Wraith
Chapter Thirty Four
Beta: Smithrooks
Elegy
Dorme, many years ago…
Four months following the Fall of Amity.
Violet Arc was a woman of many things.
Patience… was not one of them.
"Fuck off!" She howled in the general direction of the youngest twins in the house. "I don't want to hear it!"
She could also be accused of being somewhat of a potty mouth when she was angry.
They were all-
Violet forced her anger back. Her temper still hovered, but she fought it until it was a distant thing.
They were all wrong. Horribly wrong.
Violet was the only one… Violet was the only one that didn't think he'd done it.
Jaune had always been a bit useless, never quite good at anything he tried his hand at. Over time, there had been things he'd come to excel at due to rigorous practice - like dancing. Jaune was Lord of the Dance, after all.
But now apparently he was the lord of other things. That wretched nickname that the people on the news kept calling him: The Lord of Hunger. As though that meant something. As though that told the story of who Jaune was, who he is.
Wherever he is…
"Now, now, Violet…" her father murmured, voice soft as he approached the storm of her emotions. "They never really got on with him."
Violet felt an immediate urge to slap John.
Unfortunately, she was fully aware that her father had aura - and thus she was more likely to break her hand on his face rather than cause any actual damage to him.
It didn't stop her from glaring at him evilly though.
It was true though. The other Arc girls had loved Jaune as a brother, but beyond that there had been no other reason. It was the kind of affection and comfort based mostly on familiarity. That wasn't necessarily a good thing, as they liked to describe it as 'getting used to a disease'.
All because Jaune was a clumsy idiot at times. Although it probably didn't help that he'd gone and run away during the dead of night and stolen their father's sword so he could go 'be a hero'.
Violet had never seen it that way though. Jaune was her baby brother, 'baby' still applying despite the fact that the little rotter had grown like a weed and was taller than her.
Violet had been more like a mother to him than their actual mother. And as sad as that was, it was the truth. Jaune Arc may be a clumsy idiot at times, but he was her clumsy idiot.
The others… they thought that Jaune really did those awful things on the television. That, while it may have been unintentional, it was still him behind it all. Violet couldn't accept that. She just couldn't. Jaune would never do something so vile, he'd rather throw himself off a cliff.
"Why can't they see that he couldn't have been responsible?" Violet questioned quietly, flicking her blonde hair to the side as she did.
John Arc didn't say anything.
He was like that these days. Whenever the topic of Jaune came up, John would go from being her usual loving father to being quiet and withdrawn. The barest mention of his name brought the elder man into silence.
He knows something. The thought crept up on her, coiling like a snake around her thoughts. It wasn't a new suspicion either, not with the way that John had been acting. John had been in Vale, and according to the messages he'd sent Violet at the time he'd also been in regular contact with Jaune. Perhaps not regular enough for Violet's tastes - she didn't trust Jaune not to attempt surviving off chicken nuggets and succumb to scurvy - but enough so to assure her that her baby brother hadn't died.
But John had been in a bad way when he made it home; his arm very broken, ribs cracked… such injuries weren't uncommon in the life of a hunter, but the fact that John fled the city rather than attempt to save anyone, or say, Jaune, was telling of deceit.
"Well," John said awkwardly, "I'll be going for another walk today. Smell the roses and all that."
The walks… it had something to do with those. Every other day he would go for a 'walk' and not come back for hours - and despite how sneaky he thought he was being, Violet noticed the books. He'd take books with him… but he wouldn't bring them back.
Adding to the suspicion was the weather - it was winter now, and the man felt the need to go for a stroll in the snow? John Arc was a creature of habit, and habit dictated that he didn't, and never had, liked the cold.
He was doing something.
"Okay," Violet muttered, scheme unfolding in her mind.
It was simple, really. If Violet wanted to know where her father was going, then all she had to do was follow him.
Hopefully it would lead somewhere, perhaps even show her what he was hiding. Some hint as to what really happened with Jaune.
Violet could only hope.
Beacon, present day…
"Hey, Jaune!"
"Before he was imprisoned, Jaune was… still Jaune; too weak to fight against his own power, but still questionably sane."
