Lifted

Cr00cy, I think they're back...why are they back?

We're a day early this time because tomorrow will be busy, but expect us to rotate back to Monday releases after this. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Chapter Two: Terms of Employment


Roman Torchwick and Neo Politan are two people that I have very complicated feelings about, shaped by shared misery and mutual antagonism.

I hate. I don't hate them. I un-hate them. Like would be a very strong word, but I wouldn't necessarily hate you for using it.

They're selfish, they're arrogant, and they're survivors. First and foremost, they will always be survivors. And...I don't know, I guess that's just something that I get. I can understand that feeling.

Again, doesn't mean I'd piss on them to put them out if they were on fire, but…

I also really hope they made it out.


Let's talk about gun violence for a minute, shall we? That sounds like fun, doesn't it?

You get all these movies where you see a guy, who sometimes has never touched a gun before, and they whip that shit out one-handed and shoot a guy in the head from across an airport. You ever try that shit? It's fucking hard.

Hell, even pulling the pistol out smoothly and calmly takes a lot of practice. Especially in different positions, like, I don't know, sitting on a shaky bar stool in a recently wrecked club. But here's the kicker, my reaction to seeing a gun pointed at me generally hasn't been to remain calm. It's usually somewhere more along the:

Fuckohfuckholyshitfuck, train of thought. Maybe you're a lot cooler than I am, but I kinda made that whole 'no lies' promise thing up front.

Point being, I was really proud when my pistol came out smooth and my hand didn't shake. Too much. Cause on the inside?

I was shitting myself.

You're not supposed to let the other guy know that though, so I just stared Torchwick down, not trusting myself to not say something dumb. Junior didn't have that problem though.

"What do you think you're doing!?" He roared at Roman. Well, probably Roman and me, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm about to remodel a section of your bar for you, Junior." The man jerked his head to the side. "Step away for me, won't you?"

Fuck, how is he being that smooth right now?

"No. Nuh-uh. Not happening in my bar!"

I felt my finger start to choke up on the trigger as I watched Roman do the same. "I'm pretty sure it is, big guy."

I briefly thought about trying to hop behind the bar for cover before Junior, in either one of the ballsier or more 'I'm fucking done with this' moves I've ever seen, stood up and moved between us.

"Not a great place to be, big cat." I warned, my mouth finally working again.

"Shut up." He shot back. Apparently we weren't friends like that. "Roman, you don't come into my house with this bullshit." He said, jabbing a finger towards the mobster. "You either talk it out here like adults or you take that shit outside. My bar has seen enough for one night."

The fashion disaster stared Junior down through the barrel of his ridiculous ass weapon for a minute before letting out a long sigh and letting it fall to his side.

"Always making things harder than they have to be." He grumbled. "Fine, let's just get this over and done. What do you what, girly?"

"Not to be called 'girly' for one, but I'd settle for those transcripts."

He barked a laugh at that. I could tell that we weren't probably going to be friends. "Well, I think you're going to strike out on both fronts, girly. I'm not too inclined to be too generous at the moment. It's been a bit of a disappointing night."

"How does it feel to be on the other side of that for once?" A snort from Thot Patrol told me the girls thought that was funny, which was good news. I was in trouble if all these guys were on good terms. Shockingly, Torchwick wasn't a fan.

"I've changed my mind. How would you like to step outside for a minute?" He asked, spinning his cane theatrically.

"No." Junior snapped again before pointing at a stool at the bar. "Sit." And to my surprise, Roman did just that. He grumbled the whole way over, but over he came, pulling out the stool and leaning back against the bar.

"You mind if I smoke?" He asked the air as he fished a cigar out of his coat pocket.

"Not really a fan." I said as he pulled out a lighter and began to toast the end anyway. What an asshole.

"Oh? That's too bad." He replied, purposefully puffing smoke in my face as he turned towards me. "Now, I believe we were discussing payment."

I snorted. "We were discussing delivery. You got your money."

He laughed at that. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot about that shit. Who pays for something like that without proof of delivery anyway? Not very smart, girly."

I silently counted to ten and promised myself that I'd be having a long conversation about elicit business ethics with Jaune after this.

"Someone's not too bright anyway." I snapped. "Now hand it over."

