Chapter 2: Newcomers
In which Ruby makes a deal, Jaune makes a pile of vomit, and Weiss makes new 'friends.'
Ruby's heart shattered into a million tiny pieces of sadness when she saw the look on her sister's face. Then those pieces disintegrated into a fine powder of woe. Then that powder liquefied into a molten gloop of misery. Then the forgemaster alloyed the gloop with depression to strengthen it, cast it into a vessel, drew his hammer...
What was she thinking about again? Oh yeah, she was sad that Yang was looking disappointed in her when she proclaimed they would be partners. Not even thinking about forging weapons could make the gloom Ruby felt dissipate.
"Unless you don't want to be partners," Ruby told her sister. "We can go our separate ways and you can choose one of your friends. I'll just be alone forever. Oh, maybe I can get Zwei for a partner. He has his aura unlocked, after all, so the Dentistry Headquarter would probably agree-"
Yang's face quickly changed. "No, I'd be thrilled to have you at my back anytime, Rubik's Cube. I'm just a little worried that you're using this whole 'us being partners' thing as way to hide away from socializing. Choosing a new partner and making a team of new friends would be a great chance for you to come out of your shell, ya know, spread your wings."
"But I like being in my shell. And if I also have wings, then I'm a flying turtle and I should never try to change because that sounds so awesome and cool and–"
Yang frowned. "Ruby, I'm being serious."
Ruby sighed and looked out the airship window as Beacon Academy pulled into view. "Yang, I'm two years younger than anyone else here. I stand out. I'm not sure I'll have a lot in common with these older kids."
A glint of red momentarily flashed over lilac. "Old?"
"You know what I mean, sis. If we're partners, you'll be there to break the ice if…when everyone else treats me like a child. Besides, there's no way I can go through four years of Beacon and not interact with our two other teammates. That should be enough socialism."
"Socializing," Yang corrected. "But you do raise a good point. Actually, having me as a liaison between you and us old fogeys might be for the best. Heh, more like a li-Yang-son."
A blonde haired boy whose face had been gradually turning green proceeded to fall to his knees and empty the contents of his stomach on Yang's boots.
"Oh, come on! It wasn't that bad!"
Nothing was fair in the life of Jaune Arc. He'd decided to become a huntsman only to be told by his parents that neither would support his career choice. He'd applied to seven primary combat schools and received seven letters of rejection. He'd begged his father to train him in the family ways of noble combat only to be presented with an eighth letter of rejection, this one handwritten.
Thus, when Jaune was old enough to apply to a professional Academy, he didn't leave anything to chance. His parents congratulated him on his acceptance to the 'Valean Architectural University,' nodding their heads in agreement with his mundane career choice. His dad gave him a pat on the back, his mom gave him an arsenal of school supplies, and his sisters each gave him a hug and kiss on the cheek.
And Jaune gave himself the family sword.
Armed with the deceitfully gained blessings of his family and Crocea Mors strapped to his waist, Jaune had set off on his quest to become a hero. The forged transcripts he'd acquired cost him both lien and sleep, but he knew it would all be worth it when he graduated and started making a difference like his father and his father's father before him. He may not have known the first thing about how to fight – Dust, he didn't even know if he was supposed to hold his sword with his left or right hand – but he was headed to a school, and school was where he was supposed to learn these things.
Things were finally looking up. Then, they looked down. Specifically, Jaune looked down out the window, saw how fast the bullhead was moving relative to the ground, and ruined it all by heaving all over that cute girl's shoes.
"M-Motion sickness," he weakly supplied as an excuse as the girl and her red friend stared at him in disbelief. "I suffer from motion sickness. Several great huntsmen and huntresses have it. In fact, even the last Valean king was known to… to have…"
Jaune's attempted history lesson faded as the girls walked away from him. Well, there went two potential girlfriends. What a shame. One of them even had blonde hair that would've looked great next to his own.
Jaune felt tears begin to pool at the corners of his eyes. Here he was, on his knees in a pile of vomit as real students fled to avoid him. This was not how his journey was supposed to start. It wasn't fair. It was never fair. Why couldn't he catch a break for once, just once? Why did the universe have to crap on him at every chance it could?
The light in front of him went away. Jaune looked up to see two teenaged boys standing between him and the window. One of them offered a sympatheic smile, while the other offered a hand towards Jaune.
Jaune didn't hesitate to take it.
Weiss knew they were looking at her. Even with her back turned and her attention focused on the Dust she was unloading from her trolley, she was acutely aware of their less than subtle attempts to glance her way. As a future huntress, awareness of one's surroundings was paramount to Weiss. Great, now the blonde one with the huge boo…large bosoms seemed to be goading the shorter, thinner f̶l̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ red one into approaching her.
"…go up to her…future teammate, Rubes?"
"…can't just randomly…normal knees…"
"…need a little shove…break the ice, right?"
Weiss sighed heavily and rotated to face the children. Perhaps they were the same age as her (though the smaller girl did look young), but they were clearly still emotionally immature. Regardless, she could not fault them for it. Not everyone could have the discipline of a Schnee.
