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Tragic Tales From Beacon Academy - Chapter 2
🕑 Added 2024-10-26 06:30:29 +0000 UTCNext chapter of this. Probably not as funny as the last chapter since, for once, Pyrrha doesn't take the L and isn't treated too harshly. To compensate, I upped Blake's Worstness. Figured it's fine since I did write a bunch of Knightshade stuff somewhat recently.
My next comm is a NSFW crossover oneshot between Cyberpunk 2077 and RWBY. Futa Weiss and Rebecca. Let's see if that interests you guys.
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Blake sighed heavily, lowering herself to sit across from Jaune. She wrapped her arms around her knees, curling into herself as though the weight of her words was physically pulling her down. Her expression was distant, the kind of practiced, tortured look that seemed all too familiar to Jaune by now.
"It all started when I was twelve," Blake began, her voice barely above a whisper, "I was young and naive. Idealistic. I wanted so badly to make the world a better place, to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. And that's when I met him." Jaune fought back a sigh, nodding politely, but inwardly he was already calculating the shortest route back to the dorms. Maybe he could pull off a believable excuse. He had to be creative, though. His foolproof 'dog in the washer' excuse wouldn't work cause Blake was one of those weirdos who hated dogs. She'd probably enjoy the thought of a dog drowning. Sick.
"Adam was...different from anyone I'd ever met," Blake continued, staring off into the distance like she was narrating some tragic scene from one of her (trashy) novels, "There was this...dark charisma about him. He was strong, passionate, and unwavering in his beliefs. I looked up to him. I trusted him, Jaune," she said his name with an almost painful emphasis, her gaze never leaving him. Jaune fought the urge to cringe, realizing with horror that she expected him to actually respond. To sympathize.
"Uh...yeah. I mean, he sounds intense," he mumbled, hoping it would satisfy her enough for him to ease his way out of the conversation.
But Blake just sighed, sinking deeper into her tragic narrative, "He was more than intense. He was...intoxicating." Uh...she was still talking about a person, right? And not a bottle of liquor? "I became enamored with his vision, his drive to make a difference. I believed in him, even when he led me down a path I could never escape." Except she did escape cause she was here, so...
"Yeah...wow, that's rough." Jaune's eyes darted around, searching for any kind of distraction. Nothing. Not even a stray Zwei to draw attention away. He could feel himself getting pulled deeper into her tale of angst and tragedy.
Blake's expression softened, but only briefly, as if the memory itself was so haunting she could hardly bear to remember it, "I didn't know the depths of his darkness then. I thought...I thought he was just misunderstood. That the anger and the hatred in his eyes were justified. It wasn't until much later that I realized...he was a monster."
Jaune gave a sympathetic nod, barely masking his desire to bolt, "Yeah...I mean, he does sound like a real bad guy. But you were young, right? Just got caught up in the moment, like you said?"
Blake shook her head, her eyes reflecting a wounded, tragic wisdom. Or at least, she probably thought it was wisdom, "You don't understand, Jaune. I wasn't some innocent bystander who just happened to cross paths with him. I was seduced by his ideals. I believed in him with my whole heart. And that...that's what makes it so tragic."
"Right. Super tragic," Jaune muttered, inching back slightly, but she moved forward in tandem, her intense gaze locking him in place again.
"There was a darkness in him I thought I could heal. I thought, maybe, I could be the light he needed. Pull him back from the edge. But instead, his darkness consumed me. I didn't see it until it was too late, until I was in too deep." Her voice dropped even lower, as though she were reciting her final words on a stage, "He was a master manipulator, and I was his willing pawn."
Jaune swallowed, feeling a bead of sweat forming on his brow. This was just as bad as he'd feared. Blake had fully shifted into tragic heroine mode, reciting her story as if she were some saintly figure drawn into the dark by an irresistible villain. And she clearly wasn't anywhere near finished, "I remember our first mission together," she whispered, her voice laced with melodrama, "He looked at me with those smoldering blindfolded eyes-" Wait, what? How you you smolder while blindfolded? "-and it felt like he was staring straight into my soul. He told me that we were fighting for the voiceless, for those who had been trampled under the boot of Human greed and prejudice. I was...enchanted."
Jaune pressed his back against the tree, feeling as though he might sink into it if he tried hard enough, "Yeah, sounds like he had a lot of...charisma," he mumbled, attempting to cut her off before she got into more details.
