Arclight Foundries

It took Jaune three days to get all the metal, Dust and extra supplies he needed in order to get his shop running, check all the equipment - because he was not going to trust his machines because they were 'factory fresh', thanks Dad - and then get his flyers up along the main boulevard. Ruby happily helped with those, though. Her Semblance apparently made moving around on her own really easy as long as she didn't have to carry anything insane. Which meant she couldn't run to get his metals, and her speed meant she couldn't run for Dust either, but he had guys that would deliver that for him anyways.

Still, he had to quell the jealousy that tried to flare up at what she was able to do what he could never hope to even try on his own. His conditions weren't her fault, and he wouldn't get upset because she was able to have a Semblance like that. It would be as unfair to her to do that as life had been to him.

The fourth and fifth days he spent stocking his shelves on one side with small Dust containers, meticulously labelled and carefully arranged with small blockers between each kind to prevent any reactions, and with examples of the more common rounds frequently used by Huntsmen. Which meant a large selection of high caliber rounds and a number of smaller caliber rounds employed by lighter arms like personal defense weapons and suppressive machineguns. As well as a handful of the concussive and explosive varieties of both, of course, for the customers that wanted that kind of thing. He didn't have every kind of round out, mostly because there were too many kinds of ammunition for him to even try, but that was fine.

That was why the sign above it advertising 'special orders at low cost' existed, just like the 'your armor displayed here' signs under the empty armor stands. That one, admittedly, was less likely to work unless someone else wanted to advertise in his shop and he let them for some reason.

His first day opening up fully had at least technically been the first Friday he was there, and he stayed open through the weekend, but no one came. Which made sense, as new as he was to the area and business as a whole. The majority of business would have also come from the Initiates heading into Beacon, and they would have probably stocked up before he actually opened up.

Which was a mistake on his part, but too late to worry about now so he'd just learn for the future.

On Monday, finally, his door opened under the power of someone who wasn't Jaune himself or Ruby. A young woman in a school uniform - probably Beacon's, if he recognised the insignia properly - with mildly long brown hair, soft eyes, and tall ears atop her head that drooped when she saw him, face looking strained and suddenly disappointed.

"U-Um…" She chewed her lip nervously, glancing at the rows of ammunition and Dust and scrunching her shoulder up anxiously while he leaned on the counter and pushed his rolling chair back. Her ears flicked once, then twice, and she asked, "D-Do you mind... Can I shop here?"

"Of course." Jaune answered after a second, eyes narrowing in confusion for just a moment before his eyes looked up at her ears. "Ah, that's right, you're a Faunus."

"I-I'll leave if you want, just don't yell at me, okay? I won't come back or anything, either, and-"

"N-No!" He practically squeaked, waving his hands in front of himself when she half-turned back to the door. A single hand reached for the knob, fingers grazing across its surface, but she stood still and stared at him with wide eyes, part fright and part something else Jaune couldn't recognize right away entirely.

And something in those eyes hurt something in him, the tears at the edge of her eyes pulling at his heart strings.

"I, uh, I don't care. About your ears, I mean, I think they're kinda cute actually." She blinked, and he did too, and then he chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. "That, uh, probably sounded creepy or somethin'. Sorry. Just, you know, you're welcome here. I'm just… Definitely one of the last people living on Remnant that gets to judge people for things they can't help."

"A-Are you a Faunus too?" She asked, and there was that spark of hope in her eyes again, a small smile tugging at her lips as she turned back to him. "But how did you manage to get your own shop in Vale, the people around here aren't-"

"No, I'm not a Faunus, I…" He paused, sudden anxiety clutching at his frail little heart, but he shook it off after a second. "I just know a few things about being born different, and let's leave it there, okay? I don't like to talk about it."

She blinked, thinking of white masks and problematic family histories and grudges so old no one knew where they started anymore, only that they involved extra parts and whether or not people had them.

And then she nodded understandingly as she approached the counter, "I can, you know… I can understand that, better than you might think actually. Being born different is… Hard. No matter what kind of 'different' you are. C-Can I, you know… I mean, if you're okay with it, can I ask if its… Biological or something more, you know, social?"