Weiss didn't open her eyes at Yang's greeting, the sound of her own voice unheard by everyone except for herself. It just wouldn't stop… the voices were endless.
Pyrrha, Ren and Nora had hovered around Jaune like hawks yesterday after Weiss had been driven off, and despite Weiss' best efforts she hadn't been able to think of a way to get rid of Arc's teammates.
And so she had waited.
The plan had been to sneak in during the early hours of the morning to interrogate the boy; alas, Ruby was like a bloodhound when she felt something was wrong. And for some reason the fool girl was hovering around Weiss like a bee over honey.
"Hello, girls."
Jaune's voice was flat and distant.
Why Ruby had demanded that they all go to see Jaune was absolutely beyond Weiss. They didn't have classes today, so logically Ruby and Yang at least should do their usual thing and just sleep until the crack of noon. But no… the damn leader was being a pain, demanding that they go see Jaune and make sure he was okay.
Weiss was well aware that was only half the reason, and given that Ruby was a terrible liar Weiss would bet money that Blake and Yang knew too - they were all just polite enough not to point it out.
Ruby really wanted to know why Jaune had snubbed them when they'd tried to save him, why he had shouted for them all to leave, and why Ozpin had lied about how Nihilus died.
There was a moment of silence. The only noise to break it was the quiet noise of the five different breathing patterns from the assembled hunters.
"So, Jaune…" Ruby hedged awkwardly, "How've you been?"
"You're insane, sitting in silence for years - that's enough to drive anyone mad. But it's worse than that - driven mad by your own flesh. The stink of humanity. You hate your own existence!"
Weiss ignored it. She ignored how pained the older version of her own voice sounded, ignored how it rang like an accusation in her mind.
"I'm okay, Ruby."
Blessed silence.
"That's good!" the young leader exclaimed, "So, ah, Jaune… I've been meaning to ask… why didn't you come with us back when we came to save you?
"No, that monster used to be Jaune Arc. The boy behind the monster is long dead."
Weiss ignored it. It wasn't real. It was all an illusion, something that Arc had done to her. A semblance, perhaps. She would get her answers tonight. After the others were asleep, Weiss would sneak back in and finally solve this damnable problem.
Jaune was silent, his gaze cast distantly away from the four girls. What was he thinking? Why take so long to answer a simple question? It was easy. Weiss knew he'd made the right decision in telling them to leave, but his reasoning behind the decision…? That remained to be seen.
"You all would have died," Jaune said eventually.
Weiss agreed. Nihilus really was above them.
"No!" Ruby denied immediately, "we could have gotten you out of there, and if it really got bad we could have fought."
"Damn him! He's killed her! He's killed my sister! Winter, I'm so sorry, I'll fix this. I'll fix all of this…"
A throb of pain lanced through Weiss' skull, but it went ignored just as the mad voice did. She wouldn't listen to these lies.
"Nihilus would have killed you," Jaune said plainly, "He would have killed you with ease and laughed while he did it. None of you would have had any chance against him at all."
"Oh?" Blake interjected just as Ruby opened her mouth to protest, "That being the case, how did he die?"
"Can't you see, Weiss? If only we'd helped him instead of hunted him… It didn't need to be this way."
Weiss scrunched her eyes shut, utterly ignoring what the wretched thing was saying to her in Blake's voice.
Jaune was silent. Weiss opened her eyes to stare at him - this is the question she was most interested in hearing the answer to. Officially, the unknown huntress had been the one to kill him, but that couldn't be true since they'd seen her die. So logically the only way Nihilus could have died was if Jaune himself did the deed.
Which was impossible, of course.
"He…" Jaune whispered eventually, "killed himself."
What?! Why?! What possible reason could that beast have had to off himself?
"Now please," Jaune continued, his voice growing uncharacteristically firm, "I need some time alone."
A dismissal if there ever was one, and Weiss was more than happy to take it. Just sitting in this buffoon's presence and not stabbing him for whatever he was doing to her was a challenge. She would come back later and question him, demand answers and a cessation of whatever the hell he was doing to her.