But Blake was unstoppable. Her haunted eyes looked to the distance, though he knew they'd snap back as soon as he tried to escape, "He promised me that he would lead us to victory, that we would finally be free. And I believed him. I thought we were helping the Faunus, that we'd change the world. I was blind, Jaune. Blind to his darkness, blind to his hatred." Her voice dropped into a mournful whisper, "But even heroes can fall. I realized, far too late, that he wasn't a hero. He was...something else. A villain, an embodiment of wrath and spite. And I was powerless to stop him."
Jaune was nodding absently now, his own eyes glazed over. He felt a sort of out-of-body sensation as she continued her tragic retelling, feeling as though he was watching himself sit there, trapped by Blake's long-winded lament of past tragedies where she was purely the victim.
"And by the time I knew the truth, I was already in too deep," she murmured, voice trembling, "I had given him my loyalty, my heart, and he had twisted it, shattered it. He left me with nothing but regret and a trail of broken promises. I was nothing more than a puppet dancing to his strings."
"Right," Jaune muttered, trying to mask his exhaustion and the fact that he just did not care. Maybe that was mean of him, but he'd spent the past ten years having to live with everyone from family to friends to complete strangers treating him like their personal therapist. And Blake was definitely more a stranger than a friend. All he knew before today was that she wore a bow everywhere and liked to read trashy 'romance' novels out in public, "That's...definitely rough. But, uh, you're here now, right? You got away from him. That's good!"
Blake's gaze remained fixed on him, her expression as somber as ever, "But I can never escape the guilt, Jaune. Every choice I made, every time I turned a blind eye to his cruelty...it haunts me. I thought I could save him. But I was the one who needed saving."
Jaune struggled to keep a straight face, "Yeah, I mean, everyone's got a...rough spot or two. But hey, you're doing great here at Beacon! New friends, new experiences. Maybe you could talk to your team about this?" he suggested just a little too desperately.
But Blake just shook her head, clearly locked in her narrative, "I don't think I'll ever truly escape that darkness. His darkness. I carry it with me, Jaune. It's part of who I am now, a reminder of the dangers of loving the wrong man."
Jaune forced a smile, desperately looking around again, hoping for a distraction. Any way to get out of this, "Yeah, I...totally get that." He didn't, "But, um, you know, if you ever need to just, uh, talk about...something less tragic, I'm, you know, here for that too." He'd take her extolling the virtues of Kunoichi Kitty's Sexcapades over this.
Blake looked away again, her expression softening ever so slightly, "Thank you, Jaune. I just...needed to share my burden with someone who would understand."
Jaune's smile grew tighter, feeling like he was hanging on by a thread, "Yep. Here to help. Totally."
Blake gave him one last sorrowful nod, then turned back to the tree, her expression melancholy and distant. For a fleeting moment, Jaune thought he was finally free. Then she looked back at him, her face haunted, and he knew she had more to say, "There's something else..."
Jaune sighed inwardly, resigning himself to yet another chapter in the saga of Blake's Dark and Tragic Past™. There really was no escape.
Blake sighed, glancing up at the sky with a wistful expression that Jaune knew all too well by now. Just when he thought he might have reached the end of her tragedy monologue, she shook her head, as if remembering something even more depressing, "You know," she began, voice thick with regret, "before I met Adam...I had a family. A good family. We were close, we cared for each other, and I never wanted for anything."
Jaune felt his eye twitch. Was she seriously about to give him a tragic monologue about not having a tragic life? He could feel the back of his head calling to him, practically begging him to slam it against the rough bark of the tree.
Blake continued, her expression forlorn, "I had a mother who doted on me, always encouraging me to follow my dreams. My father...he was the chief of Menagerie, respected and revered. They supported me, loved me. I had everything I could ever want. Like fish every day for dinner."
Jaune gave her a slow, bewildered nod, fighting the urge to point out that, by most people's standards, that was a really great life. Especially for someone living outside the walls, "Right, so that's...good?"
Blake's face fell even further, as though he'd said the most tone-deaf thing imaginable, "But don't you see, Jaune? That's exactly the problem. I had no darkness in my life. No deep, personal tragedy. I was so...so...sheltered."
Jaune felt his patience almost snap in two. Almost, "Sheltered because you had a loving family and a strong support system?"
Blake nodded gravely, clearly not picking up on his growing frustration, "Exactly. I was so protected, so privileged. And because of that, I was so painfully naïve when I met Adam. I didn't understand what darkness was, not truly. I was too innocent, too pure. And that made me a perfect target."
