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Sneaking His Way into the Multiverse (RWBY Jaune, WC-lite mechanics)

You know I can totally see Solaire becoming the Dark Soul waifu
If by some miracle they land in Jojo Bizzare Adventure Universe, he'd have the chance to meet the best waifu of all.

Robert E O Speedwagon

tenor.gif
 
Yet more moments between Lisa and Jaune. Lovin it. I'm actively shipping them now and no one will stop me. And maybe I'll throw in the Outsider too.

But yeah Jaune and multiverse harem is… well I guess it IS WC elements as per the tag. He truly will surpass that other guy.

Also Jaune actively living his dream of knights and slaying dragons. Didn't he always wanna be a knight in canon or something like it? Maybe it was just a hero. Still. He's fulfilling that knight image.

Enjoying all the hypotheses for DS waifu and can't wait till they find out more of the lore. Might really bake their noodles.

as for the Dunwall arc, loved everything about it. Can't remember the deets of what I was gonna review but yep.

*Just a few typos here and there regarding this previous chapt. Nothing major. IE:

…the road leading deeper into the fortress sat empty, and lend no hints of what lay ahead.
 
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I've got a couple of questions.
Is Solaris' Dark Soul capable of producing an aura? My gut says no, but I don't really have a solid argument against it besides "it's a dark soul."
 
I've got a couple of questions.
Is Solaris' Dark Soul capable of producing an aura? My gut says no, but I don't really have a solid argument against it besides "it's a dark soul."

All we know is that it feels like it shouldn't. If it does anyways? Why....

Ain't that a Miracle if I ever saw one? :V
 
The nicer (for me) explanation would be that souls work differently in different settings, sidestepping the meta-question why certain things are unique across different settings. Aka Why have only people from Rwby Aura if everyone everywhere can have it and other settings have incomparably better Soul-researchers. Seath given his achievements would definitely have found it.
Ultimately WC is "it just works" on such. But Jaune doesn't have that.
On the other claw he unlocked Tattletale's Aura and her setting has magic only in the sense of "it's totally science I swear". That might be an effect of the transition.
Either way should Solaire's Aura be unlocked things will likely get weird. Between the Dark Soul fragment, his (regular?) Soul, the Darksighn and the glamor all humans have from the gods to hide their origins it could go plenty of fun ways.
Edit. autocorrupt
 
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Usually my thought is that it's like different computer OS, except they're all Linux. So at their core, all universes are the same like Linux distros are, but some programs aren't out of the box compatible with another Linux OS. That means that the primary thing the Company does in this regard is basically have a Universal Linux Adaptor that picks up new OS, they figure it out, and then they can add that to the adaptor. Aura will work in any universe touched by them because that's part of what they do as part of preparing a universe for their interactions, but the program still needs to be imported.
 
I admit that I like stories which allow settings to be unique, rather than contriving some reason for all abilities to be cross-compatible with protagonists. Sure, in this case it is sort of inevitable due to the premise alone, but it is one of my pet peeves when it comes to aura, and why I'll probably shy away from including RWBY in any crossovers I might personally make.

But then again, I like protagonists earning their victories, so I am well aware I am in the minority of multicross audiences :p
 
The main reason I had doubts a dark soul could obtain aura is because it's described as the "light of the soul" and is present in all living things. Solair is undead and his soul is dark. After thinking about it if Jaune tried to manifest an undeads soul by giving them aura the funniest result would be turning them into a walking portal to they Abyss.
 
Just binged the Dishonoured arc, and I'm really enjoying this story.

Also appreciate that this is one of the few multicrosses with settings I know nothing about that I've been able to follow without having to wiki dive/find some lore guide to figure out what's going on.
 
After thinking about it if Jaune tried to manifest an undeads soul by giving them aura the funniest result would be turning them into a walking portal to they Abyss.
Oh hey, you struck on the same conclusion I first had.
Aura ritual draws the soul outward. The Darksign might be keeping the fragments of the Dark Soul contained. A bit of that getting out to run wild is how you get Abyss everywhere. So Jaune tries to pass Aura on to Solaire, and dies as he unknowingly kickstarts another Oolacile.
But that's way too dark for the story arc, and pretty much is a Bad End, so I'm going with a different interpretation.

Just binged the Dishonoured arc, and I'm really enjoying this story.

Also appreciate that this is one of the few multicrosses with settings I know nothing about that I've been able to follow without having to wiki dive/find some lore guide to figure out what's going on.
Happy you liked it. And that you enjoyed this type of story, because writing a protagonist that's more clueless than us is a lot less stressful than writing a genius who knows all the tiny details about a franchise.
 
