AN: I'm not crazy, you're crazy.
Okay, real talk. This isn't Lord of the Mists, which chapter is about 1/3rd completed and has been for a long time. It also isn't I'm Not the Protagonist, despite that having a finished chapter that I'm waiting until I can go on a real writing-binge to publish.
Nope, this is a new story in a new universe trying something completely new. Because burning plot bunnies. I don't know when this will be updated, probably when I get more inspiration and 3-4 hours of free time. This isn't me abandoning my old stories, this is me having the self-control of a two year-old.
That said, let's get to the actual story. This is a crossover between RWBY (A show that I've liked for a long time) and Constantine/Hellblazer (One I fell into headfirst recently.) The idea came to me out of nowhere, including the final sentence of this chapter, and I'm not 100% sure I know where it's going, either. Great places, obviously.
This story won't be as dark as Constantine or Hellblazer, because Gods Below those are messed up, hopefully I can keep it about RWBY level or slightly below. (This is the part where everyone who's up to date on I'm Not the Protagonist starts laughing-and-or-crying hysterically.)
And another note, Jaune is not Johnstantine. He is not a reincarnation, has no memories, and John doesn't even exist in this universe. The family name does for plot-relevant reasons, but the original character does not. Just a warning for anyone who was coming in with expectations of Teenage!John running around in the RWBY-verse.
Oh yeah. And this is an AU. *jazz hands*
Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY, which is owned by Rooster Teeth, or Constantine/Hellblazer, which is owned by DC Comics and some other companies. That said, they have some seriously cool ideas that I will shamelessly abuse for my own entertainment.
Jaune held his head high as he walked towards the bullhead that was steadily filling with teenagers in a variety of colored outfits, a casual smirk smeared across his face like day-old paint. "All you need is confidence," his father used to tell him, the phrase accompanied by a wink and a deft reveal of a small candy or quarter tucked away in his hand. "That's why they call them con-men, you know." With the comforting memory came a wave of pain like a spreading heat across his skin and the smirk stretched slightly, pulling at his face until it felt like it would come apart at the seams.
Nonchalantly getting into line with the rest of the Beacon hopefuls, Jaune lightly tapped his feet in a comforting rhythm to calm his racing heart. Tap, tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap, tap-tap. Crocea Mors was an unfamiliar weight at his hip, the weighty piece of metal tied to his belt by a thin ribbon in exchange for a proper sword belt. The figure at the front of the line, a tall girl with purple hair and a Mistralian dress was waved through by the security guards, having passed the inspection.
The line shuffled a few steps forward and Jaune waited until there was a large enough opening before taking a single step to bring him back to his position. The young teen's hands felt sweaty and he resisted the urge to fidget, to wipe his damp palms on his blue jeans or rest them on the pommel of Crocea Mors or any of the other thousand things that would give away his nervousness.
He had every right to be here. He had been accepted, the hastily-made forgeries passing through without incident, and he was on the acceptance list. If he was any other student, he should be able to walk right up to the stone-faced security guards and present his passport and ID with a smile and be on his way to Beacon.
Except that Jaune wasn't. His passport was in the same place as his ID, exactly where he'd left them a week ago. Sitting in the ashes of his family home, probably in the ruined kitchen which used to be below his bedroom. Unless the fire had been so hot it had simply vaporized the unprotected materials instead of burning them. Either way, the end result was the same. Jaune was in a line, ready to illegally gain entry to an international bullhead flight.
The next candidate was waved through and the line shuffled forward once again. Another carefully measured step and Jaune was now only the fifth in a line that used to stretch for nearly a city block. This was Archon, so the distance wasn't that long to begin with, but it was steadily shrinking and Jaune only had one chance to do this. One chance or he would lose it all.
Well that wasn't quite true. This was actually the fourth time he'd been in this line, always ducking out before he got too close and the guards noticed the same teenager showing up again and again. He had an excuse prepared just in case he was approached, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. This was his last chance, anyway. Any longer and the bullhead would leave, abandoning Jaune to his fate.
As if in answer to his unspoken plea, someone stepped into place behind Jaune, a foot sending a rock skittering to the side of the path. Turning halfway around, Jaune gave the newcomer a judging look, one eyebrow raised. The latecomer was a short girl, with long brown hair done in a braid on one side of her head, a nervous look on her face as she glanced up to see Jaune's look and nearly took a step back. And thank Oum, the girl was holding a passport in her hands, turning it over and over in mindless repetition.
