A Limiting Factor

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In combat, Instructor had always said, there were three great, overarching types of fighters. Scalpels, those who shot into combat - either literally, with a firearm like Ruby could do, or figuratively by using speed and accurate attacks like Weiss would - to cut down their enemies and support stronger, sturdier allies in engagements. Then there were the stalwart, those who held ground rather than launching out to take it, and he liked to fancy himself one such fighter, though he knew in truth he was more akin to a scalpel than a stalwart kind of fighter.

Then, there were the hammers, he'd always been told by Instructor, as the droid swapped between the styles to beat him into the ground until he learned to deal with them. Proper, Sith training, that, either breaking him or breaking though with the lesson. People who functioned as hammers in battle were brutal, somewhat slower typically, but unyielding fighters. Stalwart fighters held ground heedless of damage taken or coming, and scalpels maneuvered around their opponents to deal that damage, hamstringing opponents until they could crush them. Hammers, though, skipped all the preamble and went straight to crushing, under weathering, devastating blows.

"What, not gonna use your fancy glowstick, Jaune?" Yang, the very clear hammer among his group of friends, jeered as he joined her on the sparring arena floor. She cocked a hip to rest her fist on and watch him spin his glaive at his side on the palm of his hand, whistling from the speed the Force let him reach. "I was hoping for your real weapon, not your backup. What gives?"

"One is for fighting people, so I don't hurt them." He caught the glaive and held it in front of him, curved edge facing inward to line up with her neck in a faux-threat she smirked at. Letting it drop, he finished in a cooler fashion than how he'd explained it to Ruby, "The other is for killing monsters."

"What's the difference?"

"My glaive is a blade, so it only cuts things." He left unstated the obvious, that Aura could easily protect against blades. Yang was a smart hammer, she'd figure that bit out for herself, he was sure. "My lightsaber, though, burns through them. If I swung for your arm and you blocked, I could destroy your Gauntlet or do some serious burns to your arm. So unless you want to go to the infirmary with third degree burns..."

"Nah, was just curious." She shrugged the idea off now she was satisfied and flicked her arms out to the sides, Ember Celica extending to full form while she watched. Careful eyes that he recognized for their staunch seriousness at work, checking his equipment for damage. Meeting his eyes again, she smiled, playful again inside a moment, and shrugged, "Plus, if its a heat weapon, it would play hell with my hair. Frizz it up like nothin' else, I'd bet."

"Or burn it off." He shuddered, as much a reaction to what he knew that could come to as to show he was joking. The woman across only half-laughed, the other half of her glaring death at him for the idea. He waved it off and shrugged, "Hey, that's why I have my glaive here, right?"

"Yeah." She nodded, giving him a threatening, almost feral grin that had him pause for a moment in checking the straps of his forearm guard, "You're smart for it, too. Wouldn't have wanted to hurt you if you did something bad like that."

Hadn't that been the point of leaving his saber behind? He didn't bother arguing that, of course, since he knew better than to risk angering a wild Yang even further, but he felt like that had been the entire point of their conversation. Rolling his eyes and sighing, he looked up, to the high booth where the deputized Headmistress stood, doing the final system checks of the day before sparring started properly. But typically she'd be done right about-

"Are you two prepared?" The woman finally called, eyes hard and critical even from such a distance landing on them. Like it was their fault, somehow, that they'd been read fast and already wanted to challenge each other when they came in, sop they'd had to wait on her. "I apologize for the wait, but you should expect such when you rush up to me to make your challenges at the start of the class."

"Sorry, Headmistress Goodwitch." They both called it mechanically the way it had been drilled into their heads, though Jaune had to resist the urge to point out only Yang had gone running up to her. That way lay madness, he knew. Madness coming from weeks of detention, or Yang's revenge fuelled attentions.

Absolute, blonde fuelled madness.