Chapter 16: The Ups and Downs of a Lordran Adventure
The sword stabbed through the Hollow's chest. Jaune left it there to step past the falling body, and kicked its ally, a strong blow to send the zombie soldier into the air. Solaire was there in the next moment to cleave the body in two.

Jaune pulled on the sword, extracting it as he continued striding forward without missing a beat. Two more Hollows have set upon Solaire, staved off by his shield. One swing of Crocea Mors took care of that problem before the other man could counterattack, and ended the altercation.

Not even ten seconds had passed since the start of the encounter.

"What strength!" Solaire praised as he clapped Jaune on the shoulder. "You have the making of a fine knight, my friend…if a tad reckless. Take care that you do not become an Undead like me. Hah hah hah!"

Jaune gave a rueful smile. "You're quite strong yourself." Stronger than should be possible, and he chalked it down as something to do with the Undead condition. "And my bad. They were just so…"

Easy.

It sounded arrogant, but the zombies—not the Undead, but the Hollows—really were too simple a foe, and to take them with a sense of seriousness seemed a needless effort to him. It's no wonder those movies always featured plucky civilian teens instead of Huntsmen and Huntresses. There would not be a story otherwise.

"No need to say it. I understand well the feeling. Take heed, I urge you. Lordran is home to a multitude of beings both small and great. The Black Knights, for instance, count among the latter."

The pair stopped at a door for Solaire to look inside. A quick glance, and the man shook his head. There was no sun to find here. They went to the next building while continuing the conversation.

"That name sure sounds ominous. Who are they?"

"Elite knights, chosen personally by Lord Gwyn to serve him in war. Those poor fellows may have been scorched by the fires of the First Kiln, but they still retain their prowess in life. Should we meet one such, I hesitate to say whether we shall prevail."

"Wow. You're saying that? These guys must be tough."

The knight was no slouch, Jaune had concluded from their brief partnership. During previous skirmishes, his techniques displayed a brutal simplicity, one worthy of envy.

How to better put it? Take the aforementioned fights. Jaune can be considered efficient in that he just strolled into the enemy ranks, smacking his sword about and ending up on the other side victorious. An enhanced physique granted him an overwhelming advantage, and Aura protected him from the occasional dings, opening him up to options that would let him neutralize a threat faster (i.e. tanking a hit to gut his enemy). Solaire, in contrast, employed efficiency in terms of deliberateness. His footwork was minimized, attacks tight and controlled. He moved in the path he intended, and emerged beside Jaune a mere few beats later while bearing little to no wounds.

With skill alone the other man closed the gap against Aura. Put aside the advantages of an awakened soul, and he'd likely trounce Jaune ten out of ten times in a spar. Which rather begged the question: How would Solaire fare if he received Aura?

Also, should he get Aura? Jaune had not forgotten Corvo Attano's warning. To awaken willy-nilly people's souls carried consequences that may spiral beyond his control. Trust mattered.

Solaire shut another door behind himself. "Many regard them the toughest among humanity barring champions the likes of Pharis or Black Iron Tarkus. In the event that we face a Black Knight," the great helm tilted in what Jaune had come to know as Solaire's equivalent of a wink for when his face was obscured, "do allow me to stand at the front."

The needle was leaning hard towards a 'yes' on unlocking that Aura. Jaune did not think he would regret it. Sure, the guy apparently can't die even when killed, being Undead—there's some kind of nine-lives situation, sort of like a cat? Only a lot higher of a number? The explanation was hard to believe—but the willingness to spend even one of those lives for someone else spoke volumes of his character.

The clanking of armor alerted them to a group of Hollows approaching, drawn by the noise they were making. The two groups locked eyes, and the battle began anew.

"Any advice for how I should be fighting?" Jaune asked as they advanced.

"Hmmm. Were I to note one thing, then I would say you are neglecting the possibilities granted by your shield."

A zombie wielding an axe raced ahead of its brethren. Arriving in striking range, it reared back for a swing. Solaire met it by raising his shield. The axe chopped downward, and with a shift of his arm the knight caught the weapon on an angle, causing its heavy blade to skid off.

"Blocking is but one option. To turn the attack aside is often the better answer. It diminishes the force of the blow, you see, and in one fell swoop we seize control of the encounter." Solaire swung his shield arm, slapping away a second slash before the Hollow could build momentum in its attack. The action left the thing completely unguarded for him to run it through. "Then, there is the parry. A well-timed one wards off harm to ourselves and opens our foe to a riposte. A shield provides opportunity."

