Chapter 8: The Fox and the Doggo, Like a House on Fire
As with every category Jaune had visited in the Marketplace thus far, the Food tab offered a lot of choices. Some items Jaune recognized, while other available meals featured fantastical ingredients not found anywhere on Remnant. He swore to himself that he will one day try out the Dragon Steak (tail cut) and Phoenix Egg (poached).
For the sake of today's demonstration, he bought two containers of sushi. Each cost 3 Points, though that was less a reflection of quality and more being the case for mundane meals in general. Instant ramen packages carry the same price tag. A simple hamburger, ditto. If he had to guess, it came down to a matter of supply and demand. Fish, rice, beef, and flour can probably be sourced as needed from different universes, since both Remnant and Earth Bet (the name of her world according to Tattletale) had them; in normal, everyday circumstances—i.e. when not trapped in a doorless room with zero ways to call for restaurant takeout—people can buy all of those foodstuff with money. The dish made by a five-star (or higher) chef using the sap of a million-year old tree and meat from a space turtle was a bit harder to put together, and the corresponding price reflected that.
Tattletale pretended she had not been impressed at first, saying how the scroll was just a glorified food delivery service. She has gotten quieter and quieter with the passing minutes, however, and now sat with her face buried in the screen, engrossed. Her sushi lay half-eaten nearby.
Jaune left her to it, occupied by his own meal. After the hectic… dangerous… insane events of the recent past, he discovered in the normality of this scene a precious thing he had not known he treasured. It harkened back to the good old days of last week where he and his team would commandeer a table at the cafeteria for breakfast, eating in companionable silence—or as silent as can be when Nora was present—before they departed for classes. The peace never lasted long since it was Beacon they were talking about, but for a few minutes all would be well in the world.
"Oh?"
And then somebody would inevitably break the comfortable illusion. How like home.
He has grown familiar with the tone and pitch of that sound in the past hour. It signaled that an unbridled curiosity has been piqued, and so far always preceded a certain behavior. Without looking, he reached out to grab the hand inching toward the keyfob that would deactivate the choker on Tattletale's neck.
"Do you really think that's a good idea?"
His guest flashed a confident grin, which did not reassure him much. She displayed that same smugness on the previous occasions.
"Oh, ye of little faith. I've already solved that problem! My ability is rooted in observation, and I can usually analyze a target in an instant. Something about this device is blocking me—" She scrunched her nose, glaring at the scroll with peevish distaste. "—so that's not the play here. No, I instead studied it in detail without activating my power to familiarize myself with the minutia beforehand, and now I'll Think on it to unlock all the hidden secrets this little guy is trying to hide. Watch me. It'll work."
Such determined eyes…
Ten Lien on this backfiring. Rather than saying that out loud, Jaune released her hand. "If you say so, then."
With a push of a button, the Inhibitor powered down. In the opening seconds, it seemed to have gone well. Tattletale's face morphed into an expression of wonder as she read the words on the screen.
"Ow!"
And then, pain. She fumbled to turn the choker back on, missing the keyfob with her fingers due to her eyes staying riveted on the scroll, unable to look away despite the intensifying headache. Jaw clenched, Tattletale hissed under her breath, not protesting when Jaune took her hand again and guided her to press the correct button. Afterward, she slumped on the table, rubbing at her eyes.
"Catch your breath. Don't make sudden movements." Jaune leaned down to get a look at her. "You good?"
"Yeah…" A tentative raise of the head. A blink. Two. Tattletale exhaled. "Ugh, that could have gone better. Why didn't you stop me?"
Jaune shrugged, retrieving the scroll. "A lifetime of wrangling little sisters says not to. Some lessons are best learned when self-taught. Besides, you're doing better. I saw how you were trying to shut off your power when it became too much to bear. Good job! And you don't fall unconscious anymore." The unsubtle positive reinforcement earned him a glare. He took heart that she did not bite his head off, and jotted it down as another win for the Jaune Arc's Handbook (For Surviving a House Full of Annoying Blondes).
"Whose fault is that, I wonder?" She groused. Jaune gave a nervous chuckle, and averted his eyes.
