Also, any thoughts on the function suggestion I made? I need a backstory to the discovery beyond what little I have so far.
Function's good, adding it to the list. Don't sweat the backstory too much- sometimes people just have good ideas and work on them.
Then some people are me and make shit like this.
Okay, crazy idea.
We make a pistol that fires single shot functions. Almost like old-school D&D spell books, we would pre-craft rounds that would actualize when the round connects. For example, Crash() rounds would be amazing at stopping a charging Grimm. It would be even better if we can make them compatible with a regular gun; though I'd place a bet that Ruby would practically become our shadow at that point.
With the Process, all is possible. However, that's a long, long,
long way down the line, and probably not worth your time in the long run.
So, this actually started out life as a Hotline Miami interlude, of all things, but I couldn't make it work very well. Then I realised everything up to the point I was having problems with could apply to a semi-greenhorn Preacher Jaune and worked with that instead.
Writing's funny like that.
Things weren't going well. At all. You don't even know why Ruby made you come along on this. You're not, smart, or strong, or fast, you don't know how to find people, you can't… do anything. Granted, you don't think she expected to end up fighting the White Fang on the docks when she just set out to look for Blake, but you know what?
You are!
And that's not a situation you wanted to be in!
Ever!
The sound of gunfire and explosions only serve to make you shrink further behind the crate you're using as cover, trusting it more than your armour, your shield, or Aura. You don't know where Ruby or Penny is, but before you can gather the courage to run and find them, Blake flies gracelessly over your head, flopping on the ground for a moment before lifting herself into a crouch and quickly scrambling over to you, sharing your cover for a moment.
"What are you doing back here?!"
"Having afternoon tea with Lady Pigglebottoms, can I interest you in a scone?"
Having your eyebrows singed off by a grenade tends to leave one numb to anger. And, numb in general.
You
may be suffering from mild nerve damage.
She stares at you, gritting her teeth as she decides between chewing you out or just going back out there.
"Look, Ruby's pinned down- one of them broke her Aura and she took a bullet to the ankle. I'm not doing great, and her friend's too busy keeping the Bullheads off us to deal with Torchwick and his goons. We need your help."
It all just washes over you, and you begin to realise how useless you really are right now.
"I-I can't help. I don't have a gun, my Aura won't hold up under that much gunfire, even if I could get close I'm not a good enough fighter to stop any of them-"
Lie.
You know you can do a lot more than stop them.
You just don't want to. Because you're a coward.
"Jaune, now is not the time for this-"
"Now is exactly the time for this!" You snap at her. "I wasn't expecting to fight terrorists tonight! What do you want me to do, commit suicide by White Fang to
buy you a few seconds?!"
She winces slightly, and you almost feel bad for snapping at her like that. Except, you know, you have a fucking point.
But you know you could do more.
You try to shake the thought from your head. It's not worth it.
Because they'll hate you afterwards.
No! It's just- you don't… it's not worth it-
They're not worth it, you mean.
"... Fine. Just stay here. If you see an opening, run for Ruby." She says, relenting in the face of your reluctance.
She's going to die without your help. They all are. Coward.
As you see her steel herself to go out there, it occurs to you that Blake might not be coming back. This might be the last time you get to talk to her, and you just spent it sending her to her own death.
"Wait!"
She whips to look at you, the adrenaline keying her up so hard you're almost surprised she didn't shoot you herself.
"I-I can help. I just… want you to promise me something first."
"I don't have time for this, Jaune-"
"Just… don't think less of me when I'm done."
Blake blinks, confusion plain on her face, but she nods anyway, and you force yourself to take a deep breath.
Ok.
Ok.
You can do this.
Somewhere inside your soul, a child beyond God is crying out.
"... Cover your ears."
Fire fills your throat as you rush out from behind the crate and focus on the White Fang members in front of you.
"BE STILL."
