464Innocence
XI
Shield.
Dodge.
A fist lashed out, the shining blade jutting out from its owner's forearm passed mere inches from Jaune's face. He stepped back, trying to put some distance between himself and his attacker. His attacker was too aggressive though, and he stepped forward, his other hand coming up to continue attacking, refusing to let up even for a second. With a cruel, mocking grin, his assailant swung his forearm blade into Jaune's left side, only for his right hand to attack instead, getting inside of his guard, and slamming the blade into his side, carving out a sizable chunk of Aura. In desperation, Jaune threw his shield forward, swinging it with all of his might. If it connected, it would have dropped his opponent, a rather thin, almost frail looking Huntsman.
Unfortunately with his thin frame came a more agile fighting style, and he effortlessly dodged Jaune's wild swing with practiced ease. A step back, and the heater style shield only seemed to mess his hair up slightly. Jaune bit his lip, and stepped back as well, to put himself into a more neutral position. His opponent sneered. "Oh? What's wrong? Can't keep up?"
Jaune growled in frustration, doing his best to not rise to the jabs of his opponent. It was hard, especially with the jeers and insults from the surrounding audience. You're only here to improve, not impress anyone, he reminded himself. Not that it helped much; the reminders of his own ineptitude stung, regardless of how much he tried to distance himself. This lapse in concentration was all the opportunity that his foe needed, and while Jaune was distracted trying to shut out his surroundings, the Huntsman closed the gap between the two. Jaune noticed, but all too late as a flash of silver and a blossoming of pain exploded right at his neck. A loud buzzer sounded, and the voice of the MC spoke.
"Weapons down! Winner by Aura Percentage is Cain Crimson!"
The surrounding audience let out a mixture of jeers, laughter, insults, and other less-than-pleasant noises as the lanky Huntsman held aloft his twin blades gauntlets in victory. Jaune wasn't sure what stung more; being beaten so thoroughly in front of a live audience of strangers, (his dear diminutive girlfriend included) or having lost to someone with such an obviously fake and edgelord name like 'Cain Crimson.' The level of cringe was almost physically painful, and that was coming from Jaune "Onesies are totally acceptable sleepwear" Arc. Regardless, with the humiliation nipping at his heels, Jaune quietly exited the cage, unable to bring himself to even look up at the crowd who were all seated a floor up. The only benefit to the whole thing was the fact that they were basically the opening act. According to Neo, the real prized fighters pulled in quite a large number of bettors and spectators, practically filling every seat in the house.
As he made his way into the hall outside the arena, he noticed that leaning against the wall was one of the two twins that frequently hung around The Club; the one dressed in red and sporting a pair of wicked claws. Judging by the expression on her face, she most certainly wasn't about to offer him condolences on his loss. "So," she began, her smirk growing wider, "Don't tell me; you have a side bet with our good friend Cain, and he paid you to take a dive? There's no way he could have paid you enough Lien to make up for the humiliation."
Jaune didn't bother to respond at first. His cheeks burned with increased ire and shame as he shouldered past her. As he did, he murmured, "It's none of your business."
The girl huffed and shook her head. "Whatever. Better spend that money quickly though; won't have much time to spend it once Neo's through with you for screwing up so badly."
That statement gave Jaune pause. Not out of any fear of his girlfriend, but rather curiosity. Neo was nothing but sweetness and mischief with him, a far cry from the danger that others were making her out to be. He shook his head as he walked to the end of the hall and to the stairs that would bring him to the upper level. Neo had told him that she was going to have to act a bit differently around him and others while they were in the Pit. Maybe this was all some sort of false reputation, fostered to get people to take her seriously in spite of her size and stature? That had to be it. He could sympathize; although his friends knew him too well by this point for any acting to work with them.
He opened the door to the upper level and at once had to suppress a wince. Mocking smirks followed him, along with the odd snide comment as he passed. "Aren't you a little young to be here?" "It's past your bedtime little boy!" "My geriatric grandmother fights better than you!"
Jaune kept his gaze to the hardwood floor and shuffled to the bar. He didn't even bother to look up to meet the gaze of the bartender as he ordered. "Two shots of Captain Heidegger's. Straight." He rifled through his pockets to pull out the Lien for the shots, but before he could pull them out, the click of two shot glasses on the wooden countertop alerted him to the arrival of his drinks, and he looked up, confused.
"On the house. It was nice knowing you, kid." Hei Xiong rumbled, staring down at Jaune with the closest expression of pity the bear of a man could muster. "Hopefully that little hellion of a handler makes it quick."
