Chapter 2: A More Flawed Gem is a Better Fanfic Than This
"LOWER CASE IS FOR THE LOWER CLASS."
— 3 —
One of the shittiest ways to know the future is to be self-conscious of your own faults but unwilling to do shit about them due to a kind of personal inertia. Those kinds of insane, typically alcohol fueled fugue states when you decide to write a self insert fanfiction in a world of superpowered teenagers, wherein you accurately call yourself out as being a narcissistic asshole dedicated to doing whatever he wants to the detriment of his friends and those who care about him most.
And then in real life, your narcissistic, asshole tendencies to just walk over your friends in order to do whatever it is you want to do winds up ruining some of your best, most productive friendships. Especially when your self-insert had been brutally made aware of them deep-seated character flaws and was working on them.
Then you write some kind of vague sequel, finding yourself in the exact same shoes, now instead dealing with the fallout of being a narcissistic asshole with an alcohol problem. Eventually winding up getting in administrative trouble for what could conceivably be a felony, and getting forced to go sober and get therapy. And then the exact same fucking thing happens to you in real life.
If I ever find myself in another adventure like this, I'll be sure to focus on being a sex addict whose main problem is sleeping with all the hot anime girls so much they send me to rehab. The sexy kind of rehab. Not the uncool rehab for drugs. Like Amy Winehouse except I don't die and my biggest problem is spreading a curable STD to all your favorite waifus.
Maybe then I'll finally get back into the dating game in real life.
Like I said, it's the shittiest way to be able to predict the future.
In fact… in fact… uh?
I paused at the doors of the cafeteria, and suddenly felt a nosebleed coming. What had I been thinking about again? Fuck, I had completely phased out on my way here. Just zoned out to rap music on my scroll (not a phone), and following directions to get to this place. I miss artists like Denzel Curry or System of a Down. Jaune's music app was mostly filled with playlists of typical anime bullshit that Emperor Hirohito would probably roll over in his grave he heard.
Whatever.
Probably wasn't important.
Unlike my very important goal to find the three people who in theory should be my best friends, but probably hate me more than anyone else in the world.
— 4 —
Weiss didn't really care for Valean food. Its haute cuisine, though, she could deal with that. That kind of stuff was legendary for its quality and unpronounceability. The more silent letters in your food, the better it probably tasted.
But this? This?
She poked a fork at it. "I think the pig this bacon came from died before I was born," she said. Just looking at it felt like punishment. Having to eat it for breakfast felt like punishment. Everything felt like she was being punished.
Because she was. Her and the entirety of team BASS. Her only source of schadenfreude was the fact that she hadn't seen Jaune since the medic took him away last night. The Headmaster had told her and her teammates that he was being handled. That was pleasant to know on some level, but on another level deeply worrying.
At the higher levels, Huntsmen teams in the academy weren't always a four-man band. Not exactly because of any rules or special allowances or skills, but because one should become a sophomore before going out on missions, there was a possibility of someone dying. But at the freshman level, you didn't do that. You're required to have four teammates at any given moment. Forcing you and three complete strangers to live your every moment together, building each other up, and that kind of generic pep talk bullpucky.
If Jaune was being expelled like he should have been the very moment he showed up at Beacon, that would mean they were legally down a man.
That would mean that they were all failing by proxy.
That would technically mean Jaune had been right all along. And literally nothing in the world could be worse than that. Not even the thought of failing this year and having to repeat it.
Shamrock—Jetty Shamrock today—put her purple tophat on the table and sighed. "I think it's turkey bacon." Only reason why I can eat it. Though… yeah."
Blake kind of just morosely stirred what Weiss thought were biscuits and gravy. Although exactly why anyone would want biscuits with some kind of white sausage gravy was beyond her. It was just plain inhumane.
"Anyone else just not feeling hungry?" Blake asked.
Weiss swallowed. Headmaster Ozpin and Deputy Headmistress Goodwitch had, for a lack of a more polite term, completely chewed their asses out last night. She had nightmares about the entire thing the whole night. Woke up in a cold, dirty sweat.