"If both are sparring members are prepared?" The woman said it like a sentence, but the two blondes nodded regardless. A gesture she returned, turning her attention on the students arrayed sporadically around the room. "Our first match of the day is a challenge exhibition between Jaune Arc, of Ansel, and Yang Xiao Long of-" Ruby interrupted, then, to whoop and cheer excitedly, and the blonde woman's eyes snapped to her, "Miss Rose, be still and calm, please."

"Sorry…"

"As I was saying," the Headmistress sighed after a few long moments, "Jaune Arc of Ansel, and Yang Xiao Long, of Patch and Signal academy. They each wanted to challenge each other to a spar and informed me as such. Remember that any student may spar any student, so long as they get my approval before class to do so. It is always a great method for growing your combat skills, facing a variety of opponents"

Left unsaid in the introduction was an implication, from the lack of an Academy name to follow in his introduction. Yang had been formally trained in a formal Academy, with multiple Hunters and support staff to ensure a quality, regulation education. It could mean he'd been taken in and trained by the best Hunter on the frontier, or one of them rather, and then admitted on recommendation rather than accreditation. Or, equally likely, it could mean he passed or somehow cheated tests and the system out where such was easier to do for lack of infrastructure and now he was here.

Prodigy trained by a veteran directly, or a country bumpkin just smart enough to cheat his way into the Academy, those were his options, and the rumor mill would run them. Though hopefully, his displays in Initiation had gone some distance in picking which the mill would decide to take as fact.

"Dust barriers are in place and ready, and the Aura readouts are registering both of you." The woman went on, running roughshod through his musings and drawing his attention back to the present. "Are you both prepared for the bout?"

"Yes, Headmistress."

"Yep- Yes ma'am!"

"Better, Miss Xiao Long. I would have hated to have to issue you extra assignment for disrespecting me. Again." Goodwitch murmured, smirking almost haughtily at the rapid amendment to the blonde's statement. The students around them chuckled and laughed, for a moment, before the woman started speaking and they, fearfully from what he could sense washing across the Force, quieted down. "The match will continue until a student is rendered unconscious, their Aura drops below thirty percent, or they are pinned or wounded in such a way as to be unable to reasonably continue the bout. Are these terms agreeable?"

"Yes, Ma'am." They chorused brightly, excitement crackling across the great ocean of the Force like lightning. A tempest that crackled as much from the students, who were excited to see Jaune fight after Initiation and Yang fight period as famous as she was from her Signal days, as it did from Yang and Jaune themselves.

"Then in time with the chime, you may begin your fight." Goodwitch said, the Dust barrier darkening to obscure their view outside the ring - for their focus, he guessed - and the lights overhead dimming ever so slightly to prevent glare.

Overhead, the display chimed its warning gently, and the two slid into the ready, the woman taking a relatively classic and easy boxing stance. Jaune himself slid his off foot forward, his armored side held out warily, palm up defensively, while his other arm turned the glaive in his hand and brought it low and back, the tip nearly touching the floor and the curved edge resting against the back of his calf. A second chime echoed and he flicked his hood up with the Force, to obscure her sight of his face and were he was looking, while the woman started bouncing on her heels.

Finally, the starting bell chimed, and the fight was underway.

"A hammer fights in such a way as to levy as much damage directly into the bulk of an opponent." Instructor had explained to him, panting on the ground and clutching his stomach where the mechanical menace had devastated him a few moments prior. As always, Jaune had made a mistake. And as always, instructor had dealt him a lesson filled with bruise inducing pain and left him reeling on the floor, pacing and watching the young trainee coldly. "But do not assume that they will be slow. Or you will die, boy. And that would make you a waste of my time."

The blonde's arms snapped back and away to either side of her body, throwing aside the classical boxer's guard and blasting concussive rounds into the hardened cement of the arena floor. The blast hurtled her forward, the woman tucking her legs in to turn her bodily in the air and a fist rearing back to crush down on him as her arc, expertly made after years training to do it, carried her straight to him. An attack that gave her the speed she needed to close with her opponent, and bring a hammer's devastating power to bear against them.

