoulder, "I'm counting on it, Jaune. See you out there."
The time between Yang's departure from the lockers and Jaune's arrival at the Emerald forest cliffside seemed to blend together as Beacon's campus passed him by. The blond found his way to an open stone slab along the top of the cliff face, looking over at a half dozen familiar faces to his left standing under similar emplacements.
He'd nearly been late, having lost track of time thinking over the past and praying for the future over the phone with his Dad. Nick had spoken about his initiation, being trucked into the Emerald Forest and forced to camp out two days before initiation began, only to have their camps trashed by four-year teams and the initiates sent scrambling. 'An effort to improve huntsman field survivability,' Glynda had called it.
Ruby stood off to his left, waving quickly to him as he took his spot- the quiet man in green to his right simply nodded to the blond, Arc returning the favor before turning his attention to the approaching headmaster and professor Goodwitch.
Ozpin silently surveyed the students around him, pushing his glasses up his nose with a finger before striking his cane against the ground, any lingering attention brought swiftly to focus on the grey-haired man.
The headmaster cleared his throat, looking between the initiates with a calculative gaze, "For some, you've dedicated your formative years to become warriors of humanity and faunus alike, some of you are here for opportunity- looking to prove yourselves, and some by dire straits are here as a chance for redemption."
Jaune could practically feel Ozpin staring through him for the last two.
"None of it will matter after today. One's background, their path to success- means nothing in the eyes of the Grimm, and so it will mean nothing to Beacon. You will be judged solely on your ability to fight, to adapt to your environment, and work cohesively as partners, as teams, and for a select number of you here today: leaders."
He watched as Ozpin turned to Goodwitch, nodding to her as the assistant headmaster stepped forward.
"Many of you have speculated on the assignments of teams and of partners. Well, allow me to put an end to your concerns. Partners will be assigned... today. As such, I would advise each of you to do well in locating a partner with whom you can trust with your life."
A few sighs of relief could be heard from the collective students, Glynda nodding back to the Headmaster as the two staff members stifled grins. Ozpin turned back to the students, clearing his throat and tapping his cane again against the ground.
"That being said, the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years. The war against the Grimm is often fought spontaneously, so your introduction will be conducted similarly. After successfully landing, make your way north to one of several abandoned ruins and collect a relic. Fight well, fight fast, and do not hesitate to exterminate any Grmm in your path, or you will surely be killed. Staff members will monitor you during the course of your exam, but will not intervene unless the situation is irrefutably life-threatening. Those that distinguish themselves will be graded accordingly."
"Landing?" Arc's brain raced to catch up with his mouth- the blond watching in apprehension as an amused Ozpin smiled at him.
"Yes, Mr. Arc, you will be landing into the Emerald Forest, courtesy of..." He paused as Glynda tapped a sequence into her Scroll; the stone plate to his right rocketed forward and sent the Mistralian teen to his right into the air- "Those."
Jaune quickly looked down at his own plate as the realization settled in. He turned back to face a now-grinning Ozpin.
"Oh, you gotta be fuckin-"
The ground below him lurched skyward, and a sense of weightlessness followed suit, wind howling past him as the teen spun like a sock in a dryer.
A faint string of cursing could be heard as Arc's figure careened through the open air. Ozpin turned to Glynda and calmly spoke, "Like father like son, it appears I owe you that Lien after all."
Terra firma tumbled in and out of view as Jaune felt himself twist through the air, his hands slipping across his chest as he fought to grab hold of his shield and sword. Vertigo kicked in, Arc struggling to keep himself focused as the treetops approached faster and faster. His left hand found a firm hold of his shield, Crocea Mors extending out in front of him, his right hand bracing against it as impact began to grow closer.
He'd have to brute force his way through the canopy- the impact would be taken mostly in by his arms and upper body. Aura flushed up through his chest and into his arms, the blond tucking his lower body in as his shield aimed towards the first of the treetops. It would hurt like hell, but he'd be able to fight.
