Jaune picked up the headless corpse, rooting through his pockets and armor. He found a kind of fetish-
Heh, you said fetish. A giggled immaturely. Jaune rolled his eyes.
Old definition of fetish. The magical, spiritual item kind. Jaune sighed, picking up the "spiritual item". It was a double barred cross with many large iron bells on it, one each at the spokes of the cross. Emblazoned at the meeting point of the first bar was a stamped symbol of a bell. Jaune gave it an experimental ring. It jingled with a surprisingly loud sound.
"Huh." Jaune pocketed it, slipping it into his subspace quiver. He reached down to pull out the next item of importance out of the knight. A plain, milky white bottle that sloshed when it moved. He put that away as well. He figured he could drink that later. Preferably in a place where the wind didn't whisper to him.
Coward
Fool
Doomed
"Asshats." Jaune responded to no one, beginning his long pace back to somewhere else. Somewhere else turned out to be the Eternal City.
You know, I though we would be happier about defeating the rusted knight. A commented as Jaune powerwalked trhough the woods. The blonde dreamer just shrugged.
"Yeah, I probably would have done the whole cheering "Get fucked! Fuck you! Whoooo!", if he didn't… well you know. It's surreal"
Surreal you say. Let's be honest, everything we do is in the surreal category. B sighed with a shake of his head. We're living in a world where alcohol has a direct health benefit and people's souls can be fermented into said booze. It's a weird world we're living in.
It's someone else's world, that's for sure. Jaune grumbled mentally as he kicked a pile of ashen farm dirt. I'm just living in it.
Whoever they are, they have a shit sense of humor. A said as Jaune crested over one of the brittle wheat filled hills. He beelined toward the circular ley gate that would take him into the Eternal City.
Jaune looked at the two barred cross he held in his hand. "You know, I could have sworn I've seen this symbol from somewhere…" He trailed off, racking his head.
If I were a gambling man, which I am, A started, wiggling his bow tie I would suggest we start at that funky church in the middle of the cityscape. Seems like a logical place for a man obsessed with calling us a demon from the deep.
Jaune's head tilted. Worth looking at. He admitted, as he turned and set off down the road.
I… I am pretty sure it's that way Jaune. B said, pointing in just about the opposite direction. Jaune frowned, pulling out his map.
"Huh, what do you know. I am going in the wrong direction." He mused, turning on his heel. The citadel remained as intimidating as ever. Great walls covered in purity seals and blessing wards. He looked at the seals, inspecting the symbol. He looked down at the double crossed cross he had pilfered from the tarnished knight's corpse.
"yup, that's a match" he said, looking at the similar bell symbols. He held up the bell laden cross. He gave it an experimental shake, ringing out with a loud clear clang. The sound travelled cleanly through the air, leaving a moment of silence. Then there was a clunking, grinding sound as the gate started to climb up into the air, rising up to give Jaune entrance to the once holy space.
He poked his head out from the gate, looking inside. Around there were various knights and people in rotten white robes. Jaune assumed they were priests. Casting a spell over himself to reduce his ability to be noticed, he watched as the world shimmered slightly around him. The vision of eyes and lines of sight were pulled away, sown down into the fabric of reality for Jaune to simply step by them into the nearest graveyard.
"Ah, finally, I can escape this hell hole" Jaune sighed in relief, sitting down at his grave. Or at least the grave he likes to sit down and die at.
His room was dark, as usual, the first vestiges of the morning light just beginning to crest over the mountains and filter past his window.
"ah, morning." He mused, sitting up and squinting at the cresting light. He thought about it for a moment, nodding sagely. He had come to an answer of great importance, one that would alter the timelines forever.
"Breakfast time." He said, pulling himself out of bed. Pulling on his bright light blue and white Hawaiian shirt and his painfully dull grey pants.
