I like the movie Equilibrium. A lot.
The Gunslinger
Jaune was holding two, high caliber, semi-automatic pistols, one in each hand. He was standing in the shooting range, his own team, team RWBY and a few other teams at his back.
Looking over his shoulder, he could see Ruby mouthing 'I'm sorry' at him. Just behind her, he could see Cardin Winchester and Russel Thrush taking bets. He could guess it wasn't about how many targets he'd hit.
To his surprise, and a small amount of dismay, it looked like Weiss was getting in on the action.
Jaune thought back to how this all started.
It had been less than thirty minutes ago, when Ruby and Weiss had been discussing the various uses and disadvantages of guns, in battles. It was getting kind of… intense.
"Jaune!" Ruby said suddenly, "What do you think would be better? Semi-auto or full, when using a handgun?"
"Oh, please," Weiss drawled, "He barely uses a sword and shield, Ruby. Like he'd know anything about guns."
The blonde boy frowned, letting his tray hit the table between the two of them somewhat loudly.
"Actually, I'm a pretty good shot, back home. I didn't bring a gun here because, really, it seems like the only kinda gun that does more than annoy the Grimm are ship mounted cannons," he said.
"Blasphemy!" Ruby all but shouted, slamming her hands into the table. Weiss glared briefly at Ruby, then at Jaune again.
"She is right," she held up a hand when Ruby opened her mouth to speak, "barely. Guns have proven useful, or Huntsman and Huntresses wouldn't use them."
"Okay, let's think back to initiation," at this point, both teams were listening, "When you used Crescent Rose on the Deathstalker and Nevermore, what happened?"
"They bounced off, but they have-"
"Really tough hides, I know. So do Ursas. Your weapon is really high caliber, and it was only an annoyance, Blake and Ren's weapons wouldn't even do that. No offense, you two," they just shrugged and he continued, "Now, guns work on the smaller and weaker Grimm, like the Beowulves, but you don't use ammo on them, why?"
"Because I can just cut 'em up!" Ruby said proudly. The whole table nodded along, it was common sense, after all.
"So, we have now established that guns don't work on the big ones, and you simply don't use 'em on the small ones. So why do you have them?"
"For Rogue Hunstmen," Pyrrha answered immediately.
"Not really," Jaune shook his head, "it's the same thing, kinda. Even Hunstmen and Huntresses in training can tank shots without too much trouble. They only bother dodging them to preserve aura. Guns are about as useful as throwing rocks, at least, when it comes to the duty of a Huntsman or Huntress."
There was silence for a moment, then Cardin, drawn by their conversation, spoke.
"Yeah, right! Just 'cause you can't shoot straight doesn't mean any of that is true," he crossed his arms.
Jaune frowned and said, "Like I told Weiss. I'm pretty good with guns, they just don't work for Huntsmen."
"Oh yeah?" The large teen grinned, "How 'bout a little demonstration, then?"
"Huh?"
"Yes," Weiss agreed, "I refuse to acknowledge anything you've just said, unless you are willing to prove your supposed adequacy with a gun."
"That hardly seems-"
"Ah, c'mon, Vomit Boy," Yang urged, "What's the harm in showing off a little? Unless you can't." Her grin was challenging.
Jaune looked around and could see all of his friends looking at him expectantly. He sighed, shaking his head.
"Fine, whatever," he shrugged.
Now, here he was, gun in each hand. He took a deep breath, eyes closed, visualizing each shot.
In a flash, he swung up his right hand and fired once. There was a ringing sound and he pressed the button to bring the target in.
There was a hole dead center of the target.
"Good enough?"
"Not hardly," Weiss told him, arms crossed.
"Gah, fine!" He turned to her team leader, "Ruby, please set out all the targets."
The younger girl used her Semblance, activating all the targets on the range. The watchers waited while they all went to the end, and Jaune set up seven clips for the pistols on each side.
Finally, he took another heavy breath.
His hands flew up and gunfire became a constant noise, almost no time between shots except when he stopped and reloaded, each time faster than the last as he brushed the dust off.
After nearly two minutes of firing at the targets, Jaune set the guns down and started pressing the recall buttons in each of the ranges.
All of his observers were shocked to see that every target had a hole, dead center, then each individual target had a shape shot into them with bullet holes. A star, a square, a triangle, and so on, until they came to the very last one, the furthest from his position, which bore a bullet hole smiley face.
"How about that? Is that acceptable?" there was silence across the board, then Nora surged to her feet.
"Wooh! That's our fearless leader!" She pumped a fist into the air and hooted again, celebrating his small victory.
Pyrrha, Ruby and Yang were the next to stand to their feet, cheering and clapping. Ren gave him a silent thumbs up and Blake appeared to be studying the target boards.
Weiss and Team CRDL were silent, but their mouths hung open. The rest of the students started cheering with his friends.
"Mister Arc, why have you never demonstrated your ability to use firearms like this?" Glynda Goodwitch asked.
The moment her voice sounded the whole room was silent again. They had not known she was there.
"Oh, uh, hi, Professor," Jaune nervously scratched the back of his head, "Uh, how long were you watching?"
"From the beginning. A crowd of students this large draws attention. I followed to make sure all safety measures were observed. Now," the woman slapped her crop into her free hand, "Why haven't you used firearms in your spars?"
"Well…" once more, the teen explained his reasoning.
"Sound logic, but flawed."
"Ha!" Weiss said, feeling vindicated. She was silenced by a look from Professor Goodwitch.
"What do you mean?" Jaune asked.
"First, are you half as accurate with moving targets?" She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Better," he said without hesitation.
"Could you shoot my crop, even if I was waving it around?"