Jaune stared at her, dumbfounded. Was...Was she really trying to make herself look better right now? "So...you're saying your tragedy...is that you didn't have any tragedy before you met Adam?"
Blake nodded, her amber eyes brimming with intensity, "Yes! Do you understand now? I was raised in this loving, safe environment. I had no understanding of what real pain was, no reason to mistrust anyone. So when Adam came along with his dark charisma and strong ideals, I didn't see the warning signs. I thought he was noble. That he would protect me, just like my family always had." Right. Protect her. Cause clearly someone with Huntress-level training who he'd seen take down a pack of Beowolves like it was nothing was some tragic, weak maiden.
Jaune rubbed his temples, trying to process the sheer irony of her complaints. He wanted to tell her that most people would probably kill for a life without pain and suffering. But he knew, deep down, that nothing he could say would get through to her. Blake had fully committed to her role as the tragic heroine and nothing he said would change her mind. She'd just take it as another sign of how 'tragic' her life was that people envied her for having what sounded like an idyllic life.
Still, he had to try, "You know, Blake," he began slowly, trying to pick his words carefully, "Most people would, uh, actually be grateful to have grown up like that."
But she shook her head, sighing as though he'd just proven how little he truly understood, "That's the thing, Jaune. I was grateful. I had everything anyone could ever want. But it was like living in a dream with no concept of the real world. And then...I woke up. When I met Adam, I woke up to a nightmare. I was like a lamb led to slaughter, completely unaware of the cruelty the world was capable of. That's why it hurts, Jaune. I was living in blissful ignorance, and it all came crashing down."
Jaune's fingers twitched, again resisting the urge to bang his head against the tree. Unaware of cruelty? Wasn't she a Faunus? Didn't they have the rawest deal on Remnant? "Right. Makes total sense. I mean, who wouldn't be devastated about growing up with...uh, love and support?"
Blake nodded, oblivious to his sarcasm, "Exactly. That's why it's all so tragic. I never knew what real pain was until I met him. And then it was too late."
Jaune forced a smile, feeling like he was slowly losing his grip on reality, "Well, it sounds like a real...complicated situation."
Blake looked at him with soft, sad eyes, as though he'd finally understood her plight, "Thank you, Jaune. It means a lot to have someone who can...share in the weight of it all."
"Right. Any time," he muttered, inwardly screaming. He just wanted to yell, to shake her shoulders and tell her that having a good life wasn't a tragedy. But no, he was stuck here, nodding along, the unwilling listener to yet another tale of woe, this time about the absence of woe.
Somewhere, he thought he heard the tree behind him laugh.
He was forced to listen to Blake recount her 'tragic' childhood tales about her Dad carrying her on his shoulders or how her Mom doted on her. It was...annoying. He loved his family, as large and chaotic as they were, but that love was somewhat marred by the fact that he had to play therapist for them before he even reached double digits in age. For every good memory he had, there was another that ruined it.
Dad teaching him to ride a bike? Great. Dad talking about how he got drunk one night and spent Lily's college fund in a Vacuan casino and now he was scrambling to fix it? Not so great. Saphron comforting him after his first crush only wanted him as her therapist? Sweet. Saphron and Terra using him as their relationship counselor afterward? Well...he needed some bleach by the time the night was done. There were some things family was never meant to find out about each other.
So hearing Blake talk about her no-strings-attached family bonding made him jealous. He needed to leave before he said something he'd regret.
"Blake, I...need to process this," he said slowly, trying to find the right words that would let him get out of there, "Your story's so...tragic that I need time. Time to truly understand the...horrible stuff you've been through." It took a Herculean effort to say all that with a straight face.
"I...I understand." She nodded solemnly, giving him a sad but understanding smile. Ugh, "I'm sorry, I know it was overwhelming, but I needed to talk to someone I could trust." Despite the fact that they exchanged precisely zero words before today. But yeah, trust, "I'll come talk to you again when you process it."
"It'll be a while. It was so devastating to hear." How he managed to say that without sounding like he was being held at gunpoint without his Aura, he'd never know.
"It was. I don't know how I'm still going myself." She grabbed his shoulders with both hands and looked him in the eyes, "Tell me once you finally process it, Jaune. There are still more things I have to confess. More that needs to be said."
"Sure, you have my word." Not too long ago, the thought of even breaking a promise never would've occured to him. An Arc never breaks a promise, or so the family motto said. But you know what? The family motto didn't say anything about everything treating him like their emotional support Jaune! "I should go. The...darkness is making me woozy."