So, as it turned out, Tattletale had a problem and 90% of it came from [Blank] . Whoops. The room, the outside view, and the scroll each contributed to the mental burden, but stacking his power on top of those was what pushed her over the edge, the deluge of stimuli that would greet her upon regaining consciousness invariably drawing a path back to him at which point her brain loses the ability to draw conclusions. Without the anti-Thinker effect, she soon acclimatized to their surroundings after repeated exposure, the planet in the sky now a nonissue to her senses. The Company's device, however, did retain a tendency to send her into a spiral of speculations on other universes, the nature of existence, and the nebulous intentions of the shadowy entity known as The Company until she short-circuited.
That last one, now that he thought about it, might be to blame for her predicament. After all, the scroll was smarter than it let on.
He revised the statement when Tattletale, without hesitation, deactivated the choker the moment her headache faded, freeing her power to roam. Half the fault, at the minimum, belonged to the girl herself.
"I resent that!"
It was very hard to not see her as a mindreader when she would respond to his thoughts.
"You might as well consider me one. There's nothing that you can hide from these eyes!"
"Uh-huh. I'm of the opinion that you would benefit greatly from thinking less about 'can', and more about 'should'. In the interest of you not harming yourself—" Tattletale jolted at that, for what reason he has yet to understand. "—It's best if I confiscate this," Jaune said, shaking the scroll in his hand for emphasis, to her immediate protest.
"Wait, I'm doing just fine! And I was on the verge of sussing out some juicy tidbits! Let me see!" She scrambled out of her seat. Jaune hopped back from the girl and held the device out of her reach as she bounced up and down, trying to grab at it.
"That's kind of what I'm worried about, Tattletale! This thing is more sophisticated than it seems. It might have a security feature like my [Blank] —"
"To protect the Company's proprietary technology? Yeah, I thought of that ages before you did. But doesn't that make you want to crack it open even more? C'mon, live a little." Tattle said, grinning. She did that a lot.
Jaune was not convinced by the call to adventure. "Look, there's a point where you have to admit that you're outmatched." The narrowing of her eyes suggested he had said the wrong thing. Hastily, he moved on. "Besides, the purpose of lending you the scroll was so you can see that I was telling the truth."
The grin took on a predatory air, somewhat akin to a cat looking at a mouse. "Hmmm. I dunno. Fighting monsters of darkness, then dying and coming back to a new world. Going toe to toe with Leviathan. Saving girls left and right. It sounds like a fairy tale…or a delusion."
Gurgh! His heart, it hurts. She's kind of right, though. What even was his life?
"Honestly? Fair. I'm having trouble coming to grips with it, and I lived it. Still, I've provided you with what evidence I have and, frankly, the truth isn't going to change just because you believe otherwise." He spread his arms to encompass the room. "This is our reality, and we need to figure out how to proceed from here. I wish I could return you home, but that's beyond me. Instead, here's what I was thinking—"
"Bup bup bup!" Tattletale interjected, silencing him by pressing a finger to his lips. "I'm going to stop you right there. Your planning ability hasn't impressed me much so far."
Jaune tilted his head away to avoid her finger. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Your 'plan' boiled down to diving headlong into one universe after another and pillaging anything not bolted down. Alright. Respect. Nothing like a spree of smash-and-grabs to get the heart racing." Not the term he would use. Tattletale gave a sudden laugh. "But not untrue, even if you'd prefer to sugarcoat it. Anyway, I'm telling you right now, as a verified expert in the fine art of asset liberation, that your current method isn't tenable in the long run."
Asset liber— Jaune pointed a finger at her face. "You're a thief!"
"A Villain, thank you." She proclaimed without missing a beat. "And you don't have room to talk, Mr. Steals-Everybody's-Tinkertech. Ooooh, and that's not the first crime you've committed! Well, well, well. You're not the goody-two-shoes I thought you were. Blue collar, white collar, fraud—forgery? Was it financial—no, academic! Awww, that means it's just a misdemeanor instead of a felony, how adorable. Although, that's not the reason you feel guilty, is it? I wonder, do you truly deserve to be a hero when your Hero School papers are… a lie… wait, hang on, why didn't the faculty kick you out if they knew? What are they, cracked in the head?" Tattletale complained as the wind was taken out of her sail.
The bewildered expression sparked a quiet amusement in Jaune. He likely wore a similar look on his own face the day Headmaster Ozpin revealed he had known of the transcripts the whole time.