Unfortunate for her, then, that he'd seen that trick once or twice already, in a spar days prior and in Initiation both.

His off hand curled into a fist and reared back, lashing out in a powerful uppercut that would have driven the breath from the woman, if she'd been in reach. Instead, the driving blow called on the invisible hand of the Force to do it for him. The woman cried out and broke over the invisible ball of raw, primal energy that slammed into her gut with all the gentleness of a cannon, her body curling around it and then plummeting towards the hard ground below. H knew better than to think she'd been defeated, though, and launched towards her, the Force cracking the ground as he leapt.

Yang landed on a hand, letting it collapse in a controlled fashion and rolling across the ground, coming up in a defensive stance with her arms across her chest in time to intercept Jaune's probing slash. His glaive whistled through the air from left to right in a powerful slash, but the woman simply bounced it off an Aura protected left hand, sacrificing precious Aura to send the glaive high over her head and open his guard. The other lashed out and caught him on the chin as he stepped back to evade, barely chipping it but, from Yang, still a painful blow to take.

The blow forced him back, the blonde Force wielder staggering from Yang's sheer force, far outstripping Instructor's own strength. The machine had favored delivering pain through devastatingly powerful, accurate blows, while Yang's blows were pure power.

Grinning, Yang made to follow, but he warded her off by releasing his glaive and letting it spin through the air, a sound like a saw whirring as it steadily advanced on her and forced her to back away. The retreat, he was sure, was less for fear of damage and more wriness for his unknown 'Semblance' and what it could do, and he could sense the lack of true fear in her. Still, the glaive's spinning forced her back and he grinned, leaping back into the fray, the weapon sliding into his hand in the middle of him swinging his arm like it had already been there, sending the blade towards Yang's throat as he stepped in.

Yang leaned back and let the strike land across her chest, Aura flecking away along the blade's length, and then lashed out and caught him in the stomach with a kick. A kick that was to prelude a flurry of blows as the woman leaned in, one hand gripping his glauve's haft to force his guard wide so she could step in and grip the front of his loose robes. Pressing against him, she released his useless glaive and wrapped the arm around his head, holding him there by his hood while her fist pummeled into his stomach again and again just under his light armor piece, coming in lightning fast blows that robbed him of breath regardless of his Aura dampening the attack.

"Ragh!" He cried, pushing her away as hard as he could with the Force, the woman's hand yanking his hood as she was hurled away. She landed on her back but turned it into a roll, coming up and aiming to counter him. Again, he sent an invisible hand of the Force into her, this time shoving against her sternum and forcing her down as her gauntlets came up, cracking the fury of her attack.

He felt fire burn along his left arm in long tracks and cried out, recoiling and turning instinctively to protect the limb. The buckshot round, for that was what it was, had torn along his upper arm and shoulder, his focus on the Force robbing him of the normal protection his Aura would have offered. Now ugly, ragged hunks of flesh were missing, red running down his arm while he scowled and turned back to the fight, glaive whistling as he let it spin, launching through the air towards the blonde woman.

Invisible hands not attuned to the Force gripped him and lifted him, pushing him and his weapon away from Yang as the headmistress called out, "Enough! The match is over!"

"My Aura is fine, and I don't yield!" He argued, landing on his feet and catching the weapon as the headmistress sent it to him, blue eyes scowling up at her while red ran down his arm. "I can still fight!"

"You are bleeding all over my arena!"

"It's a scratch!" He argued, lifting the wounded arm to make a show of his lack of caring about the admittedly ugly and painful wounds. "I've fought with a lot worse than this, Headmistress."

"You've been shot, Mister Arc, and I will not allow-"

"I yield!" Yang interrupted them both, before Jaune could argue and get in trouble or the headmistress could finish her response. Two blonde's looked at her in surprise and she held her hands up in surrender, smiling nervously. "My Aura's at sixty, his is at eighty some freaking how, so I yield. Probably wouldn't have won it anyhow, he keeps flinging me across the floor."