"But-" Ruby began,
"I killed a little girl… it was only meant to be Pyrrha! Ironwood lied to us! I… oh Gods… what have I done?!"
Ignore it.
"That's enough, Ruby," Weiss barked, "let's leave him for now."
For now...
Abandoned mineshaft, many years ago…
Four months following the Fall of Amity.
Jaune jerked awake from his nightmare, the cold, guilt and hunger waking him.
It was strange, the things loneliness could do to a person.
Jaune sat in the dark, his hands gripping over the fabric of the blanket he'd come to appreciate.
It was one of the few things he could really appreciate at all times, and one of his few comforts within the deep darkness of the abandoned mine. Other comforts were few and far between - not that he deserved them. Jaune was well aware that he was the worst kind of scum in the world, too busy cowering in the dark to face the punishment for his crimes.
But, perhaps as some cosmic joke, the more terrible aspects of his existence were relatively constant. There was always a constant mountain of well-deserved guilt eating away at him, gnawing at whatever positive emotions he had left. Additionally, there was the hunger… it was endless, unyielding and unrelenting. It never ended, and despite all Jaune's efforts to the contrary he found that the only way to sate himself was by gorging himself on the souls of others. Plants and animals were a temporary satisfaction, but they were like looking and smelling a meal rather than actually eating it.
Of course his father had tried to help; the man had brought all sorts of canned food and other bits and pieces down in an attempt to find other ways to make it all stop. That had amounted to precisely nothing - it all tasted like ash, and it made Jaune feel violently sick.
Although it was still an improvement from what pot-noodles usually tasted like. Not much of an achievement, but amusing nonetheless.
To add to the joys of life, winter had set in about a month ago, and with it had come the snows common to the Valean highlands. Nothing like the blizzards and snowstorms of Atlas, but still enough to chill a person to the bone if they weren't careful.
Jaune shivered.
It was cold in the mineshaft. Not as cold as outside, but still enough for thin frost to form on the stone and for him to feel the depressing absence of warmth.
But Jaune was a Dust mage, so he had a few little tricks to keep himself going.
Jaune belched, a gust of fire escaping his mouth as he did so.
Dust was handy for more than just killing Grimm after all.
But getting Dust was hard for him now - the only Dust he had was whatever his father could scrape together and whatever Jaune had left on his person after… after… well, whatever he'd had on him when it happened. The problem of getting more fell to the natural curiosity of people; if John shelled out and bought a tonne of Dust and then had it suddenly disappear… well, people would ask questions.
And they couldn't afford that.
So that left Jaune having to ration his meagre supplies. He had been faced with the choice of spending five, maybe ten minutes in comfortably balmy heat one might find on a summer's day and then promptly freeze to death after that. Or he could spend his days and nights in extreme discomfort as he kept the place above freezing temperature just barely.
What a wonderful world he lived in.
But back to the thought of loneliness! Jaune's mind had a strange way of wandering now, as he had no real way to pass the time beyond just sitting and thinking about stuff. And as truly riveting as that was, after about two months he'd basically run out of stuff to ponder.
The only thing that kept him from going mad was the visits his father paid him. The time the two of them would spend sitting in the dark just talking or having the elder Arc read to him were now Jaune's most treasured waking moments.
And yet… life was awful now.
He didn't want to wake up, because despite the nightmare he'd found himself in moments ago he was having a much better time being asleep. And that was really sad… like a reverse nightmare. Because being awake was much worse. The knowledge and horror of what he'd done only attacked him sometimes in dreams, but when he was awake it ate away at him constantly.
But he was awake now, and with said wakefulness he could go back to his second favourite way to pass the time.
With nothing else to do, Jaune peered at the world around him.
Aura sight was a wonderful and awful thing sometimes. Awful in the sense that it gave just the slightest hint at what it might be like to actually see things once again, and wonderful because it allowed him some semblance of connection to the outside world.
And when Jaune focussed, he could see very far indeed.
First, Jaune let his mind's eye flow over to the village, his sight poring over his family and taking them in for everything they were. Angry, sad, upset, melancholy… he saw all these things. In his mind, Jaune wandered from room to room of that big old house, his presence unseen and unfelt.
