-(=RWBY=)-
Chapter 2
-(=RWBY=)-
Class subsequently passed without as much drama or excitement as before – since no other person had a burning hatred of anyone else, and since no duel save Pyrrha's turned out as one-sided as his.
Goodwitch took notes throughout the class, and promised that she would, by day's end, send each of them detailed suggestions on how to improve; she also encouraged everyone to ask her if there was something about her suggestions that they did not understand.
Since most of the fights didn't last too long, class ended up finishing a little early. A quick jaunt back to the dorms let them change out of combat gear and into their formal school attire, and then, while his team and RVLY headed off for lunch, Jaune made his apologies and excused himself – so as to go off to the library, where he had business.
No matter how much he might have enjoyed it, combat class was but one part of the Beacon curriculum; there were also more academic subjects, ranging from Grimm studies to history to logic.
It was that last subject which had brought him to the library; the professor had assigned some reading that students were encouraged to complete before the first lesson, but Jaune had failed to do so yesterday – what with the brutal argument with Weiss, followed by him throwing himself into training his newly-unlocked aura.
The library, as it turned out, was no less imposing than the combat arena. With tall shelves stretching from floor to ceiling, and books as innumerable as the Grimm, there seemed enough knowledge here to last a thousand lifetimes.
As it happened, Jaune was only interested in one particular book. After locating the Philosophy section, and trawling the section with authors whose name started with O, he found what he was looking for –
An Introduction to Reasoning, by Ozpin.
Jaune sighed.
Choosing an empty table and chair in the middle of nowhere, Jaune got down to reading, and...
... found himself pleasantly surprised. Ozpin was an engaging writer, and the subject matter was interesting in its own right – from the different modes of reasoning, to the types of logical fallacies one could fall prey to, to the sorts of heuristics and cognitive biases that existed.
Time flew, as it did, when one was suitably engaged, and soon enough Jaune had blown right through the introductory chapter. With some reluctance, he stopped; that was the prescribed reading done, and he didn't want to risk being late to his next class.
The book was interesting, however, and he decided it would make good recreational reading. Taking out his scroll, he opened the Beacon app, and navigated to the Facilities page and then the Library sub-page. Once there, he selected the check-out function and scanned the matrix barcode on the book.
Now able to bring the book out of the library without setting off every alarm in the place, Jaune made for the exit –
– only to stop short.
Sitting silently some distance away was Blake Belladonna, leaning back on her chair and utterly absorbed in reading a book.
Jaune hesitated, for a moment, but then steeled himself and began walking over to where Blake sat. Emboldened by that morning's success with Pyrrha, he decided not to be too hung up about the disastrous conversation at the cliffs, and instead make a second effort at befriending Blake.
Blake evidently sensed his coming, for she gave a visible sigh, and gently put her book face-down on the table – though still holding onto it, and never letting its pages slip close.
Not a word spoken, and already things weren't going well – clearly Blake expected to get back to her reading soon, and didn't want to speak for long, if at all.
"Hi, Blake."
"Jaune."
Blake's reply was neither friendly or hostile; it was just his name, said neutrally.
"Sorry for bothering you while you were reading."
"Yet here you are anyway."
Jaune ignored that passive-aggressive sally, in favour of laying out the substance of what he wanted to say.
"We had a bad start yesterday, and that's my fault. I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for any offense I gave. I hope that you can forgive me, and that we can become friends. My mother always tells me –"
The mistake caught in his throat, and he corrected himself.
"– always told me that strangers are just friends you haven't met. And at a pragmatic level – we're stuck with each other for at least four years, if not more, and I don't think we can be an effective huntsman team unless we like and trust each other, right? "
Blake listened in silence to what Jaune had to say – never interrupting, and never interjecting. And even once he was done, she didn't respond immediately, instead taking a few seconds to gather her thoughts – and only then, saying,
"If you're worried about yesterday, don't be – it's not a big deal to me. As for being friends... take this from someone who has experienced more of the world than you. We can be an effective team without being fast friends. We need to work together, yes – but that doesn't mean liking each other. When the huntsmen of Vale joined together to stop the last titan-class Grimm invasion, did they have to like each other? When SDC security puts down rioting miners, are the Schnee footsoldiers all good friends? And do you think everyone in the White Fang sits around holding hands and singing songs – or are they professional enough to put aside their differences for the sake of a common purpose?"
Jaune drank in Blake's words. She was cynical; but that wasn't the same as being wrong. And, reading in between the lines, he could surmise that Blake wasn't interested in becoming friends – a fact he sought explicit clarification on, just to be sure.
"So I guess you aren't really looking to make friends with your teammates?"
"No, not really. Don't take it personally."
Jaune scratched his head, and his frustration must have leaked out onto his face, for Blake frowned – very slightly, and almost imperceptibly, before she smoothed her face into her usual mask. And with a tone on the edge of being biting, she said,
"No one is entitled to anyone else's love, or friendship. And when a person doesn't understand that..."
Blake trailed off. Her hand unconsciously clenched and unclenched, even as she herself looked into the distance, seemingly lost in thought.
Jaune could vaguely sense some sort of personal issue at play, and knew better than to press the matter. Rather, the rational, the mature thing to do was just to say –
"I understand. I hope we can work well together, then, even if we aren't friends."
Blake was drawn back to reality by his words, and she quickly nodded.
"I look forward to us working together."
No smiles were exchanged, and no hands shaken; instead, Jaune gave a nod and Blake returned it.
Then she went back to her book, while he turned and left.
Jaune couldn't say he was happy; but he supposed he wasn't too upset either – despite his mother's optimistic words, you couldn't really make friends with everyone.
And if the wonderful thing Team RVLY had with each other was denied him...
... well, he would live with the disappointment; and it wasn't as if his happiness had been his highest concern since that day long years ago.
Jaune headed to the dining hall to grab a sandwich, which he then ate en route to the strange location where the upcoming Introductory Reasoning class was going to be held.
The building in question was a cylindrical-shaped structure perhaps five storeys tall, and located in the middle of a small lake. The lake itself was linked to a river which flowed westwards, where it would eventually merge with a larger river before pouring off the cliffs of Beacon in a beautiful, cascading waterfall.
As Jaune crossed the sheltered, high-roofed bridge that led over the small lake and to the building, Jaune noted how unwelcoming the structure appeared – with its smooth and dull-grey walls, and utter lack of windows.
If the place seemed like a disused prison, then that was because it was one – a fact Jaune discovered for himself once he entered.
Cells lined the whole circumference of the building, from first floor to fifth. A wide, open area dominated the middle of the building, and from the slightly elevated platform located at its centre, one could see every last corner of the building – be it the corridors running the circumference of the place, or each and every cell door.
Jaune's classmates had arrived before him, and were seated in some rickety old chairs arrayed upon the platform in a circle. And at the centre of that platform –
– the most beautiful woman in the world stood with arms folded.