Jaune blinked gormlessly as Xiong walked away. That was weird…just how bad is Neo's rep around here? Out of curiosity, Jaune glanced in the direction he'd last seen Neo after they'd parted ways outside of the Pit. She was still in the VIP room overlooking the Pit, but her attention seemed to be elsewhere as she seemed to be focusing on something or someone else. Jaune couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not, and rather than dwell on it and potentially assume the wrong thing, he instead took one of the shot glasses and downed it in a single gulp.
"If you could take a hit like you take a shot, you'd have slaughtered that young brat." A voice beside him spoke up. It sounded as if gravel could speak, and happened to have a nasty pack a day habit, then was tone shifted down four octaves. The speaker was someone Jaune didn't recognize, an old man of indeterminate age. It was hard to tell if he was in his 50's or his 80's. Gray scraggly hair fell down to his shoulders, framing a face that was a maze of jagged scars and canyon like wrinkles lined with dark stubble. He was dressed in a long, brown leather coat that looked like it was more patches than the original leather it started off with, and Jaune could see a glimpse of what might have been a sword hilt at his belt, before his movement covered it back up. Rugged didn't even begin to describe him; a far cry from the tryhard of the still preening Cain down below.
Jaune stared at him for a few moments before huffing and turning away to his second shot. "Didn't ask you," he muttered spitefully.
Whack! Jaune winced as the old man abruptly smacked him upside his head, nearly causing him to spill his other shot. "Don't you get smart with me boy! I still got enough pep in me to bend you over my knee!"
"Ow!" Jaune protested, glaring at the old man. "What the hell?!"
"Damn brats! You oughta show a little respect to your elders!"
A scoff; both Jaune and the old man followed the sound to see Hei Xiong looking at the old man with disdain. "Respect given when it's due, old man. Your glory days are long past. Lecture people when you aren't already three sheets to the wind." His gaze moved back to Jaune. "If you survive tonight, I wouldn't pay him any further mind."
The old man glared at Xiong who ignored it and went back to tending the bar. Jaune knocked back his second drink, and made to stand, already tired of the ambiance of the Pit, and wanting some quiet time to nurse his injuries without being bothered. "You know what your problem is, boy?" Jaune didn't answer, but he paused, part of him curious as to what such a man could have to say. The old man continued, "You got no confidence. You're out there second guessing your every move. Never committing to anything for fear of screwing up. You turtle up, and never press your advantage. Your opponents can see it, and overwhelm you."
"I-" Jaune started. "-...I don't have experience, all right? I don't know what I'm-"
"Bullshit boy! I saw you down there! Anyone with the basics should have put that two bit punk flat on his ass! You scared to take a hit or something?" The old man scoffed, and punctuated his question by tipping back a bottle of cheap booze.
Jaune's ears burned. "No!"
"Then take a goddamn chance! Combat is a lot like social situations; you gotta have confidence. Act like you know what you're doing! Make them second guess themselves! If you never make a move, you're one-hundred percent sure to fuck up. If you move, even if your odds are one percent, it's better'n nothing." Another swig of the bottle cut the old man off again.
Jaune was quiet. The old man sounded like he knew what he was talking about, at least enough to give Jaune some food for thought. Before he had a chance to respond, yet another voice cut in. "Jebidiah Steele, as I live and breathe."
Jebidiah looked up, his vision focusing on someone behind Jaune, and when he turned around, he found himself face to face with another older Huntsman. This one wasn't as old as Jebidiah, but his jet black hair was peppered with gray. One hand rested on what looked to be the hilt of a mecha-shift sword, and the other nursed a silver flask. Something about him seemed vaguely familiar to Jaune, perhaps in his manner of dress, what with black, red, and the small cape that hung around his shoulders. "Heh," scoffed Jebediah, "If it isn't the younger of the Branwen brats; never thought I'd see you again. You still in the business? Thought by now you'd be pushing up daisies, Qrow."
The younger man sneered, taking a swig of his flask, and took a seat on the other side of Jebidiah. "Not gonna get rid of me that easily. And I'd pay to see you say that in front of Raven. I was always the one with the sense of humor."
Jaune took that as his cue to leave, or at least, he was planning on it. He took a step forward, when he heard a THUNK behind him, and suddenly found his hoodie had decided it wasn't going to go any further. He turned his head to see a rather large knife pinning his hoodie to the barstool, Jebediah pulling his hand away from it. Incensed at the damage done to his hoodie, Jaune whirled around and grabbed the knife's handle. It took him a good couple of tries, but he finally yanked it out of the wooden seat. "What's your problem?!"
