Jaune stood in front of his door. It was an unassuming thing. A simple wood door, a metal plaque next to it denoting rooms 364-368. The door had an interesting frame, opening inwards and with the frame overlapping the seam where the latch engaged. A sensor was attached to the door itself to trigger the lock mechanism. The lock had a clearly fake wood covering ment to blend into the door and look a little more natural. It was most likely some form of acrylic plastic.
Jaune had stood in front of this door for quite some time actually. Not because it was a monumental moment for him. It was a significant moment for the ranger, as it was a new chapter for him. He was at Haven. He had made it. A fresh start for him, another step closer to his goal. He was almost there. Now he just had to keep his head low and out of trouble. Should be easy sailing from here. There is no possible way for the next three or so years to be somehow harder than the trip here.
But that is not what Jaune was thinking about right now. Right now, Jaune was rather disgruntled at that little plastic computerized lock. The blasted damned thing would not let him in. He was sure that he had inserted his number correctly and linked his scroll to the system. He should be fully in the system, so what was wrong?
We could wipe it with a magnet, if we had one. B suggested. Jaune nodded. They could just break it open, if Jaune had a magnet.
A was silent, thinking about how they could circumvent the obstacle in front of them. We could just break the door down. Wouldn't even be that hard. He suggested. Jaune actually considered it. He could slip a knife into the gap of the doorframe and just pop open the hinges, or he could remove the swipe reader.
Jaune would have to fix the underlying issue later, but for now he had to get into his room. Ideally with a minimal amount of property damage. Jaune squinted at the door, trying to figure out how best to overcome this obstacle. Jaune just stood there, glaring at the electronic lock. He was hoping that if he stared at it hard enough it would become intimidated and unlock itself out of sheer fear. Unfortunately the lock was stubborn, and remained stalwartly unshaken by Jaune's imposing presence. Jaune sighed, swiping his scroll across the sensor one more time. It beeped angrily at him once more, the sensor light flashing red. Jaune took in a deep breath, almost disappointed with himself as to what he was going to do. His knife slid out of its sheath, ready to pick apart whatever was demanded of it.
Jaune was crouched, leaning on one knee and resting his chin on his hand. It was a contemplative look. The plastic case had been removed, along with a surprisingly sturdy secondary protective plate. Jaune was looking at the wires underneath, trying to figure out which one needed to be disconnected to disengage the lock. Jaune was pretty sure that there was no alarm system attached to the unit itself.
I think we cut the red wire. A pointed out. Why would it be red if it wasn't a shutdown wire?
Jaune leaned his head back, the comment causing him physical pain.
That is not how any of this works? Jaune pointed out, trying to trace to which chips and packages were connected. If the green one connects to that, and that goes there… Jaune slumped, distraught at the confusing annoyance that was electrical design.
"You know what?" Jaune asked himself. "Cut them."
What-B asked, blinking. Jaune, no, JAUNE!
Jaune grabbed the red one first, pulling it out of the main modem. The modem started flashing a red warning light. Jaune rolled his eyes, grabbing a black cased wire and carefully yanking that one out as well. The entire module shut down then as what appeared to be a power supplying wire was removed. Jaune nodded, standing up. He turned the handle and gave the door a push. It refused to budge.
Jaune's jaw clenched as gave a seething huff. "Ok, what in the fuck is wrong with you now?" He muttered under his breath. It took him and his allies against the door a couple of moments before B came to the solution.
The mechanical bolt is still in place. B realized, wanting to smack himself. It was such an obvious statement it felt dumb to point out.
You're kidding me. Jaune lamented. Why, of all the things, does that have to be the thing that is wrong? He bemoaned. That was going to be a pain in the ass to fix, expeccially considering he had kind of just removed any chance of hot wiring the thing. "Fuck." He said under his breath, leaning back down. He looked at the electric box once more, trying to mentally pick apart how it would have been built, and what the best avenue of getting to the deadbolt was.
We should just remove the whole module. Call it a day. A suggested. B shook his head at the ham handed baracacy of the idea.
No! These things must be done with precision. We are defacing private property. B said. Take out the screws and the lock mechanism.
Jaune thought about it. Aren't the schools public property, as they are institutions of the state? He pondered as he pulled out his knife again, deciding that it would be less conspicuous to go with B's suggestion. So wouldn't that make the school public property?