Was the idea revolutionary? No. Jaune had learned of parrying from Pyrrha, and understood the necessary motions. He hadn't received a live combat demonstration on the merits of it, nor the philosophy behind the act. His Beacon partner taught him the what but not the why. Perhaps she assumed that he already understood something so basic; he certainly gave the impression, never realizing there were finer points that he should have asked her to clarify on. The technique made sense in hindsight.

The remaining Hollows reached the pair, and Jaune used them for practice. His habit of hunkering behind the shield whenever he saw an incoming attack worked against him here, requiring that he fight past the impulse more times than he cared to mention. Observing Solaire in the periphery spurred him on to keep at it. Where Jaune's progress flowed in a series of starts and stops in response to the Hollows bashing on his shield, the other man retained fluidity of motion from start to finish, allowing him to finish off his opponents long before Jaune concluded things on his end.

As they reconvened, Jaune said, "You know, you might be right. That fight wore less on me than the previous one." His admission got a good-natured laugh from Solaire. "Anyway, is that the last of them?"

"I dare say it is. The world has grown quiet."

"Nice. In that case…" He looked back the way they came. "Tattletale, the coast is clear!"

Far down the street, a blonde head popped out around the corner. The rest of the girl appeared in view as she jogged to them. Her eyes flicked along the ground, going from slain body to slain body, but this time—despite a flash of ill unease—she made a visible, if poor, effort to ignore them, traveling in a straight line instead of shying from the blood and viscera. Then, she made an effort to ignore him, her power noticing that he had noticed the strange behavior, and that he now noticed that she noticed, which since she noticed thereby necessitated she play it off to avoid his notice, which only led to him noticing the oddness all the more, meaning that—

She resolved the conundrum by walking behind him, and when he spun towards her she sidled out of sight to escape his scrutiny again. How mature of her.

"Tattletale, what are you doing?"

"Why are we wasting time? Go look for the sun or whatever already!"

He and Solaire shared a glance, and they both shrugged. Obvious attempt to force a subject change was obvious. They weren't likely to receive an answer, though, and she had a point. This was a big place to comb over. They best get a move on.

Built into and around the wall, the district that they were passing through was designed to house a military force, long defunct. Storage rooms, barracks, cellars, guard posts. They lay abandoned, filled with dust and decay.

Solaire searched them with a careful eye, heading up to the highest watchtower and down to the deepest basement in the hope of finding his sun. His process…didn't seem to follow any sort of reason. Jaune followed along, watching as the man would sometimes walk into a room and walk out in the span of five seconds, but then spend half an hour checking every cabinet and crevice in a different room.

Jaune focused his own exploration on items of value. He was met with a whole lot of disappointment there.

The area stocked weapons and armors aplenty, all of low quality. How low? Let's put it this way: Jaune was convinced the higher-ups intended the soldiers assigned here to serve as a warning system, in that their dying screams would alert everyone else of danger, and armed them accordingly.

As for the mundane goods, age had rendered them of little use. Rotten food. Moth-eaten clothes. Even the bed in the barracks was not worth taking, meaning he'd continue sleeping on a blanket spread on the floor of the apartment for the foreseeable future.

Swinging off the last cot in the room, Jaune grumbled, "This one's no good either."

"I told you!" Tattletale snarked. "If you want the good stuff, we need to loot a bigshot's house. A noble—Ooh! Or a king!"

"Yeeeah, I'm just going to hope we hit a modern universe next. It's so much easier when there's a store for everything."

The cellar door slammed open to interrupt their riveting discussion. Out of it strode Solaire, sword in hand, breathing heavily. He was covered in blood.

"Rats," he explained to them.

An hour earlier, Jaune would have scoffed at the notion of rats posing a danger. That was before seeing one in person. Something must be in the water around these parts, because those 'pests' went up to his knees. At a start.

"Are you injured?" he asked.

"Thank you for your concern, but never fear, for this blood is not mine. Alas," Solaire clasped his hands over his heart, "my sun is also not mine." A laugh. "I suppose we shall press on!"

"Sounds good to me. Maybe we'll have better luck upstairs."

At a glance, the second floor held promise. The decor of paintings and carpets indicated that people of greater import might have occupied this level of the barracks. Officers and the like, Tattletale helpfully provided as if it were a startling revelation.

"Grrr."

"What?" Jaune said. "I'm not wrong. Who else would be living here? It's obvious, no superpowers needed."

