Jaune's banking on good outcomes. His idea wasn't that out there. In fact, it made perfect sense. To him.
"Yup, just here." Standing behind the scaly beast, he pointed with a hand as he spoke to the girl capable of summoning miniature suns. "Can you make the ball big enough to engulf it?"
"I c-can, but…" The superhero glanced sidelong at Leviathan, hands wringing. "It's not alive, is it? Like, this isn't a person that I am going to k– attack?"
It wasn't hard to catch the slip, and to guess what the girl was hung up on. She abhorred the prospect of killing. Whether she was brave or foolish to still participate today despite that, Jaune couldn't rightly say, but his respect for her rose a few notches because of it. Heroes and idiots have always found a home in Beacon.
"I doubt it," Jaune denied. "That thing's more akin to some ancient Grimm than a human."
"Greem?" She asked, tilting her head.
That one mangled word said it all. They don't have Grimm here. Wow.
No engulfing darkness, with civilization driven to the brink of extinction? No ravening horde descending on a town due to one person feeling too sad that day? Hot damn.
Then again, there's an eminently lethal, city-destroying monster in their place. It's not all sunshine and rainbows in this universe. But, still. He hadn't even considered there could exist a place where he might have to explain what a Grimm was.
Faced with someone who had never known of life's enemy and in all likelihood wouldn't believe him on it, Jaune waffled a bit for an excuse.
"Uhhh, it's a fictional creature." Inspiration struck. "From a comic book. A very niche one you probably wouldn't have read. I'm a nerd like that. Anywho, the details aren't important. What I was getting at is that Leviathan is probably, you know, that sort of thing. One of those thousands-of-years-old, monster-from-the-deep types like you see in the movies. It's not human, and never was."
He sure hoped they have creature-feature cinema here, or he would have just outed himself as coming from somewhere else. Or left the impression that he's a loon.
"I guess that makes sense…" So she said, but the hero remained yet uncertain. She stared up at Leviathan without speaking, shifting from foot to foot.
"It's okay if you don't want—"
Jaune bit off the rest of the sentence as the girl took in a deep breath. Her chest rose and fell once, twice, thrice before she seemed to muster her courage, striding in front of him. Holding her hands a short distance apart, she peered down at something in them.
Jaune peeked over her shoulders to see her power at work, and regretted it pretty much instantly. A flicker of light, accompanied by a roaring sound, flashed between her hands for a fraction of a second, bright to the point that it left spots dancing in his vision. He squinted his eyes and turned from another flare, this one lasting a touch longer. The temperature made a sudden jump, shooting past uncomfortable to become so hot that the rain around the summoner transformed to steam. Jaune's Aura softly glowed as it registered an attack upon his body. There had to be another aspect to her power, because the girl was unphased by the heat.
"You might want to step back. A lot." She said, while standing on dry land in the middle of a flooded street during a hurricane. Heeding the suggestion, Jaune skipped back a few yards. Then, a few more when that proved insufficient. Around him, others followed suit.
Above the girl's hands now floated an orb of fire, baseball-sized. A couple of flickers later and it compared to a basketball. The orb began a slow flight towards Leviathan, growing over time. Meanwhile, the hero backed away, keeping her gaze on the ball as she retreated to where Jaune was waiting.
Halfway there, an armored hand crashed down on her shoulder, squeezing so hard that she let out a cry of pain.
"Shut it off!" Armsmaster snarled. When she instead stammered in confusion, he slammed his halberd into the road to emphasize the command. "NOW!"
"B-but—" She cringed as more shouting drowned out her protest. Jaune rushed over, and tried to segue between the two of them. Armsmaster's attention snapped to him.
"You are not in the database of participants," he declared with absolute certainty, then proceeded to observe Jaune from head to toe before focusing on his face. "Rags and souvenirs. No mask. Are you a new parahuman?" His lips curled in scorn. "Or are you a civilian who snuck in to meet heroes?"
A rumbling passed through the crowd of onlookers, fueled by open-mouthed astonishment. With great care, Jaune smiled to hide his ignorance, hoping that nobody would press for an answer. He had only an inkling of what a parahuman was from the context, enough to know he wasn't one, but professing to the contrary appeared the worse choice judging by the hostile atmosphere.
Deflecting, he said, "I'm the person who came up with this plan. I asked her to help me."
The good news? His admission succeeded in warding off further questions on his background. Bad news, it otherwise didn't go over that well, triggering the man's ire.
