I had several moments of not really wanting to work on my NaNoWriMo story this week, and just wanting to write something dumb. This is the result.

I don't really have any plans to continue this, but maybe I'll toss an extra chapter here or there if I feel like it.

Inspirations are from Kung Fu Hustle, but also, I suppose, every other trope of a drunken kung-fu master. It's a common enough theme.

Chapter 1

Yang wasn't sure what to make of the man that stumbled over, collapsed onto all fours and threw up over her boots. He'd apologised, which didn't do a lot for her mood, but then he'd also swayed perilously when he stood up, almost bending over backward in a valiant effort to stay upright that only ended when Yang lashed out and caught his collar to steady him. Up close like that, she could smell the alcohol on him.

"Are you drunk?"

"What!?" slurred the boy. Blonde hair, messy; blue eyes, misty; he looked like he'd just crawled out a club; he smelled like cheap beer, whiskey, and cocktails. "Me!? No. Noooo. N-No ways. Eheh."

Despite the vomit, she managed a tiny smile. It wasn't like she hadn't celebrated her acceptance to Beacon with her friends back home, getting smashed, singing terrible songs, and getting told off by her dad for being found curled up in the dog bed in the morning with Zwei angrily smacking his paws against her back to get her to move. It looked like this guy had just decided to keep the party going a little longer, all the way up to the first day of Beacon. Ballsy. Probably also a bad idea, but definitely ballsy.

"You sure sound drunk. You look drunk too."

"Y-Yeah, well…" He thought long and hard for an insult, little hamster wheels spinning behind his eyes before he pointed down. "You have puke on your shoes. At least I'm clean."

There went her smile. "You're the one who puked on them."

He looked affronted. Offended, even. "I did not!"

"Yes, you did."

"I think I would remember that." He slurred, and swayed, and probably would have toppled right over if not for her holding him up. "I… I think? Kinda struggling to remember much. Where am I again?"

"You're on a Bullhead on your way to Beacon."

"Is that a club?"

"No. It's a school. You know, huntsmen and huntresses? Ringing any bells?" He looked clueless, and Yang burst out laughing. "Oh my god, don't tell me you're on here by mistake." That was too crazy, and too damn funny. "No way. Hey Ruby, this guy just-"

It turned out that holding onto someone who had previously thrown up was a poor idea, especially in an enclosed space in a vehicle moving not-so-smoothly through the air, and with said man standing not-so-smoothly on his own feet. Before she could even finish her sentiment, the drunk burped, gulped and hurled chunks over her arm.

Yang screamed and decked him in the face.

/-/

Ruby wasn't sure what to make of the man that had thrown up over her sister twice and got punched in the face for it. On the one hand, she knew her sister tended to overreact and get physical when she shouldn't, but on the other she'd let the first instance of puke on her shoes go, which was pretty darn patient for Yang. She wasn't sure anyone would hold it against her for losing cool on the second, especially with someone else's puke on your skin.

Thoughts of the drunken lush took a back seat in her mind when she bumped into an irate girl in white and caused an explosion, then almost got dragged into another argument as a girl in white and black came out and started trading barbs with the other. Ruby just wanted them to stop and leave so she could curl into a ball and curse Yang to oblivion for abandoning her, thank you very much, and not have to deal with this. Luckily, they left, one in a huff and the other with a mysterious flick of her hair. Ruby swayed and collapsed onto the ground.

"You too, huh?"

Ruby blinked and looked around, unsure where the voice was coming from until she felt something touching her arm and looked to her right. The boy from earlier was laid out on the ground next to her, also in something of a starfish position with arms and legs spread, but with his head so close to hers their cheeks were almost touching. Ruby hadn't even heard him approach, let alone lay down.

"How did you get here?"

"My mom is, like, super horny and my dad is the worst purchaser of condoms ever seen."

Ruby blushed. "I meant on the floor next to me."

"Oh. I was already there."

"You were already there?" She wasn't sure if she should challenge that or not. "Were you looking up my skirt?"

He blinked at her, tilting his own head so they were face to face. "You're wearing a skirt?"

Ruby stared back at him. "Can you even see me?"

"Sure. You're, like, a reddish blur in a world of blurs."

Okay, so the man was so drunk he couldn't see straight and certainly not up her skirt. Ruby let it go even when she knew Yang wouldn't have. She giggled, reminded suddenly of Qrow, but her age and looking more like dad. "I'm Ruby."

"Hey."

Ruby waited.

He stared at her.

"You're supposed to introduce yourself now."

"Oh," said the boy. "I'm Ruby."

Ruby giggled. "That's my name."