To emphasize the point, he swept an arm across the room. Oh, the valuables have long since been looted to leave a bare-bone space littered with rubbish but the quality furniture, the bookshelves, and the empty jewelry boxes spoke of the outpost commander's well-to-do life. His body lying on the bed with a sword in his gut, a sword of similar manufacture to the ones in the armory downstairs, suggested his subordinates were quite jealous of his wealth.

It was such a nice bed, too…

"His soldiers didn't do it. See how the body is splayed? He was resting, and died without fighting back. Poison, likely. The sword's a red herring to draw attention away from the real cause. An assassin did this, or a spurned lover."

"I don't know, that seems a stretch."

Tattletale flapped her mouth wordlessly, shocked and offended. Finding her voice, she retorted, "Like hell it is!"

"Well, what if the killer brought help? His buddies held the arms and legs—"

"Wrong. Totally wrong. Even if he was restrained, he still would have struggled, and the wound would look a lot messier. The bloodstain is also too small. The body had gone cold hours beforehand. It's obvious."

Jaune glanced back at the body. Lacking her ability, he saw none of the things Tattletale claimed.

"...I'll take your word for it."

She grinned. "Yeah, you had better."

A lull fell over the pair, the conversation topic exhausted. Jaune scanned the empty quarters of the commander. The inspection yet again failed to uncover treasure, and he decided to ask the question on his mind.

"Do you think you can turn that superpower to finding us some loot?"

Because while interesting, the detective show was none too useful—

Tattletale winced, her grin gone.

—and he'd prefer an actual payoff for the last few hours.

"I would have if there was anything here, it's not my fault this place is empty!"

"On the contrary…" Solaire, heretofore spending his time tapping on the wall for unknown reasons, interjected. "I am sure…perhaps here…ah hah!"

Jaune rubbed his eyes. At his side, Tattletale stared blankly, her mind having short-circuited. Between the bed and a dresser, where there had once been solid stone blocks, now sat an entrance to another room, one filled with odds and ends.

"Bwuh!? But how—that couldn't—there was a wall there!" spluttered Tattletale in confusion.

Solaire crossed his arms, nodding in sympathy. "Do not blame yourself. For centuries, illusion sorceries have befuddled the senses of gods and humanity."

"Fucking sorcery!" Tattletale spat, raging. She spun towards Jaune. "I would have figured it out eventually."

He snickered. "Sure you would."

"I would!" she insisted, before gasping. "The floor plan! The size of the second floor didn't match the first, and the wall in the adjacent room is spaced out too far from this one, and…and…"

Jaune's smile faded. Her bewilderment amused him at first, but he was starting to get the sense that she may be, in fact, taking it very badly. He put a hand on her shoulder, stopping the spiel of deductions.

"Look, don't worry, I get it. I believe you."

"You don't!" she snapped back.

Ouch. He kept forgetting that lying didn't work well against this girl when [Blank] was shut off.

"I'm serious. Don't mind it. Solaire found the illusion anyway, so it's fine." Though he said that, from her expression it was not fine. "Hell, a treasure chest is lying on the ground right over there, isn't that great? We're in business."

In truth, it appeared the only object of note here. The papers and reports on the nearby desk no doubt contained critical information back in the days, and were as important as toilet paper now. The stash of wine bottles on a shelf bore an odd color that Jaune was leery of. Aside from those, the room saw use as a repository of broken junk. The commander had been the type to shove his trash in a corner to make space and forget about them.

But the chest, oh, the chest beckoned to Jaune with its promise. Crafted of smooth, polished wood, it occupied pride of place at the center of the hidden room, untouched by the ravages of time. He put it down to magic to have a hand in the fine condition of the chest, and if that was so, then who's to say that the contents did not enjoy the same benefit.

Solaire, at least, seemed to agree with the sentiment, lending the chest his full attention. Slowly, he moved towards it, one hand fishing in the pouches at his belt for something.

"Wait a minute." Tattletale tilted her head, puzzled. She peered closer, observing the chest for a while. Abruptly, her eyes widened, and she piped up, "That's not a chest! It's breathing! Look at the floor, there's traces of a struggle!"

Solaire grew still. Silence befell the room.

"Oh, dear," the knight whispered. "Why must you tell it?"

No sooner had he spoken, the chest launched itself at the group. A body sprouted under the container, a lean torso on two long legs. Up top, the lid swung open to reveal rows of sharp teeth, two arms springing forth from around a giant, drooling tongue to grasp for a target.

Jaune had worked his way up to that point, the visuals. He was experiencing a bit of trouble with what to do about it; life has failed to adequately prepare him for an ambush from living pieces of furniture. Tattletale was likewise frozen, having undergone a mental crash again.