Her black hair fell loose and carelessly to her bare shoulders. Her blood-red dress clung to her body even while stopping well above her knees, and in every curve it highlighted and in everything else it hid, there was only the caress of temptation and the hot whisper of sensuality. Her face, pale and perfect, elegant and ethereal, seemed almost too beautiful to be real.
Her eyes, though –
– her golden eyes burned like the sun, utterly pitiless and impossibly intense.
It was that intensity which finally broke Jaune out of his stupor, though not before his gawking irritated the woman – the professor – and moved her to snap,
"Stop staring and sit down, Arc."
He swallowed, and complied.
Blake soon joined them, and that was all of them. It was a small class for that afternoon, Jaune remembered – just his team along with RVLY and CRDL.
The mysterious woman, whom every boy present probably wanted to date, and whom every girl in existence wanted to be, began the lesson by introducing herself.
"My name is Cinder Fall. You may address me as Professor, Professor Fall, or simply as Ms Fall."
Unspoken was the warning not to be overly familiar. It was a warning that would be heeded, Jaune suspected. For all her beauty, she was a professor, and radiated danger besides. He highly doubted that any boy – or any girl – would be foolish enough to try and befriend her, let alone flirt with her.
Professor Fall was continuing her introduction.
"I am, at Headmaster Ozpin's personal request, here to teach you how to think, and reason, and know. You might think this a waste of time, so let me disabuse you of that notion through three ways. First, by showing you this."
Fall withdrew from a dress pocket a small golden medallion, and raised it up for all to see.
! ! !
Pyrrha gasped, Ruby squealed, and Cardin near toppled out of his chair when sheer amazement made him jerk up from his slouch.
And Jaune couldn't blame them – he was pretty damn shocked himself.
Ruby, meanwhile, was letting her excitement run away, and she all but babbled –
"Ohmygod you're a Champion I can't believe you're teaching us how awesome is that –"
It took Yang leaning over and gently putting a finger over Ruby's mouth to quiet the younger girl. As for Jaune, however – puzzlement and confusion was starting to overtake both his initial astonishment and sense of awe.
Ruby, of course, was right – the golden medallion meant that Cinder Fall was a Champion; an individual huntress so powerful she had been recognized as such by her Kingdom's Council, and been designated a national military asset.
That golden medallion which Fall was carelessly holding up to the light – that thing was proof that its owner had the power to single-handedly best titan-class Grimm. In the event that Goliaths and the like massed against the city, it was Cinder Fall and people of her calibre who were going to be on the frontlines, turning the tides of battle and giving heart to the city's defenders via the display of sheer inhuman power.
Which was why there was something deeply, deeply wrong with this whole situation.
"This can't be right."
Those words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could control himself –
– and Cinder Fall's golden eyes turned upon him.
"What can't be right, Mr Arc?"
Neither his brain nor mouth seemed to be working, until seeing Cardin smirk at him from the corner of his eye pushed him to stop being an idiot. Marshalling his thoughts, and putting them into words, Jaune said,
"Apologies, Professor. All I meant was – going by your accent, you're Mistralian, and given your power, you are going to be one of maybe three people capable of holding back the Grimm if they do collapse upon the cities of Mistral. That being so, like, why are you here?"
Jaune didn't mean to sound accusing, but that was the way it came out. Almost stumbling over his words, Jaune rushed to say –
"I mean to say, you're essential to Mistral's national security, right? – so why would Headmaster Lionheart and the Mistralian Council risk the city, and the country, by countenancing you moving here and teaching us... reasoning?"
And it wasn't like Vale needed any defending; both Headmaster Ozpin and Deputy Headmistresses Glynda Goodwitch were Champions in their own right, and with them permanently stationed at Beacon, the city was always protected.
"There's more to you being here, isn't there?"
Jaune concluded with that question, and then fell silent.
The class, he realized, had shifted into an air of thoughtfulness – his reasoning had struck a chord.
Professor Fall, meanwhile, only raised an eyebrow, and commented,
"Interesting thought, Mr Arc. But worry not – smarter people than you are paid to think about the security of the Kingdoms. You, perhaps, should concentrate on your studies. Still –"
The professor looked around the class, the burn of her gaze sweeping each student in turn.
"– Mr Arc is not wrong in one respect. A person like myself is vital to humanity's efforts in keeping the Grimm at bay. My time is precious, and measured in terms of lives saved and deaths averted; for every moment I spend at Beacon is a moment not spent hunting Grimm who could otherwise slaughter villages. And yet here I am anyway, teaching you. That should show you how much importance Professor Ozpin places on this class, and on you learning how to think and reason effectively. I trust, therefore, that you will give my lessons your fullest attention."
"Yes, Professor!"
The chorus of agreement spontaneously broke out, as the class was newly apprised of just how much was being sacrificed to afford them this opportunity to learn.
Fall gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, before continuing.
"Of course, you might still doubt the usefulness of what you will learn from me. So let me just say this.
"I have torn apart Beringels with my bare hands. Reduced Goliaths to ash and cinder, with but whispered words and the snap of my fingers. Seen, and survived, ancient powers capable of bringing down the sky and making even death die.
"In other words, I am one of the most powerful beings on Remnant. So believe me when I tell you that there are some monsters that mere might cannot match; some problems that force cannot solve; some evils that all the power in the world cannot vanquish. Sometimes, instead – you must resort to thinking, and be clever about things."
There was real emotion – even if greatly restrained – behind the words Cinder Fall just spoke.
And Jaune... was conflicted. Rationally, he knew she was right – power was not a panacea, and only an idiot would think it possible to punch one's way to paradise, or to a world free of death and discrimination and deprivation. But, at an emotional level – Jaune had seen, with his own two eyes, what power could do to protect, and how the lack thereof caused suffering and death.
Professor Fall was glancing over the class once more.
"Perhaps you still doubt my words. So allow me to demonstrate the truth of what I say."
Fall casually waved her hand through the air, as if in emphasis.
"Scenario one. A small village in southern Anima has recently seen an uptick in Grimm attacks – and to make matters worse, a bandit tribe was reputedly spotted in the area."
"You and a team of fellow elite huntsmen are deployed to the village. However, upon arrival, you find the village destroyed, the inhabitants dead and Grimm wandering the place. The challenge now is to identify whether it was purely a Grimm attack that caused this tragedy, or if bandits had first attacked the village, with the Grimm only pouring in later. If the former, there is nothing to be done. If the latter, you will need to hunt down the bandits and eliminate them.
"Naturally, your team examines the villagers' remains. Unfortunately, they yield no information of value – the Grimm have so thoroughly ripped apart the bodies that one can barely identify them as human, let alone tell the original cause of death. How, then, do you identify the party responsible for the village's destruction?"
Her description of the scenario complete, Cinder Fall folded her arms, and awaited an answer.
All around, everyone was frowning – either in puzzlement, or because they were deep in thought.
Jaune brought fingers up to rub at his temples.
Think, think.
His mind went back to what he had read at noon – Ozpin's Introduction to Reasoning, and how it emphasized the way inference to the best explanation could arrive at the truth. If something was true, what else would have happened? And if something were false, what wouldn't they observe?