I still think we should splatter our uniform with some paint or blood or something. Just to give it some color. A recommended as the belt was tightened around his hips. Jaune ignored the suggestion, as much as he agreed with the sentiment. At least Beacon was bold enough to have red in it.
Eggs with grilled salmon was the choice for today. One thing that was nice about the semi communal kitchen he shared between team AACS and SNNN was that the main fridge was always fairly well stocked. He wasn't sure if he should thank Arslan or the school for it, because he doubted anyone on team Sun had the wherewithal to keep up with the logistics of grocery shopping.
Then again, he never really bothered to do it yet anyway either.
A pair of dark, muscular arms wrapped around torso as someone smaller than him pressed their head in between his shoulder blades. Jaune jolted a little, not expecting the feeling of human touch.
"Smells good." A familiar, soft voice muttered. "You woke me up last night."
Sage? You sound a lot different. A snickered into his palm. Jaune and B rolled their eyes collectively.
"Good morning to you to, Ms. Altan" He greeted as cooly as he could, fighting any squeak in his voice.
Arslan could feel the muscles in Jaune's back stiffen when she hugged him. She couldn't help but deflate a little at how uncomfortable the ranger seemed with her. She wasn't sure which was sadder: How uncomfortable she made him, or that he was probably the most comfortable with her. It made her want to squeeze just a little tighter.
Are we doing this right? Is this what we're supposed to be doing? Arslan asked herself. I mean, we've been on a date, so this is ok right? This is what mom and dad do.
Arslan very rarely regretted choosing to be uninterested in men, relationships, or romance as a younger woman. It gave her plenty of time to get better at combat and improve herself spiritually. It was a good decision, one that prevented her from a lot of heartbreak and baggage. But now that she was in something that could probably be called a relationship, she felt that there was just things missing from her brain that she should know.
"You know, I'm not sure yet." The hunter gave a hum, letting the lioness leaning into him. "So far it's fish and eggs, and I doubt it will change much beyond that."
The lioness let out another hum. "Sounds good. Make me a meal?"
"Bam, you're a snack." Jaune said flatly, turning around to bop Arslan on the forehead with a little bit of wiggling finger wizardly. "Go sit down, Ms. Altan. I'll have it ready in a moment."
It did end up evolving a little. Small dark round, almost peppercorn like berries were fried with the fish. Initially they were sour, but the cooking of them in butter and the oil rendered out from the sizzling fish made them into a tangy crunchy treat. Another pan made traditional french omelet. The plate was placed in front of Arslan without a word as Jaune sat down across the table from her, for already cutting into the browned fish.
They ate in silence for a while, enjoying the buttery smooth texture of the salmon as it basically fell apart in their mouths and that natural sweetness that comes from light and fluffy cooked eggs.
"So, about the Vytal Festival…" she started, looking down at her plate. "We're going to it."
Jaune nodded. "I was unaware we were chosen already."
"it's kind of irrelevant. We are the highest scores I think in our grade, at least combat wise. It is a foregone conclusion."
"hmmmm…. And?" Jaune countered, cutting a chunk out of his omelet.
"I have a request to make." She said, not looking at Jaune. She pushed her fish around for a bit as she tried to figure out how to breach the subject. "your semblance is killing you, isn't it?"
Jaune stopped, solid and motionless as stone for a moment as he stared at his plate. Slowly putting down his utensils, he straightened up like a sunflower reaching for the sky to look at her.
"As much as anything else, I suppose." He answered owlishly as his head tilted to the side in an not unbirdlike manner.
Arslan deflated at the answer, resting her head by the bridge of her nose in her hand. "Not… not what I ment, Jaune. It's just I don't want you to overdo it at the festival, alright. Frankly, I think I would prefer if you didn't use your semblance at all if it hurts you, but please don't overdo it." She said, her request much more a demand than plea. Jaune bowed, almost ceramonially accepting the request.
"your will be done, Ms. Altan." He responded in an even tone, and Arslan could not tell if it was sarcasm or not.