Solaire was the one to act, intercepting the lunge with his shield raised high. His posture suffered for the hasty maneuver, though, and he was taken off his feet by the sheer weight of the monster, slamming into Jaune and Tattletale to knock the party back out to the main quarters in a mess of tangled limbs.

The living chest thrashed about in a frenzy, its maw trying to snap on the closest person and nearly catching Jaune with a swipe as he scrambled to his feet. He pulled Tattletale away before the thing could grab her, shoving the girl out of its reach toward the exit.

"Down! Go down and get out of the building!"

She hesitated for a second, scared expression giving way to regret and self-recrimination. Then, heeding his command, she vanished around the corner. After confirming her safety, Jaune spun to face the danger, Crocea Mors at the ready.

The monster had Solaire lifted in the air, and was currently feeding him headfirst into its mouth.

"Oh, crap! Solaire!"

He rushed forward, sword slashing. The blade bit deep into flesh, and while the monster released Solaire with a shriek of pain, to his consternation it failed to cleave straight through the arm. The spindly frame and awkward limbs granted the monster an illusion of weakness, and belied a body that was all corded muscle, tough to a degree Jaune would call supernatural.

The chest looked(?) down at its arm to the bleeding gash there, then looked(?) up at Jaune. He got the feeling that, despite the complete lack of eyeballs, the thing was sending him a baleful glare full of hatred.

"I have a sword and I'm not afraid to use it."

"Ssaaaaaaa!"

He did not speak furniture, but the translation probably went something like this: I have a mouth full of fangs and I am eager to use them.

"Glad we reached an understanding. Rahhhh!" He charged the monster.

"Ssaaaa!" It responded in kind.

The creature batted his sword aside. He bashed it in the chin with the shield, the treasure chest head snapping back from the force of the blow. It rode the momentum, leg swinging up to kick him into the ceiling, the wood cracking from the impact. He fell down towards a waiting maw. Solaire tackled it out of the way, and Jaune landed on the floor without meeting harm. Once he climbed upright, the other man was locked in combat with the monster; even with two cuts on the torso and one more on the thigh, it was barely slowing.

"Jaune, I dropped my Lloyd talisman!" Solaire shouted over his shoulder. "It is the surest method—" He ducked under a fist. "—to defeat a mimic!"

"I'll look for it!" yelled Jaune.

He dropped to his hands and knees, padding along the floor as he sought the Lloyd talisman.

Wait. Hang on.

"I have no idea what that is! Solaire, you look for it, and I'll keep the chest busy!"

The knight disengaged from the mimic and Jaune switched in, unleashing a series of wild swings to force the monster to evade. The huge head and elongated limbs worked oddly well together, changing directions and bending around the sword in ways that defied common sense.

Seizing an opening, it clocked him in the face. Aura prevented actual damage, and he shook off the pain to put up his shield in answer. It grabbed the top edge with the other arm to pull the shield down, then punched him again. The fist winded back, and as it launched, Jaune returned the shield to sheath form, his sword stabbing through the space that the shield used to occupy. The blade buried itself a few inches into the belly of the mimic. A roar of pain shook the room.

The mimic stumbled back, letting go of the sheath which Jaune redeployed to shield form. Rushing after the monster, he pressed the opportunity with a slash of his sword. A bare-handed block robbed the mimic all five fingers on the right side.

"Ha! How'd you like me now?" he mocked.

The giant tongue slapped him on the cheek so hard it spun him to face the opposite direction.

"Owwww," he moaned, holding his face. "Owwww. Does this count as a kiss? Did I get kissed by a treasure chest?"

There was no answer—maybe the mimic was too shy to admit it—but movement on the other side of the room drew his notice, and he spotted Solaire pulling an object from under the bed. The man held it aloft in triumph before tossing the silvery medallion past Jaune. He turned to watch what it did.

The talisman hit the floor, breaking into pieces and releasing the smoke held within. The effect was instantaneous, albeit likely not what Solaire desired. With a howl of panic, the mimic scurried to the side in order to avoid the smoke cloud, jumping up near the ceiling and splaying out its arms and legs to hold itself in the corner.

Hearing Solaire give a sheepish laugh, Jaune asked, "What was supposed to happen?"

"The fumes contained inside a talisman of Lloyd bears a most curious effect on the mimic clan, inducing a somnolescent daze," commented the knight, observing the mimic with a careful eye. "Of course, that only takes effect when it inhales the substance. If otherwise…"

"I don't think I like where this is going."

