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Because something weird is going on. With you, Winter, Cassian, Spock, my Father.. none of your memories are consistent with each other, but mine match Sun's.
[ She has to believe in that. She finally goes to sit down at the table across from Jaune though, her eyes carefully examining his new markings. ]
You like sweet things still, don't you? Order a mocha. Peppermint, if you're in the holiday mood.
[He's accustomed to it now. People fear him when they see him. He usually just goes with it. No one but him and a few others know the story behind them, and he's fine with that. Fear is better than pity.]
[His eyes brighten. He does like sweets! But--] How did you know that?
My fiance. He's the only blonde monkey faunus around, runs the bounty boards and a few businesses in Fayren? Ring any bells?
[ This and the sweets means this version and her are clearly.. not friends. ]
Because in my memories, you and I are good friends. You like sweets, and junk food, and are particularly fond of whatever part of the chicken "nuggets" are made of. You love bunnies and dinosaurs and games and comics. You're strong, and brave, and put others ahead of yourself even if you don't always have the right answers or you make mistakes on your way to the right path. The you I know is also... hurt. I don't blame you, and even if you're doing better, I can still see it. You have a different look in your eyes now, though.
[ Weiss doesn't look scared of the markings. Once she's gotten a good look at them, along with her words her gaze is focused on his. If anything she looks more like she's trying to figure him out than anything else. This Jaune definitely isn't her Jaune, even if it's still.. well, Jaune. ]
Wait. Was he that one guy with the annoyingly chiseled abs at the Vytal festival? Hey, aren't you supposed to be a racist spoiled girl?
[He's quiet, looking like he's trying very hard to keep a stoic face and failing. He grits his teeth a little, some things right on the mark and others...something he remembers enjoying. Dinosaurs are cool. He remembers the book about bunnies his mom would read to him sometimes. But that's in the past. He's no longer that person. And he's certainly not brave, or someone who would ever put others first. But this person who he only knows from her fame, who he's never thought much of other than another eventual target in the downfall of Remnant, says it with so much conviction.
It leaves him unsettled.]
Who told you to say that? [He narrows his eyes, trying not to look vulnerable. But this is the first time in a while he's truly been caught off guard, and he doesn't like it. One hand goes to rest against his cheek--the side with the scars, unsurprisingly.]
Former heiress who ran away from home after my father tried to tell the world I had a mental breakdown and disinherited me when I called him and his fellow socialites on his hypocrisy. I'm not my father. But yes, Sun does have annoyingly chiseled abs.
[ At least they were both at the Vytal Festival. That's weird. If he was there, but they didn't know each other.. She keeps it in mind to ask if she gets the chance later in the conversation. ]
I did. We're having a conversation. You asked how I knew what you liked, you dolt.
Is that your way of trying to impress me, Snow Angel? ...Yeah he does. It's like, the world is already an unforgiving and cruel place. Why rub it in our faces by giving us that?
[Go for it ask him.
Before he can argue though, he just stares at her incredulously. He had murdered countless people, nearly died multiple times, and faced the terrors that were Salem's realm on a daily basis. Did she just]
You took care of yourself and left a situation that didn't sit right with you. I can certainly respect that, but it doesn't change the fact that most of the world is made up of cowards who prey on the weak.
[When the server asks what they want, Jaune mumbles his order "Large peppermint mocha". He almost seems to be sulking.]
You know. That's kind of rude. You don't know me. You don't know my life. I'm actually pretty smart, thank you very little.
There are a lot of people like that- people who take advantage of others, people who close their eyes to the suffering around them, who blame the victims for their actions because they're scared that their world could fall apart too- completely out of their control. Knowing that, how could I not stand up to defy them? If I'm capable of more, why wouldn't I take the first step and be the person they can't be? If I don't fall, if I'm more than what people say I am, why can't someone else who's scared think "me too"? I can't change everyone, but I can choose to fight for what's right when no one else will.
[ She's not sure what kind of person this Jaune is. Her Jaune.. she's not even sure what he would say to something like that. She knows he wanted to be a hero, that he wants to protect his friends more than anything. But she doesn't know if he thinks the rest of the world is worth protecting, but he's never called the rest of the world cowards before. ]
I've been called a lot worse than rude. [ She looks at the server. ] I'll have an Americano, thank you.
Sure, you could do that. If you're okay with the people you're trying to protect betraying you later-- or letting them down. [He pauses, then shakes his head.] Most people aren't worth protecting.
I'm sure you have. Doesn't change that it's rude. [Huffs.] The fuck is an Americano? [This Jaune is fine with cursing!]