Like an explosion from your mouth, the divine will of a child born to a capital A Angel and a capital D Devil throws itself into your Words, and everyone in earshot finds their bodies paralysed where they stand. Bullets still spray your Aura for a second as fingers lock onto triggers, empty clicks soon following.
Thank God.
You look back at Blake, and sharp guilt stabs you in the chest as you see her locked into the same rictus, her eyes fixed on yours in fear, even with her ears covered.
"No, no, no, I told you to cover your ears-" You start to say, before realising for the first time tonight the, er, the secret she's been trying to hide.
The pair of fuzzy cat ears poking out from her hair stand proudly uncovered by either bow or hand.
Shit. Shit shit shit. You've always wondered if Faunus could hear out of their second set of ears but shit.
"Blake Belladonna, be free of my command. Be exempt of all others I give until sunrise."
She drops to the ground, coughing her little heart out.
"Couldn't-
kfh- breathe, felt like, my lu-
kaff- lungs were frozen-" her coughing fit continues for a second before she collapses fully, laying on the ground wheezing for air. You run to check on her, laying a hand against her neck and thankfully finding a strong heartbeat under your fingers.
Standing again, you issue another command as quickly as you can.
"BREATHE, YOU IDIOTS!"
Because apparently you need a fucking degree in law to use the Word of God without accidentally killing people-
You watch as the few White Fang members in your field of view start wheezing, sucking in air as if they'd just surfaced from underwater. Blake finally recovers, stumbling to her feet, using the container to prop herself up.
"... What... did you do?" She asks, and you can't help but freeze like they did, before you recognise curiosity more than disgust in her voice and manage to relax somewhat. "It was like..."
"God Himself came down from Heaven and commanded your lungs to stop what they were doing?" You finish for her.
"... Yeah. Exactly like that. Is-is that your Semblance? Persuading people?"
You give a humourless snort at the sheer
understatement of that theory, walking towards the White Fang goons once you're sure she can follow you.
"Blake, you know as well as I do that that wasn't persuasion. It's... the complete cessation of free will."
You don't need to look at her to know she's concerned about the implications of that, but you still can't bring yourself to look anyway.
The first White Fang member you come near is shorter than you, and a lady if the voice heaving air is any indication. Reaching up, you pull her mask off and confirm it, looking into those big, rectangle-pupilled eyes of hers.
"... N-no way. Semblances can't- they can't just
remove free will like that, it's not possible." Blake continues, going to disbelief before anything else, because honestly, how
else can you react to finding out your best friend is a free will killing abomination with a child in his soul that puts him further up the metaphysical food chain than
the entirety of humanity?
She's not wrong, mind. Semblances can't remove free will.
Semblances.
"See, I'd be inclined to agree with you, but at the same time, I don't think Semblances usually awaken by getting slammed in the chest by a comet with the face of a toddler and immediately making two boys and a girl beat each other into three piles of pulp, but hey, feel free to share
your comet story and prove me the rule rather than the exception."
"Wait, you got your Semblance because of
what?"
"What's your name?" You ask the girl in front of you, ignoring Blake for the moment.
"S-Sandra." She tells you, the name ripping itself from her throat without any thought on her part. The fear on her face doesn't make you feel any better.
"Sandra, do a handstand."
Without any hesitation or sign of an inability to do so, Sandra swaps her hands for her feet, performing a perfect handstand.
"... Jaune, that's just creepy." Blake mutters behind you.
"It's a
test. I wasn't able to ask questions before. This,
thing, this
not-Semblance, it's... growing. It's
been growing for seven years now." You turn to look at Blake, something you said earlier finally occurring to you.
"Blake, raise your left hand."
She does not, instead giving you the look of disgust you so feared earlier, but this time it only brings you joy. A stupid grin crosses your face as you realise what's happened.
"Jaune, if you try to order me like that again, I'm
going to shoot you." She snarls at you, hand tightening around her sword.
"Blake, what's your left hand doing right now?"
