[X] "I was banned from all Valish public transport for 6 months when I was 12."
Hold It In (RWBY/Transistor)
- Thread starter Prok
- Start date
- Crossover
- Location
- Hanover PA
I love not having combat rolls because I hate them. A lot of the time people make crits completely stupid since a crit fail or success becomes a 1 in a million occurance when it is actually a 1 in 100 occurance and can cause really stupid and random combat
Dragonmaster150
Firstborn of Dragonkind
- Location
- Dragendolan: Land of the Dragon Kings
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Quick, everyone send hugs and pictures of cute animals, we need to keep drowning Prok in support!
In all seriousness though, thanks for putting in all the hard work. I've tried to come up with ideas to run quests with before but I could never really take that step, same with writing. I really respect people who can put themselves at our mercy like that and still come out with such a good product. So mad respect.
Last edited:
FruitSyrup
Sweeter than honey~
- Location
- United Kingom
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X] "I was banned from all Valish public transport for 6 months when I was 12."
This sounds fucking hysterical
This sounds fucking hysterical
- Location
- Southern USA
[X] "I solved three of the 10 Gordium Problems, and I never received a penny for it."
Glad to see you back, Prok
Glad to see you back, Prok
assana73
Meatbun!
- Location
- Personal Dimension
[X] "I was banned from all Valish public transport for 6 months when I was 12."
Welcome back Prok! Glad you aren't worrying too much over the numbers side of things. Most of the time a good quest is carried by it's characters and world, and this is an amazing one!
Welcome back Prok! Glad you aren't worrying too much over the numbers side of things. Most of the time a good quest is carried by it's characters and world, and this is an amazing one!
- Location
- Goose Land
Do I just ramble about my new/expanded upon Process based business idea, or do I try to format it as an omake/commercial?
PsyFarrow
Verified Necrodancer
- Location
- Space
I do enjoy a good ramble, but if you'd prefer to write an in-universe perspective nobody's going to stop you.
Omake: Sly_Acquisition() (CANON-PENDING)
- Location
- Earth
This particular omake has been living rent free in my head for literal years, though it's changed somewhat as the story has. After some false starts over that time period, I finally got it out over a week or so.
Sly_Acquisition()
Jaune sighed. I knew stakeouts were supposed to be boring. I should've guessed they'd be really awkward too. Par for the course for me.
{Well, those cop dramas usually have them working with their partners, right? Blake is pretty far from a buddy cop.}
This isn't a stakeout.
Same difference, Jaune noted.
It wasn't technically a stakeout. But they were posted on a rooftop right outside a White Fang storehouse, during a cold cloudless night in the industrial district, waiting for certain factors to align. Or for something to go wrong. So, it sort of was.
And they'd been waiting in stiflingly awkward silence for a while now.
Or at least Blake had been. And thus Jaune had been by proxy. He could sense the inner tension from yards away. At least he'd had plenty of data to review in the meantime, even if it wasn't really helping him or the operation.
She'd just been…staring. Menacingly. Without blinking.
Again, it was super awkward.
{Y'know, small talk isn't supposed to be hard. That's sort of the point of it. Just talking about universal things of little consequence. The weather. Annoying family and friends. The operating tendencies of your old terrorist cell. Little things like that.}
Not funny, Jaune deadpanned, even though it had almost gotten a snort out of him. Also, I'm pretty sure she's already shared what she's going to share about that. For now. She's just here to…see things through, I guess.
{'For now' is right. This won't be the end of the White Fang trying to bring unwanted trouble to Vale, even if it will take them a long time to recover.}
I'm more hoping for 'never' recovering from this, thanks.
It was an ambitious plan they were enacting, to say the least. 'They' mostly being Hunters from Beacon who could be trusted with vital secrets. Yeah, being part of a conspiracy was still freaking weird, even if it was essentially a benevolent one.
On the subject of view shattering secrets, the Process's partial dominion over Vale was a new and awe-inspiring thing. Not a tool to be wielded lightly. But, in Jaune's humble opinion, there weren't many more acceptable targets than violent terrorists. Specifically violent terrorist who had almost murdered a friend of his. Especially violent terrorists who were doing an awfully good job of amassing resources, power, and influence in his home city, of late. So he'd been fine with the Process monitoring them after the...altercation, from before he got to Beacon.
Which had revealed some worrying information. He'd brought what he'd learned from the Process's monitoring of the Fang's burgeoning operative success to Ozpin. Who had done the exact opposite of quelling his fears. Apparently the smoothness of their ascension in Vale was a telling sign of a chess-master orchestrating more than just the White Fang's movements from the shadows. Which wasn't really a surprise. What was, though perhaps it shouldn't have been in retrospect, was that Salem was a regular instigator of such plots. And she had no qualms utilizing a wide variety of human pawns despite her apparent loathing for people as a whole.
With that perspective granted, Jaune had eventually decided having his friendly burgeoning tech god help them cripple the White Fang was necessary for the safety of his home. Even with the wide reaching implications and consequences of doing so. Sometimes you had to fight fire with fire. Or in this case godlike abilities with godlike abilities.
It wasn't a decision made without pause. But Jaune was none too eager to see Vale added to the list of civilizations, both known and forgotten, that the witch queen had brought to ruin. If the White Fang was her current primary vehicle to that end—then he would see it de-fanged.
So here he was. Waiting in concert with a number of friends and associates posted at different locations, for a signal to begin their joint heist. Like some sort of hackneyed blockbuster holo.
And of course, he'd ended up partnered with the person most likely to win 'most unsettling stare' award in his entire year. And that was despite some stiff competition.
He understood why he ended up paired with Blake. In large part because he was the classmate that knew the most about her 'backstory', as it were. And this was the type of situation where unfortunate aspects of that past story might become relevant to what happened. So for her, it was better he be the one watching her back.
He just wished that wasn't so literal. Because here they were, her back to him, while her eyes bored invisible holes into their target.
{If you don't try, I'm going to do it for you.}
What—
{You have until the end of this sentence before I decide to break out the-}
Jaune audibly cleared his throat. "So, um, Blake," he started, but didn't see her respond in any way. Soldiering on, he continued, "Does this sort of thing ever get less tiresome?"
If it weren't for the slight twitch to the cant of her ears, he wouldn't have thought she'd heard anything from him.
Smalltalk isn't supposed to be hard, Jaune thought sarcastically. Does that include chatting up gargoyle statues?
{You know, referring to a faunus ex-criminal as a 'gargoyle' could be construed as insensitive and racist commentary.}
First, just, no. Second, not the point. Third—
T-minus 60 seconds, the Process informed Jaune via earpiece, as well as everyone else.
—you've been saved by the bell.
With that warning, individuals and teams were alerted that their missions would soon begin. Not all would necessarily strike at the exact same moment, depending on the particulars of the situations. But the ballpark they'd worked out was that everyone should be moving on their target within two minutes of each other. The plan was for everyone to be long gone before any sort of warning could make its way out.
Jaune and Blake themselves would be moving at the zero mark—their target had made itself a simple and straightforward endeavor this evening.
