Lifted

Edited by the one and only Cr00cy

Lulu-chan was kind enough to provide us with the amazing cover art of Em. I highly encourage you to go check them out on Twitter, Pat reon, and Pixiv

I've always enjoyed Em, she's one of the most human characters on the show. She's self-interested, vulnerable, wants love and acceptance, and isn't afraid to be a bit of an asshole. Oh, and all the snark. Always the snark.


Chapter One: Moonlit Walks and Beatings in the City of Vale

Let's talk about Jaune for a minute, shall we? I feel like it's going to kinda set the stage for a lot of this. Anywho, Jaune Arc is a puppy, simple as that.

'But Em, why is he a puppy?' You ask.

Well, he's overly friendly, can't be told no when he wants to play, and has that weird 'I need to protect this thing' aura going on.

'Aww, Em, that sounds really nice!' You say.

Well, he also has zero survival instincts, is prone to making messes that others have to clean up, and can be one of the loudest and most annoying things on the planet.

So yeah, a puppy.

And like every human being worthy of the title, when I look back, I wish I had been better to puppies.


"So, what's the plan?" I asked as we walked down the dimly lit streets of one of Vale's shadier corridors. Well, I walked, Jaune kinda stumbled along. That boy gets motion sick like you wouldn't believe.

Jaune, for his part, stared at me with his big, stupid, lovable puppy face and said. "I told you. I'm going to Beacon."

I fought to keep from rolling my eyes. "Yeah, I caught that when we hopped on a Bullhead in the middle of the night. Any idea as to how you're going to get in?"

He shuffled a little in place. "Well….."

I stopped. "Jaune."

"You're going to get mad." He said, refusing to look me in the eye.

"No, I'm not." I promised with an even a tone as I could manage.

I was.

"So, I met this guy online-"

"Sounds solid already."

"-And he said that he could forge me an application." He explained.

I let out a sigh of relief. Ok, it wasn't as bad as I thought. "Ok, where are supposed to meet this guy for the exchange?"

Jaune cocked his head to the side. "Exchange?"

"Yeah, you know, the money for the docs?"

His eyes lit up in understanding. "Oh! I already paid the guy. We're just picking up the transcripts."

You ever get so mad that you consider doing something that will definitely make the 6 o'clock news? Apparently some of it bled through to my face, because Jaune winced and took a step back.

"Is that bad?" He asked.

"Nah, Jaune. I'm sure we can trust…"

"G3nt13manTh31f420." He provided.

"-to be an honorable sort. I mean, I've never heard of anyone taking advantage of people over the internet."

He sighed. "Em, you're doing that thing with you voice."

"What thing, Jaune?" I asked, innocently.

I knew the thing.

"It's like sarcasm, but somehow even more condescending." He accused.

"Whatever do you mean, Jaune?" I asked, my voice getting steadily higher and angrier. "Why would I be upset about you dragging me out to Vale without money or a plan, hoping that you've met the one trustworthy Mistrilean prince in the world?"

"Hey, I didn't make you come." He shot back, which was good, because I wanted to fight.

"Me or any other woman," I mocked, just to be a dick. "And yeah, and I'm sure that nobody would have gotten weird about it if I stayed. 'Huh, Jaune left and stole something. I wonder who could have possibly given him that idea.'''

He scoffed. "They wouldn't have blamed you."

He was right, but I've never let that stop me before.

"Oh? You can see into the future now? Well that's good, cause the last time I checked, we're poor in Vale and hoping that your Vacuian bride site buddy pulls through. Tell me, when that shit blows up in our face, what are going to do?"

He sighed in frustration, like I was the asshole here, and had the balls to say. "It'll work itself out."

I had a good little laugh at that. "It'll work itself out? How's that going to happen, Jaune? You think that the answer is just going to fall into our-"

The sound of glass shattering filling the night air as a guy in midnight black suit crashed through a window of a Dust store and down on the street in front of us, his blood red sunglasses half falling off his face as he moaned and collapsed shut me right up.