Vale had some pretty good self-defense laws. Doubly so for licensed Hunters. But the laws didn't exactly protect you if you went out of your way to find trouble. And in any case, they were freshman students. That fact had been made painfully clear. In hindsight, Weiss couldn't figure out how she got convinced to do it. She suspected Jaune, because he was obviously at fault in this for something, but Blake had been the one to actually convince her and Shamrock.
Weiss had just kept thinking about how those dirty animals had been hitting Schnee Dust Company shipments. Hurting the employees of her family with impunity because the local law enforcement were a bunch of incompetent buffoons. Blake had shown them a video she had acquired somewhere, and Weiss thought… she thought…
…she thought it was only a matter of time before they were expelled. Already they had detention in the afternoon Friday after class, and most of her weekends for the foreseeable future.
"I'm not really feeling like eating, either," Weiss said quietly. How could she when all her thoughts were of how she'd killed her dream on a stupid whim because of a stupid teammate convinced her of a stupid plan, and whatever fresh hell awaited her into detention starting today at noon. She'd never been in trouble before. Not any real trouble. Not like this.
The scar over her eye itched. And that was never a good sign.
"So what else are we going to do until then?" Jetty asked, looking into her hat. With a forced smile, she brushed away some of her red and black hair, before producing a deck of playing cards from somewhere. "Anyone want to learn how to play rummy?"
It was a weak, forced offer, and everyone knew it. But it was a kind of distraction. Even if it would be scandalous if anyone caught a Schnee heiress playing cards.
"Please," Weiss snorted, what was a totally very lady like sound coming from her delicate, lady-like nose. "Like I would ever play cards with you two."
Blake raised an eyebrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Weiss made a shooing gesture at her. "I don't know. You look like the kind of girl who cheats at cards."
"Rude much?"
"Back outside the dust shop door, you said you could totally pick the lock to the back in case we needed to. It's not exactly the kind of thing someone who doesn't cheat at cards would do!"
Blake hissed, an almost cat like noise. "Like you're one to judge. The only reason you wanted to go was because you thought you could arrest faunus."
"They're thugs and criminals and had it coming. I just wanted to do the right thing!"
"Ladies?" Shamrock said, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
"Ah, yes. Contributing to the prison industrial complex." Blake scoffed. "I've never seen something more noble. I bet your daddy would have loved to see that."
"You leave my family out of it!"
"Did you know forced prison labor isn't illegal in Vale? But, I bet you did, and I bet it doesn't bother you. Half of what your family does in Atlas would probably be criminal in any sane country."
Weiss snarled. "We don't do anything wrong! Those people would be starving on the streets without us anyways. Are you saying we should have never given faunus money? Just sit around on all this Dust and let the world collapse without it? Do you even think before you speak? Why do you have to act like such an entitled little brat!"
"Because those people are just that, Weiss. People. Our school uniforms are made by the Royal Corrections Ministry; they're made by slaves! You don't think it's screwed up how even though, like, only thought they're 13% of the population, faunus make up over 50% of the prison population?"
"Don't do the crime if you can't pay the time," Weiss said snidely. "You're starting to sound like you actually support the White Fang. And can't understand what basic math means, either."
"Ladies," Shamrock tried again, squirming in place.
"I bet you've never worked a day in your life!" Blake yelled, throwing her hands up. It was drawing attention. "How dare you call me entitled!"
"Because you are! This entire thing is your fault! And I let you trick me into thinking—ugh! Why do I even bother? It's not like you ever listen to me."
Someone plopped down into the chair next to Weiss. So suddenly and out of nowhere that Weiss spun, teeth grit, ready to slap their new guest for intruding.
"Can't you see this table is taken?" she snapped, only to meet the blue eyes of Jaune Arc.
Scratch that. Not slap. Claw his eyes out.