So – if indeed the bandits had attacked, what would have ensued?
Well, surely they had attacked for a reason – to get dust, and vehicles, and of course food. They would have –
"The granary! We should check the granary!"
Jaune blurted out the answer he had arrived at.
Professor nodded, in the closest thing to approval one seemed to be able to get from her.
"Correct. If it were bandits who had attacked, they would have raided the village's granaries for supplies, leaving nothing behind; if it were Grimm, no such thing would have happened, and what grain the village had would still be rotting away there. Scenario two –"
There was no rest, as Professor Fall began posing the next question.
"Your team has been charged with culling the Grimm in eastern Vacuo – specifically, area VC-51-63. You are encamped on the slope of a small mountain overlooking the desert, when one moonless night, the Grimm pour in from the west onto your position. You have a fight on your hands.
"One of your teammates suggests splitting up, and holding your own positions rather than fighting in a single place. In support of this suggestion, he cites statistical evidence that teams which adopt such a strategy are approximately twice as likely to fend off Grimm hordes in the open wilderness.
"Assuming the statistic is accurate, do you adopt such a strategy?"
Silence reigned, and Jaune himself was momentarily stumped. It took some time for the complete answer to dawn on him, and by then –
"Professor Fall!"
Weiss Schnee's hand had shot up, while the girl herself had a look of unbridled enthusiasm on her face.
"Miss Schnee."
Fall acknowledged Weiss with a nod, and that was all the permission Weiss needed to launch into her proposed explanation.
"We ought not adopt such a strategy, Professor, because correlation does not entail causation. That is to say, it may not be holding separate positions per se which causes a more successful defence against Grimm hordes. Instead, it could well be that certain teams – perhaps those specializing in area of effect abilities – choose such strategies so as to not hurt each other with crossfire, and also achieve greater success by virtue of such crowd-control abilities."
A nod from Professor Fall indicated the accuracy of Weiss's answer.
"Correct. Scenario three –"
Again, Professor Fall wasted no time in moving on to the next question.
"You are a consultant retained by the Atlesian military. General James Ironwood has personally asked that you and your team of analysts look into improving Atlesian armour, so as to reduce fatalities and casualties.
"A comprehensive survey of existing Atlas troops suggests that the most commonly damaged part of a soldier's armour are the armguards and the leg greaves. This being so, it seems commonsensical to simply up-armour those parts, and protect these commonly-attacked areas from damage.
"Is this an optimal design choice?"
Jaune felt his eyes narrowing, as the answer came to him swiftly –
– but Blake Belladonna beat him to the punch.
Almost hesitantly, she raised her hand, even as she said,
"It's sub-optimal, Professor. The reason existing soldiers' armour are damaged in those areas is that these are the soldiers who survived; the ones unlucky enough to have been shot in the head or chest are dead, and aren't available to answer any survey. Therefore, it would be silly to focus on improving the armour on a soldier's arms or legs – those aren't the parts where a well-placed shot is fatal."
Professor Fall nodded as Blake finished her explanation.
"Correct."
And to the class, she said,
"Very good, all of you. I am impressed at the intelligence on display. Perhaps this will not be a complete waste of my time, after all.
"Now – to the lesson proper. We shall a play a game called Beowolf; have any of you heard of it?"
Everyone shook their heads, except for Weiss, who nodded. The class's ignorance of the game did not seem to surprise Professor Fall, who merely went on to explain –
"Beowolf is a game of deception, played between two groups: innocent villagers, and murderous Beowolves. The Beowolves masquerade as villagers during day, but then transform into their lupine form to kill villagers at night. The villagers do not know who the Beowolves are – as they are otherwise indistinguishable from a human – but can, during the day, vote to lynch people suspected of being Beowolves in disguise. The conflict, in essence, is between an informed minority – the Beowolves – and an uninformed majority – the villagers – with both sides seeking to kill the other before they themselves are killed.
"The villagers have a further advantage, however – for some of them have special abilities. There is the Sage, who can use their power during the night to identify whether a particular individual is Beowolf or human. And then there is the Huntsman, who can protect any individual – aside from himself – from being killed by the Beowolves at night. And finally, there are the Partners, two villagers who know for certain that the other is a human.
"The game plays out in two phases: day, and night. During the day, everyone discusses matters and then may vote to lynch a single person – and if that person is a Beowolf, they will transform back into their lupine form upon death. Meanwhile, during the night, the Beowolves will come together and choose a single villager to kill.
"That's the game – no more, no less. Kill, or be killed. Win, or die."
Professor Fall wrapped up her explanation of the game with that pithy summary, and then – with a few deft taps of her scroll – sent an email pinging off to everyone's scrolls.
"In the message I've just sent, you will find a recap of everything I just said, along with additional details – the most important of which is the fact that, given the twelve of you, there will be three Beowolves and nine villagers. Take ten minutes to familiarize yourself with the game, and then plan out a strategy. After that, we begin."
The buzz of excited conversation immediately rose to a pitch, as everyone started animatedly discussing the game they were about to play.
Jaune, however, immediately pulled his scroll out and got down to re-reading the rules. Weiss, he noted – through the corner of his eyes – was doing much the same.
After making sure that he knew the parameters of the game like the back of his hand, Jaune pivoted to hurriedly searching the internet for discussions of Beowolf and the optimal strategies one could employ.
This game was, ultimately, not much different from sword-fighting, or so Jaune thought. You had to read your opponent and make the right choice accordingly. You didn't play the game; you played your enemy.
Professor Fall called time, and once everyone put away their scrolls and ended their chatter, the she said,
"Within the Beacon app, go to the Classes page and then the Introductory Reasoning sub-page. Select the last button, entitled Beowolf."
Jaune did as he was told, as did everyone else, and a page with nothing but a vaguely ominous wolf symbol popped up onto his screen.
"I will be running the game, and communicating to you through this particular program, as such."
In demonstration, Professor Fall spoke the latter part of her sentence into her scroll; and correspondingly, her voice echoed clearly from every student's own device.
"Privately messaging one another is prohibited. I am able to tell if you navigate away from this program's page, and will suspend you from the game. Now, follow me."
Cinder Fall led the class of twelve towards one side of the former prison, and it was then Jaune realized the reason their class was being held in so strange a location.
"Each of you is to enter a cell; the relevant cell number will be displayed on your screen."
Jaune glanced at his scroll, and saw that he had gotten cell one, located right next to the entrance. He headed there, and nodded encouragement to Pyrrha as he did; she looked somewhat stressed out at the change of pace this class had proven to be.
The automated cell door slid open at his coming, before closing once more upon his entering.
Absolute silence settled over the cell – and it didn't take long for Jaune to realize that the walls were sound-proof. And –
Jaune cocked his head, and concentrated on sensing any nearby auras, only to get nothing.
The walls were aura-absorbent as well, it seemed – a useful ability, for a prison, for it made locating and breaking out any particular prisoner all the more difficult. Professor Fall, it seemed, had taken advantage of this feature to run her game – one couldn't just cheat by sensing who was leaving their cell during the night phase.