"Is it? Ugh…"

"Do you even remember your name?"

"Yeah, course." He fumbled with his pocket, spilled out several cans of booze and then an ID, then held it up in front of his face. He blinked, stared, and brought it closer and closer until he was practically pressing it against his corneas.

Even then, he struggled. Ruby snatched it and read. "You're Jaune."

"Oh yeah! That's it." He hiccupped. "Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, uh… something about my tongue. Or your tongue." Her cheeks flooded bright pink. "Nice to mee you." Ruby nervously giggled back; she wasn't sure what to make of him, either as a person or a huntsman, but he was at least harmless and friendly. "What you upset about anyway?"

"Didn't you just see what happened? Didn't you hear the fight?"

He blinked dumbly at her. "There was a fight?"

"The explosion!"

"Huh." He brushed some lingering dust off his face. "I wondered what that was."

"That was me making an idiot of myself and exploding," she groaned.

"That your Semblance? Cool. Mine is that I drink, and stuff happens."

It was a Semblance? Ruby had just assumed he was a lush like Uncle Qrow. Then again, he still might be, and was just living in denial. "My Semblance isn't explosions. I can run fast." Ruby sat up and then stood, then waited for him to do the same. He didn't, prompting her to extend a hand that he took, shook, and released. Ruby gigged again. "I'm trying to help you stand up!"

"Oh." This time, he let her pull him up onto his feet, only stumbling a little before righting himself. "Thanks. Uh. What are we doing?"

"We're headed to Beacon to start out careers there."

"I got a job!?" Jaune whined unhappily. "Aw man, I'm drunk on my first day of work. I'm so gonna get fired. I mean, I'm always drunk, so not sure how I got hired either, but still. Panic!"

"It's not a job. We're at a school. We're going to learn to be huntsmen." Ruby watched the cogs turn behind his eyes, and almost imagined she could see the exact moment they sprung off the machine and clattered to the floor. "Do you remember signing up for Beacon?"

"No."

Somehow, that didn't surprise her. Nor, she imagined, was it an unusual state of being for her new… friend? Could he be called a friend if he was drunk out his mind and only partially participating in the conversation? Ruby didn't know.

"So," she said, and defaulted to her tried and tested friend-making approach. "I have this."

Crescent Rose came out, as beautiful and perfect as she had ever been, and polished to a near shine. Yang always said she couldn't make friends by wowing them with her weapon, but Yang was a philistine who didn't understand how much of a person's heart and soul went into their weapon, so her opinion didn't matter. Jaune would surely be-

Clink. Ka-clink. Hssss.

The tiny little bronze bottle cap dangled from the tip of Crescent Rose's blade as Jaune tipped back the bottle and drank. "Thanks. I needed that."

"CRESCENT ROSE IS NOT A BOTTLE OPENER!"

He swayed drunkenly. "I mean… anything is a bottle opener if you try hard enough…"

Ruby Rose stormed away, her mind made up.

Jaune was the worst!

/-/

Blake wasn't sure what to make of Beacon in general; so far it had been a mixed experience of vomit, a Schnee failing to die when she was blown up, and then stepping in to defend a small child from said bitch, all the while wondering why a guy was slumped out on the floor. It hadn't gotten all that much clearer since then, especially not with the rather odd speech by the headmaster that, in Blake's mind, was not nearly as brief as he claimed it would be.

"Excuse me!" shouted someone at the back. Blake, with the rest of the audience, turned to look. The raised hand was swaying left and right like someone at a festival, and the figure holding it up wasn't doing much better. He had a beer bottle in his other hand. "I think I'm in the wrong place."

On the stage, Headmaster Ozpin sighed. "You are not in the wrong place, Mr Arc."

"Yeah, see, but, like, two people-shaped blurs have told me this is a school." He cupped his hand around his mouth to stage-whisper, "A school for huntsmen and huntresses."

There were a few laughs.

Ozpin was not among them. "That is true, yes."

"What? But I don't remember signing up for this."

"Mr Arc, I was there when you signed up. I handed you the form myself. You signed it."

The man, Arc apparently, paused to think. "I don't remember that."

"Given your current state of inebriation, Mr Arc, I'm not sure you are capable of remembering your own name, let alone events beyond fifteen seconds ago."

"H…Hey. You leave my inebriation out of this. She didn't do nothing to you." The finger he pointed was presumably meant for Ozpin but was instead aimed right at the face of Weiss Schnee. Blake snickered at the gobsmacked look on the girl's face.

"I am over here, Mr Arc," said the headmaster, patiently.

"Huh." The drunk looked, blinked, and asked, "Who are you again?"