"...Very well, then, Miss Xiao Long." The headmistress coughed and, more officially, called out, "The match ends in a victory by surrender, in favor of Mister Arc, then. Next time, use your Aura properly to protect against attacks."

"My Semblance takes too much concentration to use and maintain my defence at the same time." He argued simply, "It's always a gamble, but I can't not use it."

"I see." The woman didn't rescind her chastisement though, and she reeked of dislike and disapproval, and Jaun shrugged it off. "Miss Xiao long, accompany Mister Arc to the infirmary, if you please. Explain to the doctor what happened and let him examine Ember Celica if he requests it, it would be in order to better ascertain how to treat Mister Arc's injuries."

He wanted to argue, but knew that sending her along with the weapon was more than reasonable. Hunter weapons were so unique, treating the wounds they inflicted tended to be hard, and having the inflicting party around to explain how a weapon worked was only useful. Even if he didn't feel the wounds needed more than cleaning and bandaging, he didn't argue when Yang came to his side and offered him an apologetic grimace.

"So…" She started awkwardly as they began to leave, "How's, uh, how's your shoulder?"

"It's fine."

"It's bleeding, Jaune. Things don't bleed when they're fine." She pointed out as they left the arena, the blonde warrior laying his glaive against the wall beside his locker. He would have stopped to put it away, but the blonde woman shot him a glare when he turned to head down the rows of lockers to do that, so he settled on leaving it in the room instead.

"I've had a lot worse, Yang." A lot worse, in fact. Broken bones, burns, cuts, blaster burns, and so on down the list of what Instructor had put him through. "I don't need to go to the infirmary, I can clean this up with some water."

"Here, it'll keep you from… Dripping." Yang grunted, offering him one of the clean linen wraps the school kept in the locker rooms for students to use. It was little more than a sterile blanket, and he wrapped it around the wound in spite of the slowing of the bleeding if only to satisfy the brawler. "Sorry I shot you, though."

"Don't tell me I'm the first person you've had a training accident with." It was unbelievable, but she echoed of a kind of upset that warranted him asking the question. The last thing he wanted was for Yang to get upset over something like this.

"Oh hell no. I've broken bones, shot people, all kinds of things. Had it done to me, too." The woman laughed, interlacing her fingers behind her head and sighing. "But I still feel bad when it happens, you know? Like, I don't like hurting my friends, it just..."

"Happens?"

"Yeah." She nodded, turning her head just enough to see the ever-so-slowly pinkening linen. "I don't like hurting people, even if I do like fighting. I just… Don't want any hard feelings between us just because I shot you."

"Yeah, makes sense. And, uh, there aren't any hard feelings, Yang. I swear." He had to remember that most people - normal people - didn't accept grievous injury as readily as he did.

Injuries between friends like this, he knew, could sour relationships in a way that he didn't want to risk here, and in a way that wasn't in play with Instructor and Sith training as a whole. Instructor would regularly hurt him in lessons, and usually expect him to learn and train through them untreated unless they were dangerous. It simply wasn't a big deal, and the cultural shock was one that he'd be forced to admit to struggling with for some time.

And now they were settled into an awkward silence, until they reached the wide double doors that lead into the infirmary.

"So," he started, hoping to lighten the mood and raising his injured hand slightly for the joke, "I could use a hand here, Yang. You mind?"

"Okay, listen here asshat… You're only bleeding, you don't get to make like you're a cripple now." She grinned in spite of the complaint to show it was all in play and grabbed the door to open it, bowing at the waist and smiling widely. With an air of a begrudgingly helpful aristocrat, but the grin of a cheshire cat, the woman drawled, "The door for you, my lord, since you rinjuries slow you so much."

He laughed and stepped through into the infirmary, glad things had returned to being so easy. A gladness that vanished very quickly when the head doctor, a Faunus woman with a wide grin to match her swishing, lupine tail at seeing his injury, caught sight of him and started to make her way over.