There was a reason they had chosen a Saturday night for this raid. The Valeish White Fang's growth was largely fueled by local recruitment, not by foreign cells. So young, disenfranchised risk takers were taking up the flag. And inevitably, certain important responsibilities as well. The same general demographic that would stubbornly insist on Saturday nights off to party, relieve stress, spend time with friends, and so on.
Thus had a large and valuable warehouse full of stolen dust and other goods been left to two greener Fang members with not much aura to speak of. And one of them fallen asleep on a couch.
Sighing quietly to himself, Jaune glanced at Blake once again and chanced a, "Ready?"
Receiving a quiet nod of acknowledgement, which he figured was the best he was going to get anyway, Jaune determined to use the remaining time to take stock.
No one who knew him casually would recognize him. For one, he didn't have the Transistor floating behind him like a giant blazing billboard, having already secured itself inside its Cache. For another, he—and many of the others—were dressed up like their targets, in the standard White Fang 'uniform'. Which had the dual benefit of both disguising everything but the mouth and neck, and muddying the waters for any Fang who got a look at their assailants.
On a similar note, he was Teal and Blake was Pearl for the purposes of infosec, though Jaune personally doubted those names would be particularly relevant or necessary. Blake, though, had not been alone in adamant insistence about using code names.
Speaking of, he couldn't decide if Blake looked more comfortable or uncomfortable attired in the dress of her old occupation, given her inscrutable mien.
{Yeah, forget not being a buddy cop, decked out in that she's basically the opposite. A frigid felon? A surly crook? Maybe, a nutty fraud?}
Trying to focus here, Jaune interrupted.
Held at his back in place of the Transistor, Jaune instead had readied a greatsword. Made of process matter but appearing normal enough, he'd worked in an additional function of delivering electric shocks, and affectionately dubbed it Spike.
Lastly, he had a heads up display giving him live status on how everyone else was doing. So far nothing of note, though it looked like Lumen and Creme decided having an argument up to the last second before they had to start was a great idea.
{I mean, better than sitting in uncomfortable silence like we did.}
Aaand it's go time, Jaune thought, walking to the edge of the roof and quietly jumping down alongside Blake.
The cameras, like most of the rest of the building, had already been surreptitiously subsumed by the Process, so there were no worries there. Rather, it was the next few moments that would determine how cleanly they'd pull this off.
Blake circled around to the adjacent side of the building, while Jaune readied himself before a bare expanse of wall. On the other side, on his display, he could see the outline of a man lounging on a chair, half looking at camera feeds, half looking at the scroll in his hands.
Like ice melting before a flame, the seemingly mundane cement before him turned white and poured away until only the thinnest of borders separated the inside from the out.
"In position," Jaune sub-vocalized. One never could count on how good an aura user's hearing was, especially a faunus who was just a pencil thin layer of man made rock distant.
Several beats later, Blake whispered back, "In position. On one. Four, three, two, o—"
And with that, the wall ahead vanished like it had never been, leaving a person sized opening that was closing itself even as Jaune finished running through. One, two, three steps and he was upon the man, his target's body only just tensing in surprise as he reached him. A single mighty swing of Spike shattered his aura, the follow through leaving the sword resting almost gently against his side, just as electricity began to dance across its edge.
From there, it was all over but the details. Muscles stopped twitching into action and started twitching in convulsions, Spike living up to its name, sending spikes of lightning up and down the masked faunus's spine til he was unconscious.
Some Process made handcuffs, blindfold, and earmuffs applied to his downed victim, and a check in with Blake who'd had similar success, and the two guards were non-entities to the rest of the plan.
{I know there's nothing dignified about being tased, but you'd hope he'd have more control than to piss himself.}
I was trying not to think about that, thanks.
Looking around at the piles of contraband (totally not just to distract himself) he couldn't help but be disappointed. He'd known what to expect, but a part of him still hoped it would look like a villainous treasure trove of some sort. But no, it just looked like…storage. He'd seen several supply closets at Beacon that appeared more exciting.
But the next part promised to be interesting.
Before Jaune's very eyes, the crates, containers, boxes, cases, and more, containing their ill gotten goods, began to sink into the floor like it was made of quicksand.
Across Vale, from the industrial to residential to agricultural, similar scenes began to play out. Anywhere a White Fang holding had been identified by the Process, and where biological eyes were not carefully watching, stolen goods and resources disappeared into the bowels of Remnant itself.
The lightly defended holdings such as this one had those eyes forcefully blinded by Jaune and his allies. And with many other locations lacking active personnel or relying on digital security or anonymity being easily controlled by the Process, only a handful of sites remained untouched.
And for those remaining? Well, the police would be coming into a glut of useful tips and info over the next couple of weeks on Fang assets. Not to mention postings of some instructive bounties for Hunters to pursue on key Fang leaders.
Acquisitions underway! the Process merrily chirped.
Yes, and soon it will all be mine, Jaune cackled inside his mind.
{Except not really.}
…except not really. A small portion of the resources would go directly towards Cloudbank Solutions, but most of it would be laundered by Ozpin and the Process. Not only would he be paying his Beacon tuition several times over in under the table 'donations' of dust, ammunition, and so on. But small business owners who'd been devastated by the Fang would also see a sudden turn in fortunes by way of loans, charity, new opportunities, and the like.
He did feel a bit bad about indirectly profiting due to others misfortunes. But in the moment, at least, he couldn't help but just be enthralled by what was happening before him. And he wasn't alone in staring in fascination at the magically (scientifically?) disappearing loot.
{Hey, her deadpan stare now has some curiosity to it. Progress, if I've ever seen it.}
I'd be genuinely concerned if she found this boring, Jaune deadpanned himself.
It wasn't long before the show was over. The items had a long way to travel, and they wouldn't get there at a snail's pace. And now that the job was done, he and Blake also had a bit of a ride ahead of them.
The Transistor made its reappearance from the Cache back to normal space known with a flash of blue light.
{Flyboard mode, activated.} Blue unnecessarily announced as the not-sword came to float a few inches above and parallel to the floor.
Still not a big fan of that name. I mean, it works, but it sounds like some kind of weird extreme sport or something.
{Too bad. Everyone agreed Lumen's name for it was the best one, and it's caught on.}
Still think 'surfing' would have worked fine. It's not like we know anyone who actually surfs. And, it's like web surfing, what with you being a giant computer.
"We good to head out?" Blake interrupted the mental argument he was definitely winning.
"Ah, yep," he replied, totally not startled by her totally not-catlike propensity for sneaking up on people.
Stepping on the board, Blake stepping behind him a moment later, he felt the telekinetic anchors secure him in place.
For the hundredth time, I sure am glad we got a scan of Goodwitch's semblance. I don't want to imagine how uncomfortable 'flyboarding' might have been without it. As is, the telekinetic grip system feels practically natural.
Not to mention the sophistication of the adaptive aerodynamic foil and the intuitive piloting adjustments.