"...the creature may become enraged at the attempt, believing that we mean to abscond with its treasure while it slumbers. What a misunderstanding. Hah hah hah."

Jaune chuckled, weakly. "Thought so."

The cloud thinned out, and was soon dispelled altogether, leaving utter stillness in its wake. The onset of evening had cast the room into shadows, and from the darkest corner the mimic peered out at the pair of Jaune and Solaire with a malevolent gaze.

"Ssaaa…Ssaaa…Ssaaa…"

I'll kill you. I'll kill you. I'll kill you, was the impression Jaune received.

It let go, landing light on the balls of the feet. The slobbering tongue ran along the edges of the chest, licking its chops.

"Pheh. Quit posturing," Jaune ordered. "You don't scare us."

The mimic pressed its lid almost shut, leaving a thin line; the equivalent of eyes narrowing, Jaune realized. An expression of one who had been challenged. He pointed Crocea Mors at the monster.

"Hell, you're downright cute in comparison to some of the things I've faced. This sword has killed a drake. Can you claim the same?"

His words froze the creature where it stood. The mimic studied the weapon with a critical gaze. Drool started pouring over the lip of the chest. Waking from the stupor, it leveled a finger at the blade before pointing to itself.

"What? Give you my sword?" Fat chance of that.

The mimic curled the intact fingers into a strangling gesture. It exuded anticipation. Glee.

"Ahhh. You're taking Crocea Mors from my cold, dead body."

It nodded.

"Got it. Looks like we can't both walk away from this. You want to kill us for our stuff, we need to kill you to live, so let's drop the tricks and mind games, and just fight. May the best man— uh, person—warrior win."

"Ssaaa…" It took a step forward, then pushed off to rush at them. "SSAAAA!"

Jaune met the charge with his own. The mimic winded up for a punch. He brandished his sword. He gave a sharp thrust. It leapt over the blade.

Wut?

Tucked in a ball, the mimic soared, having canceled the fakeout punch in favor of the true attack, one utilizing its great weight. It launched both legs straight, catching Jaune in the chest. Five hundred pounds in motion crashed against a running human, and won. The dropkick blasted Jaune across the room. Glass shattered in a million fragments as he flew out the window.

Flipping end over end, he knew neither sky nor land, and [Third Arm] grabbed hold of empty air. Jaune slammed into pavement. Before he could do anything, Tattletale chose that moment to exit the barracks, tripping and falling on top of him.

Blue gazed into green.

"Hi."

"Hi…? Did you just drop from the second floor?"

"Ugh, yeah. That mimic's got moves. Guy could have been a champ."

"L-Look," Tattletale suddenly said, voice quavering. Jaune raised a brow at the odd tone. "I wasn't wrong about that thing. How would I know that it can hear us? A-And think about what might happen without my warning!" As he listened, Jaune gazed past her to the sky. His eyes bulged in shock. "You could have walked too close and been eaten! So…so…"

"Hold that thought."

Jaune wrapped his arms around Tattletale, and rolled the both of them out of the way. An instant later, the mimic struck the ground in a three-point landing, a fist leaving cracks in the stone right on the spot where their heads had been.

A beat, and the creature turned in their direction. The mimic slowly straightened to its full height, slender figure casting a long shadow over the road.

"Sssaaaaa?"

Hoh? You're still alive? it seemed to say. Gravel crunched as the mimic pivoted on its heels to fully face them. It began walking.

"Stay behind me?" Jaune said to Tattletale. They disentangled themselves, and hurried to get in formation.

He needn't have worried. The treasure chest only had eyes for him. Er, lid. Wood.

…He's going to just call it eyes, and stop thinking too hard about it.

As they prepared for contact, a shadow overlapped with that of the mimic. Jaune snapped his head upward, a motion copied by the monster. He did not regret it, but it certainly did. A plain, steel sword rammed through the roof of the chest.

A piercing screech rang out over the Undead Burg, pained and tortured and wrathful.

Jaune grinned, and would have cheered in victory. His euphoria died as the mimic refused to fall. The blade puncturing its head was stuck fast, and ichor flowed from the wound, but the attack had failed to put the thing down for good. It was yet alive. It was angry as hell. And, it had a target.

He came to a terrible realization. People with Aura can fall out of buildings fine. People without…they break. Paling, he sprinted at the creature, hoping to force it away from the knight who was rolling off his back nearby. One leg was clearly broken.

"Solaire! Why would you do something so reckless!?"

