Jaune was starting to get used to being around someone wanting to rip out his throat. He wished that he wasn't at that position in life, but regardless of the how and why he was there.
Why was it that they all seemed to be women wanting to kill him as well?
On the one side he had Yang, who he did not know at all. All he could gauge was she had a rather tense relationship with Summer and to some degree was lashing out at him because he had a better relationship with her than she did. Keeping in mind where he was, there was every possibility she was a disguised lion-bear-falcon thing or some disguised owl-bear-dragon thing or just a disguised dragon or just a terrifying strong normal human girl.
How strong? Well she was definitely stronger than him. How did he know? The muscles rippling down her arms that made her look like Rocky Balboa's daughter. Also the glares she kept sending him showed she really did dislike him, and anger was a powerful motivator in whooping someone's ass.
On the other side was Blake. She didn't hate him, and she didn't seem angry with him necessarily but she had been a little off since what had happened at the Seventh Sea, which was understandable considering what had happened. Jaune was still struggling to comprehend the fact he'd stumbled into an eldritch abomination trying to break barriers between dimensions.
The real problem was the fact Blake didn't like Yang, and Yang seemed mostly amused by her efforts to show said dislike, making Blake turn to Jaune for support only to scoff when he just shrugged helplessly.
So Jaune was stuck between two irate girls, one of whom definitely did hate him, the other not hating him but wanting him to get involved in an argument he wasn't sure had even happened yet. There was only one thing for it.
He had to break the ice.
Jaune was no socialite, so this wouldn't be easy, but all he would need was confidence. His father said so. Once. His mother overheard his advice and laughed him out of the room with embarrassment.
He was going to die wasn't he?
"So…" Jaune began, with all the confidence of an acne ridden teenager asking the head of the cheerleading team out on a date. "Who are you?"
"What?" Yang asked blankly, and even Blake gave him a weird look.
"Well, we know you're Yang, but that's about it." Jaune continued. "Who are you?"
"Five minutes you've known me and you already want my life story?" Yang snorted, cocking an eyebrow and giving him an unimpressed look. "I'd be more annoyed if it wasn't so bold of you. At least I know you have a spine. That's good, perfect even."
"Why's that?" Jaune asked, wondering if she was a special type of supernatural that only ate spines.
"Because it means you can fight." Yang said, and for some reason Jaune felt like that was a half-truth connected to the real reason. "Also means you have bones. Bones I can break."
Jaune held back Blake, barely, when she hissed and stepped forward. Yang smirked and continued to walk as if she was utterly unfazed by the unsubtle threat against her...which she probably was all things considered.
"Why wouldn't I have bones?" Jaune asked incredulously, earning a sharp laugh.
"I take it you haven't met a Bob yet?" Yang said, and Jaune shook his head. "You're in for a treat then. Now come on, but quietly, and don't interrupt my tour again or else."
"We've been walking down a grey corridor for five minutes and I have no idea where we are." Jaune replied flatly, earning a snort.
"Then it's a good thing I know where we are." Yang said, shooting him a dangerously plastic smile. "Now shush. Or I'll make you."
"You could certainly try." Blake interjected, bristling behind Jaune's extended arm. "But it would end poorly for you."
"We'll see, but I doubt that." Yang shrugged, and Jaune almost gave into temptation and lowered his arms so Blake could let loose and beat humility into her head. He had a feeling that wouldn't go down well with the Circle, or Auntie Summer for that matter, so he resisted the temptation and just sighed.
"Look, we've just met and I haven't even said my usual shtick yet you hate me." Jaune said. "If I've done something that's insulted you, can you please tell me? It would've been an accident, I promise. An Arc-"
"Needs to learn when to shut up like I told them to." Yang scowled. "Now shut up."
Jaune held up his hands in surrender and swallowed another sigh. They took a right, exiting the grey corridor for another grey corridor, and Jaune bit down the million questions he wanted to ask. They wandered down it before they came to a stop in front of a door. It was solid and black, and it looked like the sort of thing you'd see that was used as a gate for a medieval castle or fortress. There was no visible handle to the door, and around the edges he noticed dark marks around the door frame. Scorch marks.