Jaune nearly broke out into a smile of sheer relief at the side, but held it back, instead giving a lingering look at the girl before snorting dismissively and turning away. The girl seemed nervous already, it should be easy to drive her into a state of near-panic. And nobody thought straight when they were panicking.
The wait for the next applicant took a few moments longer, and Jaune once again had to resist the urge to rub his hands together. He briefly considered folding his arms just to keep them in place, but he didn't want to come off as too aggressive to the guards. But cocky, cocky could work. Already mentally rearranging his plans, Jaune inserted his hands into his pockets and began to slouch just slightly, keeping the same smirk on his face. All it takes is confidence.
The girl being scanned, tan with white lines down her arms and a distinct lack of a weapon on her, was handed back her passport and quickly entered the waiting bullhead. The line was waved forward by one severe-looking guard and Jaune waited until the space was clear before taking a large step forward until he was behind the next person, hesitating for a moment, before taking a subtle step backwards, just as the short girl hurried forward. The lighter frame hitting a large object moving the other direction was enough to knock the girl off her feet, sitting down roughly on the ground behind Jaune.
Turning around and acting the picture of a stereotypical smug teenager, Jaune gave the girl another dismissive look, taking in the low-quality of her clothes and simple bow strung across her back. Probably a member of a working family who had been lucky enough to get her aura unlocked and was on her way to Beacon to support her family. Hopefuls like her were a dime a dozen, and would probably be eaten up in Vale before she even made it to initiation. Jaune's thoughts on the girl vanished abruptly as he noticed the small black case that held a passport, on the ground next to the girl. A perfect chance.
Then he looked at the girl again. Not at her clothes or the simple weapon on her back, but at her eyes. They were blue, a color that reminded him all too sharply of his family and were slowly filling with tears, despite a scrunched lip and red cheeks that proved the opposite had been intended. Jaune had always been weak to seeing girls cry, an effect of growing up with seven sisters. And now the all-too-fresh wound was being eagerly stabbed by this one girl and her all-too-easily aroused tear-ducts. Really, there was only one option.
Jaune let out a quiet curse before turning around and leaning down to offer a hand to the young girl. "Sorry 'bout that, Love. Didn't mean to knock you down. I'm just a mite too strong for my own good, you might say." That was a blatant lie. Jaune had been the weakest member of his family, preferring to stay inside and read dusty old tomes instead of train with his siblings. He hadn't even planned to be a huntsman at all, before the choice was made for him.
The girl looked up at him with wide eyes before quickly brushing one arm across her eyes to wipe away the moisture and taking the offered hand without a second thought. Really, such trust in a stranger was near mind-boggling. She wouldn't survive a day in Vale proper. Hoisting the girl onto her feet with a display of strength that Jaune did his best to make effortless, he took an intentionally long look over the girl in front of him, letting his eye linger slightly on her face and legs. She wasn't bad-looking, to be sure, but more in a little sister kind of way than anything to pursue romantically.
Leaning over once more towards the passport left abandoned on the ground, Jaune asked in a deceptively casual tone, "And what's a cute little thing like you doing all the way out here in Archon? Plan to take the hunter exam?" Hopefully the combination of look and flattery would be a sufficient distraction.
As he reached down to grasp the small black case with his left hand, the fingers of his right curled into his sleeve and produced a similar-looking black case, down to the fake-leather outside stamped with the emblem of the kingdom, a cross entwined with a winged snake. Straightening again, the real passport disappeared into the right sleeve while Jaune turned to the girl and presented the fake with a flourish and small bow. "I believe you dropped this, love."
The girl seemed almost dazed, a slight flush on her cheeks and eyes nearly glued to Jaune's own, blue meeting blue. Jaune let the glance continue for a moment before lazily waving the black book in his hand before the girl's eyes, blocking her vision for a moment. "I'm flattered you're looking, but isn't this a wee bit more important?"
The blue orbs locked onto the offered object and with a flash it was torn from Jaune's grip and was held securely between the girl's small palms. Jaune blinked in confusion for a moment, glancing between his now empty grasp and to where the booklet now sat, before grinning. "Now that's a nice trick, love. Can't wait to see how well you'd use that while fighting the grimm." Moving small objects from one place to another near-instantaneously? Perfect for refilling ammunition with a glance or planting traps that didn't exist until you were nearly on top of them.