"There is ALREADY a plan, one which you two are impeding," Arsmaster growled. "Desist. At. Once."
Jaune, perhaps unwisely, declined to roll over on the man's say-so. "Look, can we at least give it a shot? You want to deal damage, she summons a frigging sun! There's a mutual interest here. When Leviathan unfreezes, it'll get a few thousand degrees to the face and—boom!—Patch Fried Lizard." Instincts drove him to search for a blonde mane of hair and a gauntleted fist after making that comment on Patch island, before he remembered the violent woman was a universe away from here. One silver lining to getting punted out of Remnant, this Ansel boy can throw shade on the other regions of Vale with impunity.
"Her power is untested." Armsmaster almost spat the word, it seeming to offend him on a base level. "Nothing has indicated it to match the sun in thermal output. Our strongest Blasters, good people whose powers have been rigorously researched, cannot land a decisive strike on Leviathan, and you think you can? Are you so arrogant to believe that your ability can surpass that of Legend!?"
Oh, that's just dirty pool.
Jaune spotted the very moment that the tide turned against him and the girl. As the name 'Legend' resounded through the staging ground, the stances of those in the vicinity shifted to face the two of them. Arms proceeded to cross and lips set in frowns or sneers, many scoffing as they dismissed the whelps who dared to besmirch the beloved hero's memory.
"You children think you have all the answers, yet you did not even consider how your doomed attempt would affect the rest of us." The armored hero pointed at the ball of fire. "That thing will blind anybody trying to keep an eye on the beast. What will you do when Leviathan escapes our net and annihilates everyone here, because we can't see it coming? It'd all be on you two fools if we fail!"
Jaune argued, "Or, it could work and we end the match in one big opener. Doesn't this monster warrant taking that kind of risk? Besides, there's ways to mitigate the visual effect. Aren't our eyes open right now? We can still see." His rebuttal garnered a few nods, a couple expressions of intrigue. Not nearly enough.
Just then, a new figure interrupted the confrontation—it was the superhero whose equipment Jaune coveted—and he moved to stand next to the hero in blue. A glance from one party to the other, to the miniature sun and back again, gave the impression that he was granting the possibility careful thought.
Hope reared its head, growing alongside the silence. In bated breath Jaune waited, as did everybody else, for the impromptu tiebreaker to render his judgment. Maybe, just maybe, he would agree to let it ride.
Reaching a conclusion, the knight-hero spoke. He projected his voice loud and clear for all present to hear.
"Armsmaster is an experienced hero who has taken part, and proven himself, in multiple Endbringer fights. I trust him implicitly."
…bastard.
"At the current juncture, he is in command of this operation, his authority superseded only by the Tri- the surviving members of the Triumvirate. You are expected to defer to his expertise in all circumstances. Disobeying an order from him cast our efforts and sacrifices thus far in jeopardy."
Reputation. Trust. The person that took umbrage with him was one who has established his bona fides, a core member of this alliance. It therefore mattered not one whit the merits of Jaune's idea or how well he presented his case. Those were not even taken into consideration. The heroes occupying the top ranks will without question stand by their fellow, lending him their support out of camaraderie and presenting a united front through thick and thin against malcontents like the blond nobody that was Jaune.
It should have been a sight to inspire. Standing on the outside, he would call it an obstinate blindness, plain and simple.
Pure smugness oozed off the man in blue across from him. He stepped closer to loom over Jaune and the sun-hero, the latter of whom received a hard stare.
To her, Armsmaster remarked, "And when such mutiny comes from a villain, it certainly calls into question your level of dedication in this battle."
Vil…lain?
The sun winked out of existence, its absence casting them into a darker, near-night visibility. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jaune watched the girl shrink in on herself, and he seethed in fury at the triumphant smirk that flitted past Armsmaster's face, too quick for anyone but him to catch.
There's a desire to ask his ally about what was said, the curiosity couldn't be helped, but he clamped down on that impulse in favor of shooting back at the older man.
"Hey! Don't just accuse—" He got no further. Deeming him no longer a concern, Armsmaster marched past Jaune, bashing an armored shoulder against his fabric-covered own to make him stumble.