The long-suppressed doubts drawn forth by Tattletale settled back into the calm seas of his mind. There had been a moment of kneejerk panic, but what did he have to worry about? The matter was over and done with. Ozpin claimed to have seen potential in him, and allowed him the chance to prove it. He has yet to fail, and once he succeeded in returning to Remnant with the means to protect everyone, nobody can deny his worth.
"If you succeed. Like I said, your current course will end in failure."
Annoyed, Jaune said, "How's that, then?"
The smile Tattletale wore now was the widest he had ever seen. In a lecturing, condescending, tone of voice, she detailed all the things he had failed to consider, revealing the true scope of the daunting task he had set out to accomplish. A proper base of operation, intelligence on the worlds he will travel to, a gameplan to get in and out, weapons, utility tools, contingencies; the list of what he lacked went on and on.
At the start of his journey, he had expected, optimistically, that it would take him an undefined but short amount of time to accrue the Points needed to overcome Beacon's crisis. What did that involve again? An answer to three armies (Grimm, robots, White Fang), two mobile city-destroying siege weapons (a dragon, and a probable giant robot), and an assassin/magical girl able to fight on par with Ozpin who was touted as one of the Kingdom's best (and her team of lackeys).
Doable? He was looking at a full-on war campaign, translating to months of hopping universes, if not longer.
He needed to eat. Sleep. Live. That meant spending on daily meals, changes of clothes, toiletries, and a host of other commonplace things. The Marketplace can provide, but the costs added up in the long run, and trading treasures for cereals was a horrendous waste of Points. Restock from the Instances instead, and he would lose out on space for the valuables that were his goal, necessitating a constant balancing act. Maintenance will require another outlay, either of time or Points. Get his hands on an object too complicated, and it would be as useful as paperweight without the relevant operating knowledge. If he happened to have expended the entirety of his Points balance on it? Well, then it was goodbye Beacon.
By the end, Jaune was ready to go back and face the music. A fuckup like him can at least try to put his body between Pyrrha and an attack from the fire lady.
"—it's seriously laughable how little thought you put into thiiiis but, hey, you have the bare bones ready, now it's just a matter of building from there and I'm pretty sure a couple rounds of purchases from that online store would put you on the right track. You have loads of time anyway, if your world is frozen like you said. So, um, maybe you could do okay?"
There's no response. It's just a corpse.
The change in tune elicited no change to Jaune's mood. He sat slumped in his chair, and one would swear he had faded to an ashen white. Standing over him, Tattletale beheld her great work, and her expression was one of anxiousness bleeding into horror.
"You're not wrong, though," Jaune said, voice hollow. "I don't even have any real starting funds for my next run. The one thing of value I have on hand to pawn off is Crocea Mors, but it's not like the thing is worth that much either. Nowhere near the level of a lightsaber. I'm… I'm in a really bad spot, huh?"
"Pshaw, that's nothing! I've been in worse straits, and I made out like a bandit. You just need to, you know, use critical thinking and stuff. You don't have Points, and don't want to sell your family heirloom? That's okay! It doesn't necessarily have to be permanent. Trade it in now to tide over the hard times, and buy it back later when you're rich. See? The situation's not so hopeless already!" Some color returned to Jaune, not much. Tattletale continued, words spewing out in a rush, "L-Look, what's the sword worth? I can check the store to see what falls in the budget, and set you up with the basics. That should help you survive wherever it is you're going to next, and you can decide on your choices afterward. Fresh eyes and all that, you know? And let's maybe not go with whatever else you might have been thinking about?"
Jaune stared down at the scroll in his hand, not inclined to do much of anything. Tattletale reached over to tap the button that opened the screen, then dithered by his side, waiting in silence with a strange constipated face—
"It's a look of encouragement!"
—Ah, that. It did not suit her, seeming awkward and unpracticed.
"Shut uuuup!" Tattletale whined as Jaune at last cracked a smile. She sounded more relieved than angry.
He fired up the app, and navigated to the Sell page. Crocea Mors, by his recollection, was worth around six or seven hundred Points. A quick inspection confirmed it stood at seven hundred, and Jaune experienced a pang of disappointment at the thought of his ancestral blade failing to scratch the fabled (and arbitrary) milestone of a thousand Points. Then again, the number reflected what The Company was willing to pay. Its retail price on the Marketplace should be higher assuming his knowledge of basic economics held true. In the (very unlikely) event that he made the trade, he would have to check it out. For the ego boost if nothing else.