"What do you mean…?" She flushed, and something clicked in his head, and his face paled. "Biological! Yeah, no, uh, no 'social issues' here that I was born with! Not, you know, that there's anything wrong with that, I mean!" She chuckled, and he sighed, "I'm just gonna stop now, okay?"

"Okay." She parroted, standing awkwardly for a second with her hands on the counter. She drummed her fingers in a rhythm and hummed, biting her lip and then bobbing her head towards the ammunition, silently thanking him for meeting her eyes rather than anything north or south of them. "I, um, I was wondering what you can make outside of just bullets?"

"Ah, you want something custom?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling wide when she nodded nervously. Crossing his arms over his c.h.e.s.t and leaning against the wall behind him, he started to advise her on the house's rules around here, such as they were at least. "Normal rules, here. We'll talk about what you want to be made, I'll make up a few mock sketches of it, and half-pay for it is up front, or until it matches the supplies plus five percent for labor. Whichever comes first. If you don't like it, you don't pay the rest and it stays in the shop, probably goes on a shelf to whoever buys it. You don't want it, you don't get any say in that, it's mine. Good?"

"I-It sounds reasonable, yeah…" The young woman nodded, offering her hand suddenly to him, "I-I'm Velvet, by the way. Velvet Scarlatina. I, uh, don't think I ever introduced myself, and I was asking questions so it felt… Kinda rude, when I thought about it."

"Yeah, bad idea." He grimaced, looking at her hands, and she flinched. He blinked at the way her face fell and how her ears went a little more limp than they had been and blinked, "Oh, shit, Faunus. Uh, no, not racist, uh, just, you know," he held up his hands to her, stained by grease from a personal project he'd been fiddling with before he opened a few hours ago, "I didn't wash my hands, and yours are clean, so… Oil and… Stuff."

"Oh." She blinked, rolling her eyes after a second - a habit she blamed wholly on Coco - and reaching out to take a hand in spite of his protests. She gave it a shake while he made a face caught between shame, anxiety and something else, and she chuckled, "I'm a Huntress. Blood and grime is normal for me, a few little smudges aren't a problem."

"Ah." He looked at her hand, several smudges staining pale skin, and grimaced before he nodded. "I mean, it's your hand, after all, Miss Scarlatina so I guess- Why are you giggling at me and making a face like I made a bad joke?"

"Don't call me 'Miss' anything, please." She stifled the chuckle, but smiled at him nonetheless. "Faunus in Vale aren't treated well, Mister Arc, and when we meet someone who treats us how we deserve to be we consider them friends. I'd prefer it if you used my first name, rather than being so… Formal."

"Alright, Velvet then. And you can call me Jaune. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue and ladies love it, that's what my mom always said." He nodded, smiling slightly at her and returning to his chair when her face split in another smile and she had to fight a laugh, pulling a small table attached to it around in front of him like a desk and grabbing a pad and pen to write on while she covered her mouth to hide it. "Let's get started, shall we? Now, is this for you, or someone else?"

"M-Me, or um, both? Kind of? I guess?" He gave her a look and she sighed, "My partner, Coco, she wants me to get something to work as a backup weapon. My Semblance is… Kind of unwieldy, you know?"

"Not really, no." And she blinked at the bitterness there, and he saw her do it, but he moved on before she could say anything. If she would have said anything at all, that is, and from how shy she seemed to normally be he doubted that she actually would. "But secondaries can't hurt to, you know, have around. Better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it, right?"

"Like my Da' always said, yeah." Velvet agreed, leaning over the counter to look at the notepad. Jaune caught a glimpse of milky skin below her neck, the short blouse and what it covered falling victim to gravity, swallowing nervously as his pulse spiked and he avoided the view, staring down at his notepad while she adjusted her position. When he looked back, the skin was covered by her newly buttoned up blouse, and she was flushing slightly, "So, uh, you have ideas on the design, yeah?"