And speak of the devil –
Cinder Fall's voice, amplified by the silence it broke, spilled from his scroll.
"Students, look to the screens of your scrolls, and you will see your role for this game."
Right before his eyes, the wolf symbol dissolved, to be replaced by big, bold letters.
SAGE
Well – that was interesting.
Jaune's mind whirled, and he began adjusting his strategy, even as Professor Fall declared –
"The first day begins. Everyone, leave your cells."
His automated cell door, presumably under the Professor's control, slid open, and Jaune joined all classmates in stepping out.
Almost unconsciously, everyone fell into a circle formation. Jaune's eyes flitted from face to face throughout, trying to suss out who looked suspicious – but no one seemed to be acting out of the ordinary.
Weiss took the lead, by declaring,
"As the only one with prior experience at this game, I believe I should provide leadership to the village, so that we can beat the Beowolves in our midst. You need not trust me – only listen to whatever I suggest, and then decide for yourselves whether they make logical sense. That sounds reasonable, at least to me – unless someone else has a better idea?"
Some people didn't seem convinced, but on the whole the group seemed inclined to support Weiss, as cautious nods and assenting murmurs met her suggestion.
Jaune himself schooled his face carefully, even as his mind raced through the implications.
Weiss, he knew, was going to have an outsized impact on the game. She was clever, she was assertive, and she seemed to be taking this game very seriously indeed. If she was a villager, she would provide valuable strategic guidance to the village in hunting down the Beowolves while avoiding mis-lynches; but if she herself was a Beowolf in sheep's clothing, she could absolutely destroy them by directing lynches against the innocent and away from her own cabal of Beowolves. Weiss, in short, could be a powerful asset – or a deadly threat.
The million lien question, then, was –
Is she a Beowolf?
It was hard to say. Coming out like that painted a target on her back, for the Beowolves would want to eliminate strong players capable of guiding the village. That Weiss chose to assert herself nonetheless could indicate that she was a Beowolf who didn't have to fear being killed at night...
... or it could just be her ego guiding her actions; Weiss, from what Jaune had gathered of her, would never be content letting others take the spotlight, even if that was the optimal strategy to undertake.
Even as Jaune was thinking things through, Blake spoke up and pushed back against the girl she so deeply disliked.
"How typical of a Schnee to think that they have a divine right to rule, while others should bow down and follow."
Upon hearing this, Weiss made a garbled sound of indignation, but Blake only plowed forward.
"I wouldn't necessarily trust Weiss. She might be a Beowolf, and with her greater experience at this game, she'll be able to make any arguments for lynching even innocent people sound very reasonable and very convincing – and we'll never be able to catch her out, since we aren't knowledgeable enough to identify the deeper flaws in what she says. Maybe someone like Ruby won't be able to fool us and string us along – but someone like Weiss Schnee can."
"Why, you!"
Blake, as Jaune thought, would be another important player in the game – on account of her cleverness, and the way second-guessing the motives others seemed to be second nature to her in a way it wasn't to the likes of Pyrrha or Ruby.
As for whether she was a Beowolf or villager – as with Weiss, it was hard to say. She had to know that making such an argument, and in so a provocative manner, could not fail to trigger an acrimonious quarrel. Since sowing dissent and making things devolve into chaos weakened the villagers' ability to work together, that could indicate that Blake was a Beowolf...
... or it could just mean her profound dislike of Weiss triumphed her desire to win; that was more than likely, and certainly Jaune himself wouldn't have prioritized a game over sticking it to a person whose family was notorious for mistreating his whole race of people.
Regardless of Blake's motives, an all-out argument seemed imminent, and Jaune was forced to step in.
"Come on, fighting is counterproductive. I have a number of suggestions."
Both girls glared at him, which was still a step in the right direction, as it meant they were no longer on the brink of shouting at each other.
"Firstly – those of us who are villagers should, going forward, pay attention to voting patterns. Say we're about to lynch a person for being suspicious, but they escape when others come to their defence – and say this keeps happening. The suspect is probably a Beowolf, and his fellow Beowolves are likely amongst his defenders.
"Secondly – the Beowolves are likely to want to kill prominent players who show cleverness and leadership capability, but they will also eventually pivot to leaving a trail of misdirection leading away from themselves. Don't be fooled by this. Say that two people are at each other's throats – could be Weiss and Blake, or me and Cardin – and then one of the two are eaten at night. That causes suspicion to fall on the other party, but remember – the Beowolves aren't so stupid as to kill off people they were arguing with during the day, and there's a good chance that someone's being framed.
"Thirdly, and possibly most importantly – the Sage, whoever you are, should obviously not reveal yourself right now, since the Beowolves will just eat you; rather, keep your head down and focus on using your power to confirm who else is a human. Concentrate on confirming the identities of people who are likely to survive. The goal is to build a list of confirmed, surviving humans, because once you have such a list and you're in the majority of remaining players, you've basically won. You can lynch the remaining unconfirmed players, one by one, until the Beowolves are dead. It doesn't matter if some within your majority die at night, because at the rate of one lynch a day and one murder at night, you'll always have at least one vote more than the Beowolves, and you'll always control the lynch. Simple enough, right?"
The end of his long explanation was met by nods – and Jaune was relieved. His goal here was threefold. One, to get the villagers to adopt an effective strategy; two, to garner trust so that he wouldn't be lynched; and three, to make himself such an obvious target for the Beowolves that the Huntsman would come to the same realization and choose to protect him at night.
Cardin, however, threw a wrench into his plans.
"Tch, Arc, what a nerd. I bet you read all of this up on some gaming forum. But why are you telling us this, huh?"
Cardin glared around the circle, as he let that question sink in.
"Don't all his suggestions double as warnings for the Beowolves? Like, now they know that they have to be careful with how they vote if they want to avoid outing themselves. Also, didn't like Arc just pre-emptively cover his ass in case I get eaten, with all that nonsense about how if two people are fighting and one gets killed, the other might be being framed? And all that stuff about the Sage – couldn't that be a trick, too? What if he comes out later as the Sage, and then with his Beowolf buddies and a couple of villagers who don't know better, just lynch the rest of us?"
Jaune's narrowed eyes betrayed his frustration – Cardin couldn't have ruined his plans more perfectly if he was actively trying to. Of all the times to show that for all his brawn he didn't lack brains, Cardin just had to pick now to do so.
The really frustrating thing, however, was that Jaune couldn't say for certain whether Cardin was Beowolf or villager. He could be the former, and trying to actively ruin Jaune's attempt to guide the village...
... or Cardin could just hate him, and be a villager all the same. It was the same dilemma that was inherent in the dispute between Weiss and Blake – there were perfectly good explanations for their actions, regardless of their true alignment.
Lie Ren chose that moment to intervene.