"Not to worry, I am—"

What he was about to say will forever remain unspoken, because Jaune was too late. The mimic lifted one foot high, and stomped down. With a sharp crack that sickened Jaune to hear, Solaire was driven into the stone pavement. The knight laid still.

Vengeance attained, the mimic fell to its knees, and punched a fist towards the sky.

It did not retaliate as Crocea Mors staked it, through the lips, through the tongue, impaling into the very depths of the chest.

The mimic gave a gurgling, choking noise. It reached out a hand, grasping for Jaune, who dodged from it. The stubborn thing held the hand in place, still reaching, until the effort became too great. It tipped over, crashing to the ground with a dull thud.

Jaune gazed down at the dying mimic, watching it take its last breaths.

"Ssaaa…"

Translation: You have bested me. Now my end draws near. Heh, it's funny. The sky is so bright, yet the world grows dark. Farewell to you, the better thief. know that…that…

Mimics never die.
These treasures mine, yours to claim.
The cycle lives on…

Probably. He's not really an expert on furniture language or anything.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

Tattletale's stricken sobs shattered the moment. Jaune whirled around to see her unbuckling Solaire's helm, the attempt hampered by her shaking hands. He skidded to their side in the next second, helping her. As he pulled the armor off, she jabbed the man in the neck with a stimpak, administering the healing cocktail.

No movement. She injected another. Then a third, to no effect. She was a wreck by the time she raised the fourth stimpak. Jaune grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"It's no use, Tattletale. He's gone."

Solaire was younger than Jaune expected, a clean-shaven man in his prime. In death, he still wore a smile. It suited the affable knight.

The stimpak Tattletale was holding slipped from her grip, and the girl cradled her head between her hands. Muttered curses, apologies, confessions, they poured from her lips in an unending stream.

Jaune stayed silent, struck dumb by the abruptness of it all. The minutes ran together. In his mind, he thought over everything that led to this moment.

What if they hadn't set off the mimic? What if he had succeeded in killing it sooner? Or treated the fight more seriously, retaining the awareness that he fought alongside an Auraless person?

Why hadn't he awakened Solaire's Aura? In hindsight, the man had earned their trust ten times over. Why did the knight jump out that window? He had to know how dangerous it was.

He wanted to scream at Tattletale. At himself.

Solaire…

"He washe was such a good guy," Jaune murmured. "A real hero. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"Oh, that is quite alright, Jaune."

"AHHHH!"

"AHHHH!"

Jaune and Tattletale screamed bloody murder, hugging each other in terror as a dead man loomed above them.

"A ghost!"

"I'm sorry!"

Solaire threw back his head, and laughed. The man stood upright, with nary a scratch on him.

"Hah hah hah! Did you forget, perchance? Like most those who come to Lordran, I am one of the Undead."

Jaune twisted to look at where the body of Solaire formerly laid. At some unknown point in the last hour, it had disappeared without a trace. Then, that meant the Solaire here could be the original, and no illusion.

"S-So, you're alive?"

"Of course not. I am Undead. Hah hah hah!"

This bastard.

"Solaire."

"What is it, my friend?"

"I'm unlocking your Aura. No arguments."

-o-​

An hour later, resting around a bonfire, Jaune reiterated his stance.

"I said no arguments!"

"And not one of us here gainsay you."

They sure were thinking it, though. That was a dozen tries with nothing to show for it. What was going on?

The process started well enough. Normal. His chant was on point. The Aura flowed smoothly.

Except, the instant it pushed from his hand and passed over to Solaire, he received a sensation as if the Aura that should awaken the soul was instead vanishing. Consumed by something, becoming other and no longer under his control. Deeming it a matter of quantity, he added more Aura, to the same result. The motes were falling into a bottomless pool, mere drips touching on something vast and hungry.

"Again."

"I wish you luck."

"Again."

"Take heart, perhaps this time it will succeed."

"Aga—Oh, forget it. This isn't working." Jaune wiped the sweat from his brow, and dropped to sit on the pile of sheets that were his sleeping arrangement for the night; they had appropriated supplies from the barracks for their camp. "I'm sorry, Solaire."

"Hah hah hah. Do not fret. I am of a hardy constitution in my own way."

"I wouldn't call dying over and over a good thing."

Solaire finished stoking the flames, and scooted back to his bedroll.

"The Undead Curse is no curse to me. Without it, I could never have made it this far."

This guy was too blasé about being an abomination of nature. If asked, Jaune would opine that the prospect of turning Undead carried with it existential questions not easily brushed off. There's no convincing the man of that, though. Life as an Undead allowed him to quest for his sun, and to Solaire, that one merit quashed all other considerations.