"We will also need to get there. I am sure that the headmaster would provide a bullhead…" She trailed off, looking at Jaune pensively. The ranger raised an eyebrow, frowning.
"I would… survive the trip." He finally stated, rolling the words in his mouth as though they tasted acrid and bitter. "But I would much rather not. How much class do you think I could skip?"
Arslan shrugged. Personally she was against the notion of missing a large potion of class, on the other hand: None of Jaune's impressive airsickness
"What were you thinking?"
Jaune shrugged, cutting another bite of fish out. "It's not much to get passage on a fishing vessel. Many make the coastal march down to Vale as they chase the southbound schools. It's cheaper if you offer your protection and services. It might take a little longer though."
Arslan leaned forward, resting her chin on her intwined hands.
"You would have to get all four of us on that boat Jaune. While I know nothing of fishing vessels, that sounds rather cramped doesn't it?"
All she got was a humm in response. "I will find a solution." He said, standing up with his empty plate. "Can I entrust you with the dishes, Ms. Altan?"
Arslan waved him off. "ppft, of course. You get back to your mysterious brooding or whatever it is you do in the shadows." She jabbed, taking another bite of her food. Jaune walked past her, heading to gods knew where as he dissapated into the darkness of the hallway behind her.
"I doubt he's going to class." She mused, shaking her head.
She was indeed correct.
Instead Jaune sought out a solution to this transportation. The docks were busy by midday, and it is then when the ranger was well into his hunt. Looking up the age old wooden sign "Marshal and Co. Shipping and Charter" was embossed in a many times rusted and cleaned metal, a paint chipped painting of a classically designed sailing ship braving a storm adorned the wooden square. Jaune entered, ringing a small tin bell attached to the door.
"Ah, hello good -oh dear." The man, a thin, wiry man with a full beard that was puffed up and frizzled by the humid salt air. He seemed a little taken aback by the enterence of a tall armored knight, haggard and dangerous. He swallowed down his fear, putting on his best sale face. "Good day sir. How may Marshal and Company help you?"
Jaune nodded at him, squaring his shoulders to hopefully put off some air of confidence. "I am looking to charter a ship to Vale."
The man, who's name was James, closed his eyes as though that was particuarly bad news. "You have my deepest condolences, sir." The man said, looking down at a ledger. "unfortunately we do not have any vessals that could be used for charter heading that way. With the Vytal festival coming up, you know how the supply chains are. We have all routes to Vale right now moving material for the festival."
Jaune's tongue clicked, clearly disappointed in the answer. "Are you sure? It is only myself and three others, and we would not require much comfort."
The man shook his head. "Once again, we don't have the slots. There are strict rules about shipping density on the open seas, and with Vale hosting all our lines are filled with Cargo boats. This happens every year to someone's lanes. Atlas? Vale ends up chock full of cargo. Mistral? No one from Vale or Vacuo is sailing over."
Jaune's brow furrowed. "Why?" he asked, finding the entire premise rather convulted and stupid. James shrugged.
"According to the rules, it's to prevent reaching the Grimm Density threshold on the water." He said, although it sounded like he didn't believe it. Jaune supposed it made sense: The reason so many major cities and outposts were near the ocean or next to them was because Water based Grimm were rare, and never made it to land. It made for having both a quick escape from a terrestrial invasion and a side that was relatively safe. So having a regulation on how many ships could be at sea at once to keep the density of negative emotion down to a minimum.
But judging how our friend James said that, he would believe something else is at hand. B noted, cluing in Jaune about the clerks beliefs.
"I take it you have an alternate opinion?" Jaune asked, looking down at the sitting man. The man chewed on his lip for a moment, before leaning forward conspiratorily.
"Well, you didn't hear it from me, but I suspect it's so the Sailors Guild can make a killing. There are high fines for using sailing lines that are already in use, and getting the rights to those lines are pricy. Very pricy." He said, rubbing his finger and thumb together.