He sighed and shrugged. "Unfortunately, no can do."

"Pretty sure you can."

"Yeah, I could do a lot of things if I was so inclined." He took a long drag of his cigar and blew it right in my face. I fought to keep from giving him that satisfaction of exploding into a coughing fit. "But I'm not."

"And why's that? The cost of mascara go up?"

"As a matter of fact, I think it has." He leaned in, bringing his face and burning cigar practically next to my own. "I think it's gone up something to the tune of a few hundred thousand lien. Strangely enough, that's the same cost of you walking out of here on your own two feet." His hand shifted subtly towards his cane. "Sound fair to you?"

Good rule of thumb for intimidation, you should always try to dominate as much space as possible. It's called personal space for a reason, and when you take that away from someone, they start to sweat. I know I did.

But here's the fun thing about having an illusion Semblance, you don't have to have a great poker face as long as your opponent thinks you do. I let Roman think I was staring him down while I took a quick glance around the room. Junior was watching us tensely, the bimbo twins by his side, ready to jump in if we started to destroy his bar. Well, what was left of it. He didn't look too concerned about Roman's little offer though, which meant I was on my own.

Shit.

"Hey, girly." Roman growled, drawing my eyes back. "I asked you a question."

"Hm? Sorry, got lost in your guyliner."

"Cute. Let me try one more time. Hell, I'll even bring it down to your reading level for you." He offered with a small flourish of his cigar, before making a very unsubtle move towards his weapon. "You pay me, or I start fixing up this bar by giving everything a fresh coat of paint. I'm thinking red. Sound fair to you?"

That dried my throat out just a bit. I was stuck. I may make people's shiny things disappear from time to time, but I didn't have near that kind of dough. Worse, it didn't look like anyone was going to be jumping to my aid any time soon. I needed to get out of there, and fast. I started to draw on my Aura and used my Semblance to let Roman see what he wanted to see, a frightened and vulnerable girl, not too far off from the truth, and let my hand fall towards the gun on my hip.

"Yeah, Roman, sounds real fair." I said slowly.

As my hand touched the grip of my pistol, I felt something cold press against the side of my neck. Now, everyone reacts to having a knife, or at least I assumed it was a knife, could have been a pitchfork-knife-bazooka combo knowing Hunters, held to their throat a little differently. I've seen people break down and freak out, which is pretty understandable if you ask me. I've seen people get angry and loud, not my personal suggestion, but hey, you do you. I've seen people try to play it cool as long as they can and talk their way out - Roman seemed like the type. I've even seen some people straight up deny that it's happening to them, which just turns out awkward for everyone.

Me?

Well, I tend to sit up real straight, stop doing anything that can remotely be considered threatening, and become a very attentive listener. I know, because it's what I was doing right now. You're welcome to tell me how I could and should have reacted in said situation, but until you're the one with the knife to their neck, you're also free to go fuck yourself.

Roman, smug bastard that he is, just grinned a saluted with his cigar.

"I see you've met Neo."

I grunted as the blade bit a little deeper and my Aura flashed. He tsked.

"Don't be rude, girly, introduce yourself."

I briefly considered lying, for whatever good it'd do me, but decided against it because they could always check my scroll and I like my neck how it is. Intact.

"Emerald. Charmed." I offered weakly.

He hummed. "I don't think it fits."

"I dunno, always kinda thought it worked with the hair."

"True, but you're not very bright. Not with trying to pull something like that..." He motioned towards my weapon. "...in a place like this." He cocked his head to the side. "Did you really think that you could come into my house-" Junior coughed somewhere behind us and Roman sighed. "My friend's house and threaten me?"

I felt like saying that he started it, but once again, sharp things scare me.

"You know I can't pay you if I'm dead, right?" I blurted out, real smooth like.

He chuckled. "Oh, don't you worry your little six out of ten little head. I intend to make you pay off every last lien. I'm putting you to work."

What I thought about that must have shown, because I has only about halfway to my revolver before Neo slammed my head down on the bar, denting the dark wood and pinning me in place with her blade. I looked up in a panic at a confused Roman with my eye that wasn't currently admiring the wood grain pattern Junior had selected. A second later he blinked and rolled his eyes.

"Maidens, not like that. I want to make money, not scare people away."

