Glider Test
If Ruby Rose had to list the funniest things she had ever witnessed in her entire life, this moment would easily crack the top five.
Maybe even top three.
Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR, first buddy in Beacon, occasional disaster, full-time enabler of her worst ideas as of late — was currently buried face-first in a crater at the base of Emerald Forest.
A crater that he had made.
With his face.
Most of their class, standing on the edge of the cliff, were howling with laughter.
“OH MY GODS,” Cardin wheezed, clutching his stomach. “THAT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN!”
Dove wiped tears from his eyes. “I—I can’t breathe—!”
“That impact was glorious,” Sky added between laughs.
Even Yang, Yang, who oddly played the ‘supportive-ish’ role in Jaune’s dumb stunts as of late, was doubled over, tears streaming down her face. “H-he just—he dropped—” She slapped Blake’s shoulder, who—despite her best efforts—was absolutely hiding a smirk behind her book.
Ren and Pyrrha stood a little farther back, the former pinching the bridge of his nose while the latter had a deeply concerned yet tired expression.
And then, there was Glynda Goodwitch.
Standing at the front of the group.
Nursing a massive headache.
She exhaled slowly before pinching the bridge of her nose, muttering something along the lines of, “I do not get paid enough for this.”
Then, with a simple flick of her riding crop, her Telekinesis activated—ripping Jaune’s sorry form from the ground and hoisting him back up onto the cliffside like a limp ragdoll.
Jaune dangled mid-air for a moment before Glynda unceremoniously dropped him onto the grass.
He groaned. “Ow.“
Glynda took another slow breath before asking, very patiently, “Mister Arc. Would you care to explain what exactly you were thinking?“
Jaune groaned again before sitting up, rubbing the dirt out of his face. “Uh. Well…”
Everyone waited.
Jaune sighed, rolling his shoulders. “So, funny story—I kinda forgot that my shield’s glider function isn’t here.”
Silence.
Glynda’s eye twitched. “…You forgot.”
“Yup.” Jaune nodded. “It just sorta hit me—y’know, mid-fall—”
“Literally,” Nora snorted.
“—that I did not, in fact, have a glider. So I just kinda accepted my fate.”
There was another long pause.
Then Ruby—who had been holding it in for so long—snorted.
Loudly.
She immediately slapped both hands over her mouth, but it was too late.
Glynda’s glare turned immediately to her.
“Miss Rose.”
Ruby stiffened. “Hhrrk!“
Glynda did not say anything else—she just stared.
Ruby let out a muffled, “Sorry,” before going completely silent.
The laughter from the rest of the class had mostly died down now—mostly because they were too busy waiting to see what happened next.
Glynda turned her glare back to Jaune. “And where, Mister Arc, is this supposed glider of yours?“
Jaune blinked. Then frowned. Then tilted his head, rubbing his chin in thought.
“…I think I left it in Vacuo during my secret training?”
Silence.
For exactly three seconds.
Then Yang, bless her, let out a single wheeze before clapping a hand over her mouth.
Ruby snorted again.
Blake coughed suspiciously into her book.
Even Weiss let out a very, very small noise that might have been a laugh.
Glynda closed her eyes. Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Then, very calmly, she gestured to the ground. “Mister Arc. Sit down. And be quiet.“
Jaune, recognizing that tone, immediately sat cross-legged on the ground, back straight, like a well-behaved old man at a bus stop.
“Yes, ma’am.“
The sight was so profoundly stupid that Ruby actually choked.
Yang, at this point, had given up trying to suppress her laughter and was cackling openly.
Nora, ever the agent of chaos, plopped down next to Jaune, mimicking his posture. “I too, shall be quiet,” she declared, completely deadpan.
Weiss groaned, rubbing her temples at the silliness.
Glynda, looking one moment away from snapping, took a deep breath and turned on her heel. “We are moving on. Everyone else, back to formation.“
Jaune remained perfectly still. “I am already in peak form.”
“Mister Arc.“
“Right. Sorry.” He scrambled up to his feet, brushing himself off.
Glynda rubbed her temples harder. “Let’s continue before I lose my patience entirely.“
And with that, the lesson resumed.
But for the rest of the day, every time someone even glanced at Jaune, they started laughing again.
“Alright, Jaune, listen up,” Ruby said, adjusting her goggles like a true professional. “We are on a mission.”
Jaune, still brushing dirt off his armor from the whole crater incident, sighed. “Let me guess. A completely legal and totally authorized mission?“
Ruby grinned. “Nope! A slightly illegal and possibly expellable mission.”
Jaune groaned. “Of course it is.”
Their goal? Upgrade Jaune’s shield with an actual working glider and finally build that sword-sword thing he wouldn’t shut up about.
Naturally, this meant breaking into—ahem—visiting the Engineering Wing of Beacon, the one place where every genius weapon nerd (and some unhinged lunatics) gathered to tinker with their babies.