"I believe that Cardin isn't necessarily wrong to suspect Jaune, but Jaune's suggestions are logical and have merit regardless of whether we trust him. I do think we should observe how people vote, since that is the only way we can identify a Beowolf. I am also of the opinion that we should not rush to judgement in the event that, say, Blake dies and Weiss is suspected – since it will always be riskier for a Beowolf to kill off their direct rival than to focus on other villagers. And finally, I would like to register my support for Jaune's proposed strategy for the Sage – it is how we are going to win, and we just need to ensure that the Beowolves are not in the assembled majority."
Jaune nodded gratefully.
Of the players who had spoken, and who were likely to go on and influence the game – Weiss and Blake, Cardin and Ren – Ren was the one he hoped was human the most. Cardin hated him, while Weiss and Blake were too caught up in mutual mistrust to lead the village effectively – but Ren, with his intelligence, impartiality and calmness would be a valuable ally.
That Ren had defended him wasn't evidence of his alignment one way or the other, however. He could be a villager speaking up in honest support of suggestions he thought reasonable – or he could be a Beowolf wary of supporting Cardin and getting Jaune lynched, when this would cause suspicion to rebound to him after Jaune died and was revealed to be human.
"Students. Time is short, and you must now vote."
Professor Fall, who had all this while been watching expressionlessly from the sidelines, called the discussion to a close, and opened the floor instead to votes.
"We should lynch Arc."
Cardin made his view known – to no one's surprise – and his team immediately backed him.
Eager to avoid getting dogpiled – and unwilling to reveal his identity as the Sage so early in the game – Jaune had no choice but to target Cardin in turn.
"And I vote against Winchester."
As expected, Pyrrha, backed him. Blake, too, cast her vote against Cardin – doubtlessly not out of any liking for Jaune, but due to the Winchester family's infamous reputation for anti-faunus bigotry. Weiss, meanwhile, voted for Jaune, all the while frowning.
The decision ultimately came down to Ren, whose team looked to him to take the lead. After weighty consideration, he said,
"I do not believe there is strong reason to think either Jaune or Cardin are Beowolves; in fact, I think it more likely that those who are avoiding attention are the ones we should suspect. But if it is a choice between the two... I believe Jaune has been more useful, and so I shall vote against Cardin."
RVLY proceeded to vote the same way as Ren, and the final vote came out as 7-5 against Cardin.
The larger boy shook his head in disgust, while Professor Fall stepped in once more to direct the game to its next stage.
"Mr Winchester, please return to your cell, where you will stay for the remainder of the game. You may watch and listen to any discussions happening out here on the screen of your scroll."
Cardin stood, scowled, and gave a parting shot.
"I'm a human, and you'll find out soon enough. Arc's the Beowolf – lynch him next, or you'll lose."
He walked back to cell, glowering all the while. Once his door slid close, Professor Fall proclaimed –
"Mr Winchester has been lynched, and his body remains human."
Jeers erupted from the remaining members of CRDL, while Ruby gave a loud exclamation of dismay – and Jaune could feel the noose tightening around his neck. He was going to be the prime target for lynching the next day – and he really needed to have a persuasive case ready for why he should be spared.
"The first day ends. Please return to your cells."
Everyone headed back. Once within the silent confines of his cell, Professor Fall spoke through the scroll.
"The first night begins. Beowolves, leave your cells. Any villagers with special abilities may also exercise them now."
The wolf sigil on his scroll faded away, replaced by the images of his classmates.
Jaune had some thinking to do.
As per the strategy he had suggested to everyone, he – the Sage – needed to build a list of confirmed, surviving humans. And while Jaune really wanted to know whether he could trust Ren, he was a poor choice to use his power on, for his intelligence and assertiveness made him a prime target for being killed – if not tonight, then in the coming nights. The same reasoning applied to Weiss and Blake – the Beowolves would want to eliminate those other two potentially influential villagers, and if the Beowolves thought the Huntsman likely to prioritize protecting Ren, they would almost certainly eat one of Weiss or Blake, and then manipulate the village into lynching the other the very next day.
In short, Ren, Weiss and Blake all had poorer than average odds of surviving till the endgame – the safer choice, with respect to building his list, was hence someone not so prominent. It was also preferable that the person in question have no obvious link to him, so that that if he ever had to come out as the Sage, the Beowolves couldn't just whittle down his list of confirmed humans by going after people he would likely have prioritized checking – people like his own partner, for example.
Pyrrha was definitely out. Instead, he chose –
Ruby.
On his scroll, Jaune tapped at his new friend's face; and, when a message popped up asking for confirmation, he tapped Yes.
Villager.
Jaune nodded with grim satisfaction.
This was good – for it was the first step forwards getting his confirmed majority of humans. If his skill was equal to the task of identifying probable humans during the second day's voting – or, if the village got lucky and the two Partners survived past the second night – the confirmed majority could be assembled as soon as the third day.
The downside, however, was that he now had no guarantee against being lynched. Had he found a Beowolf, he could always resort to revealing his own identity, getting the discovered Beowolf lynched and then rely on the Huntsman to protect him.
Now, though...
Jaune brooded over the range of possibilities and permutations facing him, and the question he kept coming back to –
How smart are the Beowolves?
If he was overestimating their cunning, he was only going to get lynched for his efforts. Unless –
Oh.
Jaune grinned.
A plan came to him, elegant and beautiful and breathtaking in its audacity – and Jaune knew that he wasn't abour to lose.
"The first night ends. Beowolves, return to your cells."
After a short pause, Professor Fall spoke again.
"The second day begins. Survivors, leave your cells."
His door slid open – which meant Jaune had survived the night. This was expected – for the Beowolves wouldn't have wasted their kill on someone they thought likely to be lynched soon.
Jaune walked out, and fell in with everyone else to form their circle. And the one person conspicuous in their absence was –
– Nora.
Ren was frowning, and Jaune found his own brows furrowing as well.
Nora made no sense as a target – or did she?
The answer dawned on Jaune, slowly but surely.
From the point of the view of the Beowolves, Ren was the most dangerous villager in the game. As the only influential villager not tarnished by suspicion or mistrust, he was probably going be protected by the Huntsman for the foreseeable future. And while Ren would lose that protection as soon as Jaune himself came out as the Sage and the Huntsman switched to guarding him, the Beowolves didn't know that. They couldn't risk Ren being the Sage, and him being protected as he built up a list of confirmed humans – so rationally, they would go after the villagers whose identities he would prioritize checking.
People like his own partner, of course.
But –
– Jaune's more sceptical side could not help but play the devil's advocate, and it occurred to him that Nora's elimination could well mean that Ren was a Beowolf tying up loose ends; getting rid of his childhood friend and long-time partner, who could well tell if he was acting strangely or hiding something.
Jaune shook his head; these thoughts were pointless, and nothing would change what he needed to do now.
Ren cleared his throat, and everyone turned to him.
"Unfortunately, it seems that Nora had been eaten. But we must proceed with the game – Jaune, do you have anything to say for yourself? After Cardin turned out to be a human, you're naturally under the most suspicion – but I think it's only fair you get to argue your innocence before we move to a formal vote."
Jaune nodded his thanks, and played his trump.