The first of the leaves whipped past his head, a dozen smaller branches splintering apart against the shield as he fell through the canopy line.
The world around him flipped over again as he impacted the first large branch, the air in his lungs forced out of him as he fought to keep himself upright- twisting his core to bring his face forward. Jaune's aura slowly extended narrowly as the foliage passed by, the sight of a wayward branch skyrocketing directly into his face crossing his line of sight from behind the shield.
Pain: sharp and stabbing, accompanied by a numb wetness pooling from his nose. Arc's senses were assaulted as his lower face cracked against the wood before his the rest of body tumbled through the foliage. His back took a glancing blow as he spun, shield ripped from his hands as its edge caught a trunk- with absolutely no control over his momentum Jaune was yanked ninety degrees as his BAR was torn from his back.
The ground was at him instantly- the blow softened only slightly by dirt underneath. Jaune lay there on the ground, spitting the crimson that had pooled in his mouth off to his side. After taking a few seconds to steady himself and wipe away the blood from his broken nose, his face and body were covered in flecks of sap, needles, blood, and small bits of wood. Arc took stock of his weapons, the BAR above him caught between two branches- its sling slipping out from under him as he fell. The shield of Crocea Mors was somewhere around him; he'd sworn he heard the damn thing impact the ground nearby.
Pistol, knife, and sword were accounted for.
Arc's heart pounded in his chest as he looked down at his right foot, feeling his ankle swell up into his boot; he'd definitely torn something. The cocktail of pain and vertigo finally won over, the teen spewing his morning eggs and coffee onto the ground next to him. Tears fell from his face, dripping into the sweat, bile, and blood from his nose. His good foot kicked off the boot, and after wiping away the discharge from his mouth, Jaune pulled a roll of compression wrapping from his rig before painfully sitting up and banding the joint.
The blond unsteadily forced himself to his feet, nauseatingly checking himself over as he fished into the trauma kit on his right hip. His knees screamed at him. They were likely bleeding. His ribs flared in pain with each breath he sucked down. The blond figured he'd likely cracked several after impacting with the ground. His arms were fine beyond some serious strain in his muscles- and outside of the tear in his ankle, his legs were okay, if not bruised to hell.
The student-to-be pulled out a few wrapped tablets, biting into the wrapping with his teeth and spitting the excess out. Aura boosters and some high-grade painkillers, they'd suffice. The meds went down dry as a set of footfalls in the distance brought him back from the pain-induced stupor, blue eyes scanning the treeline as he drew his sidearm from its holster.
He tried to stand on the bandaged foot, watching his vision darken as a jolt of pain arched up his leg. Without mobility, he was screwed... instead, Arc pushed himself upright against a collapsed trunk and waited for the meds to kick in.
A flash of black and white crossed between the trees to his one o'clock; Jaune quickly checked his handgun's chamber before tugging the eight-inch blade from his chest rig. A Grimm mask came into view from the right- Beowolves.
Jaune leveled the handgun at the nearest creature's head as it broke through the foliage.
Xiao Long might not have been the type to show her heart on her sleeve, but watching the same guy she'd possibly entrusted her sister's safety to be flung into the air at the drop of a pin gave her cause for concern.
Ruby had launched off perfectly fine, but by the time the blonde's own plate had sent her airborne, she'd already lost her sister's rose pedal trail. Her own trip through the forest treeline had gone off without a hitch, seamlessly firing off shell after shell from Ember Celica to slow her descent to the ground.
Now she was sprinting across the dirt towards the north, and Yang's mind focused on one thing alone: Finding her sister.
"Ruby! Ruuuby!" She called out aimlessly, pushing herself to move faster between the trees. Gunshots broke out to her east, rapid in pace but not fully cyclic, just maybe loud enough to be her sister's rifle. The brawler bit her lip, looking between the path north and the shots to her right. She couldn't risk leaving it unchecked; if it was Ruby, she'd never forgive herself.
