RWBY: LUCID

Jaune sat stiffly in a wooden chair, legs tense and hands clasped in his lap like a polite hostage. The chalk-drawn summoning circle was now being cleaned up and the windows once closed, were now opened. The other club members, still in full cultist cosplay mode, had also begun untying Maurice from the pole in the middle of the room.

Maurice groaned dramatically. "Careful! That's expensive enchanted rope. You're gonna mess up the fibers."

"Didn't you find this on ebay for 10$" Another member asked him.

"N-no!"

Jaune didn't have the energy to react. He just stared ahead, unimpressed. He'd been here before, after all

The last time was Friday afternoon—his first visit to Room 319.

Back then, he'd thought maybe, just maybe, the occult research society would be a group of nerdy students debating conspiracy theories and swapping supernatural trivia. He believed that they were possibly able to help him in regards to information about that magical place. The Dream. The Nightmare realm, whatever it was called. Surely, that fell under the term, Occult, didn't it?

Instead, he'd walked in on a séance. Full on ritualistic summoning.

And now, on Monday, he'd walked in on them mid-sacrifice practice. He was already regretting his decision to come back.

The girl responsible for this chaos stepped in front of him, brushing some incense ash off her robe with all the grace of a stage magician about to reveal her final trick.

"I never got to formally introduce myself last time," she said with a smile. "I'm Mocha Fiore. Second-year. Founder and president of the Occult Research Society. Master of mysteries. Scourge of skeptics. Seeker of truth and a hunter of mystery! And a totally normal high school girl, promise!"

She did a dramatic pose, one hand in the air and another covering her face with her finger splayed out She then bowed so low that her hood nearly fell off. Perhaps this girl would have been more at home at the drama club?

"Right," Jaune said flatly. "Mocha."

"I'm glad you remembered to come back," she beamed. "That means you're invested!"

"Not sure if invested is the word. More like out of options," Jaune muttered to himself, then addressed her, "You were going to sacrifice a person?"

"For research!"

"You gagged him."

"For the atmosphere!"

Mocha moved to sit on the desk across from him, crossing her legs and leaning forward like an intrigued professor ready to psychoanalyze her most curious patient.

"So," she said, "what brings you back, brave traveler? I thought you'd never return after last time. Maurice even said we scared you off."

"I wasn't scared," Jaune sighed. "Just... confused and weirded out."

"You came back though," she said, gesturing like she'd just won an argument in court.

"Unfortunately, I have questions," Jaune sighed once again, glancing at the weird scribbles still decorating the floor. "About runes. Magic runes."

Mocha perked up instantly. "Now that's a topic."

She snapped her fingers, and one of the members—Jenna, Jaune remembered from Friday—began dragging out a stack of books that were so dusty they probably counted as biohazards.

"We've got everything from Elder Futhark to obscure Tibetan sigils," Mocha said proudly. "What kind of runes are you looking for?"

"Elder Futhark?"

"Ancient Atlasean runes." Mocha explained with a shrug.

"Gotcha. Anyway, I'm looking for images mostly," Jaune explained. "Three different types. A healing rune, barrier and thirdly… one that gives power or enhances user prowess. Strength, speed or durability. Anything of that nature that allows a person to hit harder."

Mocha tilted her head, intrigued. "Any reason?"

"Gaming," Jaune replied quickly. "I, uh, saw them in some RPGs I've been playing. Got curious if any of them were based on real stuff. Figured the occult club might know."

"Riiight," she drawled out, clearly unconvinced but choose not to push further. "Totally normal curiosity. Happens all the time."

Jaune didn't respond. He wasn't about to spill the truth—that he'd seen symbols just like the ones he described in the dream realm. Glowing inscriptions that were etched on weird bracelets. Etched into the very air during battles that felt far too real to be fiction.

But that was crazy talk.

Even by the occult society's standards.