{Yeah, her Semblance is definitely overpowered. Not that we have room to talk, or complain.}
While the three discussed Goodwitch's magnificently mighty metaphysical muscles, a hole appeared below them, with the Transistor and its passengers falling into a controlled descent until they hit roughly 30 meters per second. Not long after, they hit the bottom of the hole, leaving only a perfectly straight tunnel in front of them, with no end in sight.
Beats waiting for the train, but the abandoned tunnel vibe doesn't provide the best scenery.
{Don't think of it as a train tunnel, think of it like a racetrack. We had no problems on the way here, we can pick it up a notch on the way back.}
Faster, huh? Jaune couldn't help but be excited. He'd never considered himself a speed junkie before, but before he'd worked out this Function he'd never been able to fly before either.
Turning around slightly, Jaune asked, "We'll be going faster this time around. If that's alright with you?"
"So long as you slow down if I ask." Blake responded, giving nothing but a frown…and placing a hand on his shoulder for extra grip.
Well okay then. Half again as fast peak speed this time? That should be safe enough.
{Why not double? It'll be fine. Just, don't let go.}
And with a crack, they were gone.
Sly_Acquisition()
Jaune sighed. I knew stakeouts were supposed to be boring. I should've guessed they'd be really awkward too. Par for the course for me.
{Well, those cop dramas usually have them working with their partners, right? Blake is pretty far from a buddy cop.}
This isn't a stakeout.
Same difference, Jaune noted.
It wasn't technically a stakeout. But they were posted on a rooftop right outside a White Fang storehouse, during a cold cloudless night in the industrial district, waiting for certain factors to align. Or for something to go wrong. So, it sort of was.
And they'd been waiting in stiflingly awkward silence for a while now.
Or at least Blake had been. And thus Jaune had been by proxy. He could sense the inner tension from yards away. At least he'd had plenty of data to review in the meantime, even if it wasn't really helping him or the operation.
She'd just been…staring. Menacingly. Without blinking.
Again, it was super awkward.
{Y'know, small talk isn't supposed to be hard. That's sort of the point of it. Just talking about universal things of little consequence. The weather. Annoying family and friends. The operating tendencies of your old terrorist cell. Little things like that.}
Not funny, Jaune deadpanned, even though it had almost gotten a snort out of him. Also, I'm pretty sure she's already shared what she's going to share about that. For now. She's just here to…see things through, I guess.
{'For now' is right. This won't be the end of the White Fang trying to bring unwanted trouble to Vale, even if it will take them a long time to recover.}
I'm more hoping for 'never' recovering from this, thanks.
It was an ambitious plan they were enacting, to say the least. 'They' mostly being Hunters from Beacon who could be trusted with vital secrets. Yeah, being part of a conspiracy was still freaking weird, even if it was essentially a benevolent one.
On the subject of view shattering secrets, the Process's partial dominion over Vale was a new and awe-inspiring thing. Not a tool to be wielded lightly. But, in Jaune's humble opinion, there weren't many more acceptable targets than violent terrorists. Specifically violent terrorist who had almost murdered a friend of his. Especially violent terrorists who were doing an awfully good job of amassing resources, power, and influence in his home city, of late. So he'd been fine with the Process monitoring them after the...altercation, from before he got to Beacon.
Which had revealed some worrying information. He'd brought what he'd learned from the Process's monitoring of the Fang's burgeoning operative success to Ozpin. Who had done the exact opposite of quelling his fears. Apparently the smoothness of their ascension in Vale was a telling sign of a chess-master orchestrating more than just the White Fang's movements from the shadows. Which wasn't really a surprise. What was, though perhaps it shouldn't have been in retrospect, was that Salem was a regular instigator of such plots. And she had no qualms utilizing a wide variety of human pawns despite her apparent loathing for people as a whole.
With that perspective granted, Jaune had eventually decided having his friendly burgeoning tech god help them cripple the White Fang was necessary for the safety of his home. Even with the wide reaching implications and consequences of doing so. Sometimes you had to fight fire with fire. Or in this case godlike abilities with godlike abilities.
It wasn't a decision made without pause. But Jaune was none too eager to see Vale added to the list of civilizations, both known and forgotten, that the witch queen had brought to ruin. If the White Fang was her current primary vehicle to that end—then he would see it de-fanged.
So here he was. Waiting in concert with a number of friends and associates posted at different locations, for a signal to begin their joint heist. Like some sort of hackneyed blockbuster holo.
And of course, he'd ended up partnered with the person most likely to win 'most unsettling stare' award in his entire year. And that was despite some stiff competition.
He understood why he ended up paired with Blake. In large part because he was the classmate that knew the most about her 'backstory', as it were. And this was the type of situation where unfortunate aspects of that past story might become relevant to what happened. So for her, it was better he be the one watching her back.
He just wished that wasn't so literal. Because here they were, her back to him, while her eyes bored invisible holes into their target.
{If you don't try, I'm going to do it for you.}
What—
{You have until the end of this sentence before I decide to break out the-}
Jaune audibly cleared his throat. "So, um, Blake," he started, but didn't see her respond in any way. Soldiering on, he continued, "Does this sort of thing ever get less tiresome?"
If it weren't for the slight twitch to the cant of her ears, he wouldn't have thought she'd heard anything from him.
Smalltalk isn't supposed to be hard, Jaune thought sarcastically. Does that include chatting up gargoyle statues?
{You know, referring to a faunus ex-criminal as a 'gargoyle' could be construed as insensitive and racist commentary.}
First, just, no. Second, not the point. Third—
T-minus 60 seconds, the Process informed Jaune via earpiece, as well as everyone else.
—you've been saved by the bell.
With that warning, individuals and teams were alerted that their missions would soon begin. Not all would necessarily strike at the exact same moment, depending on the particulars of the situations. But the ballpark they'd worked out was that everyone should be moving on their target within two minutes of each other. The plan was for everyone to be long gone before any sort of warning could make its way out.
Jaune and Blake themselves would be moving at the zero mark—their target had made itself a simple and straightforward endeavor this evening.
There was a reason they had chosen a Saturday night for this raid. The Valeish White Fang's growth was largely fueled by local recruitment, not by foreign cells. So young, disenfranchised risk takers were taking up the flag. And inevitably, certain important responsibilities as well. The same general demographic that would stubbornly insist on Saturday nights off to party, relieve stress, spend time with friends, and so on.
Thus had a large and valuable warehouse full of stolen dust and other goods been left to two greener Fang members with not much aura to speak of. And one of them fallen asleep on a couch.
Sighing quietly to himself, Jaune glanced at Blake once again and chanced a, "Ready?"
Receiving a quiet nod of acknowledgement, which he figured was the best he was going to get anyway, Jaune determined to use the remaining time to take stock.
No one who knew him casually would recognize him. For one, he didn't have the Transistor floating behind him like a giant blazing billboard, having already secured itself inside its Cache. For another, he—and many of the others—were dressed up like their targets, in the standard White Fang 'uniform'. Which had the dual benefit of both disguising everything but the mouth and neck, and muddying the waters for any Fang who got a look at their assailants.