That made much more sense. "I see. If I wanted to… circumvent this how would one do that? Completely theoretically, of course."
The man raised an eyebrow at him, stroking his smooth shaven chin. "I suppose you could arrange with a captain privately, although I don't suppose you know a captian off the top of your head if you came here first."
Jaune gave him a shrug. "The man I know I am unsure how to find." He admitted. The liegeman nodded, pretending to understand.
"Right. Well, you didn't hear this from me, but there is plenty of… less honorable folks out making a living transporting last minute cargo."
Jaune paused for a moment. "You mean smugglers." He clarified. The man nodded, closing a rather large book.
"They're bad for our business, that is for sure." He said as he stood up, a solid head or so smaller than Jaune. "But I am sure someone of your ilk can find them rather easily."
What the hell do you mean by that? A asked with a growl. Jaune let it go.
"I see. Thank you, James. And do have a good day." The ranger said as he left.
Great, now we just have to find a smuggler. Why do we keep on having to turn to crime to get what we want? B grumbled as Jaune took in the salted sea air. His eyes scanned the port until he saw something rather odd. A half sunken ship, one that must have been on the closer end of many decades old, with it's back end sticking out of the water like some obstinate obelisk. Pacing towards it, side stepping and ducking past the dock workers moving crates and barrels onto giant bricks of metal and steel floating in the water.
There was a mortar and concrete pedestal with a metal plate embossed into the top of it. It was a beautiful turquoise blue color from the decades of being exposed in the salty wet air.
"here is the wreck of the MSS Miss? Mss Amanda Fitzhoray, the last hybrid Dust and Sail ship to serve as a public vessel. The ship was scuttled in 1988 when it's captian Henry Hathway attempted to overthrow the government by holding a vital shipment of several tonnes of dust hostage. After his execution, the Mss Amanda Fitzhoray was left in the bay as a historic landmark."
Jaune nodded, looking back at the ship. It looks surprisingly intact, all things considered. The hull's held up well for being sunk nearly a half century ago.
Yeah. Almost good enough to sail. A said. B looked at him with a side eye.
I'll be honest, I don't think we can collect enough wood and rope for a repair spell that big. B noted, mentally calculating the amount of resouces that would be required.
I wasn't really thinking of using a repair spell, but I guess that could work.
Jaune's brow furrowed at he looked at the shipwreck. If we're not using repair, what are we using?
I was thinking of restoring the idea of the ship. A said, You know, just bring it back from the eschelons of time.
Jaune nodded, his head tilting from side to side as the thought about it. Turning and heading back to the upper, higher lands. Haven was odd, basically being built throughout the mountain range that left for whatever ocean being right up against the mountainous cliffs. Technically the port wasn't even in a bay, but rather a deep river than was birthed from the snowmelt in the mountains. It did make for a rather long ride in skycart or trolley, and an even longer walk to get from Haven Proper to the ports, or vice versa.
Nadir was sitting in the library, pouring over sheets of raw data. There were still a couple hours until dinner and he was spending the time relaxing. At least he was until a tall, lanky shadow came over him like a plagued miasma.
"Hello Jaune. What do you want?" He said, not looking up at his fellow teammate, and maybe leader? It was hard to tell considering how much Jaune said that Arslan was the leader, but headmaster Lionheart liked to push the male blonde into the position.
"How would you like to commit some crimes?" The blonde ranger asked. Nadir looked up at the man, raising an eyebrow.
"That… fully depends on what kind of crimes we would be committing." Nadir admitted, closing his scroll.
Jaune smiled, putting down a bundle of finely printed forms on high quality paper. "Fraud, Forgery, Forcing entry, thievery, and other crimes that start with F. Do you think necromancy counts as a crime?"