"Headmaster Ozpin." Still patient, still smiling. "Your new headmaster at Beacon Academy. The school you signed up for after helping to stop an attack on a young woman in a forest. Do you remember that?"

"Uhhh…"

"Amber?"

"Uhh…."

The headmaster sighed. "Horse lady."

"Horse lady!" cried the drunken boy. "Oh shit, I do remember. How is she?"

"Alive, Mr Arc, thanks to you."

"Cool. Cool. She still… like… horsing around? That's good. A-And what about the other three? Her friends."

"Mr Arc, they were her attackers. The ones you helped to…" He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Never mind. Just… stay in this room until tomorrow."

"Will there be booze in this room?"

It was the other teacher, Miss Goodwitch, who answered. "There most certainly will not be!"

"Cool. Okay. So, like, that's a deal-breaker for me right there." The boy performed a remarkably graceful pirouette and started walking away. "Buh-bye now."

His attempts to leave might have been more successful had he noticed the door and not walked into it, bouncing off with a meaty thwack and knocking himself out. He slumped to the floor, twitched once, and then began to snore. Everyone else – teachers included – shrugged and decided it would be easier to go about their business as if the last few minutes had never happened.

Beacon, Blake decided, was weird.

/-/

Weiss knew exactly what her opinion of the drunken lout that dared stick his finger in her face was!

He was a disgrace!

He was a disgrace, a drunkard and he had made a scene in an important moment of her career – of all their careers, really, but Weiss' career was more important than everyone else's. Obviously. People would look back on this moment in the history books and would now have to learn about a worthless drunk. He had interrupted the good headmaster at the apex of his speech and made a fool of himself, turning what should have been an important moment into a sideshow carnival.

All those things were enough to earn her ire on their own but wouldn't have been enough to force her to interact with him. He was a fool, but the world was filled with fools, and it wasn't her plan to spend any time dealing with them if she could help it. He could be someone else's problem. Her immediate issue was finding a suitable partner for herself and forming an equally suitable team. To that end, Pyrrha Nikos stood out as the best choice, and Weiss had the pleasure of catching her by the lockers that morning.

"-and I was thinking that you and I might make a good team," said Weiss.

"That's nice and all," said Pyrrha. "But I was thinking of letting the chips fall as they may-"

No. No. Not a good idea. Not with idiots around like that stupid child of a girl, the uppity one with the bow and the drunken lout. "I understand the sentiment, but do you really want to leave the next four years to chance when it might mean-"

Weiss paused, finger raised, as something went between the two of them. It didn't just step in and pause to interrupt or introduce itself, even though the lockers were to her left. Instead, it went by, slammed into the lockers, splatted against them, bounced back, and collapsed in a heap between their feet.

Weiss Schnee was not someone used to being interrupted, nor was she someone who was used to standing with her mouth ajar, frozen in shock, but that was the situation she found herself in.

It wasn't her finest morning.

"Do you mind?" asked Weiss, of the unmoving heap. It looked familiar, in so far as a lump of clothing, armour and denim jeans could be. Her eyes narrowed as a sinking suspicion settled on her. "You must be joking. Weren't you drunk yesterday? How are you still drunk?"

If nothing else, he should have slept it off by now.

The boy looked up at her – or them – with a drunken smile and misty eyes. "Oh hey," he said, voice slurring worse than her mother after a heavy evening of wine. "Do you realise you're upside down?"

Pyrrha Nikos giggled.

Weiss did not. "I am the correct way up. You are the one who is upside down."

"Huh?" The boy rolled over, then staggered to his feet. "Huh. Wow. You're right." He looked at Pyrrha, tilted his head dumbly to the side and said, "Hello. I'm Jaune. Or Arc. Or maybe even both. Whoah, that's trippy. I have, like, two names." He held up three fingers. "Two names!"

"Hello," replied Pyrrha, waving awkwardly at him. "I'm Pyrrha. Um. Are you still drunk since last night?"

"I have a very determined liver."

"It doesn't seem to be working." snarked Weiss.

"I didn't say it was determined to do a good job." He swayed, and caught himself on the nearby lockers, then tried to make it look natural by balancing on one leg, and nearly tripped himself up. He slumped against the metal and gave up, hanging there with his cheek squashed up against the locker door. "A-Anyway, I'm lost. I-I'm looking for the way out. Did you know this is a school for huntsmen and huntresses?"

"Yes," seethed Weiss. "I did. We all do. You do as well – Headmaster Ozpin told you as much last night." He didn't seem to register that, and Weiss' temper boiled over. "Do you have any idea who I am?"

"No."

"I am-"

"Why? Don't you know who you are?"

Weiss was gobsmacked.