He wouldn't be there for very long, though he sensed it would feel much longer than it would be.

"It's not that bad, you guys. Just a little gunshot and bruising." He complained for the fifth morning in a row, arm still in a sling and Pyrrha carrying his books under an arm. Her own were under the other arm and Nora was ahead of them, holding doors for the two partners and scowling at Jaune like he'd done something wrong. "I can handle myself… At least in walking to class."

"Let's put it to another vote, then." Ren suggested from his good side, smiling and calling out, "Who votes that Jaune has to deal with being nursed back to health?"

Three hands shot up and Jaune scowled, murmuring under his breath, "Assholes…"

Still, he had to admit in spite of his flaccid complaints, it was… Nice to have people so concerned for him, so willing to take care of him. Or, people he wasn't related to at least. His family had, and still did in some times and places, doted on him plenty when he came home, so he was by and large used to that. But for relative strangers, team mates or not they'd only been together for so long, to be so kind and caring?

That earned a small, honest smile from him as they settled in for history class.

"Today, students, we will be discussing the Faunus Rights Revolution."Doctor Oobleck began as they settled in, the learned man ignoring the indignant scoff of Cardin in the corner of a room. Beyond a grimace, at least. Without comment, the doctor explained quickly. "As all of you should know, the Faunus Rights Revolution was a revolution against the discriminatory isolation of the Faunus as a race on the island Menagerie. The Human kingdoms wanted to imprison the race on the island, and they rejected this."

"The reasons for the Revolution are varied, depending on which Kingdom Menagerie warred with during the conflict. However, one fact is certain about the conflict, outside of circles best left ignored." At the, Jaune could have sworn the good doctor's eyes flicked to the young Winchester. But behind his glasses, the young Force sensitive couldn't be entirely sure. "The Revolution was fought for basic rights that all sentient beings are entitled to. Chief among them being the right to move freely unless a reason is given for it to be barred."

"As if one wasn't…"

"Mister Winchester, if you have something to say, by all means. Speak up." The grumble had been quiet, but either for training or watching the young trainee, Oobleck caught it easily. With a polite smile that belied agitation Jaune didn't need the Force to sense, the man asked, "Please, young man. What did you say? What would you like to share with the class?"

"I said," the man started in a sneer, "that there was a reason they were being put on the island."

"And what reason was that, then? Please, I do seem to have forgotten." Cardin hesitated to answer for a long moment and, either seizing it for effect or lacking patience for the man, Oobleck offered him an answer. "Or do you mean the speciesist policies that the Kingdoms less savory leaders wanted enacted? The ethnic imprisonment of a people? I should hope not, as that is not a valid reason to incarcerate people."

"Why not?" Cardin asked, pride nettled enough to fall into the pit Oobleck had tried to keep him out of. Standing, the man leaned on the desk and asked simply, "If everyone didn't want them around, why should we have to let them be around us?"

"Hm. I believe a lesson in empathy might work best her." The doctor answered simply, smiling politely and waving a hand towards the door. "Regardless of your qualifications and paid tuition, much like the Faunus' lost land, homes, businesses and property, I don't want you here in my class. So leave. Or would you prefer to stay in this, a class required for you t pass in order to be licensed?"

"I…"

"Do you want to leave?" Oobleck pressed, "Or, in spite of my wishing you gone right now personally, do you argue you have a right to be on a professional and legal basis?"

"I have a right to be here…"

"Yes, you do." Oobleck agreed simply, smiling like a parent would to a child on the cusp of learning a valuable lesson they'd thus far missed out on. "Just like every Faunus had a right to live, work and be, generally, in the Kingdoms. Hence the Faunus Rights Revolution, a fight for those basic rights that I encourage you to enjoy right now. Like the right to remain silent, particularly in fields of law but, today, in my classroom as well, Mister Winchester."

Feeling petulant, and sore from his arm, Jaune smirked when Cardin made to sit. And, with a flick of his foot, the chair across the room lifted and slide back silently, just far enough that Cardin fell with a loud thud. Laughter ensued, Jaune's joining the class', and the man clambered into his seat with a red face sour, pursed lips.