B shrugged as Jaune began to slowly disassemble the metal lock, prying and pulling it apart. The ranger was glad for the convenience that there were indeed classes today, keeping people out of the halls and therefore his suspicious actions unknown.
"Sooo…. What are you doing?" someone from behind him asked. Jaune jolted, freezing in place like a child caught with their hand in a candy jar. Jaune glanced behind him, seeing that it was Sun.
Uhhh… Busted. A cursed.
Damn it, what do we do now? Jaune asked them, his internal voice panicky. What if Sun called someone or told a teacher? What should he do then? What should he do now? Knock him out, like in those Hitman games? He was pretty sure he could, particularly if he surprised him.
Jaune opted to not respond, but instead go back to work on the lock, sweating as he basked in the tense, unanswered silence.
Sun leaned forward over his shoulder. "YOOOo!" Sun said loudly, causing Jaune to wince harshly to the side. "Dude, I didn't know that you knew lock picking! That's sick!" Sun said as he sat down next to the ranger. "Soo, real question though. Why are you picking the lock?"
Jaune turned to the blonde monkey faunus, raising an eyebrow at him. His face shifted back into its default, neutral glare as he started to work at the lock again. He had just managed to get to the mechanical part of the lock. It was pretty simple, with a motor attached to a gear. That gear rotated around, forcing a worm gear to move forwards and backwards, unlocking and relocking the door. Jaune reached his knife forward, hoping to be able to reach the small mechanical device.
His knife was stopped by the small mechanical and electrical components surrounding it. The blade was simply too wide.
Curses. Curses curses and purses, that is annoying. A muttered, disgruntled at the fact. Sun turned, seeing jaune's predicament. Jaune was about to scour his quiver bag for a thinner blade, something he was sure he had in his expansive collection of salvaged and scavenged weapons. Sun looked over to the ranger as he moved to his quiver of handles. Sun knew, or assumed he knew, what the issue was. "Dude, I got you." He said, fishing in his pockets for something. Jaune looked over, his hood only barely covering his skeptical eyes.
Sun pulled out a box of toothpicks, handing Jaune the plastic cylinder. "Those should work for you." Sun smiled. Jaune looked at him, surprised that he had the tools he needed. With a thankful nod, Jaune took the toothpicks and got to work.
The bolt finally slid back, letting the door swing open with an underwhelming lethargy. The room inside was dusty, having been unused in some time. Jaune walked into the small foyer room, looking around the silence with an approving nod.
It's a bit of a fixer upper, but we can make it work. A said as he took in the room. It would take some dusting and some personal touches, but overall it was a nice room. Jaune saw his room, tucked against the wall. He strode over to it, his hand resting on the doorknob.
B swallowed. This is it. He said. The end of this line.
Jaune nodded, pushing the door open. He was ready for a new start.
Hell. A drawled, rolling an imaginary cigar in his mouth. It's about time.
The rest of the day was spent trying to figure out why the system had shut him out. Turns out there were several subsystems that students needed to be inserted into. Normally, or at least at Beacon, all of these subsystems were integrated directly with the central student database. Haven, however, had a different set up.
They had an entirely separate system designated for the population of students. This system would take the student's information and spread it across the entire school system. It however, did not work in reverse. So jaune had made the mistake of assuming that simply putting himself into the main database and assumed that that would do. Jaune groaned, loathing the idea that he would have to manually input his information into each and every subsystem. He had tried to avoid that, but once he had discovered that he got a repeat error when one put their information again into the database, Jaune feared that he would have to do it manually.
Or we could delete our information from the main database. A pointed out. Should work.
Jaune blinked, astounded that he hadn't thought of that yet.
"That would work." Jaune said out loud, navigating to the server that withheld his information. One quick highlight later, and the pressing of the delete key, Jaune had never existed in Haven. But that was only temporary.
Less than ten minutes later, a first year student named Jaune was a student at Haven academy. It was interesting to think about. Jaune, up until ten minutes ago, did not exist in any record of Haven. The computer didn't even know who he was, nor that he even existed until now. It was strange to think about how impermanent he was to the eyes of others.
If I fall in the forest, and no one is around to know, did I ever really fall? Jaune pondered to himself. It was weird, now that he thought about it. The impermanence of the world was a fascinating subject to think about.
That's great, Jaune, but could we please focus? B said as Jaune finished his work. We still need to put the lock together.