It was almost as though he was really there; almost as though he could feel his feet padding on the worn carpet, nearly like he could smell the perfume of his sisters, trick himself into thinking that just for a moment he was actually there again.
But he wasn't. Jaune sat, alone, in the deep dark cave with only the cold for company.
Jaune reached further, his aura sight stretching over as many miles and mountains and rivers as he could force it to until he found the thing he was looking for: Beacon.
The school was like an old friend, so drenched was it in the aura of others that Jaune could almost imagine the building having a soul of its own. His perception of the place wasn't as fine as it otherwise could be if he looked at something closer, but credit where credit was due, Jaune was looking at something that was easily over three hundred kilometres away from.
The multitude of souls within were as he remembered them from his last look at the school. The nervous energy that had been hovering around the building since… well, since it happened, was unwelcome but familiar to see.
It was hard, but Jaune let his aura stretch out and flow over the school - perhaps if he actually forced it he may be able to stretch his semblance that far, not that he would do that - and once again Jaune walked the corridors.
It was almost as though he were a ghost, the way he projected his spirit into the halls of the school. Utterly invisible and intangible, Jaune passed through the throngs of students, some he knew and some he did not. Jaune felt some vague impression of nostalgia, and perhaps even some semblance of peace.
But when he looked deeper into the myriad of souls within the school, Jaune couldn't help but feel the mountain of guilt pile upon his shoulders. Each and every soul there was tarnished by sorrow and pain, suffering etched into their very beings from the chaos that had occurred a few short months ago. Wounds, perhaps, but not of the physical nature. Like an imprint of something terrible still shadowing them wherever they went.
His own team was gone, Cardin, Sky and Dove lost within Jaune himself… and yet, as Jaune peered at Beacon he couldn't help but stare at RWBY and Pyrrha longingly.
He had no right. He was a monster, a beast responsible for the deaths of thousands… but Jaune was lonely. He longed to be among friends, he dreamed of a time when he could have easily spoken to RWBY or Pyrrha whenever the urge struck him.
But when he looked at them now… RWBY, particularly the sisters, were drowning in negativity. Their souls were drenched in a rotten mixture of hatred and despair. Blake and Weiss weren't quite as extreme - but the abyss of anger was still there, the sorrow and shame eating away at them like a cancer.
It didn't take a genius to work out why they felt this way.
All their hatred, all their anger and sadness… it was all because of him. What he did, what he could do… and the fact that he was alive and free.
The darkness that his friends were drowning in wasn't absolute, however. And for that alone Jaune felt like crying tears of relief. Pyrrha's soul was… shadowed, for want of a better word. Something more akin to melancholy rather than outright sorrow, or perhaps it was concern? She was still sad, immeasurably so, but it was coloured but something else, something altogether kinder in nature.
Jaune pulled his senses backwards, his perception of Beacon fading away as his sight became more focussed. Once again his thoughts settled upon the icy cave he was now forced to call 'home'.
The reason for this act was simple, one of the only joys Jaune could find in the world coming to keep him sane. John Arc edged into the top of the mine, and with him Jaune spied new books.
Ah… it was the simple things that kept Jaune going these days.
John stepped deeper into the mine, Jaune using his absurd senses to allow him to 'walk beside' his father. Unseen and unfelt, perhaps more like a phantom than anything else, but still comforting to Jaune.
It was odd, the way John's soul slipped through the world. Jaune's semblance ate all things with even the slightest hint of aura, and yet when it washed over his father it just… passed over him. It was as though something was stopping him, like something was keeping the poisonous nature of the ability from consuming.
Not that Jaune was complaining. The fact that he hadn't brutally murdered his father was a good thing, excellent even. Jaune's curiosity on the matter was more related to seeing if there was a way to extend this immunity to others, to see if he could cure himself of this curse by curing everyone else rather than himself.
A roundabout solution perhaps, but if it worked faster than what he was currently working on…
Two minutes.
Four months of constant effort and determination, and the reward was two minutes.