Another shot rang out, whizzing past her head and impacting a tree off to her left. Yang quickened her pace, vaulting over a toppled tree and deeper into the forest. Her eyes caught a glean of metal between the vegetation. A heater shield lay flat against the ground.
A pair of low, inhuman growls pulled her attention away- the blonde turning to face a pair of Beowolves that had cut off her path back into the foliage. The left of the pair pounced at her, the blonde dipping out of the way as her wrists flicked forward, Ember Celica extending up her forearms and over the top of her hands, a grin forming across her face.
"Say, you two wouldn't happen to have seen a short girl in a red hood? Carries a scythe, loves cookies and comic books."
The unmoving glare from the Grimm gave her little to work with, the Beowulf on the right snapping its maw only a few inches from her face. The brawler's fists tightened as she dug her heel into the ground, sending a left hook into its ribcage and launching the blackened hound into a tree trunk.
"I'll take that as a no, then? Wonderful." Her lilacs landed on the remaining Grimm, the leftmost having recovered and launched off the ground again towards her throat, snarling as it closed the distance.
Yang leaned into her back heel, ducking under the initial swipe and driving a punch directly into the creature's lower jaw. The mask shattered from the impact, its head popping apart as the kinetic force drove the gauntlet's hammer forward- sending ten pellets of quadruple-aught buck into and through its skull. She grinned to herself, watching the two Grimm disintegrate, "Xiao Long two, Grimm zero."
Several howls split her celebrations short- this time from behind her. Yang pivoted on her heels, bringing her forearms up as her Aura flared around her. Between her guard, she momentarily caught sight of the new Beowolves: an alpha and three followers, moments before the larger of the Grimm slammed into her.
Her footing gave way and forced Yang to roll onto her back, pushing off the ground to dip out of the way of another slash of its claws. Her Aura flared up, absorbing a glancing cut from one of its spines. Xiao Long backpedaled, putting distance and time to think between herself and the fast-approaching pack.
The Alpha turned on a dime, breaking into a dash toward her- then to Yang's astonishment, the Beowolf's arm detonated to the crack of a gunshot. Then another, and another, each macerating the flesh and bone plating of its ribs and shoulder. The remaining two hurtled themselves towards her, traveling only a few yards before one slumped over dead, a massive chunk of its head disappearing into black smoke.
A blur of black, white, and blond erupted from the foliage and into the last Grimm seconds later, the figure in front of her digging a knife deeper into the creature's neck, the blond figure's body tucked into the crux of its shoulder as the blade ripped into the blackened flesh.
The blond's free hand came up, pressing the barrel of a handgun into its solar plexus before two deafening shots rang out, sending shredded chunks of dissolving sinew across his sweatshirt and the dirt around him. The Grimm went limp, and the blond tentatively got to his feet, wincing as he took a deep breath.
"Ah damn, I could have totally taken them..." Yang's voice petered out as she locked eyes with the battered young man in front of her.
A small grin broke out across Jaune Arc's face. Her fellow initiate was adorned with cuts and dents across his armor- pine needles, dirt, and pieces of wood coating his hair. His aura flickered vibrantly in midday- the boy looked like he'd been fighting nonstop since landing.
"Gotta admit, Arc, the pine needles really sell the look. Did you try to fight the trees on the way in?"
"Very funny; it's good to see you too, Yang." He chuckled softly and tucked his knife back into its scabbard, walking over to pick up his shield and secure it at his waistline, "Trees and Grimm. I knocked into a few limbs on the way in and ended up busting my ankle on landing. It's minor, nothing to worry about."
The girl from Patch raised an eyebrow at his last comment, mentally noting the boy's slight favoring towards his right leg.
"I was getting worried towards the end, figured all the blondes had been teamed up already. Glad to see I won't be getting stuck with someone like Schnee."