"This the Flying Islands, a reserve for all manner of wild and wonderful supernaturals capable of flight. Pegassi, Avianids, Wyverns, Sky Serpents, Harpies, Griffin's, Ignis the Phoenix. There's also Ares' pet birds, with bronze beaks, toxic dung and a tendency for human flesh. And dragons. Would you like to meet them?"
"No thanks." Jaune replied weakly, swaying slightly as he stared at the door. How could so many stay in a room?
"Aren't you Arcs supposed to be heroes or something?" Yang prodded. "Be a Knight. Save a Maiden. Get burned to a crisp."
"He said no." Blake retorted firmly, stepping forward. Darkness seemed to seep into the corridor as she glared at Yang, who for her shifted ever so slightly into a more combative stance when she noticed the danger. Her eyes narrowed and she stood her ground however.
A staring contest followed, one which Jaune watched nervously, eyes flicking back and forth like he was watching a standoff in a spaghetti western.
Yang broke first.
"Fine." She huffed. "Let's keep going. I'll be telling Ignis you didn't want to see him by the way."
"I…but!"
"Come along now children, there's plenty more wild and wacky and wonderful things to see here at Home Base."
Jaune followed blindly, knees shaking at the thought of making an enemy out of a Phoenix. He wasn't entirely sure what that meant exactly, but he did know it wouldn't be good. Phoenix's were known to be quiet…fiery after all.
Blake huffed and crossed her arms. He looked over at her, but she only made another huffing noise before looking away. Jaune slumped and trudged along after Yang, privately wondering how he was going to survive this and how the heck Yang knew how to navigate the bland, similar looking hallways of the Circle's main base.
They found themselves at a junction after another four minutes of walking, and Jaune breathed a sigh of relief when he saw signs at the tip rim of the walls. One led to the Entrance and Administrative Offices, another to the Training and Nursery area and another to the Research and Rearmament area. He turned to read the sign under the hallway they'd just left.
Reserves and Rest.
Well that explained things.
Wait…nursery?
"There's a nursery here?" Jaune asked, and Yang tensed next to him.
"It's where unwanted or orphaned supernatural children are raised by the Circle." Yang explained through gritted teeth. "Come on."
Jaune followed for a second, before he paused.
"Are we heading the right way?" He asked.
"Yes." Yang snapped.
"So the Centre of Informal Information is at the training and nursery place, not the admin and entrance place?"
"Yes." Yang scowled, glaring at him fiercely.
"So the place where supernaturals like Blake need to sign the Silence Accords isn't at the entrance and administrative area of Home Base? Right at the entrance for ease of access?"
"No." Yang smiled sickly sweetly. "The Circle is anything but straightforward and easy."
"Blake needs to sign the Accords." Jaune said firmly. The smile seemed to fall slightly.
"She will." Yang replied firmly. For some reason, maybe the conviction in her voice, Jaune believed her. "But first I want to fight you. See what sort of stuff you Arcs are made out of."
"Why?" Jaune asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "What the hell did I even do to you? We just met."
"I don't care." Yang replied simply. "I want to fight you."
"But why?!"
"If you want to know then ask your ickle whittle Auntie Summer. She'd tell you. Or she won't, because she'd worry her precious Arcs would ditch her like...just ask her dumbass. I just want to fight you, not have a heart to freaking heart with you."
"Why should I?" Jaune retorted. "The admin offices are down there. Why can't I just go there and ask for help from someone near where we actually need to be?"
"Because if you don't then…then…just fight me!" Yang scowled. "Don't be a damn coward! I'll do something if you don't. I don't know yet, but give me time and I'll think of something that will hurt you more than my fists could. It would be really sad if rumours started to spread of your mother breaking the Accords. There's only one response to an Accord breaking Shadowling thanks to how powerful they are."
"You wouldn't…" Jaune blinked.
"How about you don't test me?" Yang demanded. "Are we gonna fight or do we have to do this the hard way? Or do I have to drag those not-so human sisters of yours into it as well? Like I said, there's only one way to deal with rogue Shadowlings, and since they're so feared it'll be shoot first, ask questions later."
As if there was an option. Both ways were hard ways, it's just the one of the ways meant the hardness would just be focused on him, as opposed to his family. She was threatening his family...his family!
"Fine." Jaune exhaled heavily, hands curling into fists. He'd come here because of the same powerlessness he felt now, though before it was because he was being hunted by a vampire. Now he was what, being bullied? Hazed? The worst part was he didn't feel like it was either. For some, unknown reason, Yang just straight up hated him. He didn't especially care to be honest. She'd crossed a line when she brought his family into whatever beef they were having.