Jaune Arc turned to Pyrrha. "Do you know who she is?"

"She is Weiss Schnee," said Pyrrha, fighting a smile.

"You're Weiss Schnee," said Jaune, gripping her shoulders tight and shaking her slightly. He had a determined, focused look on his face as he met her eyes and said, in a voice filled with reassurance, "You are Weiss Schnee. Remember that. A-And if you forget again, you can ask Pyrrha. She knows." He blinked. "How does she know? Is she a stalker?"

"You… You…" Weiss was shaking.

"It's okay," he assured her. "Sometimes I forget my name too. It's cool."

Weiss' blood was boiling. Her face turned red.

"You know what you need?" said Jaune. "You need a drink. Always cheers me up." Then, before she could react, he pulled a full bottle of wine out his back pocket, uncorked it and held it to her lips. Shocked, Weiss let a small amount slip past her lips and over her tongue before she pulled back violently.

"You shouldn't force drinks on people," said Pyrrha, suddenly serious. "And where did that even come from?"

Jaune swayed like a branch in a storm. "My pocket."

"You're wearing jeans and that's a full bottle."

"I know, right!?" He threw his arms up in the air happily. "There's way more in here too." He pulled out a bottle of beer, a six pack of cider, a horn – of all things – of mead, and then a metal keg. Several people backed away as it thunked heavily onto the floor and rolled away.

"That's your Semblance?" asked Pyrrha, surprised. She had never heard of a Semblance like this. "Wait, your Semblance lets you create alcohol? Is that safe for other people to consume?"

"I've never – hic – had a problem."

"Yes, but it's your Semblance and made from your aura." Pyrrha looked past him anxiously. "Weiss, are you okay? Do you feel alright?"

Weiss looked up at Pyrrha.

Then, she hiccupped, smiling droopily as her cheeks turned bright pink. With a happy cry, Weiss flung herself at the taller girl and crashed into her, wrapped her arms about Pyrrha's waist and giggled, rubbing her face between the stunned girl's breasts.

"W-Weiss!?"

"I feeeel shooo gooooood~"

/-/

"He's drunk."

"Of this fact I am aware." Ozpin took a slow sip of coffee as he stood with the other teachers watching initiation through various scrolls. "Of this fact I believe everyone in Beacon is currently aware."

He breathed a sigh of relief as a javelin came out the air to spear Miss Schnee against a tree, preventing the very important and well-connected (and currently three sheets to the wind) girl from impacting the ground in a marvellous swan dive. Miss Schnee dangled from the spear, giggled, and shouted, "Again! Again!"

"He's going to die." said Glynda.

Mr Arc flew lazily through the air, headfirst toward his doom, laid on his back with a remarkable lack of concern for gravity. He was balancing a four-pack of beer on his stomach and working one open to take a long drink. It was almost like he didn't realise where he was or what was happening which, Ozpin was forced to admit, might very well be the case.

"He will be fine, Glynda."

Mr Arc struck the treeline like a meteorite, smashed through several branches, got his pants caught in one, was flipped around and around like a spinning top and then deposited when the branch broke. On the way down, his feet hit another branch and managed to spin him in just the right way that he landed on both feet.

He still had his head thrown back, and he was still drinking.

Glynda, however, was choking. "W…W… What…?"

"Mr Arc was brought to our attention by Amber – yes, that Amber – and Qrow, after he thwarted an ambush on her and saved her life. Not that he remembers it or recognises her. Horse lady, he calls her." Ozpin chuckled. "Still, he was able to save her from three unknown attackers and even drive them away through what Amber swore was a mixture of incredible martial arts, unnatural reflexes and drunken flailing."

"I… don't understand…"

"Neither does Mr Arc, nor his family – who swore he was just going out to buy milk on his mother's orders and have no explanation for why he was in Mistral in time to thwart the ambush. Or, for that matter, how he was in Mistral considering his home village is in Vale."

On the screen, they watched as an Ursa leapt from the bushes and swung a huge arm at the boy's head. At that exact time, seemingly by accident, Jaune Arc swayed and dipped, seeming to stumble on nothing. The arm went over his head, and as the boy righted himself, he smacked his skull up into the creature's chin.

They both went down, the Ursa roaring and clutching its face and Jaune Arc rolling about clutching his head. The two figures were practically mirrored, rolling against one another and practically wearing the same expressions of agony.

"He's an idiot," said Glynda.

"Yes. Yes, he is." Ozpin sipped his coffee. "But a potentially very powerful idiot."