"I'm not saying I believe in any of it," he added, trying to sound casual. "I just… want to know if those runes show up anywhere legit."

"Well," Mocha said, hopping off the desk, "it'll take me some time to dig through our archives. I've got a few theories already. If I cross-reference old ritual diagrams with Mistralian knotwork and maybe some Vacuoan hex script, I might be able to find something by tomorrow."

Jaune skeptical. "Really?"

"I'm very efficient when I'm motivated," she said proudly. "And this is mysterious, ancient magic power we're talking about. You can't just leave a tease like that hanging."

He nodded, a bit relieved. This was what he'd come for—actual occult knowledge. Not incense smoke, not creepy gags, not a pole in the middle of a school club room.

"Great," he said. "Tomorrow, then. I'll come back and see what you found."

"Wonderful!" Mocha clapped once, then immediately shoved a paper into his face. "Now sign this."

Jaune leaned back. "What's this?"

"Club application form," she said sweetly. "We have a robe in your size. It's waiting."

"No."

"Come on, Jaune—"

"Nope."

"You already sat in the circle—"

"I'm not joining."

She gave him puppy eyes. "What if I promise not to tie up Maurice anymore?"

"You can't promise that."

She paused. "True."

"Still not joining."

She pouted dramatically, shoulders sagging as if he'd just canceled her birthday. "But… we were gonna give you a title and everything. You'd have a chair."

"Wait—you have titles?"

"Of course! I'm the Grand Arcanist. Jenna's the Keeper of Secrets. Maurice is... the Willing Vessel. You'd probably be something like… Rune-Seeker! Or Initiate of Ink!?"

Jaune stared.

She sniffled, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

The rest of the club watched like it was a tense final scene in a drama series.

"Still no."

Mocha pouted for a couple of seconds, then to Jaune's horror, she gained an evil grin that sent a shiver up his spine. "Information is only available to club members. I have no reason to help you, if you don't join."

She got him there.

Jaune exhaled heavily, rubbing his temple. "Fine. I'll be… an unofficial member."

Mocha's eyes lit up. "Unofficial?!"

"I'm not joining. Not really. I'll just stop by now and then. That's it."

Mocha launched forward and latched onto his leg again. "That's all I ever wanted!"

The other members burst into gentle applause. Maurice, now free and blissfully sipping from a very suspicious cup of tea, raised it in a toast.

"To our favorite almost-Initiate!"

Jaune groaned. "I'm leaving before you all try to knight me with a cursed ladle."

He stood, brushing chalk dust off his pants. Mocha handed him a black-covered rune notebook.

"For your research," she said. "Don't open the last page. It might be haunted."

"Might?"

"There was a nosebleed incident," she added cryptically.

Jaune took the notebook like it was made of live wires.

"Tomorrow," Mocha said, waving at him. "I'll have what you need!"

Jaune nodded and turned to leave, heart already racing from how late he was. The Sword Arts Club had probably already started warm-ups.

As he hurried down the stairs, away from the candles, robes, and unhinged enthusiasm, he shook his head.

The Occult Research Society was absolutely, undeniably unhinged.

But if they could point him towards the answers he needed, real runes and real power, or at the very least, have something in terms of information on it—they'd be worth the headache.

Probably.

Maybe.

…He really hoped Maurice wasn't into being tied up every week.

On the way to the sword arts club, Jaune felt curious. He opened the notebook that Mocha had given him. He flipped through the pages filled with weird diagrams of runes and the like before hesitating at the last page.

Would it really cause a nosebleed? Jaune had to admit that he was intrigued.

Slowly, almost hesitantly he flipped to the last page...

And was greeted with a detailed drawing of furry porn.

.

.

AN: Well... seems like nobody wants to review this story. We still haven't gotten to 10 reviews yet. Feels bad. But that's fine. I changed the cover image. Let me know if you like it or prefer the previous one.

Support me on patreon and you'll get to read up to 10 advanced chapters ahead of the public.