World Weary

Paint It, Black

His eyes remained closed, yet the sweet blissful embrace of sleep filled nothingness refused to claim him, even with the assistance of the medication he had taken. The airship rocked, causing his stomach to lurch once more. The quiet turning of the book pages at his side further blocked him from succumbing to slumber.

Jaune sighed deeply as he opened his eyes, words freely escaping his lips without a modicum of thought.

"God, I should just throw myself overboard at this point. I thought the allergy medicine would work."

The turning of pages momentarily stopped as Blake briefly glanced at him from behind her book.

"The drowsiness from the medicine isn't instant. Give it a few minutes. That or do a flip, I guess," Blake spoke dryly.

Jaune grinned, "Can do."

He rose his right hand, his middle finger rising as the rest of his fingers curled.

Blake glanced at him, her gaze falling upon his right hand, "Woah. Amazing display. Charming. Ten out of ten," her voice was laced with heavy amounts of sarcasm.

"Thank you! I'll be here all semester! Probably..." He lazily bowed his head as he lowered his right hand back into his lap.

Blake hummed, her attention returning to the book she was reading, "How confident, Mr. Runaway. Afraid your best won't be enough for Beacon? You have been getting combat practice in, right?"

Somehow, he doubted she would consider him getting into fights with boxes he was trying to shove into the baler at work would count as combat practice.

He deflected the best way he knew how, with an insane amount of cringe, "I've been battling my inner demons every day."

Jaune did his best to look entirely serious as he spoke, even as he internally died at his own words.

Blake lowered her book, her attention fully on him. Her lip minutely twitched. A moment passed, Jaune continued to present her with a false facade of seriousness on his face. Blake lost her composure, the small twitch of her lips turning into quiet giggles as she rushed to cover her mouth with her hand. Jaune's composure similarly broke, as his false visage of seriousness was replaced with a grin.

Blake removed her hand from her mouth after a few stifled laughs, "Congratulations, Jaune. That was by far one of the worst things I have ever heard in my life. For your sake, I hope you put in just as much effort into your combat practice as your comedy routine."

"Thanks, I try. I think I'll be fine at Beacon. What's the worst that can happen?"

Blake rose her brow as if she was questioning his sanity, "Crippling injuries? Loss of limbs? Being ripped apart by Grimm?"

Jaune shrugged, "Two of those can be solved with disability pay for life. The third wouldn't be my mess to clean up because I'd be dead. Would suck for the clean-up crew though. Maintenance doesn't get paid enough for the shit they have to deal with."

"Such an optimist. If only I could be such a glorious beacon of positivity," Blake said monotonously.

"That's reality. Do or die."

Blake sighed, "Die, in your case. Especially, if you make it a habit to only get three hours of sleep. Look, I can give you some tips or spar with you if you need to refresh on the basics. You're not that out of practice, right?"

Jaune happily smiled, "Let's assume I've been so lazy that I'm practically a novice again!"

Blake looked astonished by his answer, "God, maybe you should just toss yourself overboard. It would be a far more merciful way to go than falling to a horde of Grimm."