Jaune tilted his head. But do we? Do we really need to fix the lock?
Jaune left it broken as he made a checklist of things he needed to do.
First: He would need to set up his stuff, really move into the place. He had some tattered scavenges he wanted to set up on the wall, a couple of weapons he wanted to have hanging.
Second: He would probably need to figure out what his schedule was. He should have one, and it was probably pretty easy to find it. And if it wasn't? Well, he could always go through the mainframe again.
We need clothes. A pointed out. We've been wearing this hoodie jeans combo for upwards of two months.
Jaune grimaced at the thought of that. Yeah, a fresh set of clothes is on the list. Jaune agreed. And then he stopped. But for clothes we need money… he cursed under his breath. Money, or atleast what was apparently acceptable currency, was something he did not have.
Jaune racked his brain for a moment on how he should acquire some money, or barr that, acquire some clothes. I
"Gold has worth, right?" Jaune said to himself, rolling one of his coins in between his hands. "I suppose I could go to a pawn shop." B nodded, agreeing with the statement.
We could also go to a bank, but I am unsure if they will buy from us.
A frowned. What do you mean? It's money, they should take it.
I'm saying we look like we're homeless people. B pointed out to his counterpart. When was the last time you saw a homeless person in a bank?
Jaune grimaced at that particular commentary. Yikes. He thought, gathering himself up. He added that to the list, bumping up to first on the list. He looked over his things, trying to figure out what he would need. It boiled down to the essentials. Toothbrush, Clothes, deodorant, mouthwash, some paper, maybe a new wallet.
It looked like he was heading to Schnee Mart soon. Jaune stood, shouldering his cloak around himself. It was time to get his first taste of the City of Mistral.
Mistral, Jaune had decided, sucked. Sucked major. Major league sucker. If the kingdom of suckerdom had a king, it was currently in a long, drawn out revolutionary war between the ruling Atlas and the rebel Mistrali forces.
Man, I didn't know Mistral was such a shitty place. A thought as Jaune kicked away a drifting ball of trash. It looked like a couple month old wrapping of a WcMonalds Burger. The vacation advertisements always make it look so nice.
B squinted at them. Perhaps that's because it's, you know, a Vacation advertisement?
Jaune looked around the terribly dirty street. "And to think that Main street was so nice." He bemoaned. The inner city was actually rather nice, but once you got past the ring of hotels the quality took an unexpected turn for the worst.
Jaune looked across the street, seeing a dingy lit concrete block of a shop. A neon sign flickered in an almost broken manner, advertising the shop's services.
JACK'S: GOLD, JEWELS, $$$.
If it was dark and raining, we would be straight out of some modern action flick. Jaune thought to himself as he approached the door.
Ting.
A small tin bell rang out as Jaune entered. Jaune took a look around the place. It looked exactly like he expected on the inside. A cheap mismash of shelves, plastic tables and racks that had collected an entire set of oddities. Sure, there were the standard things you would expect to find in a pawn shop: Jewelry, laced in silver and gold, a couple of outdated pieces of technology: A slide projector, an old 8 track player, and what was probably a record player.
Jaune pondered the wares for a little while, just wandering around the shelves as he looked at the odd curiosities in the store. Most of it was cheap junk, not worth the lien it took to produce.
Jaune saw a thin dark man, dressed in a business suit that reminded him of those snake oilers you found in western movies.
Jaune approached, the shopkeep was distracted with arranging the front racks of his counter. Jaune watched him for a moment, casting his eyes over the desk. A picture of a clearly younger man with a little girl, no older than seven, celebrating at the park. It looked like a birthday, but it was hard to tell. The dreamer noticed that it was labeled with a date, and a signature. It was dated to be several years ago.
In a pretty glittery pink, there were two memento's, one that clearly belonged to the child, and another in a neat cursive. Eugene, happy birthday. ~ Sharon. Most likely his wife, or other romantic partner. He was not one to say. The letters were faded, almost to the point where even Jaune could not read them
That child should be in middle school at this point. Jaune thought, the deduction springing unbidden to his mindJaune looked down at the man. He had no ring on his finger.
Perhaps the child was an ill fated night? An accident from an old flame? B picked apart the information they knew. Jaune shook his head.