The boy was smiling, in a somehow upside down manner. How could he smile at a time like this?! Using his shield as a kind of plate, he was carrying seven cups of piping hot coffee.
"I don't like me what I'm seeing none," he said, like nothing was wrong. "I come all this way to find you, expectin' you to be all heartbroken I was missing. But knows what I find instead? Buncha biddies passing they the goddamn Bechdel test. How's ya boy supposed to trust a team that isn't always talking about me when I'm not around?"
Like every time he spoke, it was like deciphering a whole different language. If it weren't for the fact that this was pretty much the only way Jaune said stuff, she'd think he was screwing with her.
"Jaune, could you just, like for once, just not?" Blake asked softly, side eyeing the coffee. As though she were suddenly coming down from a headache from his mere presence. "And why are you fully armed in the cafeteria?"
The boy only smiled. Nothing was wrong in his insane little world. "Stay strapped or get clapped, Blake. Y'all got no idea the blood sport it were forcing my way to the front of the coffee line. Want some? There's enough caffeine between these cups to kill a small badger."
"What kind?" Shamrock asked suspiciously, shuffling the cards between her hands.
"Iunno. North American? Pa just taught me to kill and gut 'em, not give a taxonomic definition."
"The coffee, Jaune."
"Oh, that? The only kind of coffee I like, Blake, like my teammates."
"Thanks, I hate you too," Weiss said, the truly awful pun making her give up on a spiritual level. Her earlier combativeness with Blake was just withering away, and she hated it. Hated how this boy could just kill her soul. Like some kind of Grimm.
Until she saw Shamrock reaching for one of the cups. Weiss sniffed and sat up straight. "Coffee! What did you spike it with? Jaune, I swear to god—"
Shamrock froze.
He held up his hands placatingly. "Easy, easy. It's just coffee."
"I've got some fire dust we can light up," Shamrock offered, pulling out a vial of the red stuff. "Light it up before his mouth and see how big the flame gets."
He had the balls to look indignant. "Why the hell do you think I'm drunk right now?"
Weiss was at a loss for words. Which she really shouldn't be at this point with him anymore. Making angry little noises that were her attempts at forming a coherent string of sentences together, she angrily gestured all around themselves before finally pointing a finger at him.
"You're you, you degenerate!" she finally managed to get out.
Blake seemed unable to help herself. With a certain cattiness, she said under her breath, "Oh hey, like that's not at all a loaded word."
Weiss ignored her. It was probably better that way. She had far more annoying things to deal with. Emphasis on thing. The only boy currently in their team was less of a human being, and more a loose collection of character flaws.
Jaune got that look in his eyes again. The one he seems to always get. Right before he said something Jaune-like, perfectly calculated to get under her skin. Just seeing it made her want to strangle him.
But somehow, he caught himself and shrunk a bit inwardly. "Alright. Yeah. You're right, Weiss." He took a breath. "Oz the great and terrible is making me go to therapy about it."
"Good," Blake said. "What took him so long?"
He shrugged, looking away. "My guess is they had to set up the infrastructure for routine piss tests. I pop hot and I'm dead. Same goes for pretty much every drug except for regular old amphetamines, because for some reason that's perfectly legal here and is in like half of the good energy drink. I have this pet theory that everyone has ADD or something."
"What's ADD?" Shamrock asked, putting her hat back on. She had this squinty look on her face.
"Don't let him distract you," Weiss said.
Shamrock gave a one-armed shrug, conceding the point.
"So I take it you're all good? Blake, ya looking a frog's hair green," he asked, taking one of the cups and sipping from it. "Because I now officially have third degree burns in my throat."
"Gee, Jaune. I don't know," Blake said sarcastically. She flipped her hand at him. "I guess we'll find out together during the detention today."
He blinked in surprise. "Y'all got detention? What for?"
Weiss' voice hitched in her throat. How could he not know? The mere idea he was getting in trouble for everything and not him, just galled her. Her scar itched so awfully she had to rub it on her sleeve.