As he stepped forward, someone grabbed his arm and brought him to a quick, abrupt halt.
"You do not need to do this." Blake said, eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as she glared at Yang, who was tapping her feet with impatience as they spoke. "This has to be some sort of abuse of power or position. Summer trusted us with her and that trust has not been proven wise or well placed. We should find her."
"Good luck with that." Yang snorted angrily, though there was no denying the underlying bitterness in her tone. "She's probably off to find another family to adopt to replace you with already."
"Stop talking about Summer like that!" Jaune snapped, finally reaching the end of his tether with the harsh, brash girl. "You don't know her like I do. She's a good person, and an even better aunt."
"Is she now?" Yang smiled, though it was colder than winter and her eyes were practically aflame with burning hot rage. "A good auntie is she? Good family? A good person? A good mother? Yeah. Alright. Prove it. Beat me in a fight and I'll believe you."
"Oh I'm going to make you eat those words." Jaune seethed. He'd been hunted by a vampire, it had been revealed his family had been lying to him for years, his friends and aunt were part of a secret organization and he'd had to deal with an eldritch abomination before breakfast.
He was thoroughly done with all this. He wasn't scared, even if he knew he was probably going to lose, because part of him was now relishing the fight.
The only good thing of the past few days was Blake, and now even she looked annoyed with him.
"Jaune this is pointless." Blake said firmly. "You don't need to do this. You don't have anything to prove, any reason to oblige her stupid demand."
"I don't need to prove anything, but at the same time I'm not just going to let this cocky, arrogant little witch bad mouth my aunt and threaten my family." Jaune replied, just as firmly. Blake took a step back, face falling into one of anxious worry. He felt guilty upon seeing it, but not guilty enough to change his mind. His anger was too great now. "Where are we fighting then?"
"Eager much?" Yang retorted, though there was a clear excitement in her tone at the fact he was obliging her demand to fight. "We're off to the fighting arena. Unless you wanna pussy out?"
"Not a chance." Jaune replied, glaring at her whilst she smiled at him eagerly, otherwise beautiful features marred by the clear hatred towards him bubbling underneath.
"Good." Yang smirked. "Let's test your mettle Arc."
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Grandmaster Ozpin could be a cryptic old man at the best of times. It didn't help that he was now being cryptic about a potential threat and the reason for said threat towards a member of her family.
Arcs weren't blood related, but in the supernatural world family can mean different things. The inherent loneliness that came with being different, combined with the fact that many of your own kind could be reclusive at best or psychotic at worst, meant that a supernatural family that was open and friendly was like finding a needle in a haystack. Because of that, those families became close, forming a large family despite a lack of blood bonds. In the case of her family and the Arcs, such bonds occurred despite being entirely different supernatural species.
Once, Summer had belonged to a Pack. The word of the Alpha was law, and the only thing she needed other than a good meal was her fellow packmates.
But if the word of the Alpha was law, then the quality of the Alpha determined the state of the Pack. Her father died, and in his place stepped up another member of the Pack who won his title as Alpha through little else but strength of arms. He had dragged the Pack from a reputable, trusted group to a ragged band of hunted animals. Their former allies turned their backs on them, and Agents of the Circle tracked them down ruthlessly after the death of a human child who was caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time as her Pack and another fought over hunting grounds.
It was under these circumstances Summer had first met the boy, who would go on to be a man and father, called Nicholas Arc.
The Pack had been on the run, fleeing from wherever they could find shelter for the night to the next place they could find shelter for the next night. After an ambush by Agents of the Circle that had killed the Alpha and sent the Pack scattering, Summer ended up in a garden, wounded and scared out of her mind.
Nicholas had approached her, thinking she was just a wounded dog, and she had lashed out, cutting his chest so deeply there were scars there to this day and forever opening his eyes to the supernatural world. She had turned hours later, and she curled up in Nicholas' back garden until he returned from the hospital with a bandaged chest. Despite that, he'd brought her in and insisted she become his sister, leading to her eventual adoption into the Arc family. When she turned eighteen she chose the name Rose for herself, after her favourite flower, and aspired to become the matriarch of a family, not a Pack, that was just as close knit as the Arc's were.