Nadir picked up the files, looking over them. "I don't think so? I know desecrating a corpse is and I guess the two often come hand in hand.". A plethora of various certificates for ships and naval passing were flicked through, being committed to memory. He sighed, putting them down to stand up.
"I'll get the good pens. And a printer. What's the name of the ship we're christening?"
Jaune smiled, a broad, cunning and sharp grin on his face. "The Miss Amanda Fitzhoray."
It was a dark and stormy night. The clouds above rumbled, heavily laiden with the promise of rain, but none had fallen yet. The night air was chillingly cold and wet, the kind of air that would freeze the snot in your nose if you weren't paying too much attention to it. This kind of weather could be expected for the Mistral winters, and often promised a small scattering snow if not hail. It was here we find an odd couple of huntsmen making their way down the heavily sloped hills. The pink haired man trailed behind his caped fellow.
"I still do not understand how we are going to make a scuttled ship into a sailing vessel capable of getting us to Vale."
"have faith, my friend. Have faith. It will all come together. Probably. Hopefully." The ranger said as he pulled Nadir up, pushing him over a chain link fence. Jaune hopped over a moment later, landing next to his fellow huntsman. They started to dash through the empty port. As basically the entire port was owned by the Joint Marine Shipping Company Corporation (JMSCC), various parts was shutdown and blocked off at night when no one would be working there. Hence the breaking in. The pair walked quickly through the dark streets, relying on the almost non existant lighting from ambient light polution and the occasional glimspe. Jaune swore that Nadir seemed to navigate by echolocation or some form of precognition instead of his eyes and feet as Jaune did. Eventually the two made it to the Mss Amanda Fitzhoray. Nadir crossed his arms, looking at it.
"So… it's partially underwater" nadir noted, tapping his foot into the stone. Jaune nodded.
"it is indeed."
Nadir pursed his lips, looking at the sunken ship with suspicion. "I assume you are going to do something that I fully do not understand?"
Jaune nodded, stepping up to the edge of the dock. Holding his hands out, he began to chant. At first it was just his voice that rang out over the cold but easy breezing night. But as he chanted, the world began to roil in anger. Anguish as the winds picked up, howling with their terrible wrath as this blasphemer revoked the rights of reality. The sea began to churn, leaping forward, soaking the dreamer and his compatriot. A etching of green glow as an overlaying pattern of poison colored circles. Cloud started to form overhead as a terrible rain started to gather. It poured down in heavy thick drops, each making Nadir think he was being punched in the head instead of simply being rained on.
The chant continued as Jaunes voice began to separate. It broke, turning from one voice into a chorus. High tones and low tones reverberated, overlapping over Jaune's own. It began to echo in Nadir's ears as he pulled out his scroll, deciding that if he was going to see actual necromany, he might as well record it. The chant was now in his skull, the voices were in his skull. And they chanted death.
Death.
Death.
Death.
Thunder cracked from over head, creating a flash of light. "Oh god." Nadir breathed out, his eyes bulging as he looked onto the waves. "There's things in the water. There's things in the water."
A rotted hand shot out of the water, framed dramatically by the flash of lightning. With a groaning rotting sound, like someone snapping ropes and wet wood, a shambling man with custracious growths coming off his rotted, waterlogged sailors jacket.
It saluted, the motion of it's arm penduluming up making it sway in place, unsteady as it lacked knee ligaments. "did some old buggah cried oan auld capt'n hendrie hathaweh and meh creue?"
Nadir blinked at the incredibly thick southern Mantle accent.
"That would be me." Jaune said, watching as the rest of the accursed crew started to climb on board. "Unfortunently, you fine gentlemen can't rest yet. Get that ship out of the water."
The undead sailors, spurned by the integral command of their summoners binding. They moved around the dock, attaching ropes to pulleys and to the sunken ship. The ship began to rise, the creaking of bones and lignin overwhelmed by the storm born around them. Slowly, the ship started to rise as it was dragged up by the lignin ropes. Jaune reached into his cloack, pulling out a model of the MSS Amanda Fitzhoray in a bottle.