They got about five steps into the wing before an exhausted-looking staff member immediately scolded them.
“NO.” the professor snapped, pointing at them with a wrench. “Not you two. I don’t trust you. I don’t trust your plans. I don’t trust your LIFE DECISIONS. Turn around. Right now.“
Ruby put on her best innocent smile. “Awww, c’mon! It’s for Jaune’s shield! It’s a safety improvement!”
The professor narrowed his eyes. “You mean the same shield he forgot he didn’t have before dropping off a cliff like an absolute moron?”
Jaune winced. “I… would like to not focus on that part.”
The professor sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. You can use one of the workbenches—but if you two so much as think about blowing something up, you’re both banned for life.”
“Promise!” Ruby saluted.
Jaune nodded solemnly. “I make no such promise.”
The professor groaned.
And with that, they were in.
Once they were settled at a workbench, Ruby pulled up some blueprints while Jaune started sketching out ideas for his glider.
At first, Ruby didn’t think much of it.
Then she actually looked at his notes.
And paused.
“…Jaune?” she asked, squinting at the suspiciously well-thought-out schematics.
Jaune hummed, still sketching. “Yeah?”
“This is detailed.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Like… too detailed.”
Jaune shrugged, erasing a line and adjusting the wing structure. “I mean, I’ve used a glider before.”
Ruby froze.
“Used a glider?”
Jaune blinked. “Yeah?”
“Jaune,” Ruby turned to him. “You do not own a glider.“
Jaune paused. “Currently.“
“You have never owned a glider.“
Jaune squinted at her. “…That you know of.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes.
Jaune squinted harder.
Ruby squinted back.
A long silence passed.
Then Jaune coughed and quickly changed the subject. “A-anyway! While you work on that, I need a sword-sword.”
Ruby frowned. “You mean… a second sword?”
Jaune shook his head. “No. A sword that turns into a bigger sword.”
Ruby’s brain stalled. “So… a sword-sword.”
“Exactly!” Jaune grinned. “I want it to be, like, bam, normal sword—and then bam, bigger sword using the sheath!”
Ruby sighed, rubbing her temples. “Jaune. You want a sword that becomes a bigger sword.”
“Yes.”
Ruby sighed deeper. “Okay, fine. I’ll see what we can do.”
Jaune grinned. “I appreciate you, Ruby.”
“Yeah, yeah.“ Ruby waved him off. “But we’re definitely borrowing materials from storage.”
Jaune smirked. “Borrowing?”
Ruby grinned. “Borrowing.”
Jaune nodded solemnly. “Ah. Of course. Borrowing.“
As Ruby got to work, she slowly became aware of something weird.
Jaune was inspecting Crescent Rose.
At first, she didn’t think anything of it. She figured he was just admiring her beautiful, deadly, perfectly crafted baby.
But then—
He started handling it like he had done it a thousand times before.
Not just holding it. Checking it.
He spun it in his grip, flipped it to sniper mode, checked the trigger, adjusted the locking mechanism—like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Ruby’s hands froze over her work.
Jaune tested the weight, rolled his shoulders, then smoothly switched Crescent Rose back into scythe mode.
Finally, Ruby couldn’t take it anymore.
“Okay—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!“
Jaune blinked. “…Holding Crescent Rose?”
“Like you’ve done it before!“
Jaune paused. Then slowly shrugged. “Uh. Maybe I just get it?”
“GET IT?!“ Ruby threw her hands up. “Jaune, you handle your own sword like a club before Pyrrha trained you and you went to your secret training, and now you’re suddenly all ‘Oh look at me, I’m Mister Fancy Crescent Rose Expert’!?”
Jaune raised an eyebrow. “Okay, first off—rude.”
Ruby glared.
Jaune sighed, setting Crescent Rose down. “Okay, fine. You wanna know what I think?”
“Yes!“
Jaune hummed, leaning on the workbench. “You should add a trigger in the upper handle that rotates the scythe’s blade 180 degrees.“
Ruby paused. “Uh…What?“
Jaune gestured. “So you can attack from both sides. Right now, Crescent Rose only swings in one direction, but if you add a rotating mechanism, you could switch mid-attack—it’d basically be a war scythe mode.”
Ruby’s brain processed this.
And, annoyingly, it processed that…
Oh. It was actually a good idea.
“…Okay, that’s not bad.“
Jaune smirked. “Told you.”
Ruby narrowed her eyes. “Okay. Who are you?”
Jaune laughed. “C’mon, Ruby. It’s me! Good ol’ Jaune Arc!”
Ruby kept staring at him.
Jaune smiled.
Ruby squinted harder.
Jaune squinted back.
More silence.
Then, slowly, Ruby turned back to Crescent Rose, muttering under her breath as she worked on the shield-glider thingy.
Blake Belladonna was not supposed to be here.