Seriously though, what kind of an asshole wears sunglasses at night?

The answers, as it turns out, is a whole fucking bunch of them. These guys started pouring out of the building their buddy had just emergency evacuated, chasing after the little red lolita goth girl that hopped through the window a moment before. They began encircling her, promising all manner of devious things before pulling out their-

Ok, I realize now that I'm saying it aloud that it sounds like I'm describing a very different scene. Look, I don't care what you type in the search box, that whole 'don't judge' thing works both ways. Point is, they were pissed.

"We've got to help her!" Jaune said at the same time I got out:

"We should leave."

He glared that 'very upset puppy,' Jaune glare he does so well.

"Em!" He demanded.

In my defense, she was currently kicking eight kinds of shit out of the bros in black. This was going very differently than how these videos usually did. Good for her.

"Fine!" I groaned, reaching for my holstered gun-sickles. "Just remember.. "

"Go low, go often. Yeah, yeah." He yelled back as he ran off to join the fight.

If he wasn't such a dick about it, I probably would have been proud.

What is there to say about the bang bros fighting style? It was rough for sure. The first tried to hit me with a biiiiiiggg overhand chop of his axe, which I stepped out of the way before bashing him with the blunt end of my sickle. Papa Arc taught me well. As it turned out, that was a good choice, because said jazz enthusiast fell to the ground in a slump and started bleeding more than a little.

These guys didn't have Aura. I'll tell you what, as fun as a murder rap sounds, I was pretty glad I hadn't just removed ole boy's head from his shoulders with the sharp end of 'Theif's Respite.' Also, I don't want to hear it. It's my damn weapon, I'll call it what I want.

"Jaune, these guys are squishy!" I warned, before planting a foot in the next usher's groin, much to his horror. I'm never sure why they're surprised when I go for that, it's such a good option.

"Got it!" He grunted as he flattened his opponent with a shield bash that ended with a sickening crunch. That guy would be ok...probably. Concussions build character.

Goth girl wasn't doing too bad for herself either. She either had some form of speed Semblance or was on it, because she was wrecking shop on the backup dancers at hyper speed. That was, until a guy with a white trench coat and a bowler cap of all things stepped out to join the party. He popped up his cane-gun or whatever, fucking Huntsmen weapons man, and fired off a few shots at jailbait before booking it. Which coincidentally, was the best plan that I had heard all night. Goth girl apparently thought otherwise, because she chased him up the side of a building, where more and louder explosions ensued.

"We should go after them." Jaune said, because he's a fan of looking the gift horse in the mouth.

"Uh, no, we shouldn't." I countered, like the reasonable human that I am.

"Em, she could-"

The blare of sirens cut our conversation short. Never both or since have I been so happy to have the police show up quickly. Huh, must have been a nicer neighborhood than I thought.

"You ready to go now?" I shouted over their wail.

"We were helping people!" He shouted back.

"Sure we were, runaway."

"Shit." He hissed. "What do we-"

"Fucking run!"

Look, I love the Arcs and everything they've done for me. They've made me into the person that I am today. A better person than I would have been if I'd stayed out on those streets for sure. But if I were to tell you that the sound of police sirens and officers chasing doesn't make my heart beat a little bit faster and bring a smile to my face? Well, I'd be lying, and I think we had an agreement about that.

We ducked through alleyways, jumped over fences, and weaved between cars, till finally we stopped behind a Mistralian restaurant huffing and puffing, but safe for a moment.

"Gods, Em." Jaune panted. "That sucked."

"Don't be a pussy." I replied, definitely not about to cough up a lung myself.

He shook his head. "So, what now?"

"You got the meeting spot for your prince?"

"Yeah." He said, digging in his pocket and passing over a slip of paper.

"Cool, then you head back to the hotel." I said as I entered the address into my scroll and pocketed it.