On a similar note, he was Teal and Blake was Pearl for the purposes of infosec, though Jaune personally doubted those names would be particularly relevant or necessary. Blake, though, had not been alone in adamant insistence about using code names.
Speaking of, he couldn't decide if Blake looked more comfortable or uncomfortable attired in the dress of her old occupation, given her inscrutable mien.
{Yeah, forget not being a buddy cop, decked out in that she's basically the opposite. A frigid felon? A surly crook? Maybe, a nutty fraud?}
Trying to focus here, Jaune interrupted.
Held at his back in place of the Transistor, Jaune instead had readied a greatsword. Made of process matter but appearing normal enough, he'd worked in an additional function of delivering electric shocks, and affectionately dubbed it Spike.
Lastly, he had a heads up display giving him live status on how everyone else was doing. So far nothing of note, though it looked like Lumen and Creme decided having an argument up to the last second before they had to start was a great idea.
{I mean, better than sitting in uncomfortable silence like we did.}
Aaand it's go time, Jaune thought, walking to the edge of the roof and quietly jumping down alongside Blake.
The cameras, like most of the rest of the building, had already been surreptitiously subsumed by the Process, so there were no worries there. Rather, it was the next few moments that would determine how cleanly they'd pull this off.
Blake circled around to the adjacent side of the building, while Jaune readied himself before a bare expanse of wall. On the other side, on his display, he could see the outline of a man lounging on a chair, half looking at camera feeds, half looking at the scroll in his hands.
Like ice melting before a flame, the seemingly mundane cement before him turned white and poured away until only the thinnest of borders separated the inside from the out.
"In position," Jaune sub-vocalized. One never could count on how good an aura user's hearing was, especially a faunus who was just a pencil thin layer of man made rock distant.
Several beats later, Blake whispered back, "In position. On one. Four, three, two, o—"
And with that, the wall ahead vanished like it had never been, leaving a person sized opening that was closing itself even as Jaune finished running through. One, two, three steps and he was upon the man, his target's body only just tensing in surprise as he reached him. A single mighty swing of Spike shattered his aura, the follow through leaving the sword resting almost gently against his side, just as electricity began to dance across its edge.
From there, it was all over but the details. Muscles stopped twitching into action and started twitching in convulsions, Spike living up to its name, sending spikes of lightning up and down the masked faunus's spine til he was unconscious.
Some Process made handcuffs, blindfold, and earmuffs applied to his downed victim, and a check in with Blake who'd had similar success, and the two guards were non-entities to the rest of the plan.
{I know there's nothing dignified about being tased, but you'd hope he'd have more control than to piss himself.}
I was trying not to think about that, thanks.
Looking around at the piles of contraband (totally not just to distract himself) he couldn't help but be disappointed. He'd known what to expect, but a part of him still hoped it would look like a villainous treasure trove of some sort. But no, it just looked like…storage. He'd seen several supply closets at Beacon that appeared more exciting.
But the next part promised to be interesting.
Before Jaune's very eyes, the crates, containers, boxes, cases, and more, containing their ill gotten goods, began to sink into the floor like it was made of quicksand.
Across Vale, from the industrial to residential to agricultural, similar scenes began to play out. Anywhere a White Fang holding had been identified by the Process, and where biological eyes were not carefully watching, stolen goods and resources disappeared into the bowels of Remnant itself.
The lightly defended holdings such as this one had those eyes forcefully blinded by Jaune and his allies. And with many other locations lacking active personnel or relying on digital security or anonymity being easily controlled by the Process, only a handful of sites remained untouched.
And for those remaining? Well, the police would be coming into a glut of useful tips and info over the next couple of weeks on Fang assets. Not to mention postings of some instructive bounties for Hunters to pursue on key Fang leaders.
Acquisitions underway! the Process merrily chirped.
Yes, and soon it will all be mine, Jaune cackled inside his mind.
{Except not really.}
…except not really. A small portion of the resources would go directly towards Cloudbank Solutions, but most of it would be laundered by Ozpin and the Process. Not only would he be paying his Beacon tuition several times over in under the table 'donations' of dust, ammunition, and so on. But small business owners who'd been devastated by the Fang would also see a sudden turn in fortunes by way of loans, charity, new opportunities, and the like.
He did feel a bit bad about indirectly profiting due to others misfortunes. But in the moment, at least, he couldn't help but just be enthralled by what was happening before him. And he wasn't alone in staring in fascination at the magically (scientifically?) disappearing loot.
{Hey, her deadpan stare now has some curiosity to it. Progress, if I've ever seen it.}
I'd be genuinely concerned if she found this boring, Jaune deadpanned himself.
It wasn't long before the show was over. The items had a long way to travel, and they wouldn't get there at a snail's pace. And now that the job was done, he and Blake also had a bit of a ride ahead of them.
The Transistor made its reappearance from the Cache back to normal space known with a flash of blue light.
{Flyboard mode, activated.} Blue unnecessarily announced as the not-sword came to float a few inches above and parallel to the floor.
Still not a big fan of that name. I mean, it works, but it sounds like some kind of weird extreme sport or something.
{Too bad. Everyone agreed Lumen's name for it was the best one, and it's caught on.}
Still think 'surfing' would have worked fine. It's not like we know anyone who actually surfs. And, it's like web surfing, what with you being a giant computer.
"We good to head out?" Blake interrupted the mental argument he was definitely winning.
"Ah, yep," he replied, totally not startled by her totally not-catlike propensity for sneaking up on people.
Stepping on the board, Blake stepping behind him a moment later, he felt the telekinetic anchors secure him in place.
For the hundredth time, I sure am glad we got a scan of Goodwitch's semblance. I don't want to imagine how uncomfortable 'flyboarding' might have been without it. As is, the telekinetic grip system feels practically natural.
Not to mention the sophistication of the adaptive aerodynamic foil and the intuitive piloting adjustments.
{Yeah, her Semblance is definitely overpowered. Not that we have room to talk, or complain.}
While the three discussed Goodwitch's magnificently mighty metaphysical muscles, a hole appeared below them, with the Transistor and its passengers falling into a controlled descent until they hit roughly 30 meters per second. Not long after, they hit the bottom of the hole, leaving only a perfectly straight tunnel in front of them, with no end in sight.
Beats waiting for the train, but the abandoned tunnel vibe doesn't provide the best scenery.
{Don't think of it as a train tunnel, think of it like a racetrack. We had no problems on the way here, we can pick it up a notch on the way back.}
Faster, huh? Jaune couldn't help but be excited. He'd never considered himself a speed junkie before, but before he'd worked out this Function he'd never been able to fly before either.
Turning around slightly, Jaune asked, "We'll be going faster this time around. If that's alright with you?"
"So long as you slow down if I ask." Blake responded, giving nothing but a frown…and placing a hand on his shoulder for extra grip.
Well okay then. Half again as fast peak speed this time? That should be safe enough.
{Why not double? It'll be fine. Just, don't let go.}
And with a crack, they were gone.