Nadir raised an eyebrow, approaching with the hesitancy of approaching an armed trip mine. "What's that?" he asked. Jaune turned, holding the model ship floating calmly in the water aloft.
"This, my friend, is how I intend on getting our half sunken ship to ship shape. With a little bit of gravity manipulation, a little bit of quantum entanglement, and some fate entwining, I am going to turn that-" he nodded to the floating hulk of waterlogged wood. "Into this"
Nadir opened his mouth, only to clamp it shut. "You know what, sure." He said, looking down at his recording scroll.
Nodding, Jaune turned to look at the MSS Anna Fitzhoray. Holding out the model, he lined them up so that the not sunken miniature ship was laying over its sunken counterpart. Jaune began to chant again, but this time in a more recognizable tongue.
"Ohhhhhhh There once was a ship that went to sea, on an old Fitzhoray see?" He began to sing, his voice a forced low note. A faint line of bright, electric blue thread started to form between them.
"The winds blew up, her bow dipped down, oh blow my bully boys blow."
The light got stronger, as more threads began to connect them together. As the song progressed it seemed that the ship was pulling the threads into wood and rope and metal gain. "Soon may the wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum,
One day when the tonguing is done, we'll take our leave and go"
The ship began to regrow, stitching itself together as it's existence was replaced with that in the small glass bottle. It hovered in the air, the ropes going slack as it rose up some amount of inches, hefted by the arcane potency
"She had just come in from a great haul, docking onto port and shore
The captain called all and swore he take that haul in tow"
The Mss Anna Fitzhoray was really starting to come together, it's main mizzen mast has just started to stand up, reslotting itself back into it's original position.
"Soon may the wellerman come, to bring us sugar and tea and rum
One day when the tonguining is done we'll take our leave and go"
Completed, the Anna Fitzhoray dropped from it's floating reverie, falling into the water as the weight of gravity overtook it once more, taking the poor sailors that had hauled it up down with it. They hit the cobblestone with a clattering sound.
Jaune slumped, holding the glass bottle, now the model ship floating on dark and choppy water, held in his hands. "aww, I didn't even get to finish the song."
Well, that makes sense. We would have had to train the ship to recognize itself as the model a lot longer if the model wasn't a model ship and you know, a rock or something. B muttered, reminding Jaune how magic worked. Which seemed a little oxymoronic considering it was magic.
Jaune shrugged, taking out a pile of folders out of his breast pocket. "Captian, here you are. These are the ships papers, hold onto her until we return. Also, might I suggest some good coverings for you and the crew?"
The captian blinked, unsure why the suggestion was even being made. "ya callen me ugly or something?"
Jaune's head teetered back and forth. "well, I hate to say it, but you look like an All Hallows Eve decoration that was left out for a couple years and had some water beetles make a nest out of your face."
Captain Hathway's face scrunched up, clearly off put by the description. "Right. Alrighty then, men. Get thi' ship in tip o th mornin shape!"
Jaune handed the papers over, letting the captian quickly look through them. "Right o in all ordor. See you the mornin, sir?"
The ranger gave him one final nod. "Of course." He said before turning on his heels, swiftly approaching Nadir. "welp, our work is done here."
Nadir blinked at him, his gaze shifting from his teammate to the undead sailors, and back to his teammate. "I am going to assume your semblance is not creating dust out of your body, unless there are some different properties to dust regarding souls that humankind has yet to discover?"
That made Jaune stop and think for a moment. He blinked, before turning to look into the pink haired man's eyes. There was, if one listed closely, a faint creaking sound with the movement.
"What do you think? Do you think dust does have something in common with our souls?" was the simple question. Nadir's face scrunched in confusion for a moment, before his expression widened in horror.
"I do not like what that answer implies Jaune." He said, following the striding huntsman. "I don't like that at all."