Putting a pin on the idea, Jaune was about to give Tattletale an answer when he noticed a discrepancy. The list of his possessions appeared longer than it should. Below his clothes and weapons was another line… h-h–how many Points!?
What could he have that was worth 14,000 Points? His gaze snapped to the other side of the screen. The words he saw there froze him solid.
Tattletale/Lisa Wilbourn/Sarah Livsey
In the ensuing silence, Jaune became starkly aware of the person next to him, who had broken out in a cold sweat after reading from his posture the new information. Who happened to carry a price tag according to the scroll. It considered her a product.
Just when he thought he understood how deep the rabbit hole went, a whole other level to The Company revealed itself. The Marketplace sold more than methods of enthralling women. In this new light, that 'Waifu' category took on a different meaning; it did not stock overpriced plastic figurines like he initially, and naively, believed. For the discerning customer, the scroll was all too willing to skip the intervening steps.
Twelve of her.
Twelve Tattletales and he can acquire the power to rain meteors from the sky. Thirty, and he would own an axe capable of cracking a continent in half—which he supposed a sufficient number of meteors can do, too, albeit with the fatal flaw of lighting him on fire.
Out of his periphery, he caught green eyes briefly darting to the screen, just long enough to catch her exact worth, before trailing to his thumb that was hovering way too close to the icon representing her. She made an attempt at affecting nonchalance, facial features trying to twitch into a semblance of confidence. It looked more like a grimace, and was further undermined by her clenched fists and shortened breaths. She may be the mindreader between the two of them, but at this moment Jaune had little trouble seeing the wheels spinning in that blonde head, calculating whether she could dive for the scroll faster than he could move.
And then, abruptly, she relaxed. A familiar grin made its return a full second ahead of Jaune—in a slow, careful motion—placing the scroll on the table and retracting his hand.
"W-Wooow, fourteen grand. You could have made bank. Didn't you say that pile of tinkertech you were lugging around added up to about ten? I see, I see. Who would've thought that I'm such an expensive gal~"
Now, say it again without the stutter, and he might believe her cool attitude was genuine.
"You have a superpower. I guess that's rarer than a fancy gun. It's a moot point, though, don't you think? Selling people really isn't in the cards." In his world, the SDC came closest to taking that backstep to last century, and even they were unwilling to go over the line. An entity seen as the devil incarnate by a not-insignificant subset of Remnant's population thought it would be too much.
Breaking news, it's official. The maker of this scroll he was using ranked higher on the evil scale than Jaques Schnee. What was the word for the opposite of an ethical consumer? Because that's him right now.
Somehow, somehow, Tattletale made it worse. "You'd be surprised at the number of people who disagree with that sentiment. Around the bay? There are… rumors."
Breaking news, it's official. Brockton Bay was right up there on the evil scale.
"First Leviathan, now slave trafficking? You live in literal hell," Jaune deadpanned.
"Yeeeah, that's good old BB's nickname," Tattletale drawled. "Along with 'Nazi-capital of the US' and 'Shithole'." She plopped down on a seat, and made a grabbing motion at the scroll. "Now, gimme."
"You mean it about helping me?" Jaune asked in astonishment. With some hesitation, he pushed the device nearer to her reach. Showing that she can learn, Tattletale dampened her power before picking it up.
"What with the face?" A pout. "I can be generous! A bit of freebie advice isn't a big deal, especially if it keeps you from giving up and doing something stupid…" The grumbling devolved into murmurs too soft for him to comprehend.
"Well, thanks. I owe you one."
Tattletale perked up. "Welcome~ I'll cash that in right now, if you don't mind."
"I- seriously?" Return to him his gratitude, dammit!
"Nihihi. You see, I'm just a poor, innocent girl adrift in the universe—" She snickered as Jaune mimed gagging. "—and I'd appreciate it if you can drop me off on any nice, peaceful world you come across."
"Hang on. Don't you want to go home?" Jaune asked, surprised.
Uh-oh. He might have touched a nerve, because the chatterbox named Tattletale stopped talking. She merely shrugged, continuing to peruse the Marketplace in pointed silence. A hint. Drop it.