Last edited:
Overshare()
Prok
Go play Star Fetchers
- Location
- Scotland
... Well you know I'd adore making this canon, but it covers things that haven't actually happened yet. Either way, masterfully written, you really caught everyone's character very well, in my opinion, especially Lumen and Creme's bickering over something that probably didn't matter like an old married couple.
We'll call it canon-pending, for the moment.
You consider the list for a moment, and some of Blue's thoughts about why you're in this class specifically… kind of, float to the top. A couple of these options are just for the sake of bragging or complaining about things in your past you'd rather just leave alone.
But there is one that you think would help out when it comes up later.
"... And, when I was 12, I was completely banned from all Valish public transport for 6 months."
Somewhere on Remnant, a single finger curls in on a dried monkey's paw.
Doctor Oobleck chuckles just as everyone else starts to mutter curiously.
"Well," the good doctor says with a grin, "I know this is just introductions, but I think everyone here wants to hear the story behind that."
… Well, you're not going to complain about being found too interesting.
"Uh, so technically there were two periods that I was banned from public transport, just, for different reasons; from 10 to 12, and then six months after I turned 12. The first time, I didn't have the Transistor. My Semblance, uh, likes to latch onto any electronics it can, and just…"
You make a vague exploding gesture with a hand.
"So, uh, yeah, kinda hard to convince them to let you on when the train or the bus is breaking down because of you. My mother had to drive me to and from my elementary school, which was a… two, three-hour drive, every day, for about four months, until she appealed on the grounds of discrimination."
You quite liked those drives. So long as you were asleep, your Semblance wasn't breaking things down. Sure, your spine looked like an ⅂ by the time you got let back onto public transport, but you were the most well-rested primary-schooler you knew.
"And the second time?"
"Uh, the second time was after I created the Transistor, and properly… woke it up, but that's a story for another time. I was doing great, I wasn't suffering from migraines and nosebleeds every day, I could think for the first time in my life… aaaaand I was now being followed around by a 224-centimetre giant glowing blue medical aid which, the ability to manipulate time, space, matter, and energy aside, looks like a giant sword."
Four pairs of eyes swivel to the Transistor for a moment- well, maybe four, you can't quite tell what the invisible guy is doing, and Rashmi seems… nonplussed? Definitely the girls and Oobleck, though.
Everyone who went to Signal is damn well aware of what the Transistor looks like, you suppose.
"They tried to bar me again, which was around the point my mother threatened to get lawyers involved. They, instead of a lengthy civil suit, suggested having the Transistor classed as a medical aid for the physical strain of my Semblance, my paediatrician was more than happy to sign off on that, because she'd watched me struggle with my Semblance for about 5 years by that point, and I'm just glad that soon I'll be able to wave around a trainee Huntsman licence rather than medical papers."
You don't miss Oobleck silently scrutinising you the entire time, but when you finish, he gives you an easy smile, tinged with sadness.
"That's quite the story, Jaune. I'm glad you felt you could share it with us."
And… that's that. If he has any further feelings on the subject, he's very good at hiding them behind those glasses.
Oobleck gestures to Leathers, who blinks as if he's surprised it finally came to him.
You note that he's also customised his uniform- he's kept the shirt and trousers, ditched the tie, and kept his leather jacket, patches and all. Surprisingly, he makes it fit.
"Uh… mos' people call me Leathers, me Semblance is… Weird, I guess, and I's got a patch fer every band I've seen live, and a few other things, 's well."
… That's a lot of bands.
Only about 40 or so. That's about 2 of those big yearly concerts, maybe.
"Do you sew them on yourself?" Doctor Oobleck asks.
Leathers grunts affirmatively. It sounds very similar to his negative grunt, but time and experience have taught you well.
"Needle 'n thread's not 'ard to use. 'Sides, gotta know how to fix me jacket up 'f I get into a punchup."
"Very prudent of you," Oobleck says with a laugh, gesturing to the next person.
Creme calls her Semblance Rebound and reveals that it's still weird to wake up in the morning and not see scrape marks across the top of doorways- apparently living in a house with two antlered men leads to a lot of those.
The mostly-invisible boy gives a tiny squeak as quite a lot of eyes turn to him, and then becomes entirely invisible.
The blonde girl sitting next to him gently reaches over, silently taking his hand in hers- it's difficult to tell, but for the severe indentation in her fingers, the way they're pressed together so tightly they've turned white. He has her in a vice grip, but she isn't even grimacing at the pressure.
"Hoi," she whispers to him. "Hyu's safe."
The space is silent for a long moment before the hand in hers slowly fades in. She gives a great, big smile of long, sharp teeth as he pulls away from her. It clenches tight, in an obvious sign of effort as the invisibility seems to, shrink into the boy's core.
When it does, what you see is a boy in Beacon's uniform, the shirt buttoned incorrectly, the tie far too long, and enough long, red curls to put you in mind of a humanised spaniel.
He looks around the room nervously, bright blue eyes so wide you can't tell if they're on the verge of tears or just popping out his skull, and swallows down the lump in his throat.
"... Um… M-my name is, A-Al, Al Cadwallader, my Semblance is, uh…"
He trails off for a moment, and you wonder if he's lost his nerve, before he snickers to himself. He starts to speak up a little, just enough that people don't have to strain their ears to listen.
"M-my Semblance is usually a Bad There Day, and, um… I-I, um, like art. U-um, not painting, though, I prefer, p-pencils and markers…"
{My gods, it speaks.}
Oh, hush. You remember a time when you weren't much better.
Al trails off, but Oobleck smiles at him, so warm that it borders on fatherly, obviously proud of him for making an effort.
The blonde girl is next, and she gives everyone an enthusiastic wave and a smile that includes two rows of long, pointed teeth, like a shark's, or an eel's.
"Yallo! Mhy name iz Meri Terhenatar! Hy hef name for Zemblance but, eh, I nott know de vord in Valsh, uhhh… ulkoreuna?"
Blue?
{"Dead Hand." That's polar Atlesian she's speaking, by the way- the Grimm don't venture that far north unless they're very lost.}
Meri stops for a moment, tapping her lip in thought when she has to think of an interesting thought about herself.
"Oh… ah! Hy know six languages! Dere'z Suomi, me fazza tongue, Íslanskur, though hydunno anyvon who speaks it much, Niedermantal, after meeting one in the city, she vas nize, dey're not actually all cannibals hyu kno-"
You take a shot in the dark.
"Sie sprechen hohes Mantal?"
Meri blinks, before grinning at you.
<"Yes, I do! It's so nice to meet someone I can talk to properly! Valish is such a nice language, but it's so different to what I know!">
"That's very impressive, Meri- is Valish your sixth language?" Oobleck asks.
"Mm, will be seventh- hy know hy not fluent in it yet."
She's borderline conversational already- you're not sure what her standards are if she's saying that isn't fluency.
{Well, she doesn't have the grammar down, and her accent is very thick, to say nothing of the difficulties presented by her unique jaw structure, but what she has already is impressive- she can talk her way up and down about three-quarters of Atlas.}
Next up is Rashmi- you still can't get a read on the guy, and sometimes it seems like he isn't even there- like this exact moment.