I'm grew up as a member of the Schnee family. People trying to use me, go behind my back... that was growing up for me. It takes a lot more work to trust someone than it does to isolate yourself, and it's terrifying to trust people knowing they could do that. But not everyone is and ending up alone and miserable because you're scared to let anyone else get close because they might disappoint you? That's far worse than not getting hurt. As for whether or not people are worth it? I don't know everyone's stories. I don't know their pain, but I do know that everyone has their own measure of it. It's not my place to judge whether or not someone is worth protecting.
I'm rude and you said something doltish, so I called you on it. I can live with that. [ Weiss is gonna Weiss whether Jaune is gonna Jaune or not. ] It's espresso diluted in water so it's similar to regular coffee, though it has a slightly stronger flavor and they can't get away with letting it sit in carafes all day.
But for as long as we don't, we can keep a lot of those "regular people" safe for much longer than they would otherwise. [ But that raises an odd question for her. She can already tell this is a very cynical version of her friend, but that particular criticism of hunters.. ] You're not a huntsman, are you? [ A thought that makes the Dust carved into his skin even more curious. ]
[ she shrugs. ] So you and I still have very different tastes.
[His hands grip onto the side of the table. If it weren't for the gloves, his knuckles would be white.] Because you've done a fantastic job of that so far. [He means huntresses and huntsman in general. But the moment is gone, and he smirks at her.] Nope. I'm the one you should be fearing. [Hell yeah that was a good line 10 out of 10 suck on that Cinder and Tyrian and Watts but not Hazel he's chill. He's so proud of himself.]
[ Her eyes turn to his fingers for a moment when she hears the table jiggle just slightly. There's a clear answer to what he means by someone she should fear, but Weiss's fears didn't lie in the threat of battle. That isn't to say that she isn't tense right now, or that she doesn't recognize the danger of what that means. But she isn't the type to give into fear, even if there's a very healthy tenseness to her gait now. ]
Why should a lack of perfection mean everyone should suffer for the actions of a few people you've decided don't deserve protection? All you do is create more of what you hated in the first place if you are who I think you are.
[ As their drinks are brought over, Weiss takes her and slowly takes a sip before looking Jaune in the eyes. ]
You called me to a coffee shop to convince me I should be scared of you, but my fingers aren't those clinging to the table.
[Ouch. That hits a nerve. Before Jaune can take a mental step back and breathe, he's already reacting. His eyes seem to flare up and he hisses.] I'm nothing like the corrupt and cowardly humans who claim to protect people and make this world better while they hide in the safety of their homes!
[It came out louder than he intended. The server tries not to stare and Jaune looks to the side, only realizing that he's clung onto the table when Weiss mentions it. He tears his hands away, covering his reaction with a scoff.]
Not everyone is capable of protecting others, Jaune.
[ Weiss gives an apologetic glance to the server. She was going to have to leave him one hell of a tip for this. Weiss wouldn't blame him for not checking up on them again. ]
I'm not sheltered anymore. But I won't become a monster to protect the people I want to save from them.
[His drink is delicious goddamn. He takes a sip. Then a longer sip. Then he's just sipping constantly until he glances at Weiss and puts it down.]
Once upon a time, there was a very selfish bunny who lived in the forest with his parents and his sisters. The bunny and his family lived a sheltered but simple life. They never had to worry about predators, and they always had enough food for their big family. Because the mom and dad bunnies only had one son, and because his sisters were so excitable, everyone thought the boy bunny was special.
[He starts toying with the stirrer left in his drink.]
So they doted on their son, protecting him, but like I said before, the bunny was very selfish. He had heard too many stories of heroes and good beating evil from his parents, and he wanted to be a hero too. That only made his family laugh at him, which made the bunny take even more dangerous and childish risks. But his family still laughed at him.
The bunny became more sullen. But one thing he always enjoyed were the camping trips his family went on. In fact, that was his favorite pastime. [There's some warmth in his voice, and then it's gone.] One day while the family was hiking to one of their favorite camping spots, bunny-sized tents and bags full of food and pancake mix distributed among each family member, they came to the usual fork in the path when the selfish bunny asked if they could camp down the other trail. They never had before, and he didn't understand why. The mom and dad bunny tried to convince their son that it was selfish, but the son argued and begged, and pretty soon his sisters joined him and their parents were overpowered. They agreed to it, because even if they knew the other spot was safer, their son had been in a bad mood and they wanted him to be happy. They got to the camping spot, which was next to a nice pond and near some trees. There were no dangerous predators or grimm, and after setting up a night full of laughter, they fell asleep.