She blinks, looking down at her hand as if it's somehow betrayed her.
"... But... I thought I- I definitely felt the
urge to lift it..." The realisation hits her, and shock crosses her face. "... You made me immune until sunrise."
"I made you exempt."
A wild laugh pulls itself from your throat as you rush forward and hug her, quite easily picking her up and hugging air as her shadow clone phases out of existence, leaving her to the side and crossing her arms, giving you a much softer look than she was ten seconds ago.
"... Sorry. Got, carried away." You sheepishly tell her. "But, this is amazing! My entire life, I've worried about the fact that any time I tell somebody to do something they wouldn't be able to refuse, or, or the fact that I might start
liking doing that, but now, now I can actually-"
"DIE, YOU ABOMINATION!" You hear Sandra scream as a pair of Aura-enhanced arms wrap around your neck, squeezing your throat shut. It's almost a proper headlock, but the angle isn't quite right, so instead of everything going black in a few seconds, you can
feel your brain screaming for oxygen as two major lines are crushed
almost flat, the pressure an unbearable pain in your neck and skull both-
And as quickly as it started, it's over. The arms loosen, and you fall forwards, the relief of pressure a quite literal lifesaver. Looking backwards, through the tears in your eyes, you see Sandra and Blake fighting, a single bullet on the ground between you and them.
The child beyond God screams out in rage. How dare she touch its host.
Images of fire holy and unholy fill your vision, and with them there, you don't even realise you've stood up. You don't really realise you're speaking.
"STOP."
Sandra freezes in place and suffers deeply for it as your friend's sheath-cum-cleaver runs across her thigh, breaking her Aura and drawing a scream of pain as it draws blood. Blake turns to look at you, and something in your eyes turns her ears flat because she sheaths her sword and rushes towards you, placing her hands on your shoulders to hold you in place.
You barely even notice her trying.
"Jaune,
Jaune, look at me. Look at me." She says, balls of her feet digging into the ground as you walk forward, looking straight at the other Faunus quivering in fear as she tries to stem the flow of blood. "God, when did you
get this strong-"
You stop, maybe ten feet away from the goat Faunus, and look at her paling face. Blake steps in front of her, hand on her sword.
"...Move." You ask her, not even putting the Word behind it.
"No. I know you don't really want to kill her, no matter how angry you might be right now. Because I know you're
better than that."
… Are you?
Are you
really?
Are you better than a man who would kill a crying girl trying her best to crawl away from you on a bad leg, bleeding out as she goes, just because she watched you do something that should be so abhorrent to anybody who can understand what it is you're doing?
... The fires die down. The child calms, no longer stirring up such wrath, leaving you with calmer eyes.
"... Sometimes, I really,
really wish I wasn't." You tell Blake honestly. "Now move, she's bleeding pretty badly."
Indeed, your assailant is looking rather pale- you imagine adrenaline is the only thing keeping her so wide-eyed. Blake blinks but does as you ask, moving to the side, still watching you with a hand on her sword. You walk up to Sandra, and she tries to move again, the effort making her hiss in pain.
"Hey, where you goin'?" You ask her. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Hand to God."
"F-
fuck you, you will-stealing abomination-"
You squat next to her, looking over the wound. Shallow, but long. Better than it looks. You undo your armour, pull off your hoodie, and start taking strips from the shirt underneath, the fabric tearing easily in your hands until you have a decent length of cloth, and your abs are feeling the cool November air.
"That I might be. I might be a will-stealing abomination- shift your leg up, please- one bad day away from turning you and everybody else I know into a mindless thrall, hanging on my every word… but ya know what?" You ask her honestly, as you wrap your makeshift bandages around her thigh, trying your best to apply pressure to the cut.
"... What?" Sandra obliges you, the apparent change in your attitude muddying her opinion of you enough that she doesn't keep spitting venom at you.
"I could do
all that, and I'd still be a better person than my bitch of a grandma."