"Something basic, but modified to fit a Huntresses' needs." His fingers and hands moved rapidly with the pencil, sketching out a rough drawing of an Atlesian Makar sidearm, with a short iron barrel, and a wooden grip for the magazine to be inserted into. It was small, and fit only around a dozen smaller caliber rounds. Then he sketched a small, curved blade next to it, holding both up for her and pointing at the inside of the blade, "The Makar is decently accurate at short ranges, and the blade is attached to the front so you can slice and fire without many problems. It's cheap, too, and I can get one inside a day here in Vale."

"Is that sturdy enough, though?" She asked, anxiety and friendliness both gone as they slipped into different roles. Customer and store worker, a tale probably as old as 'boy meets girl' or 'Spruce Willis blows something up'. "I tend to brawl a bit, kicking and punching. I may not look it, but I hit hard. Will it hold up?"

"When I'm done with it, it won't break unless you strap a grenade to it or let an Ursa use it as a chew toy." He promised, drumming a finger on his chin as he thought, "Best I have on hand is Cold-Steel from Atlas, but if you want me to I can order Silvered-Steel or even Dust-enhanced Steel. With that, I can machine parts of it and reinforce it, or just replicate the gun itself with high-quality materials. That's all expensive, though."

"Do that, then." Velvet smirked, fishing a small card like Ruby's from a pocket. "After all, Coco is making me get it made, so she volunteered to pay for the whole nine. I'll pay for it all up front, too. Plus extra, to cover labor and a tip on top of that, too."

"Feeling vindictive, are we?" He asked, standing and laying the tablet on the counter while he took the card and moved over to his register at the corner of the counter, next to the wall. "You sure she won't care? I just opened, Velvet. If she disputes the charges or something, I won't be able to-"

"She, uh, she won't. Promise." Velvet chuckled awkwardly, following him to the register, "She's, you know, loaded. We all are, really, but she makes more than us. We're third years, and we take missions outside of school, sometimes through it too, and those pay really well even when Beacon gives us help."

"Oh?" He commented only partially distractedly, punching in numbers and running calculations through his head.

"Yeah." She sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter a hand resting against her side, "They're all off on one now, actually. I got hurt on the last one, because I couldn't do anything when a bunch of… Jerks started shooting at us. S'why Coco wants me to get something to protect myself."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, 'm fine." She shrugged, her hand falling away, "I healed up fine, and just needed some time off to make sure nothing went wrong. Bullet didn't damage anything important."

"It damaged you." He pointed out, giving her a glance when she turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow almost as though challenging her to argue with his point. "Coco probably agrees that you are pretty damn important. You're a nice person, you shouldn't undervalue what that means."

"I don't, I just…" She chuckled, mostly to herself he thought, and turned back towards the shelves, "You sound like her. Just because I don't stress over what happened doesn't mean that I don't care about it."

"I'm not questioning you, Velvet. Just, you know… Talking, I guess, but I don't mean anything by it." He assured her, and he genuinely meant it even if she shrugged unsurely at the statement.

The silence that followed was awkward for several minutes while he worked, the sound of cars outside, the distant blares of ship-mounted horns, and the gentle cl.i.c.k.i.n.g of his register accepting commands. After a moment, though, Velvet started humming a tune and Jaune relaxed, knowing he hadn't offended her or anything, and the mood warmed into something more comfortable. Simply working in silence, and enjoying a person's company while he did so.

Not a bad way to pass time, he decided after a few more minutes of it.

Soon enough he finished, handing her a receipt to look over and then submitting the charges when she okayed it. She signed a few things for his record-keeping, submitted her Beacon I.D., and then left with a small wave.

So he plopped back into his chair, rested a foot on his knee, and started ordering the supplies he'd need.

XxX----XxX----XxX

The workweek passed by quick enough while he prepped for his first real project since he opened up the shop, supplies for his projects trickling in - personal, Velvet's, or things to put on his shelves all together - before anyone else stopped by.