"Go fuck yourself." I growled.

He laughed and pointed with his cigar. "Yeah, see? Completely the wrong sales pitch for that line of work. No, I think I've got something else in mind. Something based on that little magic trick you just pulled. It's your Semblance, right? Tell me about it."

"I make people see things." I made an unflattering noise as my head got ground into the bar further.

He sighed. "Details, please. I'm assuming that it doesn't work on everyone in the room since my partner there spotted what you were up to."

"I do illusions, they only really work on the person that I'm focusing on." Now, that's not entirely true, but a girl got to keep a few secrets here and there. Roman watched me for a minute, seeing if I'd spill anymore before looking across the room.

"Junior?"

I heard the big guy grunt from somewhere behind me. "Yeah, I saw her go for it. Dumb brat."

Hurtful, big cat.

Roman grinned as he looked back down at me. "Girly, do I have a deal for you. Not only do you get to walk out of here on your own too feet, but guess what? You get to put those neat little tricks of yours to work here on a nightly basis. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

The blade grinding against my neck told me that indeed, I should be excited.

"Hooray." I exclaimed.

I fucking tried, ok?

"What are you planning, Roman?" Junior grumbled.

"Why Junior, my good friend-"

"We're not friends." The giant said.

"Junior, my dedicated business associate." Roman corrected without breaking stride. "I just found you a ringer for your little fun and games down stairs."

None of this was sounding remotely better.

"I don't need any help." Big cat shot back.

Roman hummed as he looked around the bar. "You sure about that, Junior? Looks to me like you're going to be operating in the red for a while."

"I'll manage." Junior answered defensively. "It's just going to take me some time to get back on my feet."

Roman sighed at that. "Time you know we don't have, bestest buddy. Not with the bitch in red hanging over our heads."

"I still blame you for that." He countered.

"Doesn't really matter one way or the other anymore. Now, you gonna take this or leave money on the table 'cause of pride?"

As the 'this' in question, I felt the need to insert myself into the negotiations. Also, Junior's bar was sticky. I coughed.

"Can 'this' get up now?" I asked.

He shot me a bored look. "Depends, is 'this' going to behave?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Sure, next time Neo can put you through the bar."

"No she won't!" Junior snapped.

I sighed. "I'll be good."

Roman shrugged and nodded to whoever was holding me down. A second later, the cold pressure on my neck disappeared and I groaned as I picked myself up off the bar, admiring the face shaped imprint in the dark wood. Rubbing my neck, I turned to see who had gotten the drop on me. And wasn't that a blow to my pride?

I swear that I wasn't trying to be an asshole when I looked straight over her. Well, that time I wasn't at least. She helpfully brought my gaze down with a kick to the shins.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed.

The little multicolored lolita complex grinned evilly and waved.

"Ah, glad to see you're getting along." Roman cheered as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Creep. "So, what do you think, Neo? Is our new friend going to make it on team Roman?" The imp huffed and pointed to herself while stomping her foot. The thief sighed, do you think she's going to make it on team Neo?" He corrected.

The miniature woman smiled brightly before looking up at the ceiling, tapping her finger against her chin. After a minute, she stuck out her tongue and pointed a thumb down.

"Well, good thing you're a terrible judge of character then." He replied.

"Is it too late to go back to the ass kicking?" I mumbled.

"Never, girly."

"It's Emerald."

"Girly." He agreed.

I slowly counted to ten and pushed down the urge to make another go for my gun.

"And what exactly am I doing on team Roma-" Lolita shot me a glare. "Team Neo?"

Roman laughed and slapped me on the back a little harder than necessary as he let me go. "That's a good question, girly. Junior, why don't you fill her in?" He suggested as he snatched his cane off the bar stool.

"Don't you leave me with this." The big guy growled.

The thief shrugged innocently as he started to make his way towards the door, Neo in tow. "Sorry, old buddy, I've got damage control to take care of. Our mutual acquaintance isn't taking tonight's botched job too well. Thanks for that by the way, girly."

"Anytime." I offered, finding that I felt a little bit braver now that I didn't have a sword pressed up against my neck.

"Don't make a habit of it." He advised, twirling his cane meaningfully as he neared the door.