"Follow your orders!" He barked with an air of finality. It was a signal for the assembled combatants to return to their tasks, running every which way in a flurry of activities. Looking around, there were no allies to be had among them. Some shook their heads in pity. More would rather throw a last nasty glare at them before leaving for their assigned positions. Armsmaster, in what to Jaune's view was a direct reversal of his former stance, got to work strapping a small pile of bombs to Leviathan, explosives that failed when Ms. Militia used them and bearing a fraction of the destructive potential of a mini sun. Not a single person gainsay him.
Jaune pulled the hood of the poncho low to hide his downcast eyes.
What kind of superhero treats other people like that? People on the same side, no less. The browbeating, the power play, Armsmaster was only interested in winning the confrontation, his mind unwavering throughout. It's doubtful if he had spared any true regard to the gambit before dismissing it out of hand.
So, what now?
There's got to be a way to beat this thing. He just didn't know how. His best plan was shot, and he knew too little about the abilities of the other superheroes, rendering it impossible to formulate a strategy. They wouldn't give him the time of day after that disagreement, in any case.
As for following the proposal Armsmaster put forward…nobody said where he should go. People were taking their cue from the chirpings of the armbands, something he personally lacked due to his spontaneous involvement. He couldn't get any orders.
He could guess, though. With his Aura and Crocea Mors, he wasn't about to do much to Leviathan. He's weak, meaning it'd be the outskirts for him; A simple lookout duty to warn others if Leviathan escapes down his route.
Jaune scoffed.
Escape. What a joke. That thing goes where it pleases.
His approach had run counter to that of the other man. Of course it did. Jaune pushed for a greater offensive that bordered on an all-or-nothing play because he had visualized the end result of the holding action advocated by Armsmaster. The number of casualties paving that path boggled the mind. Splitting up to prevent heroes dying in droves made sense, but to spread out to the extent of stationing each combatant by themselves, then leaving them to their own devices? A lone fighter would draw all of Leviathan's ire, guaranteeing their death in a matter of seconds.
It's a poor tactic, all told, born of desperation. He'd observed the heroes (and villains), and many were geared for one thing or another. Offense. Defense. Movement. Esoteric effects. Few can boast of having it all. Apart, Leviathan would overwhelm each person on every front.
Put some of them together, however…
Organize the combatants as teams in the style of Beacon, balance the mix, and see what a difference it could make. One to attack, one to defend, another to get them out of trouble, and so on. Give them a chance to deal damage and survive. Or the hope of it, at least.
Instead, their lot was to be offered up one by one as sacrifices to sate the monster's hunger. It's enough to make a person despair. Truly it did.
So, again, what now?
A hand tapped a soft beat on his arm. Turning towards the culprit, he came face-to-visor with the summoner, who answered the questioning tilt of his head by holding up her wrist, on which an armband sat.
To his amazement, the thin fabric worked somewhat like a scroll. Bright lines drew a minimalist rendition of a map, with colored dots and arrows to denote objectives. One arrow led straight at Leviathan. Another was blinking, and led southwest of here according to the compass. Was that where she's redeploying?
She took a step that way, waving for him to come along.
…He could have hugged this person right about then. Falling in line with her, they started to wade through the water.
"Thanks, I was a little lost on what to do," he said, then glanced over his shoulder. "And hey, I'm sorry for dragging you into that mess back there. If I knew the guy was going to blow up on us, I would have…well, I probably would have still tried it, but I'll knock him out beforehand."
The summoner's hands flew up to her cloth mask, stifling a laugh. And while it faded all too soon due to the pall cast by Leviathan, Jaune was glad to see the tension slowly ease off of her. After regaining her composure, she shrugged, murmuring, "I thought it was a good plan. It's weird that he shut us down so hard, I wonder why?"
He wanted an answer to the same, too. Something beside weak excuses boiling down to 'my eyes are sensitive' and 'we know better, you shut up'.
"And, and!" His companion gave a quick bow. "Thanks so much for taking the hit for me earlier. I was a sitting duck and if not for you, it could have been really bad."
His heart lifted at the comment. That's one thing he did right.
"You're welcome. I can't bring anything special to the table, but I hope my shield arm can at least be of some use."
"A-about that, I was actually thinking we could work together?" She asked. A note of eagerness rang clear in her tone. "My outfit doesn't make for the best protection, as you can see." Yep. He can. It featured thin armor plating in places, but hugged her figure on the whole, and the red suns were more decorative than practical. It reminded him of Huntsman fashion. "But with me on DPS and you playing tank, we might do better than if we're alone. What do you say?"
What does he say? She had just put into words—albeit more gamified—the very concepts bouncing around in his head!