"Uh?" Jaune tilted his head to one side, "Maybe? I've never tried anything like that."
"Perhaps it's time you did. I need a volunteer!" She turned back to the rest of the students gathered on the shooting range.
"Eh?!" Jaune had been confused, now he was bordering on fearful. The last thing he needed was another pointless spar, showing everyone how weak he was.
"I volunteer," his feelings of inadequacy did not wane in the slightest when Weiss stood up.
"Good," Professor Goodwitch nodded then turned back to the young man before her, "Mister Arc, equip yourself with those weapons, and prepare for a fight. Your goal will be to disarm Miss Schnee, using only firearms."
"Ah, hell," he groaned.
A little over four minutes later, the two of them were in the arena. Glynda had a stone cold look on her face as she explained the usual rules.
"Miss Schnee, Mister Arc, are you both ready?" They nodded and she stepped out of the ring, "Begin!"
Blamblam!
No one moved. Hell, they hardly breathed. As soon as Goodwitch said begin, Jaune shot Myrtenaster, Weiss' Rapier, and made it just barely tumble out of her hand. A second shot hit the very butt of the sword, sending it into the wall behind her.
"Uh, do I wi-woah!" He was launched into the air by one of her glyphs, and she dashed for her sword. The moment her hand came close, Jaune, still flying through the air, opened fire. Three shots, three hits. Wrist and both knees.
The heiress hit the ground, crying out in pain. Roughly at the same time, so did Jaune, rolling to a stop, just at the edge of the arena. He got back to his feet, checked the aura meters and was surprised by how low Weiss' was.
"Is there something different about these pistols, Professor?"
"What do you mean, Mister Arc?" Goodwitch raised an eyebrow at him.
"Why did they hurt Weiss so much? My dad showed me-" he froze in the middle of his sentence, and glared at his hands for a moment, "Son of a bitch! I forfeit!" He then ran over to Weiss, skidding to a stop, "Weiss, I'm sorry! Please, believe me, I didn't mean to hurt you! My dad, the bastard, he-"
"Arc!" She barked at him.
"Er, yes?"
"I get it. Your father is a callous, manipulative reprobate. So is mine," she narrowed her eyes at him, "Don't even think of using that to try and date me. I only mean that, this," she gestured at the quickly swelling welt on her wrist, "is going to be alright. This was a spar under controlled conditions. I will be fine, and you have proven you have a respectable level of competency in at least one field of the life of a Huntsmen."
"What is it you were saying, Mister Arc?" Professor Goodwitch asked him.
"My dad," he growled out the word, "He doesnt want me to be a Huntsman. The one field I thought I was okay at were these," he flicked the guns, "But he convinced me they were useless by having me shoot him. He tanked a full clip and caught the others.
"He's the reason I don't use them," the last part was a feral growl.
"And that is point number two," the professor began, "The number of Huntsmen and Huntresses that can simply brush off gunfire is miniscule. I could not do such a thing. If you'll think back to it, most of the sparring in my class, the firearms are only used to herd opponents, very rarely do any of them actually shoot at their opponents with the intent to hit them."
"I understand, Professor," Jaune said with all due seriousness.
"Good," she nodded briefly, "That said, I can say with confidence that none of this year's crop have your accuracy, particularly with moving targets. Once a day, you will be allowed to use firearms in my class. We wouldn't want to let your swordsmanship fade. You are finally showing promise."
"I understand," he said seriously. He, of course, gave his awesome partner a look at that praise. She was, without a doubt, to thank for his progress.
That said he turned to Weiss again, who was now standing and trying to pull Myrtenaster from the wall.
He walked over, gripped the handle and pulled it out, with a bit of effort, then handed it to her, hilt first.
"Are we… okay?" He asked nervously.
"Will stop your incessant flirting?"
He sighed, "Yeah. I'm sorry."
"Then, yes. We are okay," she took the sword, and pat him on the back as she walked towards the stands.
-909
A/N: I couldn't think of what else to put here, so, once more, here's an extra scene.
I do not own RWBY.
I can't be the only one who noticed this. I can't be the only one who looked at the word choice. Thing is, I haven't seen anyone say word one about it.
I guess I should, then.
The Words
Jaune's face twisted into rage and he turned to look at Oscar, housing the spirit of Ozpin. He started to take a step forward, his hands clenched into fists.
Then he stopped. His hands loosened, but his glare remained.
"Tell me again," he turned back to team RWBY, "Tell me, word for word, what she said. What she told Ozpin. What did he ask? And how did the Jinn respond?"
Ruby blinked, looked to her sister, then said, "He asked how to defeat her, Jinn said she said she can't be."
"No," Weiss shook her head, starting to understand, "No, he asked,'How can I defeat Salem?' And she responded with, 'You can't.'"
Jaune's face lost the frown and he gave a half grin, "Whoo, for a second there, I thought this was hopeless."
"What?" Ruby almost yelped, "She can't be defeated! Jinn said so!"
"No she didn't," the blonde boy said, "She told Ozpin that he couldn't defeat her. I don't know how or why, but the former headmaster can't beat her. One of us, though?" He looked from Ren and Nora to Yang, Blake, Weiss and Ruby, "We won't know until we try."
"But-"
"I think he's right."
It wasn't Weiss, or even Blake who said this. It was Oscar.
"We can all agree that that guy, Ozpin, he's got some issues. I mean, he's hiding from you all because you found out the truth. What I've felt…" he sighed, "Oz is arrogant. He was sent here to end Salem. When he was told he couldn't, he assumed that no one else could, either. Afterall, he was strong and smart and could use magic. Ozpin is immortal. If he can't do it, how can anyone else?" the boy shrugged, "That's what it feels like, at least."