"I ain't done talking yet boy." The old man muttered, as if he hadn't just damaged Jaune's favorite hoodie. "Take a seat and another shot. I got more to tell you."
Jaune glowered and angrily tossed the knife onto the bar with a clatter. "Maybe I don't want to listen!"
Qrow openly laughed. "I would. After a showing like that, I'm sure he could put you flat on your ass." Face burning, Jaune sat back down on the bench, for fear of any more damage to his precious hoodie. It was almost enough to make him regret even joining the Pit. "Aren't you a bit young to be here? You look like you're as old as my nieces." The man once again punctuated his statement with a swig of his ever present flask.
Jaune ignored the comment on his age and glanced around up to the VIP room. To his surprise, Neo was no longer there, or at least not visible. Concern reared its ugly head. Did she leave because of me? Was I really that bad? Damn it, I keep screwing up! I can't believe I did that bad against some edgelord like that…God, if I lose my first girlfriend because of my terrible combat showing, I might as well just give up on Beacon- WHACK
Once more, Jaune's head was knocked forward as Jebidiah smacked him upside the head once more. "You payin' attention boy? Get yer head outta the clouds and the cotton out yer ears." Jaune glared at him, but the old man didn't seem to notice, or care, and instead continued to talk. "Stop. Taking. Every. Hit. Dead. O-" Jebidiah poked him in the upper arm with each sentence, at least until Jaune's patience wore thin, and he swatted the offending appendage away.
"Will you quit it!?" Snapped Jaune.
"Like that boy!" Jebidiah exclaimed, with such exuberance that it nearly bowled Jaune over. "Deflect! Throw them off balance! A shield is more than a plank of wood or steel, it's an instrument, a weapon in its own right! Don't stand there like an indecisive turd, get in there!"
Jaune rubbed his shoulder, expression contorting into more confusion than anger. "Why do you care so much?"
Jebidiah snorted. "One, because watching such a performance down there was physically painful to watch. If I cringed any harder, my spine'd straighten back out. Two, because that little punk down there doesn't need a bigger ego. He's got no skill; he's all flash and show. I can tell you've got a solid foundation, but you're making dumbass mistakes."
"As if I won't make mistakes if I charge in?" Jaune countered bitterly.
WHACK! Another smack around side his head had Jaune wincing in pain, and Qrow laughing uproariously. "They wouldn't be dumbass mistakes then!" Jebidiah proclaimed.
Jaune rubbed his head, and glared daggers at the old man. "What the hell's the difference?!"
"Simple; a dumbass mistake is one that could have been easily avoided." Qrow chimed in, looking like he was enjoying the show.
"You fuck up tryin', that's one thing. Can't no one blame you for that, least no one who matters. But you fuck up 'cause you just stood by? 'cause you were too cowardly or stupid to take a chance? That's a dumbass mistake." Jebidiah lectured, picking the knife up from the counter and twirling it between weathered, crooked fingers with more dexterity than a man his age rightly should have.
Jaune fell silent once more, his gaze falling to the bar. Second guessing myself, huh? "I…guess you have a point."
"Damn right I do."
Jaune's eye twitched in annoyance, but he fought it down. "Thanks for the advice, I guess. Think next time you could lay off the smacking?"
Jebidiah huffed. "Firstly, I ain't your pappy or your schoolmarm. You want more advice, pay for it. Second, I wouldn't have to smack you if your head was so damn dense. Brothers, I think you did more damage to my hand than I did to you."
Rolling his eyes, Jaune risked another attempt at rising to his feet, and found to his relief that the old man seemed satisfied, as Jaune was able to leave without further damage to his previous hoodie. He walked forward a few places and looked over his shoulder. Qrow and Jebidiah were silent, each drinking in turn. He frowned, and turned back. He had a lot to think on tonight, least of which was: Why did that Qrow fellow seem so familiar?
Jaune stepped out into the dimly lit alleyway that adjoined The Club, and the Pit, and glanced around. It was the same alley where he and Neo had parted ways before he'd entered the Pit. She explained to him beforehand that, due to her being his handler, she'd need to go in before he did. Perhaps she was still doing business inside. Or, his traitorous mind began, she's ashamed to be seen with such a pathetic mess like you.
Jaune shook his head, trying to dispel the intrusive thoughts. Looking around, he found a relatively clean stoop to sit down on, the stairway to some back alley closed business. He brushed aside some stray cigarette butts that had been carelessly discarded there, and sat down on the concrete steps. Leaning back on one elbow, he glanced up at the night sky. For a moment, he mused on how he could only see the brightest stars, the city lights obscuring all the rest, unlike his little home town.