He can't save the day. Jaune no longer harbored any delusion of accomplishing such a miraculous feat. Leviathan was simply too strong. But he can offer one person his shield, for what it's worth, as they try to survive in this battle until the hero Scion arrives. And with her overwhelming firepower, they stood a chance of making a difference, however small.
"Done!" He put out a hand. After a second, his ally reached out to clasp it in hers. They shook on it, and Jaune continued the conversation as they turned a corner. "Since we're teaming up, I suppose we're overdue for an introduction. I'm Jaune Arc." Wait, he should have given out a hero name! Inwardly lamenting the lost opportunity, he said, "What do they call you? In costume, I mean."
Please say 'The Sunmoner'. The pun would cheer him up to no end.
"I go by Sundancer."
"Oh? That's a pretty name." It rolled off the tongue even better than The Sunmoner.
Sundancer ducked her head at the comment and grew quiet. The reaction worried him at first, but he soon worked out the reason for it.
Wooow, did he purchase a conversation [Skill] by accident, or something? Because he delivered that line so smooooth. Now, if only he can figure out how to replicate it on a consistent basis, he'd be golden.
In the meantime, the silence between them dragged on. They've relocated a block west and south of Leviathan, with the map telling them to walk south for three more. Occasionally, other heroes (and villains, which would never not surprise him) tasked with the same appeared in view. Jaune and Sundancer walked past one such, a person he remembered from the battle at the intersection.
The skinny, androgynous figure in black was scoping out the surroundings. They froze when the pair neared, watching the newcomers while motionless. Hiding how unsettled their stillness made him, Jaune nodded to the figure. They did not respond, insectile mask simply moving to follow the progress of his group.
Once he left their vicinity, Jaune shivered from the sensation of wrongness that had crept up his spine. Sundancer herself seemed to breathe easier for having put them behind her.
They then both screamed their heads off as a massive cloud teeming with bees, flies, and beetles burst out of an alleyway just ahead. Jaune recovered first, and jumped forward with his shield raised to cover Sundancer. She, meanwhile, had rushed to his back in order to hide. Peeking over his shoulder, she gave a soft 'Ah!' of recognition.
"T-those must be Skitter's. She's the person we just saw. They won't hurt us…I think."
"Are you sure? The buzzing sounds awfully aggressive to me!"
Her claim gained credence, though, when the bugs refrained from doing much more than that, and Jaune heaved a sigh of relief. The prospect of a million bugs crawling over and into his clothes had filled him with revulsion. As it was, the two of them maintained a wide berth as they skirted around the swarm. A glance at the bug controller revealed three additional clouds like it were floating towards the person, gathering in passable silhouettes of people with the leftovers clinging to her body. Jaunce can already tell that it will be this and not Leviathan that's going to feature in his nightmares for days to come.
"Scary as hell, that lady."
"You can say that again." muttered Sundancer. She fidgeted with her hands before speaking up. "Hey, so, you seem really used to jumping in the line of fire…I'm guessing you're a hero? Are you with New Wave, by any chance?"
"New who?"
"Oh, that's a no, then? I just assumed you might have been since John Arc sounded like, you know, your real name." She resumed her nervous fidgeting.
Jaune nodded. "It is. Although, it's Jaune and not John. J-A-U-N-E."
"Like, french for yellow?"
"Uhhh, sure! Let's go with that." Leaving aside whatever the heck 'french' meant, it was true that his name referred to the color yellow.
"Jo… Ja… Jaune?" Sundancer practiced, shaping her lips around the unfamiliar word. She pumped a fist in victory when Jaune confirmed she said it right. "I can't believe you're using your actual name. And aren't wearing a mask."
Partly in jest, Jaune replied, "You really think I'm that ugly, Sunny Days?"
Sundancer furiously shook her head, flustered. "That's not what I said! You look good- I mean, you look fine! F-fine as in okay, I'm not trying to say fine as in fine, I wasn't staring, I swear!" A short pause ensued, where neither of them said a word. Then, her face fell into her hands, and she groaned. "Ignore me? Please? It's just you don't hide your identity, and most people in this scene… hide their identity." She finished lamely.
Whookay, a lot to unpack there, not least that he should work on his jokes if it sets people off like this. Also, he could be wrong, but her ramblings seemed to imply a positive opinion on his appearance, stroking his ego in a way he didn't know he enjoyed. It merited further investigation. He'll bring it up when she's less skittish. Grin, grin.