Some wishes did not come true. Others didn't. Others became half-fulfilled, and you would have to live with the consequences of that forever.
Summer sighed as she stepped into the Main Hub. the central area of bustling activity she had shown Jaune the night prior. It was telling of his utter exhaustion and how much stress he was under that she'd only been able to show him the front door of what lied beneath the surface of Ansel.
Technically, Home Base was no less complicated than the average highly classified, heavily protected bunkers used by governments in the event of an emergency. That technicality ended when you introduced the Reserves, vast areas of pocket dimensions used to safe house supernatural species that couldn't just wander the outside world freely without drawing the attention of unwitting humans. The pocket dimensions were technically endless, but there was only so much space the limited magic of the Circle's magicians could protect, so those dwelling within were usually confined to continent sized safe zones with uncharted territory surrounding the safety of the barriers. The adventurous sort often ventured beyond said barriers, only to never return.
Jaune wasn't necessarily overly adventurous, but he was overly oblivious. With no warning signs, and even then if they weren't big and eye-catching, there was a chance Jaune could have stumbled into somewhere he very much shouldn't have, hence why she had reacted so strongly to the fact he'd been at the Seventh Sea, let alone the fact an eldritch abomination of all things had tried breaching said pocket dimension whilst he was there. She trusted Poseidon to keep an eye on Jaune, but some of the sirens and mermaids just rubbed her the wrong way.
She still found it hard to believe Poseidon used to be an asshole, or something. The Olympic refugees were reluctant to talk about their past lives elsewhere, though sometimes they got drunk enough to tell tales and legends. From what Summer had heard, reliably heard that was-gossip was an eternal blight within the Circle, the Olympic refugees had gotten up to shenanigans that would make their Norse counterparts look like angels in comparison at times. Only some times. Very rarely.
"Morning." Asterion greeted, and Summer blinked when she found herself at his desk. The Minotaur's shirt deserved every award possible for not breaking every time he moved. "How is Tai?"
"Wishing I could find more time off." Summer winked, and the Minotaur chuffed amusedly. "How's Europa doing?"
"Wishing I took more time off." Asterion replied dryly, and Summer chuckled at the stoic bull's response. "In truth she is well, though her work in records can tire her out greatly. No different from myself I suppose."
"Work is the death of love." Summer sighed dramatically, to which Asterion hummed in agreement. "Anything interesting happen today?"
"Eldritch incursion apparently, though some are more bothered by the fact the coffee machine has ran out again despite the fact work began two hours ago." Asterion said pointedly. "You should tell Ozpin he'll have a revolt on his hands if he doesn't sort out our supply line issue."
"We're in a complex hidden, secretive bunker system underneath an ancient cathedral, what do people expect?" Summer asked rhetorically, earning dirty looks from some of the nearby supernaturals who were clearly in the 'about to revolt' category. "Ah phooey. Anything for me from topside?"
"Yes." Asterion replied dryly, handing her a stack of brown letters. "Bills."
"Oh joy." Summer sighed, taking the bills in her arms. "I'd better go before you hand me letters of eviction next."
"There was-"
"Niceseeingyou byeee!" Summer exclaimed, hurrying away desperately. She heard Asterion chuckle behind her, and she filtered through her pile of letters as she headed to the elevator at the west side of the Main Hub.
These elevators did not lead to the surface corridor and entrance tunnels, instead it led to a section of Home Base universally loathed by anyone who doesn't work there, with the exception being workers like Asterion's wife Europa, who worked for the Center of Past Edicts and Record-Keeping. The 'Work Wing' was called such as unlike the rest of Home Base, it had no add-on amenities like cafeterias, apartments, reserves or R&R areas like the pool room near the Seventh Sea. Those in a particularly poor mood or with especially poor perceptions of said wing often called it 'Dickhead Land' or the more tame 'Whiner Wing'.
The Work Wing had such a reputation thanks to the Centre of Informal Information, which handled two sensitive matters. The first being newly informed, come of aged or recruited supernaturals and their signing of the Silence Accords. It was a notoriously bureaucratic and at times condescending process. Summer still remembered being made to verbally promise to intentional or unintentionally, willingly or unwillingly, knowingly or unknowingly, harm a human unless in self defense. To be fair she had less ground to stand on compared to others, what with what had happened to Nicholas when they first met, but still.