That was to say, Jaune could hold his semblance back for two minutes before it felt like his head and heart were going to explode. Certainly an improvement from the unimpressive second or two he could have held it back before, but it wasn't enough. Would that Jaune could remove it entirely, rid himself of the curse. But Jaune knew such a thing wasn't possible, not now and likely not ever.
"Are you brooding again?"
Gentle and distant warmth punctuated the words, John Arc sliding up beside his son in the deep dark of the mine. Jaune huddled closer to the warmth - a small oil lantern John had bought some time earlier - with a small grin spreading over his cracked lips. "I don't brood, I ponder. You're just jealous because-"
Attention shifted, Jaune's omnipresent gaze latching onto the new soul that entered his sight.
"Jaune?" John questioned worriedly.
Jaune slammed his will down on his semblance, the tidal wave of power just edging to the surface as Jaune ground everything to a stop. He wouldn't allow it, he wouldn't allow her to come near and end up like all the others.
Violet's soul stepped into the mine, his eldest sister slowly following the steps their father had taken.
"Dad!" Jaune gasped, the monolithic struggle to keep his semblance at bay already wearing on him, "Violet followed you! She's in the mine!"
The way John's soul flickered in panic was delicious, and terribly tempting despite its inaccessibility to Jaune.
Hungry.
NO! Jaune's will clashed against his soul, headache oozing into his mind. He was the master of his semblance, not the other way around. He would not allow it to seep into the world when someone he loved was in danger.
"What!?" John cried, "How!?"
Jaune shoved his father towards the path upwards, entirely thankful he wasn't allowing the thousands of souls boost his strength, "It doesn't matter! Go stop her!"
John didn't hesitate, his legs carrying him out of the deep dark of the lowest depths as he raced towards his daughter.
And Jaune too raced with him, not in body but with his soul instead. Unseen and unfelt perhaps, but there nonetheless.
Hungry!
The white-grey of aura that was John slammed into Violet, and perhaps words were spoken, but they were lost on Jaune. Aura sight had no bearing on sound, and so whatever was said meant nothing to him.
Both souls were agitated. Jaune saw and felt this as he observed them, silently begging his father to get Violet away as quickly as possible. He couldn't hold his semblance back much longer…
Something flickered through Violet's soul, vindication mixed with urgency and just a dash of anger.
Hungry!
John tried to stop her, he really did. But Violet, despite having no hunter training whatsoever, slammed into him and past the surprised man. Realistically, John could have easily caught and contained her - but John was a hunter that had spent his entire life learning how to viciously murder the bane to humanity; so he could certainly stop her, just not painlessly.
Violet drew closer, and despite Jaune's better judgement he couldn't help but feel a surge of elation.
Hungry!
Though the elation was utterly overshadowed by the gripping terror that clawed at his soul. He already had to live with the unending guilt of being a mass murderer, he didn't think he could bear adding fratricide to the list of his crimes.
"NO!"
The voice of John rang through the cave, the sound of footsteps pounding ever closer as the two other Arcs came near.
"JAUNE!"
Hungry. Hungry. Hungry!
Jaune wouldn't allow it! He couldn't allow the murder, not with someone like her. Never. He would never give in.
Dust was marvellous, potential energy taken form as crystals. Thankfully, Jaune had more than just fire Dust left from the tournament, not much… but hopefully enough for this.
Hungry!
Earth Dust responded to his will, the nature of the stone around him shifting in the face of his demand. A solid wall of granite sprouted at the entrance to Jaune's little nook; the wall would do little to stop Jaune's semblance, but it may grant John enough time to get her out of here.
Weak and untrained fists pounded against the stone, "Jaune!" she cried, "I know that's you!"
Her soul looked so tempting, as though it were a roast and Jaune were a starving man. The way the light danced and flickered in his sight was looked utterly delicious…
HUNGRY!
Jaune cradled his head in his hands, a wordless scream of frustration leaving him. He would not.
But it hurt, it hurt so badly just to look at her...
The light of Violet's soul was perhaps closer to blue in nature than purple, though it could really go either way. Her name was derived from the colour of her eyes - something which, even after all the time they'd spent apart, Jaune could remember with crystal-clear clarity. Eyes of the most exquisite and royal violet.