"Is there no downside?"

The smile Solaire wore somewhat faded. He rubbed his head, pondering the question.

"Not to me," he said in the end.

"But there are?"

The knight dropped his gaze to the bonfire, hesitating. He did not like this line of question. Before Jaune could pivot to a lighter subject, Solaire heaved a great sigh.

"In the fading of the First Flames, the curse arose. It does not allow us to pass on, and should we perish, from the bonfires we rise again. In exchange, food ceased to sate our hunger. Wine loses its taste. Life, its luster."

"That sounds…" Unfulfilling. Empty.

"You need not say it. All Undead knows. Everything fades." Solaire looked up to meet Jaune's eyes. His voice grew somber, grave. "Even memory. A warning to you. Should I cease to recognize you and Tattletale, and behave as if you are my enemy…do not hesitate to end my life, as many times as need be until I am one of those unfortunate fellows. Otherwise, I fear I might pose a danger to you, my friend."

Jaune gulped.

The conversation soon fell off, leaving each to their thoughts. In time, they each retired for the night. Sleep, at least, still belonged to the Undead, and soft snores rose from the other side of the fire.

Jaune tossed and turned for a while longer, pondering the notion of living forever. Unlike most, he would not have to accept a curse or, say, the bite of a vampire to achieve it, merely the press of a button. The Company put it on sale for an appropriate price. As in, outrageously exorbitant. Yet, both he and Tattletale had seen the offer, and none-too-secretly marked it down in their respective notes.

Up until now, he hadn't considered that immortality might not always be a boon. Who knew.

Did Tattletale?

He looked to where she had settled, a short distance apart from the fire and the group. Tattletale sat framed against the night sky, idly stroking the ring resting in her palm. It was their prize purloined from the mimic treasure chest.

The ring dampened sounds made by the movement of its wearer, their footsteps and the rustling of clothes. For the one who needed to avoid notice when a fight breaks out, passing it to her seemed a no-brainer, was his thinking.

She didn't look at all happy with it in her hand, and has yet to ever put it on.


Author's Notes: Really thought this arc would fit into two chapters. Ah well, one more next week to round it out.

.

I buffed that mimic to hell and back. You know, to capture the feeling of terror from one's first Dark Souls mimic fight.

.

Nothing so sweet as an unearned reward.
Or was it bitter?
 
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You know… the more and more I read this the more disturbed I become about the whole waifu catalog bs. That's not to say I wasn't already, god knows I was already disgusted by that thing whose name I already forgot, but that this 'fandom' exists is just… disturbing and disheartening.
 
"Any advice for how I should be fighting?" Jaune asked as they advanced.

"Hmmm. Were I to note one thing, then I would say you are neglecting the possibilities granted by your shield."
Ha! RWBY fights run almost entirely on Rule of Cool so I tend to turn off my brain when they happen and enjoy the soundtrack but I've read this many times from people who do try to analyse characters' fightstyles that Jaune barely uses his shield.
Tattletale sat framed against the night sky, idly stroking the ring resting in her palm. It was their prize purloined from the mimic treasure chest.
"My preciousssss!"
For the one who needed to avoid notice when a fight breaks out, passing it to her seemed a no-brainer, was his thinking.

She didn't look at all happy with it in her hand, and has yet to ever put it on.
Clearly she's disappointed you didn't put a ring on her instead of just giving it out ;)

That mimic was really badass and Jaune keeps unwittingly tap dancing all over Tattletale's triggers.
 
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You know… the more and more I read this the more disturbed I become about the whole waifu catalog bs. That's not to say I wasn't already, god knows I was already disgusted by that thing whose name I already forgot, but that this 'fandom' exists is just… disturbing and disheartening.
If you don't like something, why read it? Also, you should see some of the dark and kinky romance shit that is targeted at the female audience. The mind control / property aspect of Waifu catalog is tame by comparison.
 
If you don't like something, why read it? Also, you should see some of the dark and kinky romance shit that is targeted at the female audience. The mind control / property aspect of Waifu catalog is tame by comparison.

I'm not talking about this story I'm talking out it's inspiration
 
Tattletale doesn't have good time at all. Poor girl is out of her element. Their team desperately need another member who could keep her company while Jaune fulfilling his hero fantasy. Or those two need to talk more because he doesn't understand how much she mentally struggles there.

Also, epic showdown against mimc is not something I expected but I welcome it.
 
Called it! Sort of. Unreasonably cool and expressive mimic counts, even if it didn't join the party.
 

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