That's when the nightmare started. The selfish bunny woke up to screaming. Sprinting out of his tent, he would see something that would change his life forever. Three of his sisters had been slaughtered, his mom and dad doing their best to fight off the bandit wolves who had found them. The bunny was terrified. How had this happened? Why weren't there any huntsmen around to save his family? He was filled with hatred-- hatred toward himself, for selfishly begging to camp somewhere different and unknown, hatred towards the ones who murdered the defenseless and weak, and hatred towards the false heroes who talked big but weren't around when they were needed. The bunny acted the only way he knew: he grabbed his now dead father's sword and shield, too heavy for him, ignoring his mom's screams until she blocked a hit for him and her corpse landed on him. Then he got up to fight and buy his sisters time. [His voice catches a little, despite years of practice.] It didn't work. He thought he was going to die. And he probably would have. Help wouldn't come.
Then it did. Not thanks to any huntress or huntsman, but thanks to someone far stronger. Someone who knew how the world truly worked, and someone whose kindness wasn't the selfish kind the bunny thought was the right way. But he worked for some scary people...not that the bunny cared that much, this person, this warrior was a true hero. And he would follow in his footsteps, even if that meant that he'd become a monster in the eyes of the selfish and still sheltered people who claimed they were protecting this worthless world.
[ Weiss listens carefully, quiet. It's not exactly hard to figure out that Jaune is the selfish bunny. This wasn't a story about a lupine, it was a story about this version of Jaune. It was an origin story. It was filled with pain, and anger, and she could see why he didn't believe in the system. ]
I'm sorry that that happened to the rabbit. I'm sorry that there was no one there to help. I'm especially sorry the rabbit decided that his way to repent for his selfish decision was to put others in dangerous situations in anger instead of trying to do something to change things so that more bunnies have a chance not to share that pain. No one thinks that we're going to be able to save anyone, Jaune. It's not "sheltered" to try to fight instead of making things worse, so even if I am sorry for what happened to you and I can't imagine what you went through, it doesn't excuse forcing others to go through it too. You're not a monster, but you are still that selfish child putting your feelings over others' because you can't have your way.
[ She hasn't put her hand on Myrtenaster yet, but she's very much ready to go for it if he doesn't take that well. ]
[He keeps himself guarded, not reacting until her apologies (always empty, always too late and meaningless) take a 180 that calls him out. Mismatched eyes seem to burn with anger and frustration, red-rimmed like he wants to cry but he can't. The thin line of his mouth tugs into an empty, bitter smile, all of the resentment and hatred directed not at the person sitting parallel to him, his enemy, but himself.]
I just revealed my soul to you, and you're going to call me a brat. I mean you're not wrong but that's kinda uncalled for.
[He takes a long sip of his drink.]
But I've survived, haven't I? So being good really doesn't matter. [He taps his fingers on the table nervously.] Will you buy me another coffee?
You just told someone who's a complete stranger to you your tragic backstory. You thought you'd shake my beliefs and I'd admit I was wrong. I've lost people too. The people you work for killed my friend. The people you work with have been hunting my family since I was a child. I'm sorry for your family, but I don't feel sorry for you. If anything all you've done is prove that more people need to make the decision to protect instead of destroy. Otherwise all we'll have is loss.
[ She sighs and folds her hands on the table, looking at him dead on. ]
If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that as a survivor, you can live with what you've done without guilt, I'll buy both of your coffees.
[Jaune's quiet, gritting his teeth and seething in his own anger. Every word digs into him like a nail, until he finally snaps and stands up, his voice cracking.]
You want to talk about guilt?! [There's a static, crackling sound in the air, and he holds onto the edge of the table so that his hands don't shake. Staring at her dead in the eyes, it's obvious that yes, he feels guilt. He probably feels more guilt than Weiss could ever fathom, and he hates himself, and he doesn't know why he survived but he did and Hazel gave him a reason to but the rest of the world is just cruel and he wishes it would go away.
Finally, he forces the anger back where it can fester, posture stiff and voice flat as he sits back down.]
You said you knew the other me. If you know the other Jaune as much as you think you do, then let me ask you: What the fuck do you think?
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[ She has to believe in that. She finally goes to sit down at the table across from Jaune though, her eyes carefully examining his new markings. ]
You like sweet things still, don't you? Order a mocha. Peppermint, if you're in the holiday mood.
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[He's accustomed to it now. People fear him when they see him. He usually just goes with it. No one but him and a few others know the story behind them, and he's fine with that. Fear is better than pity.]