And it looked delicious.
All at once Jaune felt his control snap, the overwhelming desire rushing through him in an instant as his semblance washed outwards and over his sister.
Overwhelming despair speared through Jaune. This was it. He'd damned his sister.
Nothing happened.
"Open up!" the somehow-still-alive sister shouted, her hands pounding on the wall. "Is this any way to treat your sister?!"
Jaune didn't move for a moment, his mind's eye staring blankly at the soul of his sister, utterly uncomprehending of what was happening. His semblance was active, the parasitic force eating away at everything… and yet, Violet was fine. Just like with their father, it seemed that Violet was immune.
Well, that only called for one thing really.
With the barest exertion of will, the stone wall crumbled into powder.
Jaune leapt through the air, arms outstretched and maimed face split into a hideous grin. "Violet!"
The tackle worked, and for the first time in months Jaune hugged his sister.
Beacon, present day…
Weiss poked her finger into the boy's side aggressively. "Wake up!" she hissed quietly, "I need to speak to you, Arc."
It had been a simple matter to sneak into the infirmary after visiting hours. The real hassle had been sneaking past Ruby - the damn girl was still watching her like a hawk, trying to see if something was wrong. But that was easily resolved by telling her that Weiss was going off to do some SDC clerical work.
An utter lie of course, as such things were all handled at the Schnee headquarters in Atlas. But the mention of actual work was enough to ward Ruby away, at least for the time being.
Weiss needed to speak to Arc in private. The voices… they wouldn't stop. There'd been nothing like the 'vision' she'd had the first night, but the sound of voices speaking randomly in her mind wasn't pleasant. Especially given that most of the things the voices said related to the boy she was about to interrogate. Question. She meant question.
"Weiss?" his voice was soft, "Why are you here?"
The real question lay in how to go about this. Obviously this was something Arc had done, a semblance perhaps? But how?
"What did you do to me?" Weiss demanded in a harsh whisper, settling for the direct approach.
Jaune blinked up at her from his position on the hospital bed, blue eyes looking at her dully. "I didn't do anything to you."
Liar. He had to have done something, otherwise this wouldn't be happening to her. "Stop lying. Tell me why I'm hearing things!"
Jaune tilted his head to the side, an honestly confused look seeping into his features. "Hearing things? What kind of things?"
The fool, of course he knew. He was just playing dumb and pretending not to know about the voices-
Wait…
The sounds of the night crawled through perception; the gentle ambience of electricity and the hum of crickets… but none of the dreaded voices that had plagued Weiss.
Had he done something else? Some new effect? Or perhaps some new approach?
Or… maybe it actually just wasn't him?
The original 'vision' aside, all the other instances of hearing voices had been prompted by something else - almost exclusively when someone was talking. One of her teammates would say something and then another voice would say something else and then another teammate would ask why she was spaced out, then another voice would say something…
It was maddening, but it also made some twisted sense. Other people served as a prompt for the voices, and yet upon hearing Jaune speak there was nothing. No sound, no voice, no insanity…
But why? Why hadn't he triggered them as well? The overwhelming majority of the voices said things regarding Jaune himself, so would he not serve as a stronger catalyst than usual?
No… no! It had been like this earlier too! When she and the girls had visited him he hadn't spurred on any of the voices then either! So maybe… something. This was important, but the answers behind it all weren't forthcoming.
"Weiss?"
The voice - the tangible, spoken voice from a person - broke through her thoughts. "You…" Weiss hedged after a moment of further silence, "You really don't know what I'm talking about?"
Jaune's eyes peered at her with mild apathy. "No. Perhaps this is something to speak to a doctor about."
Hell no, they'd just think she was crazy. The mere thought of it was enough to send a shiver down Weiss' spine - the negative backlash would reach more than her, the shame would affect the SDC, Winter, perhaps even cause people to lose trust in some elements of Atlas itself; the Schnee name couldn't survive it.
"No!" Weiss hissed, previous anger diminished, "but do you… do you ever hear… things? Things speaking about you."