"... Hello?" Oobleck says, genuine confusion in his voice.
Rashmi doesn't respond. Kapila gently presses her hand into his arm. You don't miss the distinct hesitation in her actions, either- as if she thinks she shouldn't be touching him.
He jerks into wakefulness and gives a little gah of surprise, before looking at Kapila, then Oobleck.
"... Oh, my apologies, I, um… had my head in the clouds. What was the…?"
"Please tell us your name, a word or phrase that describes your Semblance, and something interesting about yourself," Oobleck says patiently.
"Ah- my name is Rashmi Abha, my Semblance is… Unstuck In Time, and I have an avid interest in cooking- I like to learn new recipes from whoever I meet."
Oobleck's eyebrows raise by just a fraction, and you don't blame him. You can't say that cookery was on the list of hobbies you expected a boy who isn't on Remnant half the day to partake in.
"Really? What sort of cooking?"
"Oh, just about everything- from Vacuo, I enjoy the kala bhuna, biryani, I know how to make most flatbreads, though I have a preference for paratha, also injera from the borderlands. Vale-wise, your pies are something I think I could enjoy making, though puff pastry seems like a pain, but I'm willing to learn it for the sake of creating a beef wellington. I know very little of Atlesian dishes, as of yet, but I adore how Mistrali dishes vary so much across the country. I have a soft spot for its southern cuisine, though; between boudin noir, foie gras, moussaka, and roasting entire animals over grilling pits, I believe I'm going to be a very tubby man by the time I settle down," he says, patting his, already somewhat prodigious belly.
{Hey, man eats good. Can't hold it against him.}
That you cannot. Neither can Meri, because her eyes are glimmering like Ruby's when you told her that the Process is capable of creating plasma-based weaponry.
"Boudin noir- bl-blutvurst?" she says, barely holding back from drooling.
"Yes- do you want me to make you soohkay-" he says as Meri launches herself at him in a hug.
"Hyu'z de besht teammate a girl could azk for," she says, voice and eyes wavering on the verge of happy tears.
Kapila rolls her eyes and says her bit.
"My name is Kapila Agni, my Semblance is Command Me, and my favourite food is mutton kala bhuna."
Short, sweet, to the point wait did she say Command Me?
She did.
{... Kin-}
Don't.
{Sorry. Still, I have to wonder what the story behind that is.}
Mm.
… Blue Lien says it involves Rashmi somehow.
{No bet.}
Finally, Oobleck gestures to Lumen, who calls his Semblance, predictably, Luxin, and reveals that he once sold a Lord's wife his jewellery. They patently ignored his advice about light exposure and its shelf-life, so it disintegrated on live TV thanks to all of the camera flashes, and now he lives in constant fear of reprisal.
"Well! Thank you all for your contributions," Oobleck says brightly, "and thank you all for coming up with such interesting names for your Semblances! These will be important in the coming weeks."
Creme frowns, confused.
"... Why?"
"The adage goes that naming something gives it power. In some circumstances, this may appear to be the case, but in truth, naming something merely gives it form. You are all here, not because you lack control, or because your Semblance is broken- you are here because your Semblance is veiled in the unknown."
The room is silent now, quietly considering his words. Oobleck stands, gently arching his hands across his chest, and beginning to pace towards the classroom's whiteboard.
"A name is the first step in pulling back that veil; in giving form to the formless. When something has a name, it can be described. If something can be described, it can be understood, and understanding…" He turns, looking over you all with serious eyes, and a wide smile.
"Understanding is our sword against the darkness."
|||
The next two hours are quite a lot of foundational stuff on what Semblances are, and how they come to form- a lot of which, quite distressingly, adds up to we just don't know. Sometimes it seems like Semblances just form out of random chance, or at the inspiration of some higher being, rather than any actual correlation with the person in question.
Now, granted, you know of one example that points towards formative experiences affecting what Semblance somebody gets, but it's hardly yours to share. In a way, it kind of makes this classroom format make sense- there's no scientific way to fix someone's Semblance, yet, so cultivating introspection in a group of similarly-experienced individuals is the next best thing.
Eventually, the bell rings, and you all start to shuffle out.
"Now, for next week, we're going to start exploring the mechanical effects of Semblances, so I want you all to try and find a reasonable explanation for yours!" Oobleck says as everyone starts to lea-
"Jaune," he says, "would you mind staying behind for a moment?"
Ah dangit.
You stop, shooing your friends off when they look back in concern, and once the classroom is empty, you turn.
"Sir?"
Oobleck chuckles.
"I have a few questions about your story, if you don't mind."
You blink, entirely unsure where the doctor is going with this.
"... I'll, try my best? I was pretty young when it all happened," you admit.
If he's looking for names and faces, he's entirely out of luck, honestly; you don't even think you could remember what departments were involved-
"Why did you choose to tell that story, specifically?"
-and like that, every thought going through your head grinds to a halt.
"... I'm… sorry, I don't know what you mean," you say, sounding more confused about this by the second.
Oobleck gives you an easy smile.
"You're not in trouble if that's what you're worried about. Now please, feel free to take a seat."
You do so, pulling one of the circle's chairs towards you, while Oobleck does the same, setting himself across from you.
"First off, I fully admit that I did prompt you into sharing further details of your story, and if you feel I pressured you into it, then I apologise deeply. However, you still offered that story up to begin with. I suppose I'm mostly curious as to why, out of all the possible things you could have mentioned about yourself, or the little fun facts you must have gathered as a person… I simply wonder why you chose a story about difficulties your Semblance has caused you, and the steps you, and those who support you, took to resolve them."
Ah. When he says it like that, it does seem kinda… pretentious?
"... I don't really know why I'm here," you say after a moment. "I-I mean, with the Transistor, and, um, some other things, my Semblance is… fixed."
He chuckles lightly.
"So, you believe your Semblance is fixed, and that you do not need to attend counselling. Alright- that still doesn't explain to me why you shared something so deeply personal."
"... M-my understanding is that… support groups like these rely on people who've, beaten the problem, to give, hard evidence that it can be done. That, it's possible to, to-" you cycle through about a million different phrases, trying to find one that isn't incredibly patronising, negative, or repeating yourself, and eventually come up with "get over it."
Doctor Oobleck gives a little ahh of comprehension, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them again. Once more, he looks directly at you, pinning you in place with those green eyes, almost luminous against his sclera.
"... You shared a deep trauma from the formative stages of your life, in front of people you've known for, at best, a few years, in a public setting, just to 'give hard evidence that it can be done?'"
You flinch in your seat. Gods, outside perspective is a bitch.
"... Apparently."
Oobleck sighs.
"Jaune… I am a doctor of psychiatry, with a master's in trauma psychology. I only acquired a bachelor's in world history as a passion project, which happened to lead me to take a position at Beacon. History is my passion, but the mind is my business. I want you to understand that this conversation only comes from a place of concern."
He finishes cleaning his glasses and places them in his shirt collar, which you hate because now you have to look him in the eyes and you feel like they're about to burn a hole through you-
"How was your social life, as a child? Did you have many friends growing up?"