[His eyes brighten. He does like sweets! But--] How did you know that?
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[ This and the sweets means this version and her are clearly.. not friends. ]
Because in my memories, you and I are good friends. You like sweets, and junk food, and are particularly fond of whatever part of the chicken "nuggets" are made of. You love bunnies and dinosaurs and games and comics. You're strong, and brave, and put others ahead of yourself even if you don't always have the right answers or you make mistakes on your way to the right path. The you I know is also... hurt. I don't blame you, and even if you're doing better, I can still see it. You have a different look in your eyes now, though.
[ Weiss doesn't look scared of the markings. Once she's gotten a good look at them, along with her words her gaze is focused on his. If anything she looks more like she's trying to figure him out than anything else. This Jaune definitely isn't her Jaune, even if it's still.. well, Jaune. ]
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[He's quiet, looking like he's trying very hard to keep a stoic face and failing. He grits his teeth a little, some things right on the mark and others...something he remembers enjoying. Dinosaurs are cool. He remembers the book about bunnies his mom would read to him sometimes. But that's in the past. He's no longer that person. And he's certainly not brave, or someone who would ever put others first. But this person who he only knows from her fame, who he's never thought much of other than another eventual target in the downfall of Remnant, says it with so much conviction.
It leaves him unsettled.]
Who told you to say that? [He narrows his eyes, trying not to look vulnerable. But this is the first time in a while he's truly been caught off guard, and he doesn't like it. One hand goes to rest against his cheek--the side with the scars, unsurprisingly.]
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[ At least they were both at the Vytal Festival. That's weird. If he was there, but they didn't know each other.. She keeps it in mind to ask if she gets the chance later in the conversation. ]
I did. We're having a conversation. You asked how I knew what you liked, you dolt.
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[Go for it ask him.
Before he can argue though, he just stares at her incredulously. He had murdered countless people, nearly died multiple times, and faced the terrors that were Salem's realm on a daily basis. Did she just]
Did you call me a dolt?
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[ Weiss can't help but break out into a smile when he asks that question. Apparently this Jaune wasn't quite used to get bluntness. ]
Don't be a dolt and I won't call you one.
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[When the server asks what they want, Jaune mumbles his order "Large peppermint mocha". He almost seems to be sulking.]
You know. That's kind of rude. You don't know me. You don't know my life. I'm actually pretty smart, thank you very little.
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[ She's not sure what kind of person this Jaune is. Her Jaune.. she's not even sure what he would say to something like that. She knows he wanted to be a hero, that he wants to protect his friends more than anything. But she doesn't know if he thinks the rest of the world is worth protecting, but he's never called the rest of the world cowards before. ]
I've been called a lot worse than rude. [ She looks at the server. ] I'll have an Americano, thank you.
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I'm sure you have. Doesn't change that it's rude. [Huffs.] The fuck is an Americano? [This Jaune is fine with cursing!]
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I'm rude and you said something doltish, so I called you on it. I can live with that. [ Weiss is gonna Weiss whether Jaune is gonna Jaune or not. ] It's espresso diluted in water so it's similar to regular coffee, though it has a slightly stronger flavor and they can't get away with letting it sit in carafes all day.
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Can you? [He has no idea what most of what she just said means, along with whatever the fuck a carafe is.] That does not sound good.
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[ she shrugs. ] So you and I still have very different tastes.
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And your taste still sucks. No offense.
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Why should a lack of perfection mean everyone should suffer for the actions of a few people you've decided don't deserve protection? All you do is create more of what you hated in the first place if you are who I think you are.
[ As their drinks are brought over, Weiss takes her and slowly takes a sip before looking Jaune in the eyes. ]
You called me to a coffee shop to convince me I should be scared of you, but my fingers aren't those clinging to the table.
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[It came out louder than he intended. The server tries not to stare and Jaune looks to the side, only realizing that he's clung onto the table when Weiss mentions it. He tears his hands away, covering his reaction with a scoff.]
You're still sheltered.
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[ Weiss gives an apologetic glance to the server. She was going to have to leave him one hell of a tip for this. Weiss wouldn't blame him for not checking up on them again. ]
I'm not sheltered anymore. But I won't become a monster to protect the people I want to save from them.
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Do you like stories?
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[ Enjoying your Weiss-recommended drink?? Yeah she bets you are. She's going to sip on her drink too, slowly. ]
I'll listen if you have one you want to share.