The tap-tap-tapping of her fingers on the screen soon became the only sound in the apartment. Jaune fidgeted in his seat, unsure of what topic to broach with his previous question still burning at the forefront of his mind and not inclined to ruin the mood they had managed to build after the previous series of blunders.
"My life for the past year has been devoted to escaping Brockton Bay, and the hold a villain there has over me," Tattletale finally muttered.
"Oh." Okay, that was a pretty dang good reason. Jaune bit down on his next question, whether her situation had anything to do with her fear at the prospect of being 'Mastered'. No conversational precedent existed for asking someone if they also belonged to the Mind-Controlled By a Psycho Club, but he would guess that it counted as a faux-pas when directed at people he just met, and instead pivoted to safer grounds. "What about your family? Or your friends, like Skitter?"
A sigh. "The less said about my 'family', the better. My friends… Skitter left. She's with the heroes now from what you said, where she always wanted to be. As for the rest of my little team of ne'er-do-wells, they're fracturing bit by bit. I give it a couple of months before we dissolve. Beyond that, Earth Bet doesn't have much waiting for me." She looked up into his eyes. There was the barest tremble of her lip; it disappeared, and she flashed a wide smile. "This could be my fresh start."
"I'll make sure to get you to a good world," Jaune blurted out, unthinking.
"Heh. You damn well better."
All that they needed to say, has been said. An understanding was reached. The room settled into quiet tranquility.
It was not until a few minutes later, under a spray of water from the shower-head, that Jaune banged his head against the wall tiles in a bout of self-recrimination, chiding his stupid ass for pushing what must have been every single one of Tattletale's trauma buttons.
Hey, let's remind her of her failing personal relationships! Describe her attempt to show concern as 'constipated'! How about raising the possibility of her being sold to an extradimensional corporation of nonexistent morality? It would be a hoot!
Was this his Semblance? Did he have a special ability to drag a girl's hangups out into the light of day? According to Huntsman convention, people would name their Semblance when they discover it. His was going to be Open Mouth, Insert Foot.
Ugh. It may sound callous, but the day he parted ways with Tattletale could not arrive fast enough. She was not horrible company or anything on that level—worse than three, nowhere near all seven was her Annoying Blonde score in his professional judgment—but, as she said, it would be a fresh start, one that spared him the embarrassing memories of today.
Having washed away the grime of his ordeal, Jaune turned off the shower and, due to habit, put out a hand in the direction he would normally hang his towel. He swiped empty air.
Right, no towel.
Poking his head out of the stall, he searched the bare-boned bathroom, which continued the same theme as the rest of the apartment. Very sleek. Very modern. It exuded a stark, impersonal feel and lacked the personal items that said a person lived here. A careful inspection failed to conjure forth even a tissue, as he had already known. Left with no good option, Jaune shook like a dog to try and get rid of the water clinging to his body—however the furry fellas manage it, he envied them, because he was still damp by the end—before stepping out. His clothes, hung up on the sink in a vain hope that they would dry, were likewise somewhat moist when he donned them.
One thing Tattletale got right, it sucked living without the little conveniences he grew up with. Cups to drink water, a blanket for when he's cold, clean outfits to wear, soap. He also had not brushed his teeth yet in at least twenty four hours.
A day of hoofing it was fine. A week was endurable. A month spent in filth…just no.
He supposed it's similar to what was taught in class at Beacon. When embarking on a Huntsman mission, you would preferably not rush in headlong if the situation allowed it. Pack your own gear, in case your destination could not provide. Scoping out the scene was the prudent thing to do, and always check in with the people of the settlement to gain an idea of what you were facing. He really jumped the gun on his first world, huh?
Brockton Bay… it was a mess and a half, but was also a true unknown at the time. He did well, all things considered. He had learned from his mistakes.
The next Instance will show better results. The one after, even more so. Step by step, he will advance toward his goal.
Determination reinvigorated, Jaune exited the bathroom as a new man, eager to take on the universe. Tattletale, his font of knowledge on the so-called path of smash-and-grabs, was still where he left her, sitting at the table. He wandered over in the hope of an update. She ignored his greeting and stared unblinking at the scroll.
That was…worrying.
"Are you okay? Did you get trapped in a loop again?"
A small shake of her head. She remained quiet for another minute.