"Ozpin, no, he intoxicated Miss Schnee with a mere sip of his Semblance-generated alcohol. The girl flung herself off the cliffs giggling like a madwoman. If it weren't for Miss Nikos, she might be a pancake right now."

"A good example to the other students. I'm sure no one else will drink any now."

"This is a school, Ozpin! They are teenagers! One does not put unlimited alcohol in front of them and expect sobriety!"

"How did that work anyway?" asked Bartholomew. "Is his Semblance contagious in some way?"

"Mr Arc's Semblance is seventy per cent proof." Ozpin paused, and Port raised a hand as if to ask whether he was joking, and then lowered it when Ozpin did not crack even the smallest of smiles. "His blood, also, has an alcoholic content. Yes, I am aware that he should be dead right now. Tsune is currently sleeping off a hangover in the medical wing after analysing it. For all intents and purposes, Mr Arc is less alcoholic and more… well… alcohol."

"That… makes… no sense…"

"No," agreed Ozpin. "No, it does not. And yet here we are."

"He'd have been very popular back in my days." said Peter. "My, I'd have saved thousands on nights out if I had him on my team. How is Qrow taking this? A Semblance based around being drunk and it doesn't belong to him. The man must be inconsolable."

"He's furious, yes." Ozpin smiled. "I've never seen a grown man weep so much. On the other hand, Mr Arc offered him a hip flask that, somehow, never empties. That won Qrow over rather quickly."

The Ursa had gotten up before Mr Arc had and was coming over to try and step on the unlucky boy. As it did, it stepped on one of the cans that had fallen away, tripped, and landed on another can, driving the metal through its left eye socket, into its brain, and killing it. The Grimm faded away into black smoke.

Jaune Arc raised his hands into the air and cheered as if he'd done it himself.

"I hate him!" growled Glynda. "I absolutely hate him!"

"You haven't had a single lesson with him," said Port. "Isn't it a little too early to make such judgements?"

"I don't care. I hate him anyway."

/-/

Pyrrha Nikos was not a happy camper.

Her plan to let the chips fall as they may had been tossed away, on account of the fact she'd have had to let Weiss fall as she may – likely to her doom – to let that happen. Watching the girl fly down to her doom with her arms outstretched shouting "Wheeeee!" at the top of her lungs had forced Pyrrha's hand, and her javelin, and landed her with the girl as a partner for the next four years. A partner who, when sober, only saw her for her fame.

"You better appreciate this," grumbled Pyrrha.

"Mmmnhmm." said Weiss, drooling over Pyrrha's shoulder as she was carried piggyback through the forest. The heiress had passed out after being brought down from the tree, leaving Pyrrha to carry her along.

It's not her fault. It's not her fault. The mantra repeated in her head. Weiss has been affected by a foreign Semblance. I have no idea why the teachers let her continue despite that. Presumably because they hadn't known, Pyrrha not being sure what to say. This is definitely not how I thought initiation would go.

Weiss' hands were already draped over her shoulders and down her front. One of them found Pyrrha's left breast and squeezed. Or rather, she squeezed the hardened armour over her chest. Pyrrha hardly even felt it.

Weiss giggled. "Eheh. Boing…"

"I really hope that Semblance of his is temporary," groaned Pyrrha. She also hoped no one recorded this, or Weiss would be in for one hell of a headache when she woke up. Not that she probably wouldn't have a hangover anyway; Pyrrha had only drunk once, to celebrate her first win with her family, and she'd felt positively awful come morning. If that guy's Semblance was to make the strongest alcohol imaginable, then she couldn't help but imagine it would come with the strongest hangover as well. "Ugh. Come on, Weiss. Let's go find our relic."

"Carry me, mommy…"

"I'm not your-" Pyrrha paused to groan. "Okay, fine, just… stop drooling down my neck."

"I luvvv youuu…"

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

/-/

"Is he dead…?"

It was Nora who asked the question, poking the still body with a stick she'd found nearby while Ren stood awkwardly behind her. Ren did not believe the man was actually dead, on account of the lack of blood. This being a forest filled with Grimm, he couldn't help but think any deaths here would be a little more visceral. Sure enough, the body grumbled and a hand slapped the stick away. Rather than wake, however, the form rolled back over, presented its back to them, and began to snore.

"He's asleep, Nora," said Ren, earning a remarkably flat look from his friend.

"Wow Renny – you're so smart!"

Ren smiled. Some people thought Nora simple because she was so bubbly and outgoing, but she possessed a sharp wit and cutting sarcasm, and often hid it in her exuberant outbursts. It was their own form of communication.

"We can't just leave him here." Nora poked him a few more times and didn't let up even when he started flailing his hand at the stick. "Wake up. Hey, wake up, sleepyhead. I'm not going to stop poking you, so you might as well get up."