She had no part in this. She did not sign up for another one of Jaune and Ruby’s incredibly stupid, borderline-illegal ideas as of late.
And yet—
Here she was.
At the highest point of Beacon.
With Ruby Rose practically vibrating with excitement.
And Jaune Arc—standing at the edge, doing stretches like he wasn’t about to commit another dumbest thing she’d had to witnessed.
Blake sighed, crossing her arms. “Okay. Explain this nonsense to me one more time.“
Ruby grinned. “Jaune’s got a glider now!“
Jaune gave her a thumbs-up. “It’s gonna be great!“
Blake stared. “I highly doubt that.”
Ruby waved off her concerns. “Oh, come on, Blake! This is science!”
“This is lunacy,” Blake corrected.
Ruby ignored her. “We already tested the mechanism. It works!”
Blake slowly turned to Jaune. “Does it really work?”
Jaune smirked. “Absolutely.“
Blake frowned. “…That was way too confident. Now I’m worried.”
Jaune adjusted his straps, taking a deep breath. “Alright, testing phase: Glider Deployment!“
Blake pinched the bridge of her nose. “You’re actually doing this.“
Jaune nodded. “Yup.“
Ruby beamed. “Yup!“
Blake sighed.
Jaune gave her a salute. “See you on the other side!”
And then he ran forward.
Took a leap—
And activated the glider.
For exactly three glorious seconds.
It worked.
Jaune caught air, soaring above Beacon, the shield-glider holding up perfectly—
Then he just dropped like a rock.
Blake’s ears flattened. “Oh no.“
Jaune plummeted like a damn arrow—
“OH, COME ON!” he shouted mid-fall.
Then—
CRASH.
Right into the cafeteria.
There was a moment of silence.
Then—
Screaming.
Ruby and Blake immediately ducked behind cover.
Jaune, groaning, was dragged out of the wreckage by Goodwitch’s Telekinesis.
Glynda stood there, visibly vibrating with rage, rubbing her temples so hard it was a wonder they weren’t bruised.
“Mister. Arc.“
Jaune raised a hand weakly. “Hey, professor…I must say you're really beautiful even when you're angry..“
“Not. A. Word.“
Jaune immediately shut up.
Ruby peeked out, wincing. “Ohhh… that’s not good.“
Blake looked at her. “… Ruby, he just went through a building and splashed soup on Miss Goodwitch.“
“Eh, potato-potatoe, but the glider did work!“ Ruby whispered back.
Blake looked at her like she had lost her mind. “He fell through a building.... and on soup.“
“Yeah, but it worked for, like, three seconds!“ Ruby insisted.
Blake rubbed her temples. “Why did he drop like that?“
Ruby bit her lip. “Uh… sooo… funny thing?“
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “What.“
“Hardlight Dust is kinda… expensive?“
Blake stared. “And?“
“And, uh… we kinda had to compensate with… you know… Lightning and Gravity Dust.“
Blake took a slow, very deep breath. “So let me get this straight. You made Jaune a glider… but it didn’t have enough Hardlight to actually support his weight… so you tried to make up for it with Gravity Dust?”
Ruby smiled awkwardly. “Y-yeah?“
Blake buried her face in her hands.
Jaune, meanwhile, was currently receiving a long, drawn-out lecture from Goodwitch.
“—reckless, irresponsible, absolutely inexcusable! Do you have ANY idea how dangerous that was?!“
Jaune, standing perfectly still like a scolded child, simply nodded. “Yes, ma’am.“
“And you!“ Goodwitch turned to the cafeteria staff, who were still picking up remnants of food trays. “You were ENCOURAGING him?“
Cardin, who had clearly been cheering, immediately shut up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.“
Goodwitch’s glare intensified.
“Mister Arc.“
Jaune braced himself. “Yes?“
“Do I even need to ask who was involved in this?“
Jaune blinked. Then, to Ruby’s absolute shock—
He didn’t snitch.
“Uh… no, ma’am.“ Jaune shrugged. “Just my own dumb decision, as always.“
Ruby froze.
Blake slowly turned to her. “Why do you look guilty?“
Ruby shifted uncomfortably. “I mean… he’s taking all the blame?“
Blake crossed her arms. “Maybe because he’s used to you doing this to him?“
Ruby winced.
Meanwhile, Goodwitch sighed deeply. “Mister Arc. You are officially on your FINAL warning. If I so much as SEE YOU DO THIS AGAIN—“
Jaune nodded rapidly. “Understood. I’ll stick to the ground. Love the ground. Big ground fan.“
Goodwitch massaged her temples. “Sit down. Be quiet.“
Jaune immediately sat down in the nearest seat like an obedient dog.
Ruby covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Blake sighed. “You’re totally fixing the glider, right?“
“Yup.”
Blake stared at her. “…You’re never going to stop, are you?“
Ruby beamed. “Nope!“