"I'm the Sage –"
Ren perked up in interest, but looks of suspicion were what predominated in most people's faces – no doubt, to them, this looked like a desperate and futile attempt to escape lynching.
"– and I want to ask everyone, who wants to be checked and confirmed as human?"
The world seemed to freeze, just for a moment.
And then Ren's hand shot up, with Weiss's and Blake's not far behind. Soon enough everyone else followed suit, as understanding spread through the class like wildfire, and as everyone came to the realization that keeping one's hand down was as good as an admission that one was a wolf.
Some people were faster on the uptake; others slower – but Jaune didn't care about any of that, instead focusing everyone's faces.
An innocent villager, even if slow to react, would only look mildly perturbed – after all, what did they fear from being checked by the Sage?
A Beowolf, in contrast, would look alarmed and panic-stricken – which was exactly the face Russel Thrush was giving as he raised his hand.
He managed to school his expression eventually – but it was too late.
Jaune wasn't the only one who had noticed – others had as well, particularly Blake, who pounced.
"Thrush, I've seen literal criminals look less guilty than you."
The wiry boy was now frozen – unable to speak, unable to act. It was only after long seconds that he shook his head, collected himself, and tried to mount a belated defence.
"No, wait – Jaune's the Beowolf; I'm the Sage. He got Cardin – an innocent villager – lynched yesterday, and now he's trying to skirt the blame by pretending to be the Sage."
It was too little, too late – abstract reasoning, particularly anything this as weak, couldn't convince others of your innocence once they had seen the guilt in your face. That momentary mistake, that one unguarded expression, had led to absolute self-incrimination, and now there was no escape.
Weiss sighed in disgust.
"This is a farce. Let us lynch Thrush first, and if he turns out to be human, then we lynch Arc tomorrow. Agreed?"
The group gave its assent, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Dove Bronzewing and Sky Lark were none to eager to lynch their teammate and friend, but had no real argument against the cold, clear logic of Weiss's proposal. Yang, meanwhile, seemed positively bloodthirsty, as she cheered something along the lines of string him up!
Jaune, of course, was more than happy with what Weiss suggested, and said as much.
"I agree with Weiss. Let's just vote, we'll have the truth of it. But let me just add just one thing – once I'm confirmed as the Sage, I would like ask that the Huntsman protect me both tonight and for the rest of the game."
The final vote came to 7-3 against Thrush, and Professor Fall promptly sent him back to his cell, before announcing –
"Mr Thrush has been lynched, and his body turns into the corpse of a Beowolf, before dissipating completely."
Some cheers broke out, driven primarily by an enthusiastic Ruby, before Professor Fall brought things to a close.
"The second day ends. Please return to your cells."
It was with deep satisfaction, at a plan well made and a job well done, that Jaune returned to his cell.
"The second night begins. Beowolves, leave your cells. Any villagers with special abilities may also exercise them now."
Jaune took stock of thing. There were nine players left – seven humans and two Beowolves. In terms of building his confirmed majority of humans, Jaune was still some distance away – for he could only really be certain that Ruby and himself were innocent.
The vote from that day, and the Beowolf kill from the night before, however, were great potential sources of information – he just had to think things through.
On the night kill, and Nora being eaten – Jaune was, after further reflection, somewhat surprised. He would have expected the Beowolves to go after either Weiss or Blake – after all, if they were both humans, killing one and framing the other would have deprived the village of two influential villagers.
That such a thing hadn't happened would therefore mean that it wasn't the case that both were innocent villagers. If at least one of them were a Beowolf, in contrast, then everything made sense – they couldn't kill their rival, even if said rival had the potential to provide clever analysis and proper guidance to the village, since that would just implicate themselves.
Jaune didn't have a clue who was the Beowolf – Weiss, or Blake – but in terms of whom to investigate, it didn't matter. Since his goal was to build his list of confirmed humans, it just meant that it was wiser to focus on people other than the two of them.
Jaune moved on to thinking about the events leading up to Russel Thrush being successfully lynched.
A simplistic analysis would straightforwardly suggest that everyone who voted for the Beowolf to be lynched was an innocent villager acting in good faith, while everyone who voted to protect Thrush was potentially a fellow Beowolf – but this was, Jaune thought, clearly wrong.
After all, both Weiss and Blake had voted to lynch Thrush, and at least one of them was a Beowolf – and in general, it wasn't hard to imagine Thrush's fellow Beowolves throwing him under the bus once it was clear he was a lost cause. Indeed, the fact that Dove and Sky stuck with their teammate made Jaune inclined to think they were villagers; had they been Beowolves, they would surely have been strategic about matters, and turned against their compatriot to protect themselves.
In the end, Jaune made his choice –
Dove.
He tapped at the boy's face on the screen of his scroll, and then pressed to confirm.
Villager.
Jaune rubbed his chin.
This was good to know, and brought his list of confirmed humans up to three. The question now was whether he ought to try and initiate the endgame come the third day. On the one hand, he didn't have a clear majority yet; on the other hand, tarrying too long would result in his confirmed humans being picked off. He also had to worry about whether the Huntsman – and, by extension, himself – would last for many more rounds.
Perhaps it was time to call out the Partners and ask them to identify themselves. If they were both alive, the game was all but won; and if they weren't –
Another glorious plan came to mind, and Jaune knew – victory was going to be his.
"The second night ends. Beowolves, return to your cells."
After giving enough time for the Beowolves to return, Professor Fall spoke again.
"The third day begins. Survivors, leave your cells."
Jaune's door slid open; it seemed the Huntsman had done his job.
The cell next to his, however, failed to open – and it was apparent that Pyrrha had been killed that night.
Jaune was pleased – both with events, and with himself; the former, because both his confirmed humans were alive; the latter, because he had the foresight to avoid wasting a confirmation check on Pyrrha. It was inevitable, once he came out as the Sage, that the Beowolves would go after his partner – the person whose identity he would naturally check before anyone else's.
The remaining players formed their circle once more, though with eight of them it was much reduced from the first day.
Jaune moved to take control.
"I have good news. I have confirmed enough humans that I think the village can win today."
Weiss didn't seemed impressed – and neither did Blake. They both frowned, and Jaune could almost see them turning the numbers around in their heads, and seeing how they didn't add up.
Without giving them the chance to object, Jaune continued.
"I can declare that I've checked Ruby Rose and Dove Bronzewing, and confirmed that both are humans."
Ruby looked surprised, but pleasantly so.
"Yep, I'm human, that's me!"
Dove, more reserved, nodded his confirmation and gave a terse,
"Yeah, of course."
Jaune now looked around, and asked,
"I would like to request that the Partners reveal themselves – or, if one of you is already dead, just reveal you yourself."
A beat.
Then, Weiss, Ren and Yang all raised their hands simultaneously, and all hell broke loose.
"What the hell?"
"Don't be fooled by her! She's lying."
"I can confirm that Weiss and I are the Partners."
The cacophony got worse as Blake sniped at Weiss, while a confused Ruby raised her voice and asked how there could be three Partners.