The second was that the Centre of Informal Information was the shady intelligence gathering wing of the Circle. They had a dark reputation because of that, not to mention the fact they insisted on having their own copy cats to Agents. Agents were the standard, accepted but well trained and professional backbone behind most of the Circle's work. The Centre of Informal Information insisted on having their own henchmen, the 'elite' Hunters. It was claimed they were called as such due to ancient hunter-gatherer civilisations and their jobs ending to gather information and hunt deadly targets. The reality was they needed their own hit squad for the morally questionable jobs or downright morally reprehensible jobs Agents like herself refused to do.
Still, there was no denying their effectiveness. They processed hundreds of signatories a week and their information was, more often than not, frighteningly accurate.
As such Summer only shivered slightly as the elevator moved upwards and she entered the seedy den of desk workers and fancily named assassins.
At least they had a nice receptionist.
"Hiya Agent Rose!" Velvet chirped happily. The rabbit faunus was always upbeat and happy, and it was a wonder the dark, dour Centre of Informal Information of all people had hired her, a bright light in a sea of misery.
"Good morning Velvet." Summer smiled, silently wondering just how biased she was against the Centre of Informal Information and its work. "How are you?"
"I'm great! My mum made me lunch and I can't wait for it." Velvet beamed, and Summer felt her cold dead heart melt slightly. "Can I help you? I know you don't like it here."
"It's not-"
"It's fine!" Velvet smiled, though her great, big, fluffy bunny ears dipped slightly. "Not everyone here is bad, you know?"
"I do." Summer said, adjusting her stack of bills to get a better grip on them. "I'm here to get my nephew's supernatural friend signed for the Accords. She's a Shadowling called Blake. Fairly tall with dark hair, golden eyes and cat ears."
"Your nephew?" Velvet asked. "What's his name again?"
"Jaune. Jaune Arc."
"Oh yeah!" Velvet nodded, clicking her fingers as if a eureka moment had just happened. "There hasn't been a Blake Belladonna or Jaune Arc here yet."
"What?" Summer blinked, heart sinking to her stomach.
"Sorry Summer." Velvet said genuinely. "No-one with those names has turned up yet or registered here."
"Yang was with them, she was supposed to guide them here." Summer continued, watching as Velvet winced. "Are you absolutely certain none of them have arrived yet?"
"Yes." Velvet replied emphatically, a look of pity on her face. "I don't think Yang would've taken too well to him considering…everything."
Seriously? Did everyone at Home Base know Yang hated her guts? That she was an utter failure?
"Look after these please, don't show them to your boss or anyone, it's personal." Summer instructed, handing Velvet her stack of bills. "I won't be long. Hopefully."
"Where are you going?" Velvet asked, taking the bills and hiding underneath her desk.
"The one place I know Yang would've taken someone she hates, and why she would have taken him there." Summer answered, hurrying to the elevator and mashing the button so that it moved quicker. "They're at the Colosseum."
She just hoped she wasn't too late already.
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"Agent Rose was in a hurry." A smooth, seductive voice said, startling Velvet in her seat. She turned and saw the boss of her boss, Director Fall, appear from behind a column nearby, as if conjured from thin air. "What did she want?"
"She wanted to sign a friend of her nephew into the Accords, a Shadowling called Blake." Velvet replied, moving her feet so that she could feel the letters Agent Summer had given her. She didn't not trust her boss per say, but she knew of her reputation for finding secrets with the ruthlessness of a shark smelling blood or a moon mad werewolf in search of prey.
"A Shadowling? How quaint." Director Fall noted, stalking forward with sashaying hips. Velvet didn't even swing that way, but even she felt a little flustered as her boss's boss approached. "Did she tell you anything else?"
"No ma'am." Velvet said, pausing for a moment before deciding that spreading pre-gossiped gossip couldn't do any harm. "Well, apparently she sent Yang to bring her nephew and the new Shadowling here, but since none of them have turned up she thinks Yang took them to the Colosseum so she could vent her frustrations out on Arc."
"Poor boy." Director Fall tittered sympathetically, rewarding Velvet with a smoky smile before striding away towards her office at the very centre of the Work Wing. "I wish I got the chance to meet him before Branwen murdered him."