Arslan would have been lying if she wasn't slightly concerned. Dinner had passed almost four and a half hours ago, and she had yet to see either Nadir or Jaune. Jaune not being seen was a common occurrence, as he went as he pleased. Nadir was less likely to not be seen, either appearing for dinner or appearing afterwards and while not having Nadir in sight for any extended period of time was stress inducing and not having Jaune in sight was nerve wracking, not having the both of them spelled disaster.
Disaster with a capital D when they both refused to answer their scrolls.
They're fine. They're big boys, they can handle themselves. She told herself, dispelling the tension from her mind as she ran the heavy wooden red beads through her hands.
Her scroll started to ping, more and more messages showing up. Taking a deep breath through her nose, it escaped out from pursed lips as she looked through the Accordion notifications. Apparently, Nadir had made a post.
101101: is there a form of dust that can commit necromancy?
SUNNY_SIDE_UP: This was just a confused face emoji, followed by a question mark. Arslan had to roll her eyes a bit, knowing that it was probably the worst form of communication.
Rheese, bless her, came to Nadir's prompting rescue.
Sk8t3rG: What? Like, raising the dead reviving old matter kind of thing
101101: yes.
SeaGodz: You mean raising zombies? Rising the dead, like from Evil Dead?
101101: Haven't seen that movie, so maybe? It's a distinct possibility. Me and Jaune were at the Port Section recently to get a ship, and Jaune decided to raise the dead? In other news, we have a ship now. The MSS Anna Fitzhoray.
NobleLion, should I inform Jaune to start prepping for the voyage? I don't think he managed to reanimate several weeks' worth of stores tonight.
SeaGodz: I feel that we are seriously overlooking a major aspect of the sentence above, Nadir.
Sk8t3rG: Agree.
Sun just responded with a thumbs up emoji
Sk8t3rG: Back the fuck up.
Sk8t3rG: All they back to the top.
Sk8t3rG: Jaune raised the dead.
101101: yes. He did this chanting thing and the old crew of the MSS Anna Fitzhoray crawled up onto land and Jaune gave them the papers and told them to put a mask on. Anyway, NobleLion, we're pretty close to campus, so I'll have you discuss the trip logistics with us in person. Also, SUNNY_SIDE_UP, should we expect your team to be coming with us?
Several people are typing….
Arslan put her phone down, looking blankly at the wall.
101101: Jaune also made a concerning indication regarding the content and or origin of dust. He might have implied that they are made out of human souls?
That made Arslan groan, collasping into her hands. Fuuuuuuuuuck. She mentally lambasted, rubbing at her temples. There was the headache.
And there was the jingling of the lock as someone was entering. She steeled herself as she stood up and faced the door. It was opened to Jaune and Nadir, both rather wet, stumbling into the main shared space. They froze, looking at their leader.
"Both of you. Explain. Now." She growled, pushing the blonde into a chair. He let himself get toppled over, collasping down into it.
"we needed a ship?" he offered weakly. Arslan growled, leaning in to get uncomfortably close to his face.
Ooohhhyeah, this is doing it for us. A shuddered as he relaxed into the couch. Damn, just look at the intensity in those things.
You do realize she's going to kill us, right? B said, smacking the figment upside the head.
A let out a content sigh. Well then I am dying a happy man. He grinned.
Jaune in the meantime had two alarms going off in his head. The first one was the "Pretty girl in face, help" alarm, which was being drowned out by the much stronger, much more dangerous "Oh fuck danger" alarm.
Arslan's nostrils flared out, her eyes sharpening. "Do not be coy with me, Jaune." She said as evenly as she could, like a knife. Perfectly straightened and without defect on it's edge. It was then that the balde was sharpest after all.
"Yes Ma'am." Jaune gulped, nodding. "Very clear, Ma'am."
"What. Did. You. Do?" The question was asked. Jaune blinked for a moment, the pause hanging particuarly heavy in the air. Like a particularly sutffy room, or perhaps a noose.