His eyes widened at that. "What the hell, Em!? I'm not leaving you."

I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, drama queen. Only one of us has the weird illusion powers. It's going to be easier for me to get there on my own, rather than having to worry about dragging you along behind me."

"Gee, thanks. Really needed that confidence boost." He deadpanned.

"Anytime. You want to get into this goddamn school or not?"

He ran a hand down his face and cursed, one of the better ones I'd taught him. "Fine, meet back at the hotel?"

"Yep."

"And you'll call if anything goes wrong?" He asked, eyes searching my face for any hint of deception. Probably because he knows me too well.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, dad."

He shook his head as he found his feet. "Anything, Em. I mean it."

"Yeah, yeah, love you too, now get the hell out of here." I commanded. He mumbled something decidedly unflattering, but not necessarily inaccurate, about me as he peeked out from behind the restaurant and then started jogging down the street.

"Walk! Don't run!" I hissed after him and he pulled himself back into an awkward, and I mean awkward for Jaune, stilted gait.

It's remarkable how bad innocent people are at looking innocent.

I shook my head as I stepped out into the street a few minutes later, straightening my clothes and fixing my hair as I went. You want to stay clear of suspicion from Johnny Law? You act like you belong there. Like you own the damn place. I walked down the streets of Vale at a casual pace, playing on my scroll, passing at least half a dozen officers as I made my way to the entertainment district. Hell, I think I even pointed one in the wrong direction. Just for kicks.

Soon enough, my scroll pinged, and I found myself standing in front of a very nice looking club. Its tall black doors painstakingly crafted from fine wood with a neon sign above proudly proclaiming it 'The Club.' Hey, I never said the place was very original. I found it a little bit weird that there wasn't a bouncer at the door, keeping riffraff like myself out, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I shrugged and pushed the doors open.

Your parents ever tell you that thing about not judging a book by its cover? Well, I didn't really have any, but Mama Arc gave me the gist. Anyway, that fit 'The Club' pretty damn well. Cause on the inside? It looked like shit. Black tables and chairs lay in shattered fragments along the floor, next to the broken glass of liquor bottles and half a dozen light fixtures that stood from floor to ceiling, buzzing and flickering as they attempted to flash their gaudy-ass light show once more. The whole thing had this weird monochrome seizure look that made me think that maybe the wreckage was an improvement. I was about to walk my ass back out when I got the oh so familiar-

"Oh fuck! It's another one!"

It's nice to be wanted.

I looked over towards the bar, a single piece of ebony wood, gods but they were sticking hard to that theme, and saw my welcome party. A giant of a bearded man wearing what was left of a nice suit, holding an ice pack to his head and two black-haired girls wearing white and red dresses who, true to the theme of the club, also looked like they had recently gotten wrecked. Super tacky dresses if you ask me, but I was a bit more concerned with the long claws and bladed boots they were sporting than any of their other objectionable fashion choices. I guess I found the bouncers.

"What the hell do you want?" The big guy growled as he reached for the club sitting next to him at the bar and the two girls found their feet, moving forward as they cut to my left and right. I raised my hands in surrender.

"Easy there, big guy. I come in peace."

"Look like a Huntress." He accused.

I tsked, eyeing the girls as they tried to move into my blind spots. "Yeah, well I'm not. I'm here to talk about a doc exchange. Sound familiar?"

He scowled. "Beacon shit?"

"Yeah, that's me. You mind calling off thot patrol over here?"

He grunted before calling to the sloot one and sloot two. "Mil. Mal. She's good."

I let out a sigh of relief as they peeled off, ignoring the calls of 'bitch.' I hadn't really been looking forward to two fights in one night. Things were so much easier when you could just take what you needed and be done with it. "Thanks…"

"Junior." The big man provided, shifting away from my on his stool and picking up his ice pack again. Real helpful kind of guy, Junior.

"Well, Junior, you my contact?"