"I don't think she'd go that far." Velvet said, voice a whisper. "I hope."
Cinder merely chuckled.
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Yang stormed ahead of them, and Jaune hurried to keep up with her. Thanks to his taller height he was able to do so easily, which seemed to only annoy the girl, prompting her to pick up the pace. They came across other members of the Circle, none of them who he knew, and some of them he didn't even know what they were. Some were giants with a singular horn on their head, others had forked tails and crimson skin and others were strange looking creatures with bulbous eyes atop stalks jutting from a blob of gelatinous looking flesh.
No matter who they were or what they were, they parted ways as Yang and Jaune stormed down the corridors towards them, a few of them even following, sensing good entertainment coming from the hostile air that radiated between and around the pair.
Blake followed behind the two of them, looking increasingly irate as a crowd of followers built up around them, though Jaune only faintly recognised. He was stuck in a confusing mix of eagerness and regret. He didn't want to fight someone he barely knew, he didn't want to create drama or annoy Blake or even annoy Yang, but he had no idea what he'd done to Yang other than be on good terms with Auntie Summer, or at least that was what he gathered.
On the other hand he was tired of being pushed around, tired of being lied to, tired of being hunted and attacked and in danger and tired of secrets. Whatever reasons Yang had for hating him she kept to herself, which he would've accepted if she wasn't so damn annoying in trying to push his buttons to try and get him to fight her.
Which brought him to another thing. His ever faltering bravado.
One of the first things he noticed about Yang was her muscles. He wasn't exactly obese, but he also didn't keep as good care of himself as he could. His belly was more rounder than he'd like and his arms more flabbier than muscled. It was a sharp contrast to Yang, who's arms were essentially moveable biceps and who's abs were clear through her tank top and looked capable of cutting glass. Her bruises showed she could at least be hit, but that brought a troublesome dilemma in and of itself. Even if he could hit her, could she just tank it? Because she sure as hell looked like she could.
It was with these building doubts looming ever larger and larger in his mind that they came to a stop in front of a set of bulky metal doors. Yang inputted a pin into a keypad and the doors screeched open, making him flinch from the suddenness of it. Yang noticed, and her sharp-toothed smile did little to assuage his growing worry.
When the doors finally parted they revealed a tunnel, the walls adorned with strange carvings. On closer inspection he could make out different shapes and figures, some wielding shields and weapons and others just brawling and wrestling. He wandered down the tunnel in wonder, seeing the dozens of inscriptions and shapes and forms, and he stumbled to a halt as his eyes stung from the sudden light at the end of the tunnel, and he wondered just how long he had been enraptured by the carved figures to not notice where he was. He heard groans around him, and he turned to see the crowd of followers they'd amassed also looking pained, and he hurried over to Blake, who was keeled over with her face contorted in pain.
"The Colosseum does this." Yang said, watching through squinted eyes as he held Blake gently, unsure of how to help her. "Some sort of enchantment or magic or spell makes you get distracted by the carvings so that you don't notice you enter here. Apparently part of it is to make sure opponents are on an equal footing, as they're all equally disorientated."
"You didn't think to mention this?" Jaune hissed, and he saw Yang's eyes flicker at Blake, and when she looked back at him there was an emotion there, a smugness, a vague sense of satisfaction, that made Jaune want nothing more than the strength to pummel the girl into the dirt.
"Whoops." She shrugged, no hint of remorse or actual regret or even apology. "Thought you knew."
"Are you alright?" Jaune asked Blake gently, re-focusing his attention on her. She nodded weakly, holding onto him and breathing heavily before gathering the strength to push herself away slightly and stand on her own two feet.
"I'm fine." Blake replied, though he could tell she wasn't. She looked pained, and above all she looked annoyed. "Let's hurry up though."
"Couldn't agree with you more." Yang interjected, stepping next to them and injecting herself in their sphere of acknowledgement. "You know the rules?"
"No." Jaune deadpanned, giving her a thoroughly unimpressed look. "And I don't think I trust you to actually tell me them."
"I'm shook." Yang gasped, holding a hand to her heart as if in shock. "I'll have you know I'm an honourable person. Maybe a little bitchy, but honourable. The rules are simple. I fight you, you fight me, and we keep fighting until one of us, aka you, verbally yields, is knocked unconscious or dies. Clear?"