Shamrock said, "Because freshman students shouldn't be destroying private property to stop a terrorist organization?"
"Oh." He took another sip. "Figured they'd be happy we were going after Torchwick. We just kind of hurried up the inevitable."
"What does some wanted gangster have to do with the White Fang?" Blake asked. "Girls, I think he's still on something. Did we forget to flush the stuff he was hiding in his boots?"
Jaune scowled. "So that's why I had suspiciously drug-shaped blisters on my feet! Didn't even realize I put shit in there."
Apparently no longer caring about him spiking the coffee, Shamrock grabbed a cup and took a sip. "Dude. You had stuff everywhere."
"Yeah, that sounds like me," he said with an embarrassed grimace, looking away towards Team VYPR's table. He went quiet for a moment, which was a miracle in and of itself. He tried to say something, only to shake his head and drown his mouth in hot coffee. Weiss hoped it deep fried his tongue.
"Hey, good news," Shamrock said. "The coffee sucks too."
"Yeah, I do have that effect on everything I touch," he said.
Blake side-eyed him. "You're thinking about something. I don't like it when you start thinking about things. It usually means one of us is going to get sexually harassed."
The boy rolled his blue eyes. "I told you last night or whenever it was, nothing like that is in the cards for any of us."
Shamrock hissed. "You stay away from my cards!"
"I mean—" Jaune held his hands up. He suppressed a sigh. "Look. When does your detention end?"
"When you die," Weiss snapped. The sheer fact he didn't seem to have it was just—ugh! They were ruining her life, and he got off with just being told to be a normal functioning adult! How was that fair by any metric?
Jaune regarded her evenly. She returned his look with a sour expression. Whenever the manic idiot started looking serious, uh. Actually she didn't really know what to expect. Truth be told, she'd never really seen him do it. But it was definitely a bad sign. She thought she would prefer him trying to undress her with his eyes, as disgusting a mental image as that was. She'd seen him do that for sure.
"I've got three deaths under my belt and counting," he said to her.
"La petite mort and an hour-long shower doesn't count," Blake said, pushing her plate away from herself.
Jaune made a theatric face. "I don't like you sexualizing my showers like that. It creeps me out."
"You creep us all out!" Weiss said. "There's literally not a single moment we've been in your presence we haven't felt perved on."
Shamrock raised her hand. "I never have been."
He gestured his cup of coffee at her. "That's because you sexually conflict me on a deep, emotional level enough as is, you Brendon Urie ass looking motherfucker, and I'm not mature enough to handle that."
"That's kind of even worse," Blake said. "But she is right, you are a creep."
Jaune looked like he was going to fight her on that, in a way which would probably involve talking about her boobs or something. He had that look in his eyes. But, uncharacteristically for the second time in a single conversation, Jaune stopped himself.
Probably had something to do with him leering over at Pyrrha.
He just held up his hands. "Alright. Kinda deserve that. You're right and I'm just making it worse."
"Good!" Weiss huffed, folding her arms.
The boy looked uncomfortable, and thoughtful. Probably because trying to get coherent thoughts through his skull was a painful act of vandalism.
"What can I do to make this never happen again?" he asked, going for a second cup of coffee.
"Stop being Jaune?" Blake suggested.
He shook his head. "Haven't been for like a week or two, hooah." A pause. "Actually, how long has it been since I passed my initial interview to get accepted to Beacon? Time's kinda fuzzy in my head."
"You're not cool or cryptic or mysterious, so stop trying that too," Shamrock said, pretty much vocalizing what everyone thinks every time Jaune says something like that.
He nodded. "Okay. I'm trying here to fix shit. Y'all got detention, and I got forced therapy. But if you think about it, that's all that really happened. Right?"
Weiss got the feeling he was trying to say something else. But she chalked it off to him simply having the memory of an addict.
"No thanks to you or Blake," she said.
"Hey!" Blake snapped. Why did she always get so prissy and annoyed with Weiss of all people?
Jaune just looked stunned. "So no one's told y'all?"
Shamrock took off her hat and pulled out an ace of spades from it. She seemed satisfied by that, but not by whatever the boy was saying. "Told us what?"
An uncomfortable smile started sliding over his lips. And already he had violated his attempts to not be a creep. Good job, Jaune. That lasted a whole three minutes. But to be fair, that was a record by his standard.
The boy stood up suddenly, puffing his chest out like an Atlas soldier standing at attention. "That," he declared. "As the continuing and perpetual leader of Team Bass, it's my job to make sure we all get through this semester with top marks. If we don't, then I get expelled, meaning everyone fails this year."
"What!" Weiss snapped.
He shrugged helplessly. Which was about as much help as he could actually give this entire team. "Part of the condition of my therapy. Be the leader you all deserve to have."
"You're bullshitting me," Blake said. She looked around at her teammates. "We all know he's lying, right? No one actually believes him?"
Jaune started looking manic. The way he did when he mixed his alcohol and amphetamine cola. If he were anybody but Jaune, it might have looked endearing, like a special needs puppy. On him? Well, no. Just, no.
"I ain't bullshitting about being the leader you all deserve to have!"
"Funny," Shamrock drawled, spinning her card around. Now it was a jack of clubs. Wait, no, six of hearts. How was she doing that? "I didn't know I deserved someone else to add to my eventual suicide note."
Jaune laughed once. "This is what I like you, J Shamrock."
"Jetty," she insisted unhappily. "Which you'd know if you paid attention. You know, like a leader should?"
"Just y'all wait! Come Monday when classes begin, we're going to be the goddamn best! We're gonna do study groups, train together, go out and kill those supernatural monsters! Everything fidna be alright. We got over the worst hurdle. They're forcing me into therapy. And I ain't finna rest til y'alls at least tolerate me!"
"Die from exhaustion, please?" Blake suggested.
Jaune finished his coffee, and then grabbed another cup and downed it in a single gulp. It dribbled down his chin unceremoniously. He wiped it away with his sleeve, and came back grinning ear from ear. He was breathing heavy, like after a joke. Shifting back and forth on one foot with enough anxiety it made Weiss feel it by proxy.
"Which is why I'm giving up leadership and all my responsibilities onto one of you guys. Everything bad I do now is your fault until I'm cleared for team lead again by a psych board! Ozpin's ideas, not mine, so blame the old man, ta-ta, got some study prep to do!" he said, spinning away and walking off with a purpose to… somewhere that most certainly wasn't detention.
"Wait!" Weiss called out. "So I'm in charge now? I refuse to take responsibility for you!"
Blake made a face. "Who died and made you queen?"
She laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "Well, obviously, I'm the only one it could be. We let you lead us last night and now we're all getting detention and barely avoided going to jail."
"Suicide pact," Shamrock said with a desperate edge to her voice, eyes looking this way and that. "Who heard suicide pact?"
Weiss and Blake both raised their hands.
Until Weiss eventually collapsed face first into her palms. "Jaune's going to get me expelled for sure. What did I ever do to deserve this?"
"It was the racism," Blake said, eyes narrow. "I'm pretty sure it started with the racism."
"What's racist about being right? Facts can't be racist, Blake."
Shamrock sighed, rubbing her temples. Looking for all the world like a kid embarrassed by the fact her mother is going off on some poor cashier.
Because that's all it took. Weiss and the little black brat went off on each other again.
a/n: Scene 3 is basically a straight rip of a conversation from our Discord, which you're invited y'all want. Figured it'd be a funny observation, even if Jaune forgets it quickly. Rest of the chapter was me wanting to just try a 3rd person scene. See how it feels for this fic
The Blake-Weiss argument was inspired by the tag on my Army Combat Uniform. Thank you, Federal Prison Industries Inc., very cool.
Bonus fun fact. Counting this chapter, this volume is pretty much done being written. I just need to do the last chapter and I'm good. It's been a fun week since I remembered this story existed.