The still-nameless girl opened her mouth, but all that came out was a squeak, before it was clamped shut again and the young girl's face grew even more red. Jaune just laughed. "Don't worry about it, lass. We can talk more on the flight over. For now," he said, motioning towards the leather object held in her grasp, "focus on that. Maybe put it away in a pocket or bag for now, just to ensure it doesn't get lost until you need it? How's about that?"
Quickly nodding, the girl carefully set the case inside a pocket on her skirt, before ducking her head to avoid eye contact with Jaune. Chuckling audibly, Jaune turned back towards the front of the line and instantly noted with no small amount of panic that he was the next person in line.
Making sure to keep his back turned towards the girl behind him, Jaune pulled out the passport and opened it, barely glancing at the lines of text and carefully placed pictures before deftly plucking a thin tube of film from where it had been buried in the cuff of his white buttoned shirt and unrolling it to reveal his own face and a number of facts printed onto thin plastic wrap. A tube of glue emerged from the other cuff and covered the rear face of the film before it was placed onto the credit-card sized passport. Minor adjustments and it was Jaune's own face staring up at him, with only a few minor bumps to show the deception.
And then the final touch. Bringing his hand up to his mouth, Jaune licked his thumb before passing it over the right side of the passport several times, smearing his saliva onto the plastic. Task complete, he closed the case just in time to step forward with a cocky grin to the pair of guards waiting for him. Severe, stern, but also tired. They'd been here since eight in the morning, nearly twelve hours ago. Jaune would know, he'd been here longer.
"ID please," the guard with a mustache said calmly. He was in the same uniform as his counterpart, meaning gray pants and a gray suit, along with a sharp blue cap to make the whole thing seem official. Big beneath the suit too. Could probably break Jaune like a twig. He just hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"Naturally, officer," Jaune said, smirk back in place. "And it's a pleasure to meet you as well. Now if you'll just wait a moment…" he reached into his back pocket. Then his front pocket. He adjusted Crocea Mors to reach the other back pocket. By now the guards were starting to pay attention, a gleam of interest coming to their eyes. "I swear I had it," Jaune said, letting some of the panic he was feeling bleed into his voice.
The two guards exchanged a look before the clean-shaven man stepped forward. "Excuse me sir, we need to see your ID before you can step onto the bullhead." Jaune looked up and glanced briefly between the two men before reaching frantically into a pocket he had already searched.
"Sir, we can't let you on if you don't have an ID. Please step aside and let the next person go."
"That's not it!" Jaune said, pulling out his scroll. "Mom said this would happen, that I'd forget it someday and get pulled over and go to jail because I'd left it behind." Under his breath, he muttered, "Oum thank that woman." Quickly expanding the scroll and picking through the mess of free apps he'd installed on the stolen scroll to mask the factory reset he'd performed shortly after obtaining it. "Just wait, here it is!"
Pulling up the picture, he thrust the scroll toward the two guards, allowing them to see it for themselves. It was sloppily taken, with bad lighting and a cheap tile counter as the background. But it clearly showed a picture of a seventeen year-old Jaune Arc with a dopey smile, along with lines of facts about his birth, blood type, security number, and more. It was the picture of an official document, and the angle proved that the card had some thickness to it, instead of just paper.
That's all it was, naturally. Paper, printed from a library with a fake ID, pasted to thin cardboard, and the photo shot from a scroll taken from a lost and found. All fake. But would the guards be able to tell that? The two men studied the picture carefully, glancing at it for what seemed like an eternity. When they finally nodded and handed the scroll back, Jaune's hands were shaking as he accepted the thin device, pocketing it and taking the moment to grip the thin fabric of his jeans and steady himself.
When he pulled his hands free again, they were still and he was smirking again. One step down. A thousand and one to go. "Do you have your passport?" the mustached guard asked, with a hint of amusement. "Or did you leave that behind as well."
Jaune shot him the best insulted look he could and pulled out the thin black case. "Of course not, I wouldn't forget something that important." He handed over the object with a casual flourish and worked to quell the desperation in his chest. Thirty more seconds.