"Hi, Jaune!" Ruby called when he came down the stairs at the sound of his door's bell ringing gently, sounding excited but… Almost subdued, too, in a weird way that made him anxious and worried. She was wearing a uniform, and when he asked about it she seemed to brighten, "I passed Initiation into Beacon! I'm, like, one of the youngest girls ever to get in, and I'm my team's leader, and that's got to be history too."

"Technically, everything is history." Jaune joked, leaning against the cage around his stairs and looking at her with a small smile. She pouted and he chuckled, "Relax, I'm teasing you, that's all. I'm impressed."

"I know you are." She joked back, looking around at the shelves as she made her way to the counter, dropping her bag behind the counter and stretching, "Man, riding the Bullhead in like that is a pain in the tooshie."

"Sorry to hear that." He grimaced sympathetically, and she shrugged uncaringly and let out a breath as her arms stretched above her head towards the sky, on tiptoes to maximize the stretching. "Are you here for ammo again so soon? I didn't think you'd need more at least for a little while after Initiation."

"No." She froze, mouth making an 'o' shape as she thought, and then added, "Uh, well, I mean if you don't mind selling me some Dust, I might make some more for myself, if you don't mind."

"Sure." He shrugged, "A sale's a sale, and I have some design drafting work to do and bullets that need to be stocked if you want a discount."

"That sounds perfect." Ruby nodded, "But I didn't, you know, come for that. I offered to work here part-time, and here," she gestured at her backpack with a wave of her hand, "is the paperwork you have to sign. I already signed my name, and Miss Goodwitch signed off on it too as long as I can do homework and stuff when we aren't, you know, too busy for you to have me hanging out upstairs working on a paper or something."

"Seems fine to me." He nodded, moving over to his chair again and plopping down tiredly, mind full of inventory and design ideas. Or, well, more so than usual if nothing else. He held out his hand and she fished out a small, black folder with the Beacon sigil on the front, emblazoned in silver and edged in official red with a pen attached to the top of the spine by a thin strand of silver, and he whistled at it, "What is this, some kind of fancy 'Beacon official folder' or something?"

"U-Um, yeah, actually." Ruby answered, rubbing the back of her neck anxiously. "Beacon uses them for mission reports, doc.u.ments, that sort of stuff. So they look really nice, and official since they… Are."

"Makes sense, I guess. They could definitely afford fancy… Everything, so I guess it makes sense. Probably makes a point of how prestigious the school is or something." He grabbed his pad and paper, jotted out a list of round types he needed, and ripped the page off to hand to her. "I can fill this out if you don't mind getting started on this? Maybe organize the supplies, take inventory, or something? And find me a place where I can put my copies of these so that they won't get damaged? I'll buy a filing cabinet or something later."

The rest of the day and evening were filled with paperwork and bullet inspections after that, in a comfortable silence that Jaune enjoyed more than he had thought he would.

Ruby worked hard at the jobs he gave her, organizing metal according to everything from weight to type and alphabetical order. Her rounds were top-notch, with only two out of two hundred in any way presenting flaws, minor sealing problems around the end-caps where the firing striker would ignite the round's propellant. Very common problems, and she matched Jaune himself with the success to loss ratio on her rounds. So he didn't chastise her, simply tossing the useless rounds into a safe bin - made specifically for the job, with thick sides and a locking lid in case the Dust went off, and even a built-in fire-alarm to let him know if something happened - and they got to work on replacing the missing rounds for the stocking order.

She wasn't as good at inventory, though, he noted fairly quickly. Too much simple counting, he wagered, so he took the job himself when he handed her the Beacon Folder back and joined her in working until she settled into his chair downstairs to watch the door and work on some homework while he worked on designing Velvet's order.

His first ever custom order, and Gods if that didn't draw a smile. Even if the excitement of it was somewhat tempered by his concern over Ruby's mood. He thought to ask her about it, but…

If she wanted to talk to him about whatever it was, then she'd come to him about it. He had to trust her, treat her like an a.d.u.l.t, and let her handle whatever it was herself. Hopefully, it would solve itself soon.