Finally, she spoke, idly asking, "How hard are these worlds to take on, would you say?"
"Well, I've only done it once, so don't call me an expert, but the first one put me in Brockton Bay the day Leviathan attacked."
Tattletale winced, and mumbled under her breath. He caught a snippet.
"...there goes that idea…"
A second period of silence ensued. Longer, this time, as the girl struggled through a personal train of thought.
"But you survived," she declared.
"I did. Otherwise, I wouldn't be in front of you."
She nodded slowly. Jaune drew closer to see what had her so fascinated.
[Res— the screen winked out. Tattletale spun to face him, and he was taken aback by the serious expression with nary a smirk or grin. In another disturbing sight, that motormouth of hers worked to find the words to say.
"Hey. I've been thinking… You're obviously in over your head."
"Yes," he admitted. It was the simple truth, he can own up to that. But, while he may have yet to find his footing, his heart was set on this path for the sake of—
"Dueling Leviathan? Your dumb brain is going to get you killed one of these days. You need all the help you can get."
"Okay. It's getting a little mean now. You can stop bashing me anytime," he deadpanned. Thankfully, she did, and proceeded to the point.
"So, I've got an offer for you. I'm going to stick around, and lend you the benefit of my intellect."
Jaune blinked three times in rapid succession, before blurting out, "Hang on, really? I mean, not that I'm doubting your sincerity, but—"
She cut him off, continuing on as if oblivious. "In exchange, those Points you're gonna get? Allow me a share of it. I want to make a purchase."
Understanding dawned. Just as he did, she had found in the Marketplace the means of attaining her heart's desire.
Jaune pondered the merits of the proposal. The obvious detriment was having another mouth to feed, specifically in regards to Point gain. It would extend the timeline further than the current projection, which was already stretched too far for his taste.
Also, Tattletale; no more need be said on the matter.
As for benefits? Damn her for offering, because she was making sense. He was the guy whose winning play for attending Beacon started with defrauding the institution and ended with lies, lies, and more lies, with the cracks paved over by a copious amount of wishful optimism. Have a short-term problem, like a fight? Give him enough pieces to play with, and he can muddle through it one way or another. Ask him to build a roadmap spanning longer than a week, and watch him implode. He could use the support, someone whose brain he can pick for ideas.
And… It's lonely here, in this room of gray walls and white ceiling.
"If the offer is genuine, then I would welcome the company. Fifty/fifty split?"
"Good! I knew you'd see reason. Let's talk…shares…wait, did you say fif—I mean, DEAL! No take-backsies~" In a turnaround to make one's head spin, Tattletale was all smiles, positively bouncing in glee.
He overpaid, didn't he?
Peering down at the elated girl, Jaune mulled on the possible consequences should he, indeed, commit the sin of take-backsies squiggly line.
He forgot she was a borderline mindreader. Power activated, she studied his body language to detect the lingering indecision, and responded by doubling down on the show of earnest gratitude. Faker than fake, and oh so nostalgic, Annoying Blondes truly were the same in any universe.
A roll of his eyes conveyed his awareness of her ploy, followed by him putting out a hand.
"Happy to be working with you…hm, is it Lisa Wilbourn? Or Sarah Livsey?"
"Gasp!" She verbalized the sound. "I can't reveal my secret identity to my kidnapper!" The comment lacked bite, more teasing than snarky. All the while, the mask of her emotions kept slipping, falling back to this odd, sort of shell-shocked look, the grin permanently affixed.
"It can be Lisarah. Don't think I won't."
"Snrk. Fine." She took his hand, and shook on it. "Call me Lisa, ya goof."
Author's Notes: You know what they say, the real treasure was the friends you made along the way. Which is why, in a WC system, selling people is playing the game right; they're worth a lot more than piddly battlefield loot. The option for easy mode is always there, available at the click of a button.
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A manipulator, sure. But a master manipulator? If she was, people's impression of Tattletale in canon wouldn't be 'that arrogant, insufferable know-it-all'.
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What did Lisa see for sale? What does she wish for above all, but could never have? Those who read Worm might be able to take a guess. Otherwise, it'd take Jaune a while to find out.
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Not everyone is familiar with the Waifu Catalog/CYOA genre, or Worm, or RWBY. So, if you have a question about it, do ask, since not everything can be expounded on in the narrative.