The clean-shaved guard flipped open the case and inspected the paper inside with much less care than they had given the ID. Nobody would be stupid enough to try and forge their papers to get into Beacon and then forget one of the two objects. A teenager accidentally leaving something behind? Thousands happened a day. Now this was just a formality. One that was about to become a felony in a few more seconds.
The ID was passed to the guard's mustached companion who pulled out a thin rod, one side glass with small bulbs behind. A UV lamp. Taking a deep breath, Jaune casually stomped his foot on the ground, putting the full weight of his body on the small glass tube hidden inside his shoe. The glass fractured, then burst open from the inside, sending small glass shards shooting into Jaune's heel, pain weathered by the teen gritting his death.
The UV lamp turned on, briefly showing a smeared pattern of blue and green on the right side of the card before a bulb shattered and sparks raced across the metal surface, causing the guard to jerk back, releasing his grip on the rod before his reflexes kicked in and the other hand darted down to grab the rod before it hit the hard ground below. The mustached guard looked at the rod and tried to turn it on, cursing briefly as it failed to do so.
Jaune breathed a silent sigh of relief. It would have been better if the lamp had hit the ground and fractured, but it didn't matter so long as it failed to operate. The guard hit the side of the rod with a hand and Jaune's breath hitched as it flicked on again. Wan and flickering, but still operational. Jaune's back molars ground together briefly and he promised himself that he would have his due if this failed.
But instead of turning back to scan the card once again, the guard turned and handed the small case back to Jaune. "Here you are, sorry about that. I got a brief look though, and you're free to go." It took everything Jaune had to keep his composure, smirking up at the guard and accepting the passport back with a deft flick of the wrist before he walked forward, his shoes making tinny sounds as they hit the metal gangplank leading to the bullhead. Behind him, he could hear the tired voice saying "ID please?"
As Jaune finally boarded the bullhead, he took a few steps into the interior before dropping his mask and leaning against a nearby wall to catch his breath and take his weight off his injured foot. That had been one of the worst experiences of Jaune's life. He'd been told as he grew up to be honest, to never lie, that "an Arc never breaks their word." And what he just did spit upon everything his mother had taught him.
And yet, as Jaune took slow, steady breaths to prevent himself from hyperventilating, he couldn't help the large grin blooming across his face. That was the most exciting thing he had ever done. Living the lie, manufacturing the perfect story and the utter thrill of dancing so close to discovery before pulling it off. "Careful, mate," Jaune whispered to himself, gazing blankly into the ship. "You just might get addicted to this."
"B-But I know that this was my passport! I checked before I left the house! I promise!"
The smile fell from Jaune's face and he pushed himself back onto his feet, making a beeline away from the entrance to the bullhead and towards the back, where a line of seats was set up, although barely any of there were being used, most preferring to stand clustered in groups, whispering together. This was only one of five bullheads heading to Vale, and from there to Beacon. Thousands were accepted every year, but only those who could survive and pass the fabled initiation were accepted into the vaunted halls of the establishment.
Settling down onto one of the chairs, Jaune bowed his head and covered his ears with his hands. He didn't need to hear what was being said to know what was happening just outside the bullhead. The young girl —he still didn't even known her burning name— was protesting that she had her passport, but all she would find securely tucked away into a pocket so she "wouldn't lose it" was a leather-covered booklet listing the basic rules of Archon, something that could be found in every home in the city.
The guards would be understanding, they could make the mistaken connection just as easily as Jaune could form it. But the rules were rules and even a young girl full of hope and dreams couldn't be exempt. She would stay behind. And Jaune would take her place.
"You broke the deal." Jaune spoke in a whisper, hands still covering his ears, his own voice a mere murmur. "The scanner would break, and you would be free." Slowly removing his hands, he reached into the shirt pocket and pulled out an old-fashioned lighter, the metal casing scratched and dented in places. Flipping the top open he clicked the flint several times, sparks flying before it caught and a small orange flame glowed in the air before the teen.
Despite the lack of fuel, a thin stream of smoke began to emerge from the tiny flame, flattening and darkening until it was a gray sheet. Eyes blinked open in the smoke, and a mouth of sharp teeth opened wide, tasting the heat before closing into gray blankness once more before it spoke in smoke and broken dreams. "The deal was kept, Bright One. The accursed mechanism did shatter, as was pronounced by the sacred words. And besides," it snarled, the smell of smoke sharpening into the scent of burnt flesh, "I was contained by you, chained by you. I owe you no allegiance, Bright One."