"Hey!" I shouted after him. He stopped and turned slowly, glaring at me. I imagine it might have been menacing if I wasn't infinitely more worried about his little murder machine starting to walk back my way.

"Yes?" He drawled.

"I want those records." Maybe I'd gotten a concussion earlier, 'cause I'm usually not quite so dumb.

He looked at me for a second, seeming to consider whether or not to sic Neo on me, before shaking his head and chuckling. "You've got guts, girly."

That is very much untrue.

He sighed and reached into his coat, pulling out a small flash drive and tossing it my way. I caught it and nodded at the thief.

"Thanks."

He laughed again as he turned and made his way back to the door. "See that, Junior? I taught her manners. You're welcome."

"Go fuck yourself, Roman." The giant shot back.

"We'll keep working on you." The man lamented as he disappeared into the darkness of the night, leaving me standing next to a very upset Junior. I smiled weakly and held out a hand.

"No hard feelings?" He stared at my outstretched hand like it was covered in shit.

"You're paying for that bar."

Well, at least we're starting off on the right foot. As Junior led me down the stairs in the back of the club to his basement, and damn if that still doesn't sound creepy, I decided to work on our budding friendship.

"So, do I get to choose which torture device you're going to use on me first, or is there like a roulette wheel? I'm just trying to mentally prepare myself."

"You're lucky I don't water board you with that bourbon you like so much with that shit you pulled." He said.

We weren't the jokey kind of friends yet apparently. But for real, I'm was pretty concerned about this basement situation. A concern that wasn't eased at all when we reached the bottom of the stairs, coming to a stop at a giant red door with a demon head knocker growling back at us. I felt the urge to tell him how that made me feel, but for the sake of my continued well-being and Junior's blood pressure, I decided to go with:

"What's this?"

"Where you'll be working off your debt." He answered.

My hand may or may not have unconsciously shifted towards my weapon again. Luckily, big cat didn't notice.

"Stop that. It's not like that."

He may have noticed.

"But we can agree that this looks real sex dungeony, right?" I asked.

He sighed as he fished a set of keys out of his pocket, selecting an ancient, ornate looking thing. You know the one, the one that looks like it goes to your grandma's house or your diary. They're harder to pick for some reason by the way. Let's not worry too much about how I know that. I couldn't help myself when he slotted the key in the door and turned it with an ominous 'thunk.'

"See, your silence and that key aren't really helping the situation."

He chose to ignore me again, which is both a solid policy and really fucking annoying. He swung open the door and revealed a pitch black room that reeked of smoke and alcohol. I'd already opened my mouth for my next incredibly clever comment when the big guy reached out and flicked a switch next to the door. Whatever I'd been about to say died on my tongue.

It was fucking magical.

Poker tables, roulette wheels, craps, and slot machines of every conceivable shape and size covered every inch of the giant, spacious room. No game of chance was left out. Hell, I think I saw a bingo section in the corner for the old folks. Plush red carpets with golden accents covered the floors, created corridors along with the machines that led you from one station of sin to another. There was a stage that dominated the center of the room, a raised obsidian platform that you could see from anywhere along the casino floor. I felt my jaw drop as I tried to take it all in.

"Finally, something shut you up." Junior mumbled approvingly.

"It's a casino!" I articulated.

"Yeah, looks that way."

"You own a casino!" I was batting a thousand.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I do. Is it so hard to believe that I might have another source of income?"

"Buy why!? How!?"

He snorted. "Cause money and human tendency, in that order."

"The club-"

"A front, one that helps us launder the cash from this little wonderland." He explained. "People like to drink, and the club does alright for itself, but you know what people really like to do? Gamble while they drink." He shrugged. "I'm just the guy that provides them a place to do both."

I shook my head. "But isn't gambling illegal in Vale?"

You ever say something so stupid that you wish that a bus would hit you, just so you wouldn't have to be in that conversation anymore? The look big cat shot me certainly didn't help.

"Yeah, I've got a feeling that this will be the least of our worries if the cops ever really start to dig into our business."

"Why don't they?" There you go brain, a legitimate question. Good for you.

"Money and human tendency, kid."

"My name is Em." I corrected. "And that doesn't really answer my question."

He eyeballed me for a moment before deciding that it wasn't worth the fight.