Yang found herself giggling, "You and Schnee? With how she's clawing at your throat since yesterday, I'd be surprised if you two made it out of the forest... besides, us blondes gotta stick together y'know?"
He turned back to her, taking the wood-furnished rifle from his back in one hand and extending out the other, "So, partners?"
A small smile grew across her face as Yang took the teen's hand and softly shook, "Partners."
"Wait-wait-wait... You're trying to tell me that you actually have seven sisters? I thought you were bluffing!" Yang's laughter filled the woods as the pair of blondes walked, Jaune grinning at his partner's reaction.
"Oh yeah, and all the trouble that comes with it. Sapphron's the oldest at twenty-four, followed by Violet, who's twenty-two and a half, then Bianca & Rose, my older twin sisters, and Blanche, who's only two years older than me. I got to look after Joan and Alezane growing up, Joan'll be starting at Signal next year, and Alezane's following her the year after." Arc brought Crocea Mors down through a patch of vegetation in his way, carving a path north toward the ruins.
Yang ducked under a branch he'd missed, her gauntlets clicking and retracting as the brawler switched the weapons onto safe, "Man, and I thought Ruby was a lot to handle growing up... What's your secret?"
His ankle was aching again despite the painkillers from earlier. His continued shifting weight on the ligaments created the feeling of uneven pressure. The sporadic gunfire to their northwest broke out again, this time followed by a series of small explosions. The pair's pace had been slowed as Jaune tried to work his aura to focus on the ankle.
Arc answered back, "Secret? Plenty of time alone studying, learning about history, and fighting. I remember using one of my Dad's old books on tactics to fight off Bianca and Rose. I used to hate it when they always tried pairing me off with girls in Cascadia. But, after crossing Sanus this last month, I think I've had my fill of isolation for a long time."
"Gee didn't realize I was talking with a former lady killer. Still, sounds like you made quite the character... Arc." Yang had craned her neck to look at him, a smug grin growing across her face.
The taller blond looked back to his female companion, his disbelief broken as a small laugh escaped his mouth.
A gasp of surprise was followed closely by a playful fist connecting with his left shoulder, "You actually laughed at that?"
"Cut me some slack, I haven't heard a pun like that in a Xiao Long time."
Jaune figured he had her in a corner until- without missing a beat, Yang came back swinging.
"Geez, tall, blond, and a punny guy? Tell Bianca and Rose to stop looking."
She might have stolen the line right out of Schnee's playbook, but Arc could still feel his face heating up at the joke. It was a nice distraction from the problems, but his focus quickly switched to the mouth of a cave opening up in their path. Heavy gashes cut through some of the rocks, paired with signage undoubtedly left by students of years past- there was something huge inside here.
He started towards the cave only for his partner's voice to call out.
"Remnant to Jaune? I thought the ruins were to our north. Y'know where all the gunshots are coming from?"
He slid his bag off his back, rummaging through his provisions and gear before pulling a series of raw dust crystals from his bag and a set of strings. Half a dozen fire, gravity, and wind crystals wrapped together with rope and duct tape; the shopkeep had told him days ago that it'd be one hell of an explosion, and Arc prayed the man was right. The improvised explosive must have been twenty pounds by the time he'd finished.
"Not yet, there's something in here; I'm going to fix that." Jaune could sense Yang's worry as she looked over his shoulder- tightening down the final knots around each of the oversized crystals, "Did Ruby tell you about what happened with me and the Vale-Vytal line?"
"Yeah? I got the Griff notes about it. Is that why you're fashioning a bomb in front of me?"
He felt the aura leave his ankle and wash forward around his hands, a small grin on his face as he looked back to the concerned face of his new partner. "The dust detonation gave me a couple of ideas, so I picked some of my own crystals up a few days before initiation, and figured I'd use 'em as a trump card. But this-" He hefted the improvised explosive in his hands before cracking the small chem light he'd had attached to his rig and fastening it to the bundle, "This is going to be so much more satisfying."