Jaune sat back in the chair, propping his right leg onto his knee and holding the lighter in front of him. "But don't forget, you were the one who attacked first, Adfrilengyaq. You broke the treaty and attempted my soul. And you lost, the price of your arrogance being a deal. Your assistance in one simple task. In exchange, your freedom."
Letting his head loll back onto the headrest of the chair, Jaune ignored the flickering smoke before him, speaking while staring at the ceiling. "You have permission to break of one the abominations of humankind and obtain your freedom. I commit a sin, pulling my sin closer to hell. Really, you win no matter what. Unless…" he left it trailing, knowing the imp would fill in the blanks on his own. Unless the demon had broken the contract.
"But hey, none of my business which choice you make," Jaune said casually. "Just means you get to stick with me a little longer, Adfrilengyaq. Lucky you, mate. I've probably got a few more vials stashed away somewhere, I'm sure they'll be quite comfy." It was a bluff. Jaune did have more vials, but none that would be able to hold the imp for very long. In a few days the demon would break free and have his revenge, most likely while Jaune was asleep.
"So how about this," Jaune said, leaning forward once again and fixing his eyes on the trail of smoke. "You're useless, barely even an imp." The demon shivered with anger, teeth bared, but refrained from speaking. "So we make one more pact. You steer clear of me, never attack me again, and I release you from your broken contract. You get freedom and never have to deal with me again."
The demon growled again but Jaune knew he had him. It was a contest of wills, and there was nothing in it for the demon. Eventually he growled and the burnt smell subsided, becoming the slightly nostalgic scent of a woodfire once again. "Very well, Bright One. This one accepts the new contract. Pronounce the sacred words that I may be rid of you."
"Well no need to be rude about it," Jaune muttered, drawing another growl from the demon before he began. "Armuletum Ostralkurban," the teen muttered, closing his eyes and forming one hand into the shape of a claw with his thumb and two fingers. "Astrolquerious Lausichstein Exceriormortem Finalistrum." When he opened his eyes again, the smoke and the imp inside it were gone, only the faint smell of burnt wood remaining.
Flipping the lid of the lighter shut once more, Jaune surveyed the inside of the bullhead and noticed numerous gazes, either fearful or confused turned towards him. Giving a lazy wave and a cocky smirk, Jaune simply tucked the lighter back into his chest pocket and reached down to undue the laces on his shoes. Removing the footwear, he turned it upside down and shook it lightly, causing a small rain of glass shards and a miniature cork to fall out. Satisfied, Jaune placed the shoe on the chair next to him and slowly began picking the larger pieces of glass out of his foot, letting them fall to the floor one by one. He didn't have the instruments to pluck out the smaller shards, but this would have to do for now.
With the sound of a magnetic lock releasing and a slight shudder, the bullhead began to take off, the slight motion causing many of the standing applicants to hasten to the seats lining the outside of the aircraft. By the time the majority of people were settled, there were several seats to either side of Jaune left unfilled. Smirking, Jaune fit his shoe back onto his foot and leaned back in his chair once more, lightly tapping his foot against the floor. Tap, tap, tap-tap. Tap, tap, tap-tap.
Two steps down, one thousand and one to go.
My name is Jaune Constantine Arc. I'm the one who'll take your money, take your heart, and leave you wanting more. I'll chase away your demons, all charm and arrogance, and use your gratitude as a weapon against you. I'll walk away with a nod and a wink and leave you thinking I'll come back one day. I walk my path alone because there's nobody else to walk it with me.
My name is Jaune Constantine Arc. And I'm the one who will kill Professor Ozpin. For good.
End AN: Well, hopefully that was fun for some of you and wasn't too terrible for the rest. As you can see, there's some hints of what happened in the past sprinkled in here, although we probably won't get to the actual details for a bit. Hopefully this Jaune is fun to read, I've been trying to express what's going on with his actions more than his thoughts, and am not quite sure how well it worked.
And her name was Violet, if anyone was wondering.
That said, there's not a ton left to say here, except that the magic system will (probably) be explained in future chapters. Hope to see y'all next time!