"Well, Em, we pay off the police when we need to, but it's hardly ever necessary. That law is one of the least popular in the country, and no one gets hurt here, so it's a victim-less crime. I pay my taxes, so it's not like the city isn't getting their cut."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "You pay taxes?"

He smirked. "Well, I pay some taxes. Several members of the Council have been known to frequent here, so nobody has been in a rush to audit me yet."

I whistled. "This sounds like a pretty sweet gig."

"It is."

"So, why the Dust robbery thing?"

He winced at that. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, ki- Em."

Well, it'd been worth a shot.

I hummed. "And where do I fit into all of this?"

"You," he said, clapping me on the shoulder. "Are going to be working down here."

"I think it's going to take a while to pay off my debt as a cocktail waitress."

"Stop being a smartass." He growled, to which I had a good little internal chuckle. "You're going to be using that Semblance of yours to shift the odds in our favor when needed."

"That sounds like cheating." I pointed out.

"How ever will I live with myself?" He deadpanned.

I felt my appreciation for Junior growing.

I shrugged. "Ok, sounds easy enough. When do I start?"

He scoffed. "Right fucking now. I don't know if you recall, but the club is in shambles thanks to that Huntress bitch, and we're going to put your ass to work."

I felt my appreciation for Junior drop steeply.

"You're making me clean?"

"Yep." He said, popping the 'P' like an asshole as he jerked a thumb back up the stairs. "Ask the girls where we keep the brooms and such. That's not really their thing, but I've got a feeling the boys aren't going to be too happy to see you."

Oh yeah, that.

"But I've got to get back to my hotel!" I protested.

"No, you don't. As far as I'm concerned, you're on house arrest until Roman or I say otherwise. Don't need you disappearing into the night. There's a room upstairs you can use." He offered.

It took a lot of effort not to tell Junior that I wasn't his dad, and that I wasn't going to be disappearing into the night while going out to buy a pack of smokes. I decided against it because, A) survival instincts, and B) I realized he had no reason to trust me. So instead I just huffed like the mature adult I am and said:

"Fine, but can I at least call my friend?"

He shrugged and turned to start heading up the stairs. "I said house arrest, not prison. Do whatever you want." He paused and looked back over his shoulder. "As long as 'whatever you want' includes cleaning up the bar. Close the door behind you."

I sighed and nodded, too tired to argue. I pulled out my scroll and dialed the familiar number. Jaune's concerned face lit up the screen roughly a nano second later.

"Em! Thank the gods, are you ok!?"

I smiled for him, trying to put him at ease. "Yeah, I'm doing...good."

He scowled at my tone. Never was great at keeping secrets from Jaune.

"Em, for real, what's going on?"

I winced. "So, I've got good news and bad news."


Memory Lane

I learned something very important about Jaune the morning after our little impromptu meeting in the kitchen during my failed runaway.

Namely, Jaune Arc wasn't a snitch.

That little blond insomniac didn't say a goddamn word at breakfast. Just sat there, in the exact same place that was the night before, eating the same gross cereal. Seriously though, who likes Pumpkin Pete's?

I guess the cereal thing is besides the point. The point is, I was suspicious...but also kinda hopeful. You don't find a lot of people out there that'll keep their mouths shut just for the sake of it. So, I waited as Mama Arc packed up our lunches for the day, which turned out to be amazing, and shooed us out the door to go to school. Now, that doesn't sound like a lot of prep work for having a new kid, but in her defense as a parent, she did hand me a note that explained who I was to the Arc family to give to the school and sent Crystal, the oldest of the Arc sisters, to watch over me.

On the other hand, she clearly wasn't aware that Crystal had a boyfriend that she beelined off to drive to school with every morning. She also didn't figure that I'd ditch the note as soon as Crystal booked it. Mama Arc is not always the best judge of character. Sees too much of the good in people. That's probably where Jaune gets it, come to think of it.

This left me in a pretty interesting position. My head was still telling me that I should run from this crazy ass family before I found out there was some real demon worship stuff going on in the Arc family basement, being on the back of a milk carton was not the kind of famous that I wanted to be. But my heart, dumb two-drink-Tina for kindness that she is, demanded that I know why he hadn't ratted me out. So instead of pushing Jaune down and making a run for it, I followed him down the dirt road towards the bus stop, staring at his X-Ray and Valve backpack and trying to think of some way to express my gratitude and ask him why he'd done it. I decided on-

"What the fuck was that about?"