A small look of apprehension crossed Xiao Long's face as he started into the cave, the brawler following the bright yellow glow of Jaune Arc deeper into the underground chamber.
"Arc, I'm not sure whatever you're looking for is in here."
The Cascadian looked back towards his partner, "Yang, I built a bomb- can't you humor me for, like, five more feet?"
Instead of a quip, Arc watched the blonde's eyes grow wide with fear- bringing his own pace to a full stop as a soft chittering filled his right ear. A shiver of dread passed down his spine as he turned back to face the softly illuminated and slowly opening eyes of a massive Deathstalker. Moss and flora grew from the rifts between the creature's plating, intersecting with what must have been decades of battle scars coating its pale white carapace- its maw long since stained with what the teen could only hope to be a diet of the forest's animals.
A flash of gold slashed through the air above him.
Diving out of the way, Jaune's hand dropped to his sidearm as the Grimm gave off an unholy screech- the cry reverberating across the cave walls as its stinger pierced into the ground he had been standing on moments before. His pistol came up, squeezing off three rounds into its eyes- the overpressured hollowpoints slicing clean into and through the lifeless red orbs.
He just had to pick a fight with an Elder Grimm, didn't he?
From his right, a flurry of shotgun blasts echoed past him as Yang closed the distance, the blonde weaving under a pincer to deliver a jab promptly into the same appendage- the bone plating straining against the brawler's strikes.
"Jaune, whatever plan you had... do it now!"
Arc's aura pumped from his grip into the dust crystals, the bundle glowing brilliantly as his arm reeled back, ready to pitch the improvised explosive clear over his partner's head.
He just needed the right opening...
The blond caught sight of it as it happened, Jaune's body driving from his stance flash of gold swept towards the brawler, her attention still on the creature's pincers- she'd never notice the strike until it was too late.
Jaune's feet left the ground as he closed the distance to Yang, aura flooding his shield arm as it arced skyward with Crocea's defensive half deflecting the stinger- his arm kicked down as the shield threatened to leave his grip- a throbbing ache flooding across the limb.
Arc's preoccupation with the crystals disappeared with the strain across his arm, eyes cast down onto the stunned gaze of Yang as the world around him threatened to go black- Jaune pushed the initial shock and pain from his mind. Xiao Long had pulled the primed explosive from his free hand, pitching it across the cave and into the Grimm before taking his arm in a vice-like grip. The pair took off towards the mouth of the cave, Arc stealing a look back to watch the elder Grimm batter the bundle against the cave walls in its pursuit- the crystals splintering with energy as the mass of Grimm skittered towards them.
A few more feet then sunlight- the blondes each impacting the soft earth moments before the cave entrance shuddered and a shockwave roared over the pair.
In an instant Jaune could feel the air around him suck back down the mouth of the cave as it collapsed inward, watching as the hillside they had escaped from underneath crumpled to the sound of an otherworldly screech- a belch of fire lapping free from the cracks in the rubble. After a few moments he heard Yang push herself to her feet somewhere behind him- Jaune in turn forcing himself to stand with a grimace, his cracked ribs flaring up from the impact. A few raspy coughs left his mouth as he watched his partner shout a victorious jeer at the puffs of black smoke emanating from the pile of rubble where the cave once stood.
Yang stepped in front of him, gloved hands coming down firmly onto each of his shoulders, "That... was freaking awesome! Screw what that Schnee girl says; Dude you need to build more explosives!"
If nothing else, the blonde girl's enthusiasm was infectious.
The light taps of Gylnda's fingers against her PDA brought Ozpin out from his wandering gaze across the treeline, lulling over his coffee and setting it to his feet. In his tenure through dozens of lives across Remnant, Ozpin had become attuned to the patterns of mankind; sensing the slight shift as Gylnda's focus turned towards him. A small smile crossed the ancient man's face as his second-in-command walked behind him. As she did, he spoke, "I take it our final pairs have formed?"