Man, this was fun. Why had he never tried to talk to girls back in Beacon?
Ah, right, because Jax Darkphenix in all probability blasted his head with mind control to prevent a single hint of romantic interactions, and this might well just be him acting without that filter. Jaune experienced a sudden, unfathomable urge to kick something.
"It never came up as a necessity, that's all," he said, mood dampened at the bad memory. A glint in the water ahead caught his attention. He kept a close watch on it as he talked. "And I can't say I'm a hero, yet."
"Then, are you a—"
"Hold that thought? I need to check on this thing real quick. Keep going and I'll catch up."
Splitting off, he raced over to the half-submerged object; it's a hilt, red and crystalline. Grabbing the handle, he pulled the weapon out of the road where it had been impaled to expose a long dagger. The razor thin blade was composed of the same material as the hilt and the knife as a whole possessed a delicate yet simple form, lacking details. An experimental swing easily sliced through the metal of a car door. He flicked a finger against the blade and it sang a most beautiful, melodious note.
Lien signs appeared in his eyes.
After a quick scan of his surroundings to search for an owner and seeing none, he fished out Jax's scroll—while making a mental note to separate it and his scroll in different pockets from now on—to open the Marketplace app.
Okay, time to test out how the selling function worked. Though he wasn't confident in what information he should put down for the dagger, he can probably muddle along in listing the thing. What he's most concerned about was the delivery process. [Blank], presumably, took effect upon purchase, but this was a physical object. He might be in big trouble if The Company required him to handle packaging and shipping the item to another universe.
Navigating to the selling page, he encountered a list of his sellable goods, numbering four entries at the moment; Crocea Mors, the t-shirt, the poncho, and the dagger, recognized by the app through some creepy eldritch power as being in his possession, and furthermore owned by him as noted on one side of the entries. On the bright side, that'd save him the effort of typing out a description.
Crocea Mors was out, because he wasn't going to pawn his family heirloom. The two mundane items carried a value of zero, their cheap make deemed worthless to the universes at large. The new weapon, on the other hand? One hundred points. Pretty dang low in his opinion considering the otherworldly gem-like material, but still able to pay off a solid quarter of his debt. Giddy, Jaune tapped on its icon.
Bloodiamond Dagger
Universe: Worm
Hard as diamond, but not actually made of diamond. Crimson as blood, and certainly made of blood. Crafted through the blood-based power expression of 'BloodEdge, the Bloodied Hero' (PRT-Registered Name, full phrase with comma and caps), whose bloody blades have taken more of her own blood than anyone else's blood. Blood.
Sharp, and appeals to a particular demographic. That's about it.
Yeeeah, no way he's keeping that around. Sell, sell, sell.
Unsellable within Instance.
Note: Marketplace Selling is allowed in designated [Home Base], or with relevant [Skills].
The urge to kick something made its reappearance. A second popup offered the answer to his woes.
Recommended [Skill]:
[Mobile Merchant]
Make quick bucks from the comfort of your couch, in the midst of dramatic battles, or sitting on the toilet. Anywhere, anytime, it's a world full of capitalistic possibilities at your fingertips.
Checking the cost, Jaune took one look at the low, low price tag of 5999 Points and promptly shut off the scroll, muttering curses under his breath. Capitalistic, indeed, to paywall critical functions! He was starting to suspect that the Company was out to fleece his sorry self. While there may be a day he'd have to pick up that [Skill] for the sake of accessibility, it would not be today, given he's flat broke and owing.
Frown stuck on his face, he stowed the dagger in his belt and regrouped with Sundancer at the coordinates marked by the armband, on the edge of Sector CC-7 and CC-8 according to the map. Besides them and Skitter, there were a few people scattered about, including the younger sibling of the blond flying duo from previous. He vaguely noted a new reticence to Sundancer but it went unaddressed in lieu of a greater oddity that occupied his focus.
Their spot in CC-7 translated to four blocks south and one over from Leviathan. Why have the heroes in charge placed Sundancer this far out? She's among those with higher destructive potential against the creature. Lookout duty seemed a poor use of her strengths.
Soon, however, her persistent scrutiny drew his attention, and he observed how her head alternated between tilting up to look at his hair, then lowering to his hip where Crocea Mors hung. Finally, he couldn't take the silence anymore, and asked her about it. In a voice laced with suspicion, she responded.
"Weird question, but…you're not with E88 are you? Because we can't be friends if you're a Nazi."
