CHAPTER ONE
He couldn't exactly complain on his choice of team mates… but he could (at the very least) not take his mind of the oddness of the members that comprised the team.
His team was... odd.
A quiet war hammer wielding pink themed ginger girl, an excitable Mistralian Gun-Fu practitioner and a red head that practically oozed anti-social behaviour...
... and himself of course... the guy that was supposed to lead this mismatched band of misfits... with girls on it.
To be fair though, he had nothing against Nora... but red headed females were automatic red flags for him, no questions asked.
He felt his thought process shrinking and his vision become less animated and more bland.
He needed a joint.
A quick glance at his Beacon issued scroll confirmed the figures given to him by his internal clock.
It was four forty five AM, the perfect time to smoke a joint in peace and not worry about snooping soon-to-be proselytized 'humankind preserving' youths.
Better described as 'canon fodder' for simplicity's sake.
His fanny pack was exactly where he left it (on his waist of course) and with a minute flex of his aura, he cleared his system of the incoming effects of his post high.
Appreciation or not, he always thought that aura was a cheat code in life... and if there was one thing he enjoyed abusing the shit out of, it was cheat codes.
The dorm room slid shut with a poltergeist-esque hiss and he found himself wandering through the lone corridors of Beacon's dormitories.
He counted a total of four minutes and twenty three seconds of power walking between his dorm room and the rooftop of Beacon's dorm wing, and promptly shelved it away into the murky recesses of his mind as a titbit of info he could potentially use in the future.
That was the future; he was more interested in inflating his brain cells now.
.
.
.
Truth be told, even as he rolled the crushed/dehydrated leaves in rolling paper, he felt a foreign aura attach itself to his aura imprint on the door.
He only gave thought to it after the third puff.
Aged, refined, experienced, convoluted, possessing a heavy note of melancholy in conjunction with a warped sense of duty and...
... well that was a surprise.
Jaune liked to think of himself as a proper judge of character, and in a way he was.
He could figure out the true nature of human and faunus alike based on their aura after all.
He also knew that beneath physical appearances, the human psyche could be a very dark place... in a way he could actually get around the saying 'don't judge a book by its cover'
So he wasn't all that bewildered from the read of the aura source behind him.
He took a long puff... and turned around to face his unwarranted guest... unwarranted in the loosest of terms of course.
"I didn't expect to get a one on one encounter with the headmistress till third year" he felt the words roll of his tongue without the usual restraint and he made a mental note to rein in his tongue before it put off more words than he would like as he got his high.
The headmistress of Beacon academy stood (in perfect posture he noted) with fingers intertwined before her and an amiable smile on her lips.
"Life hardly plays us the hands we expect Mr. Arc"
His stare went flat at the corny sounding line and released the thick smoke into the air, "Is there a reason why the headmistress herself is on the roof? Please don't tell me it's because you enjoy the company of grass addicted first years, I might just lose my eyeballs from how hard they're going to roll"
"For one whose psyche profile describes as a quiet introvert , you sure are talkative this night Mr. Arc" the headmistress noted in her calm lethargic tone.
A tone that got under Jaune's skin in more ways than he was comfortable to count.
He took another long puff, and turned to the direction of the Emerald forest.
...
...
...
"I don't know whether to be impressed or a bit suspicious at how good my luck is..." The headmistress began slowly.
The blonde snorted, expunging smoke from his nose, and turned to face her once more.
"Lemme guess, impressed that you got the seemingly better end of your little pro quid pro program that your running with my family and 'He Who Shall Not Be Named'..." He took another puff and the headmistress frowned slightly, "... suspicious because you think that I must be a shadow agent of sorts. Am I right or am I right?"
She wanted to say that he sounded smug... but his psyche profile didn't correlate with that line of reasoning.
"You are correct"
He nodded, "A'ight"
The silence returned.
Perfectly manicured hands brushed through long locks of platinum blonde hair in thought , "... say, Mr Arc?"
He looked up from the joint he was rolling.
"How would you feel like giving me a personal demonstration of your... hm... abilities?"
He stared at her, features devoid of expression as he lit his joint.
"Could you at least have the decency to let me finish my blunt?"
.
.
.
"Hmm... Porta dear, could you release the A class Grimm into the Emerald forest, I feel the sudden urge to... ahh, exercise some bones"
Jaune finished yet another joint as the remains Ursa's and Boarbatusks dispersed like black smoke into the night air.
'This lady talks funny, more accurately she sounds like someone with a whole lotta screws lose'
He discarded the stub and took a sip of purpp from his canteen.
He needed to keep things slow after all.
He felt the earth around him rumble and with a quick flex of his aura and leg muscles he leapt out of the way of the full grown tree that was hurled at him.
A loud trumpet of rage filled his ear drums and he blinked a little in surprise...
'Okaaaaaayyyyyy... maybe I should dispel the effects of the lean a bit'
Trees and chunks of earth where thrown asunder as a full grown Goliath charged at him full speed... he popped the stiffness out of his neck (mostly for dramatic effect) and returned the charge.
Few feet to impact, he sidestepped and grabbed unto the left tusk, his feet dug into the earth, his blinding white aura lit up the dark night then he tugged.
With a sickening squelch the ivory-esque appendage was ripped off, sending hot oil black fluid splashing all over his hoodie and the green grass below.