Jaune thought that the Professor might have stepped in then, to restore order, but when he turned to her, she only stared back impassively.
Jaune sighed. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to shout –
– but Blake got there first.
"ENOUGH!"
Her voice was neither deep, nor strong – but there was an authoritative air about it nonetheless.
Blake, Jaune realized, was someone who was used to command, and to having her orders obeyed. There was history here, but Jaune had no time to think too deeply about it, for the girl in question turned to him and said,
"Jaune. Proceed."
"Alright. Thanks, Blake."
He turned to look at Weiss, Ren and Yang.
"Weiss and Ren – you two say that you are the Partners, right?"
"That's what I said, Arc."
"That's correct, Jaune."
"And Yang – you say you're a Partner as well?"
Yang nodded, and replied,
"Yep, with Nora, but then she got eaten."
"Thank you. Here's why the we humans have won. We just need to lynch Yang."
Yang looked ready to protest – with her fist – but Jaune held out a hand, and moved quickly to explain.
"If Yang turns out to be a Beowolf, then Weiss and Ren must be telling the truth, and we have five confirmed humans in myself, Ruby, Dove, Weiss, and Ren. Then, even if one of us gets killed tonight, the remaining four can lynch Blake and Sky over the fourth and fifth days until you get the last Beowolf. Even if you initially mis-lynch on day four, the remaining Beowolf can only bring the humans down to three people during the fourth night, and by the fifth day you have him dead to rights.
"And if Yang turns out to be a human? Well, then Weiss and Ren are lying, and we have five confirmed humans in myself, Ruby, Dove, Blake and Sky. Same principles apply – even if one of us gets killed tonight, the remaining four can lynch Weiss and Ren over consecutive days, because they can't kill us fast enough before we kill them."
After Jaune finished his explanation, Yang looked suitably impressed, and Ren seemed thoughtful – Weiss, meanwhile, was apoplectic, and it didn't take a genius to tell who had been the Beowolf all along.
"Good work, class. A credible first attempt at the game."
Professor Fall chose that moment to step in. A casual tap of her scroll caused the eliminated players' cell doors to open, allowing Pyrrha and the others to rejoin the class. The Professor then asked,
"Can anyone – besides Mr Arc, Miss Schnee or Mr Ren – tell me why the latter two chose to identify themselves as the Partners, despite the risk of lying and being contradicted, as in fact happened? Yes, Miss Belladonna?"
Blake had put her hand up almost immediately, but now put it down once more, before saying,
"Because if they let Yang identify herself unchallenged, the humans would have had four confirmed votes out of eight. In such a scenario, it wouldn't have been difficult to persuade at least one of the other two real humans, whoever they were, to vote with them.
"With this majority, Jaune could have directed the lynch against the most suspicious individuals – Weiss or myself. As many of you must have realized by now, the fact that neither of us were dead by the third day was a strong indication that one of us was a Beowolf. Had we both been villagers, the Beowolves would have killed one of us, and framed the other. That didn't happen, of course, because one of us – Weiss – was a Beowolf, and couldn't risk bringing suspicion upon herself by killing me.
"Keeping this in mind, the humans would have voted to lynch either myself or Weiss. If they choose correctly, and Weiss is lynched and revealed to be a Beowolf, I am cleared – giving the humans a solid majority of five, which can proceed to lynch the remaining two unconfirmed individuals and eventually get Ren, the last Beowolf.
"If the humans chose incorrectly, and I am lynched, that complicates things. Weiss would of course be outed as a Beowolf, and Jaune could investigate the identity of one of the two remaining unconfirmed individuals – Sky or Ren – and by process of elimination determine who was the remaining human. Assuming the Huntsman still lived and protected him, Jaune would out Ren on the fourth day, and the human majority could proceed to lynch the Beowolves accordingly."
"If the Huntsman were dead, however –"
At that point, Pyrrha gave an embarrassed wave.
"– then Jaune would die. After lynching Weiss on the fourth day and having another confirmed human killed that night, the fifth day will see two confirmed humans, and two unconfirmed individuals, one of whom is a Beowolf. At that point, I suspect the confirmed humans will have a better than even chance of winning – I think Sky was obviously the less suspicious one, given how he defended Russell when a Beowolf would have just cut his losses and let his ally die."
Blake paused, and frowned, before concluding with –
"Ultimately, not identifying themselves as the Partners would have been a better strategy, but I believe Jaune set the trap well, and put enough pressure on Weiss and Ren that they didn't have time to think things through. The situation probably reminded them of what happened on day two, when Russel outed himself, and so they made a snap decision – wrong on hindsight – to pretend to be the Partners."
It was a long explanation, but correct, and Professor Fall rewarded Blake with a nod that could almost be considered approving.
"Good. Now, not that this game matters in any objective sense of the term, but if you enjoy both it and the intellectual challenge it brings, I encourage you to play it in your own time.
"In terms of how each of you might improve – for most of you, who did not participate very much, you might consider reading some general strategy guides online.
"As for those of you who did participate – Mr Winchester, you must realize that this is a ultimately a social game, and if the majority is composed of people who are not inclined to like or trust like you, then you must adjust your strategy according. Miss Schnee, your attempt to take control of the game at the outset was a high-risk one incommensurate to the dangers it posed to you as a Beowolf; it was ultimately your downfall and I would not recommend using such a strategy as a rule. Mr Ren, you were excellent at avoiding suspicion, but remember that your ultimate goal as a Beowolf is to kill the villagers, and that this sometimes means drawing suspicion. Miss Belladonna, you were too passive; from the analysis you just provided, I believe you could have contributed more to the game, had you let yourself. Mr Arc, you made an excellent comeback, but it was a hole you dug yourself into in the first place – a Sage should not draw attention to themselves in the early game, and you cannot always rely on clever tricks and the mistakes of others to succeed."
The class listened intently to Professor Fall's advice, and Jaune found himself nodding along, even to the criticism directed against him. It was true – on hindsight, he blundered by exposing himself too early.
The Professor checked her scroll – probably for the time – before turning her attention back to the class.
"I hope you enjoyed the game, but more importantly, I hope you learnt from it. Throughout the game, you would have been trying to identify the truth – particularly, whether someone was human or Beowolf. To that end, you would have made analyses such as, 'If either Weiss or Blake were a Beowolf, that would explain why both are still alive; the Beowolves can't kill the human for fear of raising suspicions on one of their own. In contrast, if both are humans, it's hard to see why they're still untouched. And yet they are, in fact, still untouched, and still alive. That shows that one of them is a Beowolf.'"
"There is a term for this – inference to the best explanation. Say we have a hypothesis H. If H were true, that would cause consequence C to be true – it would explain consequence C. And if H were false, consequence C would be false – since nothing would cause consequence C. As it turns out, we do observe consequence C. What does that mean? Well, it means that H is true – because if H were false, C would be false as well; but C is true; so H is true."
Jaune was having trouble following the lesson by this point – and from the frowns of confusion on every face but Weiss's, so was everyone else.
Professor Fall noticed this, and looked displeased, but changed tack nonetheless.