You snort, shaking your head without an answer.
"That bad, hm?"
"It wasn't… nonexistent, I guess, but… first, I couldn't do things with the other kids because of my migraines, and then nobody wanted to be near the kid with the big blue sword following him around. The only people I hung out with were… the same couple of people, just, weirdos and freaks like me. Then I went to Signal, and… things got better."
They didn't become good. But they got better.
Hearing yourself speak, in both your inside and outside voices, you finally start to realise how… bitter you are about all that.
Man. The things you ignore until you're forced to confront them.
"I see. Do you want to know why I believe you shared your story, today? Beyond the, I'll admit, pragmatic reasoning you've provided."
You make a vague gesture that translates from sullen teenager to Valish as 'hit me, doc.'
"I think you want to be liked by the people around you. I think you fear being excluded like you were, so you, overextend, overshare, and you try to turn that into comedy because even then, you realised that not trying to lighten the mood would be a terrible idea. So, you tried to play the class clown with your trauma."
"I wouldn't really say I was aiming for class clown…"
Oobleck chuckles.
"Fair enough, but you understand where the comparison is coming from. My point is… I believe you feel like Beacon is a fresh start, and your only goal right now, even if you didn't realise it, was to not have a repeat of your childhood exclusion. Am I wrong?"
You shake your head for a moment, before being a little firmer in your disagreement.
"I… I don't think you're entirely right. I still did it for the reasons I said. I don't think that would have changed if I had been better off as a kid. I still told it because it was interesting and because it was relevant."
The doctor is silent for a few moments, pondering on your point.
"Have you ever heard of… a psychological archetype, known as the wounded physician?"
… You're not sure where he's going with this.
"... No, sir."
"It is based in the premise that the analyst- the physician- is compelled to heal because they themselves have been wounded in the past."
… Ah.
Some emotion must come through on your face, because Doctor Oobleck smiles, and keeps going.
"Now, this is by no means a formal diagnosis, more of a, 'stop me if I'm wrong-' you think of all experiences as opportunities to grow, to learn, and you try your best to be empathetic and accepting of circumstances. You, feel that your own experiences are best utilised as tools, in order to help others through theirs. Sometimes, perhaps, when you help others, it feels like you're telling them something you wish you'd known when you were younger. Is this starting to sound familiar?"
You're certainly not stopping him.
"Don't most people feel that way?"
You know that's not true. Statistically and logically. You're just being defensive and you don't know why.
Oobleck's smile hasn't really shifted- it's just as warm and, in its own way, you realise, accepting as it's always been. But now, there's just a tinge of sadness, there. A little blue in the sun.
"No, Jaune. They don't, and I wouldn't wish them to. It is a different perspective, but it is one always brought on by trauma. That sense of empathy is by no means a flaw, but it is a weight on your shoulders."
You choke back a snort.
Just one more for the fucking pile.
"And what do you suggest I do, doctor?"
Even as you say it, you regret it- you don't want to be snide to someone who's… just trying to help you?
"I suggest," Oobleck starts, taking your misstep in stride, "that even though you are, in your own words, 'hard evidence' when it comes to your Semblance, you may benefit from approaching this counselling from a less certain perspective. With fresh eyes, if you will."
Oobleck walks to the door, stopping and turning to face you.
"I would very much like you to stay, Jaune. This class isn't just about Semblances, at the end of the day. Even so, my door is always open during office hours, if you'd prefer a more private setting to talk. A visit would never feel unwelcome."
He opens the door, ushers you out, and you go your separate ways for the day.
|||
This is, technically, your self-directed sparring hour for the day, and you should be in the gymnasium, pairing off with someone and beating the absolute stuffing out of them until one of you gives in or nearly breaks the other's Aura.
However.
You think you've earned a pleasant stroll through the garden to engage in some good old-fashioned introspection.
{Jaune, you shouldn't let what Oobleck said get to you.}
Why? Wasn't he right?
He made some correct assumptions, yes, but that doesn't mean they were made in malice.
You know that. That doesn't mean you really want to… deal with them, just yet.
{So why aren't you in the gymnasium, beating someone senseless? I'm sure Dove would enjoy a rematch.}
Because you don't really want to do that either. You just want to…
Fuck.
{... I mean I'm pretty sure you could get some of the girls interested if you really want to-}
You can't stop yourself from laughing, which garners a weird stare from someone in the year above, you think, and you swiftly move on. No, you just… you want to be alone with your thoughts, but you don't want to deal with your thoughts, and it's just…
Fuck.
You need a distraction. Something that you can just mindlessly do until the sun goes down and you can go to sleep and have all of this be tomorrow Jaune's problem.
So, what do you wanna do with yourself for 6 hours? Approval voting in place, pick as many as you want, top 3 win.
[] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[] Read The Golem- it's an interesting story! And, frankly, it seems a little less dreary than the other one.[???: +1] (Current ???: 1/10)
-[] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0/10)
[] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[] The Team: find one of your new roommates. Sharing incredibly personal details is old hat for them, at this point.
-[] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
-[] Someone Completely Different: find someone you've never talked to before! Oobleck's worried you're worried about being excluded? Go and find a friend you haven't made yet.
[] Explore: Beacon's an old school, and frankly, considering who built it, and his hiring practices, you don't doubt for a second that this school has all kinds of weird nooks, crannies, and spots people only know about by stumbling on them through sheer chance. But where?
-[] Explore the Garden: you're convinced there's something weird about Beacon's garden. The paths wind and twirl in a way that makes it easy to get lost in an open field. The decorations appear to be placed with care, yet without rhyme or reason for what's around them. The plants are completely regimented, but some of them shouldn't be in bloom until spring. You want to know what's up with... all of that.
-[] Explore the Building: pretty much all of Vale is still stone and stained glass, outside of the hypermodern office buildings in some parts of the Commercial District, but Beacon is... Beacon. It's a Huntsman's Academy. There has to be some weird stuff around here, somewhere. Even if it's just a weird staircase that leads to a little offshoot balcony, you'll take it.
-[] Explore the Basement: OH YEAH THAT POWER CABLE IS STILL THERE. HOPEFULLY. Really, if it isn't, that's just weirder, and you're down for weirder right now.
[] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
Last edited:
Kanata.EXE
Programmer
- Location
- Indonesia
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
infinityDivided
Prince Of Doom
- Location
- USA
Pfft. Localized omniscience for the win.
- Location
- Planet Earth
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read The Golem- it's an interesting story! And, frankly, it seems a little less dreary than the other one.[???: +1] (Current ???: 1)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] Someone Completely Different: find someone you've never talked to before! Oobleck's worried you're worried about being excluded? Go and find a friend you haven't made yet.
The Golem sounds like good fun, as does meeting with friend(ly people) we already know. Then going to find someone new because Oobleck's not entirely wrong.
Blake can either fuck off or wait her damn turn, up to her but I feel no reason to talk to her right now.