There was a ring mark, a thin band of untanned skin that came from years of wearing such an object. Looking with a focused goal, the dreamer saw another clue.
He wore a crooked cross upon his necklace.
This man was a widower.
Jaune had his fill of this window into this man's life. He reached forward, tapping the desk bell. The shopkeep jolted, snapping to attention.
"Sir!" he exclaimed, straightening his shirt. "My apologies, I did not see you…" The shopkeep, Eugene, trailed off upon seeing just exactly who stood before him. A man who looked like death. Tired, blearly blue eyes stared at him over heavy set bruised bags, blank and unwavering and as cold as the winter nights. He was dressed in a grim collection of greys and browns, faded leathers covered with ash stained cloth. His cloak made up most of his figure, the threadbare tattered dreamborne thing almost reaching the ground, stopping just short of his ankles. Heavy set boots led up to long faded jeans that were probably once blue and dented, dull plates of armor that would protect one's shins and thighs. A strange almost skirt like thing hung from a belt of something that resembled a lizard hide, but Eugene could not be certain. It was oddly decorated, with a chain of wooden coins hanging from the belt itself, and a set of colored lines just barely visible from behind the cloak. If it were not for the man's face, the most interesting and outlandish aspect of it would have been his chest piece. A large crack ran down one side of it, stapled and hammered and crudely welded back whole. He assumed that there was some equally brutalized and beaten armor around the arms as well, but the customer hid them behind that tattered cape.
That thing has most certainly seen better days. Eugene thought as he subconsciously crossed himself with his right hand. The man before him looked like he had just walked out of some museum exhibit, or perhaps some old grim fantasy movie.
To be frank, he looked like Death. Particularly with those eyes and that broken nose. He looked like some victim from the Great War, or perhaps the Faunus revolution, with those scars that crossed the grey man's visage.
Jaune snorted as he watched Eugene cross himself, as though to ward off some dead spirit. "You need to ward yourself from me, Eugene Jack." Jaune rasped, his amusement not reflected in his voice. It was a different voice than the one he had said goodbye to Nora with. It had become solemn and deep, like that of a dry well in a once great oasis. It had grown withered with his long silences of the dream. It had grown withered with his many cuts to his throat.
"Be not afraid, I mean you no harm." Jaune said, slowly reaching his hands out. Revealing the gauntlets he wore, he carefully took out some coins of his. "I only wish to trade."
Eugene looked shook, his eyes wide and skittish, like a deer that was being hunted, but not yet struck. He watched as Jaune put the coins down on the table as though it were a loaded gun. I was joking about this man being Death. He thought to himself, praying that this strange stranger did indeed mean him no harm.
"How did you know my name?" he asked, looking worriedly at the man before him. Jaune had several options here.
He could explain that he saw the photo, come clean with his perversion of Eugenes life, of his invasion into this man's soul and memory.
Or he could fuck with him just a little bit more.
We really shouldn't… B trailed off, his actual action very clear. Jaune thought about it for less than a moment.
You know what? It's been far to long since I've had some fun. He smiled, his grin twisting into a thin curved line on his face.
"I know many things, Eugene Jack." he said cryptically, fighting the shrew giggling he so desperately wanted to break into. "But that is beside the point." Jaune spread the two coins out. "I wish to sell."
Eugene quickly grabbed the coins, inspecting them carefully and closely. They were not of the kind he recognized, and were clear from some forgotten age of history. These things were probably priceless. Eugene bit one, confirming his suspicions that the coins were gold.
Clearly, this stranger did not know what he was giving up. He didn't look like a crackhead, or someone that any shark would ever dare even go after. The knives at his side and the armor he wore clearly dictated his profession.
"Four hundred thousand for the two of them." He offered after a moment of mental calculation. Jaune was unimpressed at the offer.
"You are shorting me, Mr. Jack." he said coldly. The room seemed to drop several degrees with his voice as jaune rose up to his full height, seeming to grow to a towering imposing force in the matter of mere moments. The room darkened as what Eugene hoped was a cloud passing overhead, blocking the saving light that was provided by the sun. Eugene gulped, suddenly coming to a conclusion about trying to con huntsmen.
It was a bad idea, and he had fucked up.