"That would be correct, Jaune Arc and Yang Xiao Long, Taiyang's first daughter..." Glynda's voice seemed to trail off in trepidation.
Ozpin brought a hand to his chin as an asynchronous chorus of snaps and cracks from the initiates' weapons carried up from the cliffs below, "And you see that as a concern?"
"As much as it pains me to say, Yes I do. Regardless of his falsified documents and minimal combat experience, I fear the boy isn't ready, and the addition of a firebrand girl such as Xiao Long may be more of a damper to his development that a boon." Goodwitch hesitated, "Should we have provided a nudge in the partnering process, sent Arc closer to the landing zone of a safer option like that Nikos girl, she could easily foster—"
Ozpin was quick to speak over her, "We don't nudge anymore Glynda, nor can we afford ourselves the luxuries of safeness or the time needed to foster growth, not after how quickly we let it infect the circle. We know how that ended, a needless loss of life and faith from too many. Jaune Arc, alike his fellow initiates, must be challenged- forced to adapt to a threat far greater than they currently can fathom."
"I understand Oz, I just... worry."
"We all do, but we cannot allow our fear to outweigh our necessity in preparing these young adults for the eventuality of conflict. I had seen what a lack of preparation results in, when Vale itself nearly ceased to be..." Beacon's headmaster nodded softly, his eyes never leaving the forest's canopy, "Throughout the Great War, I fought alongside Julius Arc, it was not long after Vacou had run dry of blood and steel- we pushed the Mantelan and Mistrali back into the sea, and wherein the fighting I was killed. When I was incarnated again, the war was over, and Julius had since retired. But the stories remained, stories of a man who could spearhead a platoon of men against a company of Mantelan and win through sheer violence of action alone- of a leader who in the darkest of hours of the war, as Vale waged our pyrrhic guerilla war, he produced some of our finest victories unaccompanied by the losses we'd grown numb to. The man had a gift."
Ozpin had since picked up his coffee from the grass, taking another drink, "The young Arc is the first I've seen in his line since to possess this same gift, the gift of aggression. It may not be as tangible as young Ruby's own gift, nor as concentrated as say, a semblance. But believe me, it is a gift. Jaune would have been long since torn to shreds or killed by bandits if he'd hesitated, dared to waiver, to stop and overthink. The boy has the potential to be as crafty and deadly a tactician as exists in this world, but it must be something learned through the strain of clear and present adversity."
A pause overtook the two as the headmaster dwelled on the days long since passed, his mind cast back to the era of STRQ and ARSL, of the falsehoods and nudges he provided to his students. The betrayals he'd fostered at no fault but his own.
"We cannot afford to generate falsehoods anymore, the truth must be our paragon now. Send a message to the council, let them know Operation Frostfall will be in full effect."
Holy hell, I'm back. And with a double-chapter release, nonetheless! I originally wanted to cram Initiation into one big kickass chapter but after several bouts of writing block, editorial rewrites, and college taking precedent, I had to defer and step back for a bit. But, with it, we now have PARTNERS. I think that for two characters who (on-screen) have so little time together, Jaune and Yang have the potential for a solid dynamic, one I hope I can build on. And speaking of Yang, fun fact, those details for Ember Celica's ammunition were a pain to get accurate for a hypothetical 3.75" 8 gauge magnum shell's 0000 buckshot pellet count. To quote my Beta Reader, "Lmao did you know that packing spheres into a cylinder is a PHD/research level optimization problem?" and my own response of "It fucking WHAT. They're SPHERES. Why would that be so hard?" (Thank you, Kohago and the Halo Wiki)
And no need to worry, review responses for chapter six will be at the end of chapter eight.
Anyways, feel free to leave a review with any questions, comments, or feedback you've got for me. Everything and anything helps.