Turning to look at the onlookers ended up being a mistake. Apparently, the whispers of a little shove had foreshadowed a big shove. Red was tripping over her own feet as she stumbled towards Weiss, and Yellow gave her a thumbs up from afar. Her and Weiss' forehead collided as they smacked together and collapsed in a heap of crooked limbs and cracked Dust bottles.
Oh, Dust. The Dust!
"Get off of it!"
The waifish girl scrambled off of Weiss and knocked even more Dust onto the floor in her haste.
"Stop! Just stop moving!"
"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I didn't mean to knock you over!"
"Forget about that! Just stop spilling my Dust! It's unstable!"
Weiss gave up trying to instruct the dolt and proceeded to grab her tightly by the arm, eliciting a sharp screech. Ignoring it, Weiss dragged her out of the heap of empty vials as various colors swirled together in the air.
"Ouchie! Stoppit, that hurts!"
Weiss continued to ignore the girl's pleas, even as she tried to wretch herself free of the heiress' tightening grip. The Dust cloud was further away with each step, but she couldn't let go just yet.
Weiss increased her pace. They probably only had a few seconds now…
The Dust ignited.
THOOOOOM!
A brilliantly searing conflagration suddenly lit the space where the cloud of aerial powder had been floating and disappeared just as quickly, leaving a few weakly burning flames and a scorched crater that stopped just short of Weiss and her companion. Yellow was staring at the pair of them in abject horror with her mouth agape, but Weiss kept her wits about her. A quick once-over confirmed that neither of them had sustained any serious injuries. The same could not be said for the mangled remains of Weiss' trolley.
"I'm so sorry!"
Weiss gritted her teeth as she prepared to excoriate the troublemaker over the lost Dust but then unclenched them as she reminded herself why she came to Beacon. Be like Winter. Calm. Collected. Cool as a Creep. Exhaling the breath she had been holding in, Weiss forced out, "It's okay. As long as no one was hurt, there's no reason to be upset."
The brunette was unsatisfied. "But all of your dust…"
"…can be easily replaced."
Both girls turned their heads to face the newcomer who'd addressed the little kid's concerns. A dark haired student sporting a prominent bow, an outfit as black and white as a checkerboard, and a beautiful pair of -tits- amber eyes slowly stepped towards the pair.
"As future owner of the Schnee Dust Company, Beacon's resident heiress is no doubt wealthy enough to replace all of her lost Dust stores ten times over."
"Y-Yes, it's not a problem," Weiss answered uncertainly, unsure as to why this woman was intervening on her behalf.
"Even if such wealth was acquired at the expense of her employees' safety."
Weiss huffed indignantly. "I may be an heiress to a multi-continental Dust company, but I'm not so greedy as to value money above human life."
For some reason that evaded Weiss, the last two words of her statement seemed to set this interloper off into a hysterical frenzy. She…Black?…Black abruptly launched into a diatribe about the evils of the SDC that Weiss had heard before. Many times. She turned around to walk away, but this action only seemed to add fuel to the hate-filled, expletive-laden rant about how evil corporations were. How disappointing that her peers at Beacon would be so infantile.
A mousy squeak abruptly made Weiss aware that she was still dragging Red along with her, never having released her grip on the clumsy girl's upper arm. As Weiss let go, she realized that she had yet to properly make this young woman's acquaintance.
"Sorry about…whatever that was. Allow me to formally introduce myself. I am Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company. On behalf of my family and the institution its name represents, allow me to guarantee full restitution for any injure incurred for which our Dust is found responsible (in a court of law)."
"Uh…um. MynameisRubyRoseOKgottagobye!"
Without any warning, Re…Ruby ran off at an inhumanly fast pace, leaving behind a billowing trail of dust (the regular kind) and rose petals. Weiss broke her gaze away from the odd duo and allowed it to briefly land on Black. The mysterious woman had long since given up on reciting her obviously rehearsed criticism and was now sitting isolated in a quiet corner of the courtyard, reading her book. Blue eyes met gold, and Weiss forced her head to look elsewhere.
A head of messy blonde hair was excitedly chattering away at a bright green mohawk and a broad suit of bronze armor. All three were distantly trailed by…was that Mistral's Invincible Girl? Weiss made a mental note to approach her later, but only if a chance arose naturally. Meanwhile, an absolute giant of a man gripped his mace so tightly that both of his hands were turning white. Weiss followed his eyes towards a pink skirted girl who laughed joyously as she juggled a hammer, a halberd, and two green guns. A young man in an evergreen coat watched with a resigned look on his face, but another teenager with hair as gray as his armor was attempting to swipe the halberd from Pinkie to no avail.
Beacon was quite unusual. Quite unusual indeed.
FEAR
FIND FEAR
FOUND FEAR
NO MORE FEAR
FEAR
I can hear their fear.
What?
What are these sounds?
Where–?
Sounds in my head?
Ah. Thoughts. Thoughts in my head.
Who put sounds– no, who put thoughts in my head?
Why was I looking for-?
What am I?
Ah. Grimm. I am Grimm.
No. I was Grimm.
Omake:
Virgin Jaune: Sorry about the vomit. I get motion sickness.
Chad Yang: No worries, vomit boy. I've already moved on. You might say that it's *puts on sunglasses* ancient hurl-story.
Next Chapter: Rough Start – Every story has a happy ending, but not all of them have a happy beginning.