He disentangled himself from her and fast-walked back to team JNPR's dorm room. It was only a stay of execution and he knew it. He couldn't put off Blake forever and she'd eventually start talking about how tragic it was that she'd been spoiled till she was twelve. Hearing about everyone's pasts and dark secrets was bad enough. Having to listen to someone talk about how horrible it was that their life wasn't horrible was somehow even more annoying.
He managed to make it inside the dorm room and froze when he saw Pyrrha sitting on her bed with her back towards him. She didn't turn to face him, continuing to stare out the window, her face hidden from view. That was not a good sign. It was an all too common view he'd seen time and time again. He'd go back to his room, see someone sitting with his back towards him, and then they'd start trauma dumping. It was like they lived on the drama and setup.
Pyrrha had been one of the few lifelines he had in this place. While everyone - even Ruby - looked for an excuse to start confessing to him if he said the wrong word, Pyrrha didn't. She was all polite smiles and gentle encouragement, which was a relief after years of having to watch every word he said. Or worse, the ones like Blake who didn't even need to misinterpret his words and assumed that his silence meant he was totally interested to hear their life stories.
"Hey, Pyr. What's up?" he said casually, a crooked smile on his face.
"Up..." she muttered, still not turning to face him, "You know, people have looked up to me since I won my first tournament." Jaune felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew that voice. That was the 'I'm getting ready to spill my guts' voice, "I was so thrilled when I first won. I felt like I was on top of the world. But then, things changed. People started treating me differently. I wasn't Pyrrha Nikos anymore. I was the Invincible Girl, the warrior who could never lose. And after a while, that was all I was to them."
He felt the sinking sensation grow as Pyrrha continued, her voice soft and tinged with a sort of weary sorrow, "It's strange, you know," she said, her gaze still fixed out the window, "For as long as I can remember, people have looked up to me. At first, it was flattering - winning tournaments, setting records. I thought it was everything I'd ever wanted."
Jaune nodded along, unsure how to respond. Sure, it sounded rough, but it was hard to feel too sympathetic. She was talking about being famous and beloved like it was a burden. Wasn't that, like, the dream for most people? That had been his dream when he first got here (besides wanting to avoid more trauma dumping). Be a Huntsman and an inspiration to others she could live up to the deeds of his ancestors. It was pretty rare for a Huntsman to want to keep their head down and out of sight. Ruby was the weird one for wanting to be the normal girl with normal knees, to use her words.
He scratched his head, trying to process her words. He knew Pyrrha as the humble, kind, almost saint-like teammate who never seemed to let anything get her down. Hearing her complain about being 'too perfect' and 'too admired' felt like he'd stepped into some bizarre alternate reality.
"Well, I mean...I guess that's tough," he offered, though he was struggling to keep himself from asking how being famous could possibly be a problem. "But you've got people here who see you for who you are, right? You've got your team, and me, and...everyone at Beacon?"
She finally turned towards him, her expression serious, but her eyes were distant, as if she hadn't fully heard him, "That's the thing, Jaune. Even here, people look at me and see that...ideal. That Invincible Girl who can never falter. And I worry that...maybe they don't actually see me at all."
He tilted his head, giving her a sympathetic smile, but internally, he was struggling. She was talking about how nobody could see 'the real her', but he couldn't help thinking that she sounded like the heroine from some tragic romance novel. The kind that Blake desperately wanted to be. Like, sure, it was probably weird to be famous, but was it really that big of a problem?
That and since when did anyone at Beacon look at her like that? Sure, Weiss was a fan during the day of Initiation, but after that? No one. Nada. Zip. No one in team RWBY or JNPR treated her like she was a celebrity and no one else at school did either. Hell, Cardin tried to 'prank' her by tossing a box of rapier wasps at her during their trip to Forever Fall. And he would've if Jaune hadn't said the wrong (right?) thing and he suddenly got distracted by trauma dumping about his councilman dad. Ugh.
As Pyrrha continued on, Jaune felt the urge to remind her that she was at Beacon, a school filled with students who probably didn't care about her tournament wins nearly as much as she thought. But he also knew that saying anything remotely dismissive would only make her delve further into her sad-but-beautiful isolation.
Pyrrha let out a deep sigh, looking almost wistful, "Sometimes, I just wish I could be...normal. Just Pyrrha. Not some famous warrior or a champion to be worshipped. Just me."