"No." Real talker, Junior.

"Ok, you know where my-"

"Just take a seat at the bar." He snapped. "He should be here in a minute. If he's coming at all."

I sighed and walked over to the bar, sliding broken glass out of the way as I took a seat a few stools down from the big guy.

"Rough night?" I asked, just to get a rise out of him. Hey, I reserve the right to be an asshole to anyone who is to me first. To people who haven't been yet too for that matter.

He snorted as he grabbed an overturned bottle and started pouring himself a drink. "Nah, it's Tuesday. Come back on Friday, shit really gets out of hand." It's possible that there's hope for this man yet.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." I allowed as I snatched a, mostly, unbroken glass off the counter. "What are we drinking, big cat?"

"I'm drinking…" he glanced at the bottle again, "bourbon. You were about to sit there quietly on account of you being in my bar and underaged."

I leaned back on my stool and spotted my prom dress fan club staring daggers at me as they sipped on martinis from the other end of the bar. I raised an eyebrow at the giant. "Yeah?"

"They're employees." He argued.

"Still illegal."

"Says the girl here to buy illegal shit."

"The thirsty girl here to buy illegal shit." I corrected.

He sighed as he lifted up the bottle and I held out my glass for what was a much healthier pour than I anticipated. Guy really was having a rough night.

"Thanks." I said, cause Mama Arc raised me right.

"Whatever." He grumbled as I started to knock the drink back. "Just don't-"

It got hard to hear him at that point because of the coughing fit I was having, bent double over the bar. Here's a pro tip, big strong Screwdriver and Margarita drinking girl you might be, but that the brown shit burns.

"Overdo it." He finished tiredly. "Can't handle your liquor, huh?"

"Burns!" I informed him, just in case he wasn't in the know.

"It's an acquired taste." He explained.

"It's garbage." I informed him, wiping the swill from my mouth.

He sighed again. Big sigher, Junior. Acts like he's got a bunch of stress in his life or something. "I could put it in an Old Fashioned and you'd probably like it, but…" he looked around the ravaged club, "fuck that."

"I'll bet you like old fashioneds." I grumbled, earning a small giggle from the popular girls' table.

He scowled, "is that an old joke or a-"

"Yes."

"You know, there's a great street corner outside you can go wait on. Given the way you're dressed, I'm sure that it won't be a new experience for you."

"Ouch, that stings. Especially from a guy named, John." I shot back.

He scowled. "How did you know-"

I hummed noncommittally as I flipped through his wallet on the bar counter top, rifling through his lien and sandwich cards. That got his attention. Don't really like being called a whore. Call it a personal preference.

His face twisted into a snarl, "You little-"

"Junior!" A new voice shouted from the door. "What the fuck! Are all your boys complete fuck-ups, or do you just save those for me?" Well, guess my guy was here.

The anger drained from Junior's face in an instant and the exhaustion returned as he spun around to face behind us. "Goddammit, Roman, I'm not in the mood for your shit. Where are the boys?"

"Hell if I know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Junior growled.

"I mean I don't know! We ran into Hunters!" The voice shot back.

Uh-oh.

"There's not supposed to be any in the city right now!"

"Yeah, how's that working out for you? Looks like you ran into some issues of your own." The voice snapped. "And who's that?"

Junior lazily gestured towards me. "Your customer. Says she bought some of your bullshit Beacon transcripts."

Roman groaned behind her. "Fine, let's just get this over with. At least one thing can go as planned tonight."

You ever know what's waiting for you, but you just kinda think that maybe if you don't look at it, it'll go away?

"You gonna turn around sweetcheeks, or am I walking?" Roman asked, clearly ready to do just that.

Well, when you put it like that. I spun around on my stool and smiled as brightly as I could.

"G3nt13manth31f420?"

I'll tell you, he turned out to be pretty fast on the draw. But the look on his face?

Worth it.