"Let us return to the bandit example. The hypothesis is that bandits attacked the village. If this were true, they would have raided the granary. If this were false, the granary would be untouched. Upon arrival at granary, we see that it is, in fact, raided. This shows that the bandits attacked the village – because if there had been no bandit attack, the granary wouldn't have been raided; but the granary was raided; so there was a bandit attack."
This example was far more intelligible than the previous, abstract discussion – everyone was nodding along, except Yang, who seemed a little out of it.
The satisfaction of understanding was cut short, however, for the next words out of the esteemed Professor's mouth were –
"I want everyone to read Chapters 1 and 2 of Professor Ozpin's Introduction to Reasoning, and to also complete the suggested reading list appended to the back of each chapter. Then, prepare a 1,500 word essay on inference and the philosophical issues surrounding it; I will circulate the exact essay question by the end of the day, and you are to submit the completed work by 12 noon this Friday. Be prepared to discuss the matter and defend your ideas next week."
Quite a few members of the class groaned; but only Ruby had the courage to protest –
"Professor Fall, couldn't we at least have the weekend to do this?"
Cinder Fall stared flatly at the girl, and then said,
"The deadline has been moved up to 12 noon this Thursday. Any other objections?"
That shut the whole class up.
"Good. Dismissed."
Jaune sighed – in relief.
"Mr Arc. Miss Belladonna. Stay behind."
Relief was short-lived indeed.
Pyrrha and Team RVLY gave him and Blake looks of sympathy as they headed off, and Pyrrha said to him, softly,
"We'll see you back in the dorms."
Jaune was left alone with Blake and the Professor, but before the silence could stretch into awkwardness, Professor Fall said,
"Please find Dr Oobleck in the staffroom. Tell him that I sent you."
Knowing better than to ask for clarification, Jaune and Blake quickly gave their acknowledgements before bidding the Professor farewell and leaving.
Without speaking, Jaune and Blake headed off to the staff room, conveniently located just north of their current position.
The silence wasn't companionable by any means, the way it would have been with Pyrrha; but it wasn't as brutally awkward as it would have been with Weiss – so Jaune was somewhat thankful.
In short order, Blake and himself found themselves at the staffroom; and after a polite inquiry with the receptionist at the entrance, they were directed to the cubicle where Dr Bartholomew Oobleck sat.
The bespectacled, green-haired man looked up from the stack of history essays he was marking, and then –
"Ah, Mr Arc and Miss Belladonna, I presume; thank you for coming at such short notice; Professor Fall might not have explained matters, so allow me to do so; Beacon, you understand, has no shortage of sporting-related extracurricular activities; our dustball team is the best in the word, and we have various clubs for wind-running, river-racing, cross-country, etcetera etcetera; but clubs dedicated to more intellectual pursuits are unfortunately in short supply, and I am seeking to remedy this."
The Professor spoke with an almost alarming rapidity, and without pausing at all in between sentences – making it impossible to get a word in edgewise, even if Jaune had been inclined to try.
"Professor Fall mentioned that she was going to host a game of Beowolf in class today; an excellent idea, and one I wish I thought of implementing myself; the game is fascinating, as I am sure you agree, and can serve to get students more interested in strategic thinking and more inclined to see the value of thought and understanding; I have a long been a fan of the game myself, and have been thinking of setting up a club dedicated to playing it and perhaps other social deduction games."
Oobleck finally stopped – or rather, paused – to take a sip of coffee, before launching yet another barrage of words at a thousand kilometers an hour.
"Upon my request, Professor Fall kindly agreed to send my students who show interest and aptitude at the game; that is why you are here, in case you are wondering; if you are amenable, we can set up such a club to meet perhaps once or twice a week; I will settle the administrative side of things, and help reserve the old gaol as a meeting point; meanwhile, you two will be responsible for finding other interested students and bringing them in as members; so, how about it?"
The Professor looked at the two of them expectantly.
Hesitantly, Blake said,
"I wouldn't mind, Professor."
Jaune, however –
"I'm sorry to disappoint, Professor, but I'll have to decline."
With a shake of his head, and a semi-apologetic smile on his face, Jaune explained,
"I would rather train in my free time, so as to improve my combat abilities."
With his aura only recently unlocked, Jaune had a beginner's level of skill at using his aura to boost his physical capabilities – a situation that could only be remedied with incessant training each day, every day.
And he had to remedy this problem. Weakness was a luxury he could not afford – not when humanity lived at the precipice, and not when the class of enemies awaiting him out there so vastly dwarfed him in strength.
All in all, between training and schoolwork, Jaune didn't think he had the time or energy to commit to an extracurricular activity – no matter how fun it sounded.
Professor Oobleck peered up at Jaune through his round glasses; he was disappointed, Jaune could tell, but made no issue of it.
"That's a pity, Mr Arc; you are of course welcome to join us whenever you wish; Miss Belladonna, thank you for agreeing; for now, do ask around and find out who amongst your classmates might be interested in participating in our club."
"Yes, Professor."
After exchanging polite farewells, Oobleck returned to his marking, and Blake and Jaune took their leave.
By silent mutual agreement, they headed back to the dorms. Blake, presumably, wanted to carry out the Professor's request as soon as possible; Jaune, meanwhile, wanted to ask Pyrrha to spar.
It was a long walk back. Jaune had gotten used to the silence, when, to his surprise, Blake initiated conversation.
"Jaune."
"Yeah?"
"If it's not impolite to ask – why are you fixated on improving your combat abilities? There's nothing wrong with that, but you're probably the best in our year, behind Pyrrha. Is there much point to pushing yourself even further right now?"
It was a fair question, and Jaune didn't mind answering it – and so he did, albeit indirectly, by meeting question with question.
"Have you seen titan-class combat?"
Blake hesitated for a brief moment, but then shook her head, and said,
"Thankfully not."
"I have."
And nothing more needed to be said on that front – Blake wasn't dumb; she could read between the lines.
Jaune, meanwhile, sensed the opportunity to get to know Blake better. Even if she wasn't interested in becoming friends, a better understanding of each other would be a positive development.
"And you, Blake? What's your goal, here at Beacon?"
Blake looked at him, and then looked away – and then she said, with finality,
"To find a way of fixing the world that doesn't involve the sharp end of a sword."
Jaune raised an eyebrow, at this. And though he knew better than to say it out loud, he could not help but think to himself –
Did you win your revolution through kind words and good intentions? Did you secure your rights through logic and moral suasion? And what stopped the anti-faunus pogroms – words and talk, or guns and bombs?
Jaune admired Blake's distaste for violence – but he thought it hopelessly naive as well. Clearly, violence was at least sometimes justified – the only challenge was identifying when it was truly necessary, and when it wasn't; and of course, if you misjudged, you just ended up a worse monster than that which you sought to fight.
His left hand brushed the air at the location where the hilt of Crocea Mors would have been, had he been armed; as he did so, he remembered something his grandfather used to say.
Tragedy is when expediency is mistaken for necessity.
-(=RWBY=)-