He blinked twice, not understanding. His lack of an answer must have worried her because Sundancer took a half-step away. She shuffled from foot to foot, torn on what to do.
"No," he stated. Going by context, he guessed that was the correct thing to say.
Sundancer exhaled a breath, one hand going to her chest. "Oh, thank goodness. I'm so sorry for asking something rude like that. It's just this town, you know? Not a hero, blond hair and deep blue eyes, a sword, the whole shining knight thing. It screams Nazi cape, and I was worried..."
"But, I'm not wearing a cape?"
A simple statement, yet it caused Sundancer to freeze in her tracks. Incoherent choking noises came from under her mask, nothing he could decipher.
With effort, she rasped, "No, I was talking about a cape cape."
Jaune twisted to look behind himself. Undoubtedly, he wore no cape. If she was referring to his rainwear, then a mere poncho shouldn't make the cut to capehood, he felt. Turning back to his companion, he was greeted with her slackened stance, a full-body tilt to convey her incredulousness.
"Do you know what a cape is?"
Damn. Her tone boded nothing good. It suggested that he was missing some common knowledge. He'd out himself unless he played this right.
"Course I do. Do you know what a cape is?" Deja vu. He tried this on Pyrrha way back when, if he recalled. He…he also remembered it not working too well at the time.
"Are you being serious? You are! Then you're really a civilian—but, no, you can block one of Leviathan's attacks! A new trigger?" She saw something in his expression, a cause for great concern. It convinced him that there's a good case to be made for donning one of those masks, after all. His poker face sucked. Sundancer deadpanned, "You have no idea what a trigger is, do you?"
Jaune fabricated a backstory on the spot. "I live out in the sticks. We don't get the news very often. Or ever."
Just a simple farmboy, nothing to see here.
"Uh-huh." She sounded unconvinced. Jaune avoided her gaze, glancing off to the side and hoping to hell that she knew as little about rural life as he did, because otherwise it'd take about thirty seconds to expose his lies.
As she was gearing up to poke holes in his flimsy excuse, however, a cold front hit them from the direction of the sea. It pierced through their wet clothes to leave them shivering.
The cause of the freak wind was flying over the coast, a green figure shooting out blue beams that froze the waves into big, irregular walls. They, in turn, blocked later waves from ever hitting land. And, more importantly, from washing the combatants away. Nice.
They could do without the hypothermia, though.
Nudging Sundancer, he asked, "Can you give us a bit of warmth?"
She answered by putting her hands together, and after Jaune removed himself, Sundancer brought forth a new ball of fire. The moment the tiny orb emerged, the chill immediately receded. Once it ballooned to a stable size, she pushed it out half a block to let Jaune rejoin her at the center of the street. Warm and toasty, Jaune stood with the sun at his back, using its light to check out the city skyline in full.
"Your power's got a lot of uses, huh? I wonder if it can provide energy to run the entire city. There could be good money in that."
"Um, yeah. Maybe."
"What's with the dispirited tone, Sunny Days? You could become a millionaire." A memory niggled at his mind, and hand met forehead. "…although I suppose that's kinda hard to arrange if they arrest you on sight. Dang."
The sun shook, nearly dissipating. "I-it's not a problem with you, is it? That I'm a villain?"
Had that incident with Armsmaster hounded her thoughts all this while?
He was leery upon first finding out of it, that much Jaune will admit. The revelation that such a mild-mannered and agreeable person might be a career criminal had thrown him off his rhythm. The oft-said line one hears on the evening news put it best. She didn't seem the type.
But then, he wasn't exactly what he appeared to be, either. Not since the start of Beacon, which he entered through false documents. And the same went for a lot of people he called friends.
Team RWBY hadn't intended to tell him and the rest of JNPR much of anything, but they were a loud, indiscreet bunch and their 'secrets' were known to more people than they would expect.
Blake's a former terrorist. Yang took part in back alley brawls and street races. Ruby's a vigilante.
Ren and Nora have seen some things, done some things, and only the fact that they were literal starving, orphaned children during their pre-Beacon days excused them from the label of 'bandit'.
He'd had the chance to listen in on a few conversations between his other classmates, too—which was another strike against his character now that he thought about it—and discovered that Beacon hosted quite a collection of ne'er-do-wells, enough that he wondered if a criminal background might not count as a hidden requirement for entrance. Taken altogether, it left Weiss and Pyrrha as the odd ones out among their year-group.