-[X] Read The Golem- it's an interesting story! And, frankly, it seems a little less dreary than the other one.[???: +1] (Current ???: 1)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] Someone Completely Different: find someone you've never talked to before! Oobleck's worried you're worried about being excluded? Go and find a friend you haven't made yet.
The Golem sounds like good fun, as does meeting with friend(ly people) we already know. Then going to find someone new because Oobleck's not entirely wrong.
Blake can either fuck off or wait her damn turn, up to her but I feel no reason to talk to her right now.
- Location
- Chile
I honestly don't know how to feel about this.
We voted for Jaune to say this.
Jaune didnt choose to say that because of some subconcious reason or because of how he deals with his trauma, it was literally just something we choose.
So the whole conversation afterwards feels really out of place.
Is every single thing we vote for gonna have this kind of ramifications and implications?
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] Someone Completely Different: find someone you've never talked to before! Oobleck's worried you're worried about being excluded? Go and find a friend you haven't made yet.
Finding Pyrrha, Ren and Nora is the only thing that seems interesting. I like team JNPR more than RWBY in canon.
We voted for Jaune to say this.
Jaune didnt choose to say that because of some subconcious reason or because of how he deals with his trauma, it was literally just something we choose.
So the whole conversation afterwards feels really out of place.
Is every single thing we vote for gonna have this kind of ramifications and implications?
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] Someone Completely Different: find someone you've never talked to before! Oobleck's worried you're worried about being excluded? Go and find a friend you haven't made yet.
Finding Pyrrha, Ren and Nora is the only thing that seems interesting. I like team JNPR more than RWBY in canon.
Last edited:
JayTar
Idea briefcase
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] The Team: find one of your new roommates. Sharing incredibly personal details is old hat for them, at this point.
Can we just hang out with friends or something? Something relaxing?
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] The Team: find one of your new roommates. Sharing incredibly personal details is old hat for them, at this point.
Can we just hang out with friends or something? Something relaxing?
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
More updates! Best day of my week!
Approval voting is nice, but there are three specific things I'd really like to do.
First one is reading "On the Souls of Grimm": Ozpin recommended getting it done before The Golem, and I want to start progressing the whole "Transistor Soul" plotline ASAP.
Second, I want to deal with Blake, because the longer she's stalking us instead of being befriended the longer things have to get... weird. Team RWBY don't really understand things like boundaries, and it's just going to be awkward knowing she's just... THERE. All the time.
And finally, I want to follow the cable, because if we can find out about Amber, it gives Jaune a damn good reason to finish Directory Repair soonest. I will, however, also throw approval votes at the other exploration options, because I crave worldbuilding like an addict craves their next fix.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Explore: Beacon's an old school, and frankly, considering who built it, and his hiring practices, you don't doubt for a second that this school has all kinds of weird nooks, crannies, and spots people only know about by stumbling on them through sheer chance. But where?
-[X] Explore the Garden: you're convinced there's something weird about Beacon's garden. The paths wind and twirl in a way that makes it easy to get lost in an open field. The decorations appear to be placed with care, yet without rhyme or reason for what's around them. The plants are completely regimented, but some of them shouldn't be in bloom until spring. You want to know what's up with... all of that.
-[X] Explore the Building: pretty much all of Vale is still stone and stained glass, outside of the hypermodern office buildings in some parts of the Commercial District, but Beacon is... Beacon. It's a Huntsman's Academy. There has to be some weird stuff around here, somewhere. Even if it's just a weird staircase that leads to a little offshoot balcony, you'll take it.
-[X] Explore the Basement: OH YEAH THAT POWER CABLE IS STILL THERE. HOPEFULLY. Really, if it isn't, that's just weirder, and you're down for weirder right now.
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
--[X] Weiss
I mean, I count this as a good thing. Our votes shape the character's outlook on things in ways beyond just whatever spur of the moment action they take.
Approval voting is nice, but there are three specific things I'd really like to do.
First one is reading "On the Souls of Grimm": Ozpin recommended getting it done before The Golem, and I want to start progressing the whole "Transistor Soul" plotline ASAP.
Second, I want to deal with Blake, because the longer she's stalking us instead of being befriended the longer things have to get... weird. Team RWBY don't really understand things like boundaries, and it's just going to be awkward knowing she's just... THERE. All the time.
And finally, I want to follow the cable, because if we can find out about Amber, it gives Jaune a damn good reason to finish Directory Repair soonest. I will, however, also throw approval votes at the other exploration options, because I crave worldbuilding like an addict craves their next fix.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Explore: Beacon's an old school, and frankly, considering who built it, and his hiring practices, you don't doubt for a second that this school has all kinds of weird nooks, crannies, and spots people only know about by stumbling on them through sheer chance. But where?
-[X] Explore the Garden: you're convinced there's something weird about Beacon's garden. The paths wind and twirl in a way that makes it easy to get lost in an open field. The decorations appear to be placed with care, yet without rhyme or reason for what's around them. The plants are completely regimented, but some of them shouldn't be in bloom until spring. You want to know what's up with... all of that.
-[X] Explore the Building: pretty much all of Vale is still stone and stained glass, outside of the hypermodern office buildings in some parts of the Commercial District, but Beacon is... Beacon. It's a Huntsman's Academy. There has to be some weird stuff around here, somewhere. Even if it's just a weird staircase that leads to a little offshoot balcony, you'll take it.
-[X] Explore the Basement: OH YEAH THAT POWER CABLE IS STILL THERE. HOPEFULLY. Really, if it isn't, that's just weirder, and you're down for weirder right now.
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
--[X] Weiss
Last edited:
- Location
- Where Jokes Die
[
] No, the Transistor is right. You should... uh, not fuck, but nothing could prove Oobleck's diagonosis wrong more than going on a date! Solicit Weiss for a cup of coffee. What could possibly go wrong?
] No, the Transistor is right. You should... uh, not fuck, but nothing could prove Oobleck's diagonosis wrong more than going on a date! Solicit Weiss for a cup of coffee. What could possibly go wrong?
infinityDivided
Prince Of Doom
- Location
- USA
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
ADeshantis
King on the Chromium Throne
- Location
- United states
... Adding Talk to Weiss to my approval votes actually because oh my God I just remembered what they did last time they met.
The embarrassment will be nuclear.
The embarrassment will be nuclear.
Dybbukpossesed
Falling Somewhere
- Location
- California
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
RoninSword
Sky God
- Location
- Canada
You seem to have butchered the bolded parts of the sentence.
Also here:
I'll have a more detailed comment later.
Last edited:
[X] Read: you have two books in your bag waiting for you to form an opinion on something. They're not going anywhere, and it's a nice day out, so neither are you.
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You
-[X] Read On The Souls Of Grimm: Ozpin did say to read this first, if only to get it out of the way with. [???: +1] (Current ???: 0)
[X] Talk: surely there's someone around here who's playing not-technically-hooky. It'll help you get out of your own head, at least.
-[X] 75% of Team RWBY: you've become... friendly, with most of the girls on RWBY. Basically anyone except Blake could make for decent conversation right now.
[X] Deal With The Catgirl Currently Stalking You