A sudden chill passed through Weiss, so intense that she shivered to the bone. It was as though for just the barest moment she had stepped into a blizzard.
Jaune's eyes sharpened into a hateful glare - but even though his gaze was on her, it felt more as though he was looking past her rather than at her. "Leave!" his voice was like steel.
The cold passed and warmth flooded back to Weiss. "W-what?" she asked, confused, "Why?"
The expression of loathing on Jaune's face lessened, but his eyes never left Weiss. It looked… like he was waiting for something, searching perhaps. "I wasn't speaking to you, Weiss."
The information hit her like a hammer. He heard things too? The same way she did? Obviously he wasn't the cause then, but then who was? "You hear them too?" Weiss whispered, a knot of tension bleeding from her. She wasn't alone.
Jaune considered her for a moment, shadowed eyes tumbling through things unseen to Weiss. "You…" Jaune shook his head, "it's something the Lord of Hunger did to me. Maybe he infected you when you and the others tried to get me?"
Weiss snarled. Of course. It just had to be that. It made sense, and Arc would know since he spent the most time around that lunatic. "Tell me," Weiss demanded, just a shade of desperation seeping into her voice, "how do I make it stop?"
Jaune's eyes looked dead. No emotion, just… empty. "It never stops. The rage of Nihilus will never die."
And with just those few words, Weiss felt as though she'd taken a knife to the heart.
1237
A/N
Hints all over the place for this chapter. Seriously, like everything is hinting at something else…
I don't really have much to say so we'll just go straight onto the reviews!
TalonIbnLaAhad:
Thanks for reviewing.
Close, very close. Especially with the Animus Mors idea... Don't feel bad for enjoying this as much as the story itself, I personally find it quite refreshing to see a reader this into something I have written.
Jaune is subject to his hunger, but bear in mind that the information Alter-RWBY gave Ozpin about Jaune way back in the second chapter is merely what they believed to be true - not what is
actually true. Nihilus' literal madness comes... later. But at least for now there is some comfort to be found in family for him. John, among others (you'll see), are immune to Jaune's semblance - though this is not as positive as it first may seem.
The Arc family will be subject to hatred for some time, but if you recall how Jaune and Pyrrha first saw the Dorme of Nihilus' world... well, the results speak for themselves. Violet, the sister, will be as you say. But because I like you I'll give a hint - her fate? It is both better and far worse than that of her brother. And indeed Jaune will suffer - both versions of him, but true tragedy is only achieved when one has gained some measure of happiness first.
Take care.
Shaded Azure:
Thanks for reviewing.
Jaune did indeed spend quite a bit of time within the mine shaft - longer than he ever spent at Beacon. As for whether he came back... no, not as such. Don't feel bad for getting it wrong, I know I tend to write in an obfuscating manner at times.
Maybe because the only time he returned was with Jaune and Pyrrha after he killed Yang in the earlier chapters (is this what You were originally referring to? If yes, sorry) - prior to that he had never been back.
Tondori:
Thanks for reviewing.
I appreciate the honest and polite criticism, much nicer than the hateful PM's I get every now and then.
You are completely correct in saying that in canon Jaune's motivated is more related to his family rather than being a hero. That said, however, is that the goals aren't mutually exclusive, and to Jaune (pre volume 3 Jaune anyway) the two are likely the same thing - meaning if he becomes a powerful hunter/hero then he will have lived up to his family ideal. I like to think of it as just looking at the same thing from a different angle.
For Pyrrha her motivation would certainly stem from the 'destiny' that she clings to, as well as whatever competitive edge she has to her personality (one does not become a champion through passivity). Ruby on the other hand is plain and simple - it's the 'right' thing to do. The alternate version of her comes to see things in a slightly different light, though the overarching goal is generally the same.
Canon Jaune irritated me too, but that isn't actually saying much considering that I don't actually like anyone on RWBY or JNPR. I like the world of RWBY, but the characters… less so. Maybe Qrow… and perhaps Adam if he was fleshed out a little more.
Thanks again for your honest critique! If you ever have any other concerns or comments don't be shy in letting me know!
Thank you all for reading, and don't forget to leave a review!