"I might have done a little bit of spatial manipulation to reanimate a historic landmark because the sea based shipping oligarchy has a stranglehold on sea based travel and is currently refusing passage to Vale."
The grip on Jaune's collar tightened. "Really? Is that so? Because Nadir here is making claims of necromancy." Arslan said, now very close. Somewhere between standing infront of Jaune and bending over to be in his face and straddling his lap. In the back of his head, where A resided, he would be enjoying it if he wasn't fearing for his life.
His mouth felt like cotton had just been put in it, leaving it dry and uncomfortable. "yeah, ah, about that. We needed a crew, and it was a lot easier to animate the bodies and knowledge of the originoal crew than it would have been to hire one and explain?"
Arslan just stared at him.
And stared at him
And stared at him.
Letting go, and finally deciding that she would be, indeed, sitting on Jaune's lap, she help up her hands in surrender. "let-let me get this straight." She started, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You-" She started as her pinching hand poked Jaune rather roughly in the chest. "You decided that you would, instead of using your untold resources and riches, go to a historical land mark, at night, reanimate said historical land mark, summon the dead to pilot that crew, and in order to do this I presume you broke into the docks as well?"
Nadir chose this exact moment to speak. If only he spoke on Jaunes defense. "No. We made forged docking permits, ownership deeds, and routing permissions before hand."
Both Jaune and Arslan turned their heads to look at the pink haired man.
"you are not helping." Jaune groaned, only to be shaken by the collar again.
"You did more!?"
Now Jaune was in trouble. "uhhhh-"
Arslan's voice dropped as she started to rub her temples. "Why are these things you can just do? You are going to be the death of me." She groaned, thumping her head into Jaune's shoulder. "it's late and your out there just- just raising the dead apparently? Actually, no, let's go back to that." She said, regaining some of her fervor at that. "Are they actually… corpses?"
Jaune nodded slowly, as though doing so might set off a bomb somewhere.
"Gods help us all." Arslan muttered in Feral.
Jaune was left unsure as to what to do in this position, so he just sat there as Arslan had her conniption for a moment.
"Sooo, I take it raising the dead is an issue?" Jaune offered, if only to say something. Arslan raised her head up to look at him, squinting as though she could physically see if it was a joke or not if she looked close enough.
"For your sake, I hope that was an appeal to a sense of humor." She finally decided on, standing up, hands on her hips. "This is what is going to happen. Because someone decided we were leaving-"This was rather pointed at Jaune, as though their departure by boat was his fault.
I doubt somehow anyone is surviving the bullhead trip if we didn't go by boat. B argued weakly. Jaune was smart enough to not repeat it.
"You are going to be in charge of making sure that this trip goes without a hitch. Food, letting Headmaster Lionheart know, organizing housing for when we get there. Everything. And this trip had better go smoothly, understand?" Arslan growled, and somehow the ranger knew that the response "or what?" was a good one
Jaune let out another gulp, nodding. Arslan nodded, letting out a humph before heading back to bed.
Whipped. A snarked, taking cover behind the couch as Jaune threw a metaphysical lamp at him.
"Hey, Nadir, when do we have to leave in order to be on time for Vytal?" Jaune asked from his chair.
"Three days? Four if we're lucky with good winds"
Jaune frowned at that. "damn". Jaune suddenly had a lot of work to do.
Well, we are finally getting there, the last true arc of this story. Am I jumping the shark? a little bit, yeah. I didn't want to just hand wave it away with "oh, Jaune has a boat now.". And besides, I get to drive Arslan just a little bit more insane. It's a shorter chapter, but I wanted to get something out before Christmas break really started up for me. Hopefully I will get another one out soon, but who knows?
unfortunately this is in the slump of "This section I really haven't planned out." and is waking world filler so I can make space to bring the dream to an end. Man this story was not thought through fully.