The Goliath skid past and turned back whilst shaking its head as maddening brain wrenching pain shot up its head. Baleful red eyes glared at him with astounding hatred and prepared another charge...
... only to collapse on its fore and hind legs as its own horn went through its left eyes, moving slickly through with hardly any resistance to stop its penetration until it met the back of its skull.
...
"... Well what do y..." the blonde was cut off as a fist made contact with the small of his back sending him flying, a flight that was cut short as he slammed face first into a tree.
Cracking and breaking noises echoed through the area as the tree he collided with went down.
The blonde rolled out of the way of another fist that made contact with the earth where his head once rested. Getting on a knee, he faced his new opponent.
The Beringel snorted aggressively and charged... only to be whipped into a tree as well by a tendril of white aura... breaking said tree as well.
The Arc realigned his nose with a sharp tug and spat out the accumulated blood in his mouth, the tendril of aura went back to its point of origin at the back of his waist and with a flex of his aura, his facial injuries rectified themselves.
His body glowed white as he picked a fallen tree... and promptly punted the disoriented demon Gorilla across the forest with his new make shift club. Without pausing he continued his swing , spinning a full one eighty degrees and punting the second Beringel into yet another tree... which the natural thing and fell as well.
Because why the hell not?
He walked up to the new Beringel and, readjusting the orientation of the tree for horizontal to vertical, buried the Grimm by plunging the tree into the earth with the creature directly underneath it.
He sidestepped a feather missile, a sidestep that turned into a roll to avoid the barrage of missiles that came his way from the Nevermore ahead.
With a sliver of effort, he felt his aura pool into his right palm forcefully causing said palm into white flames, he pointed his fist at the Nevermore as it circled him overhead and unclenched it into an open palm sending a white hot conflagration at the Raven-esque creature.
With a screech of pain, the creature fluttered about wildly as it was cooked alive by the unrelenting flames. Dozens of burning white sharp feather were released with reckless abandon sending the blonde diving underneath the still dissolving body of the Goliath for cover.
Said cover came alight with white flame as well sending the boy scurrying out for new cover... an action which was moot as the burning Nevermore crashed in the distance in a big ball of white flame.
An acrid reptilian stench filled his nose and before he could react, he felt his hands compressed to his body as the King Taijitsu wrapped him up with the two heads bearing upon him with venomous intent.
He shut his eyes, held his breath and brutally suppressed his aura, counting to backwards from three, he ignored the approaching snake like heads before unleashing his aura full force.
Bits and pieces of the King taijitsu were thrown far and wide as the sheer concussive force of the aura being released ripped it (and the surrounding area) asunder.
More trees collapsed.
An abominable hissing /screaming sound reached his ears and he took note of the pack of Creeps creeping up on him...
... he would have to archive that in his book of Puns.
Aura pooled into his hand once more, more focused than erratic this time, and he threw the resultant sphere at the approaching Grimm.
The sphere blew apart on contact with the leading Creep, ripping the limbs off of the surrounding Grimm in the process.
The Arc went low to avoid the vicious claw swipe of the Beowolf that attempted to blindside him, retaliating with a vicious uppercut that made contact with the creatures groin area, leaving a fist sized hole in the creature that extended far up into the lower belly regions of the creature.
Jaune wiped the black ichor off on the fur of the already dissolving Grimm with a disgusted grimace on his face.
He took a mental survey of the battleground and decided that it wouldn't hurt if he finished off the pack Beowolves that took interest in the commotion.
He'd go back to his dorm after that...
... after one more joint of course.
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"How'd you like the show ma'am" Jaune asked, voice dripping with poorly restrained sarcasm.
"Ahh... it was... hmm... an enlightening experience"
He felt his left brow twitch in irritation at the underwhelming review of his combat prowess... the blunt at hand seemed more interesting than going off on a tirade at the moment so he ignored the headmistress...
... and took another puff.
"Hmm... I don't think I've seen anyone consume as much cannabis as you in the span of twenty four hours before" she noted conversationally.
He gave her a deadpan look, "Considering my existence is doomed to shitty servitude geared towards the 'good' of a race of pathetically whiny, self destructive, self serving shits that see themselves as more relevant than they actually are, forgive me if I find it fit to indulge myself in a bad habit or two to push the sheer shittiness of my fucking like situation"
"Hm... duly noted"
She rubbed her chin delicately and he took note of the sheer number of rings on her fingers... he was too high to count them though, but they sure were a lot.
The headmistress hummed softly, before turning to make her leave.
She stopped at the door, "Ahh... Mr Arc, I find that it helps operations of the sort that you have been chosen to embark on with me, to an extent of course, if a sense of familiarity exists between us..." she paused to shoot him a glance over her shoulder.
He stared expectantly as tufts of smoke escaped his nose.
"... you can call me on a first name basis if it would help you feel more comfortable in your new role, and for what its worth, welcome to the Inner Circle Jaune Arc"
The headmistress left.
He discarded the stub of his blunt over the edge of the building, "If you say so... Salem"
AN: Sup? So if you're a long time viewer of this fandom, you might understand why I skipped initiation. That segment becomes tiring to see over and over again... but the beginning chapters of every combat oriented RWBY fanfiction has got to have fight scenes am I right?
So you have this... See you next time.
Please review... or don't... I mean, it's your keyboard.
Personal Fact: Did you know that the most ridiculous thing that pisses me off about RWBY fanfictions is the referring to huntsmen and huntresses as hunters?