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Once upon a time, there was a very selfish bunny who lived in the forest with his parents and his sisters. The bunny and his family lived a sheltered but simple life. They never had to worry about predators, and they always had enough food for their big family. Because the mom and dad bunnies only had one son, and because his sisters were so excitable, everyone thought the boy bunny was special.
[He starts toying with the stirrer left in his drink.]
So they doted on their son, protecting him, but like I said before, the bunny was very selfish. He had heard too many stories of heroes and good beating evil from his parents, and he wanted to be a hero too. That only made his family laugh at him, which made the bunny take even more dangerous and childish risks. But his family still laughed at him.
The bunny became more sullen. But one thing he always enjoyed were the camping trips his family went on. In fact, that was his favorite pastime. [There's some warmth in his voice, and then it's gone.] One day while the family was hiking to one of their favorite camping spots, bunny-sized tents and bags full of food and pancake mix distributed among each family member, they came to the usual fork in the path when the selfish bunny asked if they could camp down the other trail. They never had before, and he didn't understand why. The mom and dad bunny tried to convince their son that it was selfish, but the son argued and begged, and pretty soon his sisters joined him and their parents were overpowered. They agreed to it, because even if they knew the other spot was safer, their son had been in a bad mood and they wanted him to be happy. They got to the camping spot, which was next to a nice pond and near some trees. There were no dangerous predators or grimm, and after setting up a night full of laughter, they fell asleep.
That's when the nightmare started. The selfish bunny woke up to screaming. Sprinting out of his tent, he would see something that would change his life forever. Three of his sisters had been slaughtered, his mom and dad doing their best to fight off the bandit wolves who had found them. The bunny was terrified. How had this happened? Why weren't there any huntsmen around to save his family? He was filled with hatred-- hatred toward himself, for selfishly begging to camp somewhere different and unknown, hatred towards the ones who murdered the defenseless and weak, and hatred towards the false heroes who talked big but weren't around when they were needed. The bunny acted the only way he knew: he grabbed his now dead father's sword and shield, too heavy for him, ignoring his mom's screams until she blocked a hit for him and her corpse landed on him. Then he got up to fight and buy his sisters time. [His voice catches a little, despite years of practice.] It didn't work. He thought he was going to die. And he probably would have. Help wouldn't come.
Then it did. Not thanks to any huntress or huntsman, but thanks to someone far stronger. Someone who knew how the world truly worked, and someone whose kindness wasn't the selfish kind the bunny thought was the right way. But he worked for some scary people...not that the bunny cared that much, this person, this warrior was a true hero. And he would follow in his footsteps, even if that meant that he'd become a monster in the eyes of the selfish and still sheltered people who claimed they were protecting this worthless world.
The end?
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I'm sorry that that happened to the rabbit. I'm sorry that there was no one there to help. I'm especially sorry the rabbit decided that his way to repent for his selfish decision was to put others in dangerous situations in anger instead of trying to do something to change things so that more bunnies have a chance not to share that pain. No one thinks that we're going to be able to save anyone, Jaune. It's not "sheltered" to try to fight instead of making things worse, so even if I am sorry for what happened to you and I can't imagine what you went through, it doesn't excuse forcing others to go through it too. You're not a monster, but you are still that selfish child putting your feelings over others' because you can't have your way.
[ She hasn't put her hand on Myrtenaster yet, but she's very much ready to go for it if he doesn't take that well. ]
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I just revealed my soul to you, and you're going to call me a brat. I mean you're not wrong but that's kinda uncalled for.
[He takes a long sip of his drink.]
But I've survived, haven't I? So being good really doesn't matter. [He taps his fingers on the table nervously.] Will you buy me another coffee?
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[ She sighs and folds her hands on the table, looking at him dead on. ]
If you can look me in the eyes and tell me that as a survivor, you can live with what you've done without guilt, I'll buy both of your coffees.
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You want to talk about guilt?! [There's a static, crackling sound in the air, and he holds onto the edge of the table so that his hands don't shake. Staring at her dead in the eyes, it's obvious that yes, he feels guilt. He probably feels more guilt than Weiss could ever fathom, and he hates himself, and he doesn't know why he survived but he did and Hazel gave him a reason to but the rest of the world is just cruel and he wishes it would go away.
Finally, he forces the anger back where it can fester, posture stiff and voice flat as he sits back down.]
You said you knew the other me. If you know the other Jaune as much as you think you do, then let me ask you: What the fuck do you think?
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I think his great-great-grandfather would be proud of him.
[ From her tone, she clearly doesn't think that is true. But she's getting up to leave, definitely not going to buy him another coffee. ]
I don't think anyone is of you.
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