Just like you. Jaune frowned and shut his eyes tightly. Damn it. He couldn't seem to escape the specter of his own incompetence. Hefting a sigh, Jaune mentally dived into the events of that evening. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, and start learning, he mentally chastised himself. Jebidiah has a point. How many times has Ms. Goodwitch told you to stop playing defensive so much? Maybe that's what she meant; to stop second guessing my every move. I get so wrapped up in what could happen that I'm never prepared for what's currently happening. He glanced around as the clattering of what sounded like beer bottles caught his attention. It was only some drunken looking fellow tossing aside his empties as he stumbled past, not even paying Jaune any mind. Melancholy passed over him, yet again. Face it. Neo probably didn't think you could be that bad again. Losing to 'Cain Crimson?' Pathetic.
He hung his head. It stung, far more than any pain he experienced down in the Pit. He couldn't even show off for his girlfriend. A door opened somewhere, or closed, he didn't know and didn't care. Maybe I should just go back. Better to lick my wounds where my team is than sit in some dirty alley feeling sorry for-
The sound of broken glass occuring right next to him snapped him out of his depressed musings, and his head snapped up, wondering if someone from inside had decided to try and chase him away by throwing bottles at him. Instead, he caught a flash of brown, pink, and white before something flew into his lap with enough force to push his back against the steps where he sat.
Jaune wondered if it was a good or a bad thing that he was starting to know Neo by the taste of her lips and tongue. The short woman practically plundered Jaune's mouth with a passion comparable to the wives of Huntsmen who arrived home safe after months away. Her arms locked around his neck, and she sat right in his lap without shame or warning. For what felt like forever, and yet not nearly long enough, Neo's tongue danced across Jaune's own, taking the lead as usual, and as usual, Jaune didn't mind ceding control to her one bit. He pulled her in close, and in those moments the intrusive thoughts fled from his mind like shadows from the light of dawn. It was with some reluctance that they pulled away from each other, Neo smirking down at him with that confident smile that seemed to fill his dreams more often than not recently.
"If that's my consolation prize," Jaune started after he caught his breath, "Maybe losing wasn't all that bad."
Neo grinned from ear to ear as she slowly rose from him, and dusted herself off. 'You should see what the prize for winning is.'
Jaune didn't need to guess, the salacious wink punctuating Neo's hand signs telling him all he needed to know. With cheeks feeling rather warm, Jaune jumped to his feet and stretched, now struggling to keep thoughts of another nature from rising to the forefront of his mind. "A-are you done inside?"
Neo nodded, then paused. She gestured beside herself, and the air beside her shimmered and built up on itself, surprising Jaune as the image of Jebidiah formed from nothing more than light, and what Jaune assumed was her Aura. She pulled her blade from its hidden sheath, and with a flick of her wrist, sliced through the image causing it to shatter into pieces. Lastly, she turned to Jaune, tilting her head curiously, questioningly. It took Jaune a moment to figure out what she was getting at.
"What?! N-no, you uh-" he began, taken aback by the causal way she seemed to be offering to hurt the old man for what Jaune assumed was his physical retorts. "No, it's fine! He- he had some good advice. Kinda reminded me of my grandfather, in a way…"
Neo stared at him impassively for a moment, then sheathed her sword just as swiftly as she'd revealed it. Her hands proceeded to sign out, 'So you learned a little something tonight?'
Jaune nodded. "More than a few things." Like not to doubt my girlfriend, he mused mentally, relief finally settling in as the realization that Neo still wanted him settled in. Neo nodded, smiled again, and grabbed his arm possessively, nestling it right up against her chest with the same shameless familiarity she'd presented when they'd had their first night out on the town. Jaune once more tried, and failed, to ignore just how soft Neo was, and it wasn't until he'd stumbled forward that he realized that Neo was guiding him away. "Neo? Where are we going? Neo? H-hey, this is a school night!"
A/N: So, uh…yeah. For those who were unaware, I'm back. I'm hoping to upkeep this writing frequency, but we'll see how time and motivation go. Feel free to give the profile a glance if you're curious to know more. As for those who are having a hard time seeing Lefou's Crack Den, I know, I can't seem to access it either for some unknown reason. I may have to remove it and re-upload it, or perhaps even just remove it altogether if the issue continues.
Also, it's a little weird continuing this fic right as Neo has started a hobby in collecting death flags in canon (V9.) I could be wrong, but given how things are going, I'd be very surprised if she makes it out of the current season alive, to my dismay. Ah well, c'est la vie.