"But I dun' wanna!" slurred the man, rolling over. He got up onto his knees, cracked his bloodshot eyes open wearily and yawned. Nora poked him in the forehead. "I'm up! I'm up! Ugh, you're worse than mom. Get out of bed, go to school, stop drinking your body weight in alcohol."

"That last one seems sensible," said Ren. "Also, are you still drunk?"

"W-Why do people keep asking me that?"

"Because most people would have sobered up after a night's sleep."

"Whoah. Really?" The drunk looked at Ren as if he had revealed the meaning of life itself. "That's crazy! I guess I'm just built different."

"Not how people normally boast of that," quipped Ren. "But sure."

"A-Anyway, where am I? This doesn't look like my garden."

"You're in the Emerald Forest outside Beacon."

"In relation to my house…?"

"Far away, I would imagine," said Ren. "Look, it isn't safe here. I don't know how you haven't been found by the Grimm yet-"

"Oh, they found me." He smiled dopily.

"You killed them?" asked Nora. Ren was impressed as well, not because a huntsman killing Grimm was rare or difficult, but because it would have been a far greater challenge when you were this drunk.

"What? No! That'd be rude. Rude!" He pointed at a tree behind Nora. "You're rude." Nora made to speak, but Ren touched her arm and shook his head. It was perhaps better to let this run out. "I didn't kill no one, officer. I plead the fifth."

"The fifth what…?"

"The fifth drink," said the boy, utterly serious. "Can't remember nothin' after the fifth drink. Anyway, what are you two lovely ladies doing out here, eh?"

Nora giggled.

Ren sighed. "I'm not a lady."

The drunk blinked at her, then turned to Nora to ask, "Is this a kink thing where she gets off on being called derogatory words? Cuz, like, I can do that, but I'd feel awful if I got it wrong and called her something nasty."

Nora didn't stop giggling, even as Ren groaned. "Renny isn't a lady because he's a boy!"

Jaune stared long and hard. "Whut…? But he's so pretty."

"I know, right!?" said Nora.

Jaune Arc stared at Ren some more and then said, "I need a drink."

"I'm beginning to think I might need one as well," said Ren. "Maybe after," he added, backing away as the boy summoned a full barrel of whiskey with out his back pocket. The cask thunked down onto the forest floor with a stamp on the side suggesting it was over a hundred years old, and likely very, very expensive. "It's not a good idea to drink out here."

Not if what he'd seen of the Schnee girl was any indication.

"Suit yourself," said Jaune. "Hey, wanna hold me up in a handstand while I down the whole barrel?"

"DO I EVER!" cried Nora.

"No!" said Ren. "We need to find the relic and pass initiation." He forced himself past Nora's glum expression. "You can… ugh… make friends later. Look, we're already a duo now, but you can come with us if you want. I think I'd feel responsible if we abandoned you here and you died."

"I'd feel responsible if I died, too," said Jaune. "And I'm drunk!"

"We know," said Nora and Ren in perfect unison.

/-/

Ruby hadn't found her partner.

That… That bothered her. She'd hoped to run across Yang but her pain in the butt of a sister had decided this was a chance for her to make friends, and so vanished into the wilderness like Uncle Qrow during happy hour. It didn't help that despite Ruby fighting her way through the forest toward the ruins, she hadn't run into anyone.

Not one person.

"Welp," said Ruby. "It's official. Loneliest girl at Beacon. Team of one. Ruby-no-mates. Ahah. Hah. Hngh…." Teeth gritted, Ruby whined loudly into the air. "Yang, you suck so much!"

Trudging out the forest, she finally found the ruins and the plinth upon which stood a chessboard and, to make matters even worse, her obnoxious sister chatting with a girl with black hair. The same one who had appeared to save Ruby before, cursed out the white-haired girl and then walked off without actually saving Ruby at all.

"Yang!"

"Rub- Huh. Where's your partner?"

"I don't have a partner!" wailed Ruby, stamping forward. "I've found no one. No one! I'm all alone, doomed to forever be alone because my own sister abandoned me. They'll call me Beacon's spinster!" Ruby's finger dug into Yang's stomach. She'd have poked her chest, but that way led stupid puns. "What would mom say? What will dad say, huh? You promised him you'd look out for me!"

"I said I'd keep you safe. You're safe."

"I'm on my own!"

Yang made to respond and then looked over Ruby's head, prompting her to turn and look as a tall redhead came trudging out the forest with another girl hanging over her shoulders. Ruby feared the worst for a moment, and then realised the white-haired girl was asleep. Good, she was less mean that way. The redhead didn't look thrilled about having had to carry her.