"Jaune!" Pyrrha whispered, knowing his 'Semblance' and scandalised but smiling nonetheless. Grinning ear to ear, the Mistralian leaned close and murmured, "You should behave, Jaune. You don't want detention with Doctor Oobleck, you'll be writing papers for a week."

He waved it off, the man was already moving on to discussing the first battle of the war, in Mistral. Instead, he turned slightly to look out of the corner of his eye at Blake, who was sending waves of emotion into the Force. Beside the woman, Yang sat, a hand on her forearm and lips moving as she said something Jaune couldn't here from across his own team and team RWBY both, the slight curve of the desk the only reason he could see Blake and Yang.

Something was going on there, though he wasn't sure whether or not he should care…

'It isn't like whatever is bothering Blake could affect me, really.' He finally decided, shrugging mentally and turning his attention back to class. Oobleck talked faster than bullets flew, so he'd need to pay attention to try and keep up properly.

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"I know, Kitty-Cat. Dust, believe me, I know, he's an ass like nothing else I've ever seen." Yang murmured, giving the other woman's forearm an affectionate squeeze before, now she'd calmed, letting her go and checking Ruby was being kept busy by Weiss. Satisfied, she gave Blake a look on her other side and grimaced at the woman's face, leaning close again and asking, "What's wrong?"

"You know what's wrong…" Blake answered and accused, giving her a sidelong glance.

Cardin was trashing the Faunus, and Blake wanted to stand up for them. But she couldn't make too big a show of it or she'd risk being found out for what she was, amd for whatever reasons Blake had, she did not want that. And while yang could think of any number of reasons, like Cardin's bullying, she'd not yet really figured out why Blake was hiding it from everyone in their circle of friends too. Hiding something big made some sense when you first met people, but now they'd known each other for a while, so she felt like Blake should open up a bit about it. Not just to her, but to her team and, maybe, her friends in Juniper too.

Then again, Yang had no experience with stuff like that except her one friend from Signal who'd hidden being gay for a while. Not exactly comparable, here, given the things Blake had alluded to going through. Her friend had just been shy, and felt weird, about that kind of stuff. Not wanted her female friends, Yang included, to think she was some horndog like most guys were. Blake, though?

Blake was scared of something.

"You know, if you wanted to, you could tell us what's going on." Blake's glance turned hard and sharp and Yang bumped her shoulder against her before she could speak, asking for a moment. Blake gave it and Yang explained, "If Weiss knew what was up, she'd back off. And if everyone knew, like, our teams I mean," she amended when Blake's brows rose, "if we all knew, then maybe things would be… Easier."

"I'm…" For a long moment, Yang thought Blake might agree. She chewed her lip and her gaze glazed over while she thought, fingers drumming on the wood and clicking the pen in her hand nervously. Finally, though, she dashed Yang's hopes. I'm not… Not ready, Yang. Not… Not yet."

"I understand." She didn't, really. But she'd accept it for Blake's sake, even if she didn't understand it at all. Hoping to be the bridge she drummed her fingers on the table and asked, low enough Weiss couldn't hear through Ruby's questions about the notes, "Well, if you can't tell them about it… Tell me?"

"I don't..."

"Nothing big! But you need to work on this, on trusting us I mean. We can't be a real team, do as well as we could, if you don't trust us." Yang rushed, patting Blake's arm a couple times and smiling gently, to show there was no anger in her words. "Just… Start small. Little things. Okay?"

"Okay, Yang… Okay." Blake nodded after almost a full minute of silence between them, the blonde's leg bouncing under the table anxiously while she tried to wait patiently. Seeing Yang's wide, bright smile, Blake added as quickly as she could, "It won't be anything major, but… I need to work on this, you're right about that."

Yang had learned really well from half-raising Ruby, though. You take your wins when you can get them, and never look a gift horse in the mouth.