Ooh! There's also the brutal evisceration of Jax attached to his name. He'd almost forgotten that!
So, yeah, he had no room to judge Sundancer. She was a ray of sunshine in comparison to the den of outlaws he resided in for a year.
"My past isn't squeaky clean, either," he reassured Sundancer, shrugging his shoulders. "And I've seen for myself the way you act. You're pretty cool, and loads better than the shouty blue guy." They both snickered. "Still, I can't deny I'm curious on what made you choose to help out the heroes."
His ally stared into the sun she summoned, arms crossed and contemplative. Her answer, when it came, contained an undercurrent of shame.
"Honestly…I didn't want to. My group, we're working for this one villain, Coil, in exchange for him helping our friend and he ordered us to take part. I tried to get everyone to run but they didn't listen. I had to go because they went. And then- and then I learned what that thing can do. Leviathan was going to bring down the city, and there were hundreds of thousands of people in its path, all trapped in the shelters. I didn't want to be here, but how could I leave? "
Yet, so too were there the very heights of heroism. Jaune concluded that she would have done well as a Huntress.
Adamant down, CD-6.
The synthetic voice intruded upon their conversation. Its cold message heralded the awakening of the beast. Along the road, heroes and villains whirled to look northward, straining to spot a sign of the battle.
Night deceased, CD-6.
The armband announcement remained their best indicator.
Fog deceased, CD-6.
The strategy spearheaded by Armsmaster worked as intended. Their casualties ticked upward by single counts, their distance forcing Leviathan to chase down targets.
Uber deceased, CD-6.
It didn't sound like a win. Leviathan seemed no less unstoppable, inevitable.
By his side, Sundancer held herself, trembling. She flinched each time the armband chirped the name of a fallen. It's impossible to see an expression past the full facemask, but her shortened breath belied her panic.
To distract her, Jaune started talking.
"What do you do, outside of this?"
"Huh?" Was her numb reply.
"Life's not all great big balls of fire. What does Sundancer do when she has free time?"
She alternated her gaze between him and the direction of the battle, as if unsure if she had heard him correctly. In the end, his continued show of interest drew out a response.
"I p-play videogames. I'm actually a pro back home."
"That's awesome! I'm just a casual player, myself."
Emboldened, Sundancer said without prompting, "I also know ballet. It's been a while since I've done it, though."
"Nice. I saw a performance once. It's a lot different from ballroom dancing." His oddly specific comment garnered her attention.
"Ballroom?"
"My sisters made me learn. Totally bragging, I've gotten quite good at it, along with a couple modern styles. My friends and I killed it at our school dance."
Sundancer softly giggled, the sound muffled in part by the fabric of her costume. It couldn't quite drown out the next announcement, but she stayed calm through the report.
Faultline deceased, CD-6.
The orb of fire increased in size.
"We had a blast. It was a great night," Jaune finished. The armband kept up a steady chant in the background.
Victor deceased, CD-6.
"You know..." It was Sundancer who initiated the dialogue this time.
"Yes?" Jaune asked.
Sundancer fell quiet, seemingly losing her nerves. She turned her head to the side, facing with ease the intense light radiating from the miniature star she created. What she wanted, he had not a clue, but he stood by in his own silence, content to wait.
And, peering into her sun, she found a resolve.
"You know," Sundancer repeated, turning to look up at him, "a waltz can't be much harder than ballet. If we get out of this mess, how about we go dancing?"
"Sure thing. That sounds like a good time." Jaune mustered a smile for her, cheery and honest; and though he cannot see under her mask, he had a hunch Sundancer was doing the same in turn.
Whatever else they might say was left unspoken.
A giant ocean wave slammed against the ice wall conjured along the coast, an almighty crash sending up a roar to shake the city.
And far, far down the street, Leviathan stalked into view.
Oh, boy. Here we go again.
Author's notes: Jaune thinks he's so slick, coming up with his 'fool-proof' plan. He didn't expect the Brockton Bay welcoming committee.
One thing I like about Worm, I didn't even have to adjust the heroes' personalities for them to act like that.
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Jaune, throughout - Imma grab all the flags with this Sundancer girl!
Sundancer, helping- Ooh, ooh, here's one! Ehem… Once this war is finally over and we go home…
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Since there are elements of the story that our narrator cannot know about, and therefore cannot be explained in the text, I'll field questions, limited to those with answers that won't spoil future developments.