"No first blood?" Jaune asked, paling slightly and eyeing her muscles warily. Yang smiled a shark toothed grin.
"We can if you want I suppose. Actually wait, no. Both fighters have to agree to the rules, and a little bit of blood loss never hurt anyone. Well, it never hurt me. The people I fight? That's another story."
"Is this sanctioned?" Jaune asked, eyeing the hundreds of empty stands around them. The small crowd they had somehow amassed had taken their seats on the first few rows, eating popcorn that had been procured seemingly from out of nowhere. The entire building was circular and ancient, with longs rows of what seemed like stone benches rather than seats.
"Of course, otherwise we wouldn't have a Colosseum would we?" Yang snorted, eyeing him with a sharp grin. "Second thoughts?"
"Nope."
"Good." Yang smirked. "I don't accept backsies. Weapons or just fists?"
"Just fists." Jaune replied quickly, mind conjuring up the image of Yang double-wielding miniguns in both hands and laughing maniacally as she gunned him down into lots of little pieces.
His odds with just his fists didn't seem much better.
"Punches, kicks, the general fisticuffs." Yang informed him, rubbing her hands together like a child in bed on the eve of their birthday. "Say your goodbyes Jauney boy, whilst you have the chance to."
She jogged away after, her piece said, and she started doing stretches in the sandy, circular pit the size of a football field at the middle of the Colosseum.
He turned to Blake, who was busy glaring at Yang. He sighed.
"I'm sure everything will be okay." He said, earning an unimpressed look. "C'mon…Have at least a little faith in me. I used to do karate and stuff."
"Used to." Blake retorted, reaching out suddenly and poking his stomach. "You are no kung-fu master now Jaune."
"Less fat shaming, more cheerleading." Jaune said, batting away her finger defensively. He wasn't that bad. "It'll be fine. I can always just yield, besides, I really want to hit her, chivalry be damned."
"I have feelings that are oddly familiar to what you feel." Blake replied, glaring again at Yang. "Yet I have a feeling you would object to me fighting her."
"She doesn't seem to have any problems with you, and unlike me you can actually kill her." Jaune grinned. "Since you're so cool and all. And awesome. And-"
"I am unused to things, not stupid." Blake said, lowering her head and shaking it before looking back at him with wide eyes. "You are trying to flatter me to stop me being annoyed with you."
"Is it working?"
"I don't know." Blake said simply, before poking his cheek. "You will yield if you have to. Do not let your pride stop you, or your honour."
"Yes ma'am." Jaune said, giving her a salute. She smiled slightly. "Here's hoping I don't get a concussion."
"Or worse." Blake said as he walked towards the sandy pit.
The crowd whooped and hollered, and Jaune had the distinct feeling of being a helpless little lamb being sacrificed to a lion to stop it eating the village's children.
A heavy weight settled over him as he stepped on the dusty ground, and blinked as a barrier shot up behind him. It was faint but wispy with a blue tinge, and when he touched he hissed as he felt a sharp stinging pain jolt up his finger and hand and up his arm to his shoulder.
"All combatants are present. There will be no interference. The combatants may not leave until verbally yielding or being in a state unable to continue fighting, whether that means death or unconsciousness." A voice intoned, and when Jaune looked around the empty stands he saw nothing. He looked up and his jaw dropped when he saw a swirl of familiar lights and dots in the...sky? But why was it familiar? Where had...it was the galaxy, something he had only seen on images in his class.
Just where in the hell was he? What had he gotten himself into now?
"Our first combatant is Yang Branwen, victor of two hundred and seventy-seven bouts within this arena and loser of three bouts. Species: Magia Avis. Victory is likely for her."
The crowd jeered. Jaune blanched.
"Our second combatant Jaune Arc, Victor of no bouts within this arena and loser of no bouts either. Species: Uncertain. Victory is so incredibly a distant possibility for him he has better chances of becoming a trillionaire than winning this bout."
"What?" Jaune asked lamely, slightly insulted and incredibly confused. Species what now? He was human...wasn't he?
Even Yang looked vaguely surprised.
"Begin." The voice intoned, and Jaune barely had time to so much as breathe when Yang rocketed towards him like a torpedo with her arm cocked back and a fist ready and rearing to connect with his face.
Oh joy.
A/N: Next update ?/?/?