"Don't ask," growled the redhead.

"Is she drunk?"

"I said don't ask." The redhead stomped past them, snatched a random chess piece off the board and shoved it up for the other girl to hold. That proved to be a mistake as no sooner did Weiss take the chess piece than did Pyrrha hear an ominous sound.

"Nom."

Ruby pointed. "Did… Did she just eat-?"

"No! Bad Weiss! Bad!" The redhead flipped the girl around, locked her arms about her stomach and yanked hard, forcing her to gasp and cough up the now slimy piece. "Thank goodness. Is this what it feels like to be a mother? Ugh."

"So…" said Yang. "I'm Yang."

"Pyrrha. This is Weiss. Say hello, Weiss."

Weiss pointed at Yang. "Yellow!"

"Close enough."

"Blake," said the dark-haired girl, eyeing the drunken Schnee oddly.

"I'm Ruby. I don't have a partner."

"Lucky. I wish I didn't have a partner," said Pyrrha, right as the white-haired girl clung to her leg and drunkenly slurred out, "Best friends foreverrrr…"

Okay, maybe being on her own wasn't that bad. Ruby stared at the odd pair even as Yang came up to poke the drunk girl's nose. Weiss' eyes crossed as she tried to follow the digit, then lashed out with both hands to catch it, missed, and fell flat on her face.

"You realise she's going to murder you when she sobers up," said Blake.

"I know. Pictures for blackmail?"

Blake's scroll came out. "Yes."

Ruby shook her head as her sister and her partner took numerous shots of Weiss Schnee acting the fool. Instead, Ruby walked up to the chess board and took a knight piece. Not the slimy one that Weiss had coughed up, but the other. She nudged that one back to Pyrrha with her boot, letting the morose woman stoop to pick it up, dry it on her skirt and put it in her pocket.

"DEATHSTALKER!"

"MAKE WAY!"

"HOLD MY BEER!"

Ruby and the others jumped and peered out as a pair of students came rushing out the forest with a third hanging over the shoulder of the orange-haired girl. Jaune Arc bounced wildly, hands trailing behind him as if to catch something. That something turned out to be a giant Deathstalker that came crashing out the trees with its pincers clicking murderously.

"You know what," said Pyrrha, huffing. "I'm not even surprised anymore. I'm not."

"I guess we can all die together," said Yang.

"At this point," growled Pyrrha, "Death would be a release."

The Deathstalker struck down behind the running duo, cracked the ground and sent them bouncing up and tumbling away. The boy landed agilely, like a ninja, while the girl caught herself in a combat roll and managed to get back on her feet.

Jaune landed on his face, snapped his head back, and skidded upside down on his throat and chin with his feet up in the air. He flopped back, shook his head, and stood up like such a terrible impact hadn't so much as inconvenienced him. Ruby remembered being taught that keeping your body loose could prevent broken bones; his body must have been very loose at this point. His brain, too.

"Jaune!" shouted the girl who had dropped him.

He pointed back cheerfully. "Nora!"

"No!" screamed Nora. "BEHIND YOU!"

He turned, looked up, eyed death in the face and pointed. "This?"

"Hisssss!" chittered the monster, striking with an open claw at incredible speeds.

Ruby gasped, and a scream caught in her throat. The others swore, and Yang was already moving to try and save him, but not even Ruby could have closed the distance in that speed. She clenched her eyes shut, unwilling to see him be decapitated.

KLANG

The strike of claw on metal. Ruby froze, eyes cracking open slowly. Jaune Arc was stood there still, the claw mere inches from his face, but locked open. Its pincers were on either side of his face, and twitched as they tried to close, but he had jammed something right down the centre of them, against the joint where the claws opened.

It was a bottle.

Pyrrha Nikos whimpered.

Jaune Arc swayed drunkenly, ducking under the claws that were still trying to close around him, and gave the bottle a short little twist. With a click and a hiss, the small metal cap that the claw had caught on flicked off, and the claws snapped shut above him. He stood, as if he hadn't noticed anything, and patted the Deathstalker's pincers. "Thanks."

He then walked off to the side and took a swig from the bottle.

"What am I watching…?" asked Blake.

"Jaune!" shouted Nora. "The tail!"

He stopped suddenly and turned back to her. "The what-?"

Because of his sudden halt in movement, the Deathstalker's poisonous tail that had been aimed at the perfect angle to intercept him had he kept moving smashed into the ground about two inches in front of him. Jaune didn't even notice.

"The tail…" said Nora, weakly.

"I can barely hear you!" shouted Jaune, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the Grimm. "This thing is hissing like a broken kettle."