Memory Lane

I did what any sane person would do my first night in the Arc household.

I tried to run away.

Unfortunately for me, it was during one of the worst rain storms of the year, but what are you going to do?

I got up in the middle of the night, slipped out of the over sized and worn out clothes Mama Arc had thrown on me, and grabbed my old clothes – which was a very generous term for them – and slowly, ever so slowly, started to sneak down the hall. I was understandably pretty wary at this point, since Papa Arc had proven to be some form of cat faunus with his ability to pick up on 12-year-old girl footsteps when he'd snatched me up earlier.

I spent what felt like half-an-hour tiptoeing my way past their door, praying that there weren't a bunch of loose and creaky boards in this already loony toons house.

There were.

Once I'd finally cleared that anxiety attack, I made my way down the stairs, which seemed to be trying to outdo the floorboards for being loud as fuck. From there, it was just a short walk through the kitchen to get to the back-

"What are you doing?"

You ever spaz the fuck out? I mean, like a cat does when you let off an air horn or throw down a cucumber around it? So hard that you actually fall to the ground? Then you try to play that shit off? It ever work out for you?

Yeah, me neither.

There was Jaune, sitting at the kitchen table, in the middle of the night, eating a gigantic bowl of Pumpkin Pete's.

I scrambled to my feet and straightened my shitty clothes like that somehow made the whole thing look less ridiculous.

"Nothin."

He stared at me for a minute, shoveling more of that sugary garbage into his mouth, before answering.

"Ok."

I didn't really know what to say to that, so I decided on the dumbest thing I could think of.

"What are you doing?"

He looked down at his cereal, looked back up at me, and just shrugged.

"Nothin."

"Ok." I said, because I'm not sure what you're supposed to say to that. Jaune just took another bite, chewed for about half as long as he should have, then asked-

"Ou 'ant ome?"

I looked at the door, the rain slamming up against the thick panes of glass like it was determined to break though, then back at Jaune, dry as a bone. I decided that I did kinda want to try some. You know, before I left for good.

And that's how I found out that I didn't like Pumpkin Pete's.

But I did like Jaune.


The Storm on the High Seas

The lighting slashes through the night sky, illuminating our dire circumstances once more. Giant waves, far taller than the ship itself as far as the eye can see, all threatening to turn us over and throw the crew into the icy waters. Dozens of terrified faces stare out into the black abyss as darkness takes hold once more. We must do something if we are to survive this baby and see our ship to port. I spot a familiar face stumbling along the decks and reach out to right him.

"Crooc!"

The thunder is deafening as booms through the air like so many cannons, drowning out the cries of the sailors. I shake my head and try again.

"Crooc! Where is the captain?"

"There!" He points up to the wheel, where the Spooky one is fighting in vain against the pull of the ocean, Burk shouting directions in his ear.

Lighting rips through the night once more, and up on the mast I can see the Bear of Black and White and the Amorous Father working desperately with Demy to pull the sails down as the rain pelts them and the wind threatens to tear them from their perches.

"Crooc." I say as the darkness returns, and the sounds of the hull straining and groaning along with it. "We're not going to make it."

"No." He answers, as calm as always.

A brutal and heartrending crack fills the air one last time as the planks of the ships decks are torn asunder and we split from stem to stern.

I am falling. We are falling in the darkness. Tossed into the air like children's toys from the ship that we had thought invincible.

The last thing I remember is the dark and cold waters of fandom claiming me once more.


I hope you're enjoying this weirdness. Just a reminder that the chapters are going to start coming in two week cycles from here on out.

Also, I thought long and hard about whether or not I wanted to do this, but I decided to start a ko-fi page. I'm using it save up money for when I stop being a pansy and decide to pursue publishing something original.

It's ko-fi dot com slash jiu_jitsudude

If you feel like you'd like to throw in a few bucks, I'm honored. If not, I'm still going to keep on writing. It's cheaper than therapy.