Jaune just turned and looked at me over his shoulder. "Mom says we're not supposed to curse."

"Fuck what your mom says." I shot back, which is another reason I know Jaune's not a snitch, because if Mama Arc had ever heard that, she would have kicked my ass. "Why didn't you tell them I tried to run away?"

He shrugged, which I was learning is a very Jaune thing to do. "I just thought you wanted some food."

Well shit. If he didn't know I tried to run before, he sure knew now. I coughed and tried to put my patented Em charm to work to recover the situation.

"Uh, yeah, that's what I meant...why didn't you tell your mom that I was trying to steal your food?" Em, you wordsmith.

He gave me a look that said he thought I was as stupid as I currently felt. "Uh, cause it's your food too?"

Just like that. I was a total stranger and this kid had accepted me as part of his weird family. Was willing to share his food with me. That may not seem like a lot to you, but coming from a pretty calorie strained environment, that was unbelievable. As a side note, it's also unbelievable that someone hasn't kidnapped all of the Arc children at this point with how trusting the family is. We reached the bus stop at the end of the road and I searched for a tactful way of asking what I wanted to know. I went with-

"Hey, hypothetically-" That was a pretty big word I knew that I was pretty proud of, "if I had been running away...would you have told your mom?"

Jaune chewed on that for a minute, humming as he made little circles in the dust with his sneaker. In the distance, I could see the bus starting to approach. I needed an answer now.

"Would it have stopped you from wanting to run away?" He asked after awhile.

"No." I answered immediately, watching the bus turn from the main street onto the smaller road that we were waiting on. He took a lot longer than I was comfortable with before replying.

"I guess not. I mean, what would be the point, right? You either want to be here or you don't."

And just like that, I decided that Jaune was a guy that I could trust. Provisionally, of course. I still had to see how cool he really was. And as the school bus came to a squeaky, screeching halt in front of us, I decided to do just that.

"Hey, Jaune?"

"Yeah?"

"You know what three card monte is?"


Strange New Ground

The first thing that I remember after the seas swallowed me was the feeling of cold sand against my cheek. I let out a low groan as I pushed myself up off the beach and spat salt water back down into the surf.

It was then that the panic seized my heart.

I shot up to my feet and scanned my surroundings. Sand. Dunes of dark, cold sand as far as my eyes could see in either direction, with a black, ominous cliff standing sentinel over the sea. But my crew?

My crew was nowhere to be seen.

I began my slow, torturous walk along the sands, picking up one of the ship's discarded oars along the way to use as a crutch. After what felt like hours, I had almost given up hope. It was only then that I saw him, his fine uniform hanging in ruined tatters off of him, torn by the harsh seas of fandom.

Sir Crooc.

I rush to him and we fall to the sands once more in relief, exhausted survivors in a strange land. After a few moments of rest and greeting, I place my hand on my old friend's shoulder.

"Crooc, what is this place?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not really sure, some place odd." He jerks a thumb back towards the way he came. "There was a sound back that way though."

"A sound you say?"

"Aye, a deafening crash, over and over again. I know not what it is, but it is the only other thing I've seen or heard."

I sigh as I push the oar into the sand, straining against it to rise once more and holding a hand out for Crooc. "Then I suppose we best be off. It shant investigate itself."

As we journey back the way Crooc was marooned, the noise did indeed reach our ears. A terrible boom that repeated over and over again like a giant striking an enormous drum. As we grew nearer and the sound grew louder, Crooc point to a narrow path leading up the cliff face, towards the noise. Our accent was perilous, and we both nearly fell, but up we continued to climb. All the while, the noise grew more and more clear and clear, until we understood it not to be one boom, but hundreds of booms, constantly answering each other back and forth. It was only when the crested the cliff that we understood why. To our great horror, as far as the eye could see and the mind could conceive…

It was a battlefield.


Well, I'm having fun. I hope you're having fun.

If you decide that you feel so inclined, I'm at ko-fi dot com slash jiu_jitsudude

Once again, I'm still going to keep on writing either way. This just helps with future projects.