Jaune nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Well, that makes sense. Normal's good...I think." Was he being a dismissive jerk? Probably, but it kinda seemed like she was blowing this way out of proportion. Sure, maybe she was a household name back at Mistral, but in Beacon? Literally no one was gushing over her or putting her on a pedestal like she kept claiming. He'd notice if Ren and Nora were treating her differently cause she was a fighting champ.
She seemed to pick up on his lack of understanding, but instead of being offended, she smiled sadly, "I know it sounds strange. But when people expect you to be perfect all the time, it starts to feel...suffocating. Like there's no room for mistakes, or doubts, or...anything human."
Jaune squirmed, his mind racing for a way to escape without being rude. He wasn't mad at her, not like he'd been with Blake. He got that she felt isolated. But hearing her complain about being too perfect, (supposedly) too admired, (supposdely) too well-loved? It was just...weird.
"Yeah," he said, nodding slowly, "I guess that makes sense." He shifted a bit on his feet, glancing at the door, "It's just, y'know, lots of people would probably love to be where you are. Not that it isn't rough, but it could be worse...?"
She sighed, as though his words only confirmed her fears, "I know people think that way. They think, 'What could someone like her possibly have to complain about?' But that's part of the problem, Jaune. I have no one I can really talk to about this. No one who'll understand without thinking I'm...well, privileged and ungrateful."
He winced, feeling a bit guilty now. That was exactly what he'd been thinking. And while he didn't exactly agree with her, he could see where she was coming from. Kind of. Still sounded like making a mountain out of a molehill.
"You're not ungrateful," he said carefully, "And I get that it's hard when everyone expects you to be perfect. I just...I think it's hard for people to understand what that's like."
Pyrrha nodded, seeming to appreciate his attempt to empathize, "I know. And that's why it's so isolating. It's an 'inside the kingdom problem,' as they say." She gave him a small, bittersweet smile, "But it's still a problem."
Jaune gave her a sympathetic nod, but internally, he was torn between relief and awkwardness. Sure, it was nice to see Pyrrha letting her guard down a bit, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this was some strange, tragic monologue about...being too amazing. Because she could've just...not entered tournaments? Or maybe not constantly wearing the same outfit that was so connected to the fame she hated so much?
Was he victim-blaming?
"Well, if it helps." He offered her a small, awkward smile. The sane part of him wanted to shut up, but Pyrrha was his friend. His partner. She wasn't the same as everyone else, "You can talk to me about it any time. I may not totally understand, but...I'm here."
She seemed to brighten a bit at his words, and he felt a pang of guilt for wanting to escape just a minute ago, "Thank you, Jaune. I appreciate it more than you know."
"Sure." He scratched the back of his head, glancing toward the door, "But, uh, if you ever want to, you know, do something normal...I'm here for that too."
Pyrrha chuckled, and for a moment, he caught a glimpse of the real her - the one who wasn't a tragic heroine or a famous champion, just...Pyrrha, "I'd like that, Jaune. Really, I would."
He gave her a small smile, genuinely relieved. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing, after all. Sure, Pyrrha's problems were about as In-Kingdom as they came, but it seemed like she actually needed someone to listen rather than just validate how horrible her life was. And for the first time today, he didn't feel like running.
At least...not yet.
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Like I said, Pyrrha ended up not taking as much of an L as I originally envisioned. Jaune is still internally pointing out that she's making a much bigger deal of it than she probably should, but he's actually sympathetic towards her anyway. Then you have Blake. The tragedy of her lack of tragedy before meeting Adam.
Question:
1. Someone suggested doing a chapter for Cinder. Would you guys be interested? It might be difficult to make it comedic since even for this cast, her backstory is grimm. Literal child abuse and slavery. Not sure if Jaune could be flippant or treat it lightheartedly. Ozpin and Salem have darker backgrounds, but at least those are fantastical and larger than life versus the sadly all-too-real child exploitation.
Comments
The Brotherhood of Steel
I'd be down for a Cinder chapter. If anything is gives Jaune a reason to actually listen to someone and help
pilot puntastic
Worst Girl Blake is still my favorite Blake that you write. It's nice that Jaune is sort of giving Pyrrha a chance. Sure he would have had to listen to her regardless but the fact that he's actively listening and does sympathize with her is a great sign. For the first Cinder's backstory is incredibly dark. Maybe the joke could be that she refuses to tell Jaune anything about her past?