"Five hundred thousand?" he offered shakely, dropping the coins down on the table. The gray spirit simply stared at him, boring into his soul with a terrible otherworldly presence. This man was clearly not of this world, but of something else entirely. Perhaps he was Death, in a manner. Eugene was never one of spiritualism or religion, but there were moments when he prayed to god. And this? This was one of them. A trickle of weak sweat dropped down his brow, but Eugene didn't dare move to wipe it away.
Jaune was even more unimpressed with this pawner's cowardice. He supposed some people were just like that.
Four hundred K is plenty for us right now. Besides, it's not like we don't have more from where it came from. A said. Jaune's harsh gaze softened a bit, but only a bit and not a single millimeter more.
"Four hundred thousand will suffice." jaune said after a moment, sending a wave of relief though the pawn shop owner. The sunlight had returned, and with it the warmth that had previously inhabited the shop. The shopkeeper cracked open his cash register, pulling out card after card from the thing. He handed Jaune the egregiously thick wad of lien.
Jaune gave him a nod of thanks, looking through the stack of odd bits and ends in lien cards. It was strange. This was the most lien he had ever held in his hands, and it truly meant nothing to him. He could probably throw it in a ditch and feel exactly the same as he did fifteen seconds before. "Tell your daughter I give her the best of luck. She has many trials ahead of her." He said before he turned to walk out the door.
Eugene almost called after him, to ask him exactly what in the world he meant by that. "What the fuck?" the poor shopkeep said, picking up the coins that were left on the counter. He really had no other words to describe that interaction at all. "What the fuck?" He repeated.
Jaune made his way to the nearest Schnee mart, and what few people that were there parted for him as he made his way through the city of Mistral. He got some looks, sure, but frankly he couldn't find it within himself to care. Why should he? It was unlikely that he would ever see them again, or that they would even remember what he was wearing by the end of the day. Some remnant of the Jaune that went to Beacon, the Jaune that spent his summers in the Orleans Library or shying away with his scroll games wanted him to dash through, disappear into the darkness of the alleys. But he had a place to go, and god be damned if he was going to stop. He had marched across an entire continent and a dreamscape, he could make it across a couple city blocks.
He had collected the minimum amount of clothes one would need for a week or so within an hour. He hadn't spent any time actually looking at the fashion of the clothes he was grabbing. Grey, white and black tee shirts, jeans of various shades of blue, packs of underwear and socks. He was heading for the checkout when he saw a rack of something truely terrible. Something so incredibly awful that Jaune just had to stop and look at it.
On it was a whole row of truely tacky Hawaiian shirts. Bright floral patterns of green, blue, red, orange and purple. A whole rainbow of shirts that would be fitting on an uncle on some mid life crisis tropical vacation.
Oh, we just have to have them. A said earnestly.
B looked horrified at the notion. No, absolutely not. We cannot. Jaune, no.
A merely grinned. It was a big face splitting grin that stretched from ear to ear, much like one might see on the Grinch. Jaune, yes.
Jaune, No. B responded with, his voice stern like a damn withstanding the oncoming flood.
Jaune, Yes! A became more manic with every second, practically vibrating at the idea of owning such majestic works of tackiness.
B took in a deep breath. Jaune. No. You shouldn't. They're terrible! He exclaimed. A only grinned wider with a terrible impishness.
Jaune. Yes. Do it. He said in a really bad Darth Sidious impersonation.
Jaune's face scrunched as he considered it. A and B continued to battle in his head.
Jaune. NO! Jaune, listen to me. NO. N. O. NO!
Yes, Jaune. Jaune Yes! Yes!
Jaune sighed, shaking his head. He walked out of the store, several bags in his hands. And one of them? One of them had just a sleeve of a pink blooming vine sticking out of the top.
Another chapter done! So, we've hit a bit of a lull in the story. At least until the next big thing happens. I considered having this chapter being devoted to the dream, and just skipping over what was essentially a weeks worth of the waking world. I wanted to flesh out Mistral and Haven a little more before that, so it might be a chapter or two before we get back to the dream.
as for my non cannon power scaling of Jaune's aura, there is a legitimate reason for it that will be addressed in the next dream segment. I promise that it answers a lot of questions about this story.
As always, leave your comments, reviews, theories, or just cool ideas about this story that you want to share with everyone. I would greatly apricate it, as I love reading them.
Just don't be one of those people that have their account set to no response or as a guest just to say "ew, an irregular story? Fuck you I hate this and you're a bad writer." It's rude and it paints you like a coward.