He started moving the other way, only for the Deathstalker's claw to come across in a horizontal slash aimed for his head. He was still drinking, head tipped back to expose his neck, and didn't seem to see it coming. At the last possible second, he dropped to one knee.

It sailed mere inches overhead.

"Oops." Jaune Arc reached down and picked up the little bronze bottle lid he'd dropped to the floor before. "Almost littered there. Hic. G-Got to think of the environment." He swayed again, flicked the bottle cap up and tried to catch it. Unfortunately, the Deathstalker had the same idea and was biting down for his head. The bottlecap caught in its throat, and the creature skittered backwards hacking and choking. "Huh?" asked Jaune, staring dumbly at his open hand and wondering where the cap had gone. He looked up to the sky as if asking if a bird had taken it. "What…?"

"Is he fucking with us?" Yang asked Pyrrha. "He has to be fucking with us."

"I don't think he is…"

Jaune Arc had, for some reason, decided that he needed somewhere to sit down to drink his booze, and had decided to clamber up over the Deathstalker's face as it tried to cough up the bottlecap. It was uneven footing at best, which explained why he kept tripping and falling flat, coincidentally dodging the claws swiping for him every time.

He kept getting up, however, and doggedly made his way to the middle of its back, where he sat cross-legged and pulled out a bottle of red wine. He gave it a shake, then gripped the neck of the botte and aimed it down and away from his face. The cork flew out with a mighty pop and flew away, bounced off the Deathstalker's claw and back into its face, struck an eye and blinded it.

It started to thrash and jump about wildly, trying to buck him off and clear its vision. It slammed into a tree, then against a rock, and tried to scrape him off on its surface. Jaune Arc was used to perilous conditions however, a simple walk to the bathroom being about as steady as a boat in a storm. He moved with it, tossed the bottle back and drank without a care in the world.

Weiss Schnee pointed suddenly. "I want!"

Somehow, someway, Jaune heard her. "Oh. Sorry, that was rude of me not to offer to share. Here."

He went from sitting to standing in a fraction of a second, and from stationary to stepping forward with bottle outstretched faster than anyone could react – least of all the Deathstalker, half-blind and enraged as it was. As such, he stepped away from the stinger that had been coming down for his head, and which now cracked through the back of the Grimm's own carapace, pierced through and into its body. The stinger glowed, unloading its deadly payload without conscious thought.

The Grimm froze, stumbled, and then slouched forward, very much dead.

Jaune Arc stepped off its face as it began to dissolve, as if it was just any other day. He then walked toward Weiss to offer her a drink, caught his foot on a rock, stumbled with both arms flailing comically, fell, and struck the floor face first, immediately knocking himself out. The bottle of wine fizzled away into aura as he lay there, unconscious.

"Is he…?"

"He's alive," said the boy that had come in with him. "Though I've no idea how he's remained such for seventeen years. I'm Ren by the way. That's Nora. Does anyone here not have a partner? He needs one. Preferably one that can keep him alive. Or sober. Or both."

All eyes turned to Ruby.

Ruby turned her own to Yang helplessly. Begging.

Yang looked conflicted.

"I mean, Ruby isn't even old enough to drink and he looks like he can't survive without it. Maybe it'd be best if I teamed up with her. We can swap and Blake can go with this guy-" Before she could finish, Blake had wrapped black rope around her body, trapped her arms to her side and hogtied her. Gagged her, too. "Mph!?"

"No," said the girl. "You're mine. Congratulations on your partner, Ruby. He seems…" Blake thought long and hard for a word to describe him. Eventually, she settled on: "Unique. But hey, he killed a Deathstalker single-handed. Sort of. That's good."

Ruby Rose whimpered.

Jaune Arc, drunken… master? Sort of. Mostly just drunk.

As I said, this isn't a new story or anything, just a bit of a random piece of crack I wrote for a laugh after me and a friend were talking about that old trope of drunken kung-fu masters. It was after watching Kung Fu Hustle, which is such a damn good film. So unapologetically stupid.

I may or may not throw in the odd chapter if I feel like it, but don't expect a coherent story. It'd just be one-off things. Snippets of their life in Beacon with drunk Jaune, or Jaune going clubbing and becoming bff with Neo, or annoying Roman, or Cinder's desperate attempts to assassinate him which Jaune drunkenly mistakes as flirting.

If anyone does want to try and write their own story from this idea, then feel free. I don't mind.

Like my work? Please consider supporting me, even if it's only a little a month or even for a whole year, so I can keep writing so many stories as often as I do. Even a little means a lot and helps me dedicate more time and resources to my work.

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur