Chapter 33. Beacon Days 18
Beacon Gym, 10:42 AM
The smell and noise of the gym may threaten to trigger his sensitive stomach on most days, but right now, it was what Jaune craved. He reveled in the mundanity of the place.
It seemed odd to say this, but Jaune was glad to be back in Beacon. Beacon, where the world made sense, there's no such thing as magic or the supernatural, and he can go two days in a row without some creature trying to gnaw on him. Unlike Vale.
Remnant was not ready for furry Jaune. It almost got furry Jaune.
Despite that particular mishap and the other incidents of previous days, he marked Halloween weekend down as an overall success. Friday night had been a learning experience in a variety of ways. The Club's party was perfect and, honestly, kinda eye-opening. He was blond, but not blind. The day after might have been a bit touch and go, but he ultimately surmounted it with style.
The city remained standing despite the best efforts of his companions. One city block did collapse during their escapade, but the derelict building was one good shove away from falling over anyways. The blonde runaway they were looking for had been found, cleared of charges, and returned to where she belongs, even if that place contained a murder-minded girl toting an axe who had made everything else Jaune faced last weekend seemed cuddly in comparison. Sunday was peaceful, so he finally got his sleep, too. All's well that ends well.
The only way it could have been better was if he had a miracle cure to recover the SAN points he lost to the zombies, werewolves, and Wednesday. Mostly Wednesday.
That was part of today's agenda, really. An attempt to shove the unexplainable to the far corners of his mind and get back in the groove. A return to the Beacon grind that all students go through. Not the classwork, which frankly took a backseat in a combat school, but the daily training at the gym. Spars and weapon drills will hone the students into a blade against the darkness, but before that they had to work on their physique in order to live the Huntsman life.
Jaune experienced little trouble with his knife, but his weapon of choice fell on the lighter extreme of armaments. For others, mechashift tended to add significant weight that they must adapt, and maintain, their bodies to properly utilize. It wouldn't do to have a cool gunblade like, say, a sniper-scythe rifle for example, then be too weak to actually lift the thing. No pointing fingers.
Yet, even he put time aside to show his face here, because fighting was more than a matter of what one held in their hands. His greatest tool had ever been Aura, which carried him far. It can go further.
As he had learned, a large Aura pool would still be hampered by the vessel, which became a bottleneck to greater strength. Were he unable to keep up, boosting himself beyond normal limits could tear wounds in his body. Like, what if he pumped Aura to his head in some last ditch attempt at increasing his intelligence for an exam, and it burst like a watermelon? He didn't think Aura worked like that so he doubted he would try it, but this was clear-headed Jaune talking. 'All-night cramming at the last minute' Jaune, on the other hand, could make very dubious decisions. He thought it best to get ahead of his future self, and work out in the present to toughen up.
The gym was a popular piece of Huntsman culture for those above reasons, and the one at Beacon always had people coming in and out at every hour of the day. Male or female, human or Faunus, all would seek to rebuild themselves into something better, stronger, faster.
That was the goal here. No apocalyptic scenario. No lives in danger.
Yep, just him and his bro Ren, working for them gains.
"Come on, come on, come on! Don't fail Beacon now, Jauney boy!"
"Quit those bitch tears, Brawnz, and LIFT THAT BAR!"
"No way are we falling behind Atlas. More weights in 3…2…1!"
"Weeeak, you're all so weeeeak!"
…Plus a few rowdy extras.
In ones and twos the small fries had gathered, all peaceful-like. Then, once the number of males in the room reached critical mass, they suddenly united in a roaring crowd seething with testosterone. Alpha male displays naturally followed, split along Academy lines.
Jaune Arc. Sun Wukong. Flynt Coal. Brawnz Ni. They were the representatives of their respective schools in this arena of honor, chosen from among countless others by dint of being the ones lying on the weight benches at the time. It started out with the four boys minding their own business, focused on completing their own sets. Then, subtle glances began to compare the loads carried by their fellow lifters, which led to a gradual increase in the weights on each boy's barbell in a bid to outperform the other three, culminating in a full-blown bench press competition.
Ahhh, shenanigans. Memories of The Club assailed him, the same energy which has galvanized the Red Axe minions working its effect here. As befitting the impromptu nature of the contest, nobody present actually understood the rules. Weights were piled on in a haphazard manner even while the contenders lifted the bar, their teammates more concerned with taking the lead than basic safety rules. Pacing went out the window pretty early on.
What were the prizes? No one knew, either. Pride, maybe. With how they were currently huffing and puffing, their sweat, tears, and snot running down their faces in disgraceful rivulets, that could be a zero-sum game at best. At this point, it may well end up a race to see who suffered the least humiliation.
Victory was not worth the suffering. Nevertheless, he has been challenged. He must answer.
Arms shaking, Jaune groaned with effort. The bar began to dip, its sheer weight threatening to overcome his enhanced physique.
Mustering his strength, he rejected that outcome and pumped out another press. Wild cheers greeted his feat, matched only by the curses of his competitors' hangers-on.
Jaune Arc: Record 345 lbs. Current Rank 1 (of 4).
He did it. Double his weight, just like that. Such was the passive effect of Aura, that one's power reached the peak of normal men with ease. Then, beyond.
Can a Huntsman lift his own body weight? Yes, and with little effort. Twice it? Yes, because Aura was almighty! Three, four?...well, let's not get too crazy. There's a limit to defying reality, and Jaune was approaching it. Were the other boys fresh and rested, they could possibly match him, but after so many presses? He's got this one in the-
"Three hundred fifty five, let's goooooo!"
"""Flynt! Flynt! Flynt!"""
Flynt Coal: Record 355 lbs. Current Rank 4 → 1.
Jaune Arc: Current Rank 1→2.
More cheers rang out from the other camps as Sun Wukong and Brawnz Ni promptly surpassed the Atlesian.
Jaune Arc: Current Rank 2→4.
A teardrop streaked down Jaune's cheek. His ordeal was yet to end.
The numbers went up in smaller increments now, five pounds instead of the ten or fifteen in the early minutes. He eked out a score of 375 to retake the top spot again for one brief moment, his heart swelling with hope as it had every time before, only to concede the lead to Haven Academy. A second wind allowed Flynt to get ahead, then Brawnz came out of nowhere with a weight of 400 pounds. The pressure was firmly back on Jaune, who despaired.
It should have been a musclehead like Cardin in Jaune's place, or another gym rat who thought bulk was how you became a Huntsman. Better still, if they were allowed to actively boost their strength then Jaune might have attained a much higher score by now, considering the amount of Aura he could bring to bear.
As it was, his part in this contest was over. From the look of it, Flynt Coal and Sun Wukong have come to the same conclusion. The light of their eyes dulled in defeat. With his flagging strength, Jaune moved the barbell towards the rack. Unable to form words under the crushing load, he motioned with his eyes for Ren to assist him.
"No."
Jaune's mind reeled with shock. His teammate, so easy-going in the times they've known each other, has just defied him. Looking at the other boy's face, Jaune beheld fury.
"You are not quitting here." Ren's voice was a hiss, his gaze bore an uncharacteristic sharpness. "Not in our house. Not to them."
Cardin Winchester pushed his way forward, roaring.
"Losing? To Vacuo of all places?" Hey! What's wrong with Vacuo? "Don't you dare give up, Arc!"
"You can do this. For Beacon!"
"""For Beacon!"""
These guys…
Ren and Sky Lark came forth with lead weights in their hands. The sight almost triggered another wave of tears, but Jaune gritted his teeth and nodded for them to continue. In his periphery, he saw the Haven and Atlas teams preparing sets of discs for their champions. A quick calculation, and he knew their barbells would equal his own.
He next turned to the Shade team, where he noticed their hesitation. The faces of Brawnz's teammates showed disbelief upon seeing that the other contenders refused to throw in the towel. A growl from Brawnz snapped them out of their stupor. At his signal, they followed suit to grab a set of weights. Two thin discs. Five more pounds to match Jaune, Flynt, and Wukong.
Here stood the limit, then. The end of the journey, the big Four Oh Five.
A hush fell over the room. In the pin drop silence, the noise of the discs sliding on the bars resounded to the far corners; a susurration overtook the audience when not one barbell crashed to the ground. Once finished, the assistants stepped back, leaving the four boys to their task.
And that task was hell.
Just five pounds made the difference between possible and impossible. It set his muscles on fire, and the mere act of maintaining his position became a losing fight. Noticing his plight, the audience broke out in a cacophony, screaming at him to hold fast.
He knew he cannot let this drag on. Fighting gravity inch by inch would drain what stamina he had left before he could succeed. He'd have to risk it and complete the maneuver in one fell swoop. But where, oh where, would he find the strength for such an endeavor?
When the fire from within dampened, power can be found from without.
Jaune closed his eyes, and allowed the words of encouragement from his fellow Beacon students poured over him. Their hopes, their dreams, they banked it all on him. The stomping of their feet, the clapping of their hands, and the shouting of every throat became the fuel for his resolve. Where his body and Aura failed, he would blast on through by willpower alone!
Jaune opened his eyes, and they blazed with determination. His mouth opened in a roar to shake the room. Muscles tensed, stockpiling every ounce of energy, waiting for the moment of release. His heart demanded that he proved his might to the world.
He reined in that impulse. The time was not yet right. Just a bit more to muster his best attempt. Just one second and-
Now!
His arms uncoiled, energy held in reserves became energy in motion, smoothly lifting the barbell towards the sky. From the outside, it must have looked effortless. His triumphant grin sold that image.
He turned his attention to the other competitors, and realized that there would be no winners today for three barbells were raised as high as his. They've found the will to match his own. To them, Jaune gave a grudging nod of acknowledgement. Enemies they may be, these boys, no, these men were worthy of respect.
The barbell was pulled out of his hands an instant before it dropped on him, and placed back on the rack by Sky and Russel. Ren grabbed his arm and yanked him to his feet, where he was greeted by cheers and claps on the back. The chant of "Jaune! Jaune!" began, and Jaune blinked away tears.
It felt good to be part of a crowd again. The camaraderie was palpable.
Jaune met the gaze of his classmates who had spurred him on to go further than he had ever gone before. Steadfast companions who were there every step of the way throughout this ordeal. He opened his mouth, prepared to say his thanks for their support, before closing it again. He took another look at them, carefully.
…At this time yesterday, he was surrounded by beauties. To go from that enviable position to being among a pack of sweaty, muscular men, he must have taken quite a turn in life. Jaune missed the twins, already.
Was it too late to drop out of Beacon?
Before he could decide one way or another, a voice called out.
"Pft. Amateurs."
The hell?
The crowd of boys did an about face to see Nora Valkyrie at another bench, her head turned around to look at them with contemptuous eyes.
"Amateurs!" She yelled again, laying her back onto the bench. Jaune and the guys blanched when they saw the amount of weights stacked on the barbell. Some discs had to be strapped to the greater mass using ropes, there being no more space for them. Delicate hands grasped the bar, and daintily lifted it off the rack. She had one pinky stuck out, like a lady. Nora proceeded to pump out a set of five presses with ease, smirk on her face clear for everyone to see.
"Seven hundred pounds. Let's go, baby!"
The crowd that surrounded the four contenders dropped them like rocks to run over to their new idol, showering adulations upon her. The noise level lowered when Coco Adel sat down on the next bench over, and came back with renewed vigor when the girl who lugged a minigun around in a handbag sent Nora a challenging sneer. It signaled the start of a new contest, one that existed on an entirely different realm from the forgotten quartet. Left behind, said quartet slumped to the ground.
Staring slack-jawed at the increasingly ludicrous loads being hoisted in the air, Jaune recalled the reality of this place. Beacon had its own monsters, mundane but no less dangerous than the fantastical threats he recently came to know of (and hopefully will never come across again). Namely, most of his friends and acquaintances. He wondered again, in all seriousness this time, if he should go back to Vale.
The twins were there and they, at least, were normal...ish.
Beacon Library, 1:15 AM
Of all the creatures found on Remnant, one in particular produced waste like no other. A lowly beast, they lacked proper classification and bore no scientific name as a species. Colloquially, they were known by a title that leaned towards the descriptive side than the symbolical.
The world at large referred to them as 'students assigned with a report'.
Scribble, scribble, scribble. Type, type, type. Hours and hours of work, simply to end up with a hundred pages of pure nonsense. Theories suggested this to be a defense mechanism, wherein the sheer quantity of waste they created can confuse their natural enemies (see Professors) into sparing their lives. The most highly-evolved among them may end up with something which, in a good light, resembled an object of value. Others would develop in a different direction, sharing in the same result by taking on a supportive (or parasitical) role to the exemplar of the species and riding their coattails to a passing grade.
Then, there were the rest. The ones that let silly ideas like 'friendship' get in the way of survival, and pair up with other individuals on the basis of emotional distance rather than success rate. These specimens were born to suffer.
This is their story.
The natural habitat of these fascinating creatures typically comprised of shelf after shelf of books. In recent decades, however, they have shown a preference for areas that were also abundant with scrollnet access, often changing their migration patterns to seek such resources. In the local environment, one would find those ideal conditions in a place called the Beacon Academy Library.
Look! We can see two such creatures now. Don't spook them, but let's take a closer gander.
Clearly, they belong to the third cohort. The time of night gave it away, this being past one o'clock in the morning. Those unprepared for the periodic culling event known as 'presentation day' would often stay up far past their normal dormant time as that date neared, sacrificing sleep in an effort to churn out words. These occasions tended to bring about the greatest amounts of waste, though whether that was conducive or harmful to the prosperity of the species was up for debate.
Our first subject sported a fine, golden plumage the likes of which denoted excellent personal care. The taller than average stature and the, dare we say, dashing physique revealed it to be a male, though observers have noted outliers with males of slender builds and females of peak muscularity. The deeper sounds created by its throat, melodious those sounds may be, supported this conclusion. Let us refer to this specimen as 'he' for the sake of simplicity.
Said specimen appeared deep in thought, and has not written a single word in quite some time. Perhaps, he has stumbled upon a new path forward, trading quantity for quality. This behavior suggested a level of intelligence heretofore unseen in the species, and marked him as one of the best, if not the best to be found in the nearby environs.
The second specimen, possessing a subtler hue of black and red, seemed to find our first subject riveting. She, and its softer characteristics indicate this to be a she, has been staring at the male in rapt attention. No doubt, she has been charmed by the many attractive features of the-
"Jaune, quit slacking off and get back to work!"
Jaune jolted in his seat, arms windmilling to keep his balance as the chair tipped on its back legs. One of his hands caught the table, and he pulled himself to safety. Meeting Ruby's scolding glare, he made his excuses.
"I was! It's called ruminating, Ruby, and-"
"Bup bup bup! I saw you zoning out. I even waved my hand in your face for a while there, so let me tell you, not much was going on up top." She adopted a smug demeanor. "Admit your crime, Jaune Arc, and repent."
Yeah, no. Jaune reached into his bag and pulled a bar of chocolate. He tossed it over the table, to Ruby's delight (and near-instantaneous consumption).
"Nevermind, you're good."
Too easy. Though, that was his last bit of food, so further transgressions might not fly. Jaune shook off the last of his daydream and got back to flipping through the history texts. The pages have not changed much in the twenty minutes since he last laid eyes on them, being a dry read that caused him to dip back into sleep every other paragraph.
He reached for his thermos of coffee, taking a sip. His eyebrows wrinkled when he failed to taste sweet, life-sustaining nectar. Unscrewing the cap, he peered into the depths of the bottle, and beheld empty air. Another trusty ally in this ordeal, fallen.
He sighed, and let the thermos slip from his fingers. Bereft of both entertainment and sustenance, his night has never felt bleaker. Hope dimmed, and his eyelids slowly fell in slumber. It was then that he received his epiphany.
If he boosted his head with Aura, could it possibly alleviate his drowsiness?
…Wait, fuck, that's all-nighter Jaune talking. Stop stop stahp!
He jerked upright, the heart thundering in his chest providing the wake-up call he needed. Through bleary eyes, Jaune saw a few wisps of blue Aura coiling around him. He waved them away with frantic hands until they dissipated. Cursory pats of his head revealed nothing out of place, and he exhaled in relief.
That was way too close!
The blond glared at the books and papers in front of him with newfound hostilities. They had almost caused his demise, what with robbing his thoughts of their clarity as he read along, like some sort of book vampire. This library was a death-trap, the assignment its lure.
Why, he should just leave right now. For safety's sake. In fact, he had the perfect excuse.
"Hey Ruby, wanna go raid the kitchen?"
Her face lit up with joy as she slapped away a stack of papers, sending it flying every which way. Her rumbling tummy matched his own's call for food and drink.
"I thought you'd never ask!"
Seriously, screw this assignment.
-o-
Was it the sacrilegious nature of this act that made him want to do it?
Before him was a state of the art kitchen, fully-stocked then expanded to encompass cuisines from all four Kingdoms of Remnant for the transfer students' benefit. Oversized refrigerators in which leftover meals rich in protein, vitamins, etc. can be found. One freezer filled to the brim with ice cream.
He had turned his nose up at all that, and now stood in front of a stove, merrily cooking instant ramen. The absolute bottom in terms of cuisine and devoid of nutrients, its allure nevertheless drew him in. Something about the taste kept him coming back for more. The salt content, perhaps.
He scooped out the two boiled eggs from the next saucepan over, removed the outer shell, and dropped them in with the ramen. Shredded lettuce and dried seaweed added some much-needed leafy greens, along with diced-up mushrooms for that springy texture he enjoyed. To truly indulge, he had fried up some spam, sliced and sizzling in another pan. He put them in with the ramen last, just before he removed the saucepan from the stove. A rummage through the shelves and he had himself a bowl. Jaune transferred the contents over, then sprinkled scallions and fried onion flakes on top. As an accompaniment, a bottle of green tea from a vending machine found its way on the table.
The bowl seemed to glow, sparkling like a treasure. Fit to serve in a restaurant.
Ruby drooled.
Then, she looked at her bowl of cereal, and pouted. Her misery was his joy, Jaune oozed with smug superiority. That should teach her to doubt his cooking skills. He might not be a five-star chef, or even a half-star cook, but he knew enough random recipes to make a meal in anyone's kitchen. He let the girl's pout drag on for a while to really milk the moment, but ultimately made the offer.
"I can make you a bowl, if you like."
In a well-practiced maneuver, Ruby slapped away the bowl of cereal, sending it into the sink. She paid it no mind, pumping a fist in the air with enthusiasm.
"Yes! Me like, please!"
And was that not a ringing endorsement, that he had produced something of value?
Life was not all academia, after all.
Author's notes: The daily lives of Academy boys, upon whose shoulders the fate of Remnant rests! We're all going to die.
I might have pulled an all-nighter or two myself in writing this. Note the quality of the nonsense. Take it in, and ruminate on its subtle nuances. Don't think too deeply though, for I surely did not when I wrote this.
There will likely be more all-nighters to finish everything that needs to be written by Christmas orz