Author's Note:
A couple of things you may want to be aware of before diving in.
Upgrade (2018) is absolutely a hidden gem of a sci-fi movie that you should definitely check out if you haven't, though, for the purpose of reading this story, prior knowledge is not required.
If you've ever wondered how Aura would fare against futuristic, human augmentation tech, this story is for you. You should expect deep character exploration, some action, some romance, and a fair amount of liberal worldbuilding (Which means, don't expect 100% adherence to RWBY's lore/plot, I'm going to bring my own ideas and fresh outlook into this, so It might be helpful to think of this as an AU story.)
Also, OOC Jaune. The rest of the cast should feel in character.
Credit goes to Coeur Al'Aran for the Arc family names and excellent characterization.
And lastly, any feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
Enjoy!
This story is also cross-posted on A03, Sufficient Velocity, and SpaceBattles.
Chapter 1: Aura Evaluation Machine
Jaune Arc wanted to become strong.
He wasn't even sure why.
One morning, for some inexplicable reason, he rolled out of his bed after a particularly disturbing nightmare and forced himself to do one push-up.
The next day he did ten, and the day after that, twenty.
From then on, Jaune would bring himself to failure, and past that. Panting and grunting loudly, much to the annoyance of his still sleeping sisters, he would push against the floor until his arms seared, his shoulders creaked ominously and his pelvis was all but brushing wooden tiles. Whenever he wanted to stop, whenever he reached that range of reps where his body began to actively rebel against his mental commands, that look surfaced. Her look. Not a look of pity, or disappointment, but of dismissal. Loss of respect.
Jaune had approached her, introduced himself, and made her laugh. A rare stroke of luck, given that his meager attempts at humor were delivered with a straight face and more often than not received with straighter faces. Their conversation was just about to evolve beyond the current state of the weather, when Derek came over and made him small. Or small in her eyes, and that was all that mattered.
Jaune couldn't care less. She wasn't someone worth worrying about if she preferred the company of the likes of Derek, who was undoubtedly a complete waste of organic matter. Jaune had apologized profusely with his trademark bow, grabbed his bag, and left, both the classroom and the memory of what had transpired.
Why had he kept seeing that look months later?
Over and over again, her judging eyes surfaced to haunt him, spurring him awake early every morning and refusing to fade until sufficient bodily punishment had been inflicted. At some point, he realized that wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to keep that baffling uneasiness at bay.
Jaune wanted, no, needed to unlock his Aura, yet his own quite extensive knowledge on the subject, along with the one relevant book he'd uncovered, hiding in the self-help section of a library he'd never bothered visiting before, painted a grim picture. His searches over the Remnant Wide Web had all but confirmed it; years of meditation, intense physical training, extreme mental training, and a rare talent. Everything he lacked.
None of this was much of a surprise to him. Aura-related statistics had crowded half the board in his Grimm Studies class; their teacher making sure to drill the harsh reality into their 'thick heads'. The gist of it all was, without getting into specific figures which Jaune didn't care to memorize, that unless showing great promise in childhood, the average citizen lacked a reasonable incentive to unlock their Aura. It wasn't economical, or something like that. Jaune was more of a bottom-line type of guy.
Even so, the specifics suddenly did interest him, therefore, he decided to include basic meditation in his training routine. More accurately, a list of exercises supposedly designed to help him sense his Aura. He found it on a somewhat obscure forum on the RWW, which was filled with young guys and girls obsessed with Aura, and with unlocking their own Aura, and with the Grimm. Some were even Signal rejects, if their claims were to be believed.
So when BallsDeepAndGrimm posted about the new, shiny Aura Evaluation Machine that Atlas had gifted Signal Academy, Jaune saw his path forward.
A path that led him to a medical chair with metal instruments sticking out of his arms, strapped tight in front of a professional huntsman, puzzling at the words spoken to him.
"Sorry kid, you suck."
He hadn't expected spectacular results, but he'd figured he had a decent chance at showing some potential. His dad had been a huntsman after all.
Jaune blinked again as if that would somehow help him decipher the meaning of the inconceivable. He must not have heard the man right.
"I'm in luck?" Jaune tried, but a piercing beeping noise drowned out his words. Qrow's lips moved beneath a scowl, no doubt cursing something colorfully foul, though Jaune couldn't hear a thing. Actually, He could barely move his head, as it was currently belted to the chair along with the rest of his limbs.
Tiny, stiff needles punctured his skin all over his upper chest and arms, each secured to wires that connected to an enormous metal monstrosity; the AEM, or, Aura Evaluation Machine. Atlas' greatest recent technological achievement, capable of assessing the potential of an unlocked Aura.
Jaune was still surprised at how easily he'd convinced a teacher to test him. He'd simply approached Qrow outside the gates, immediately recognizing him as a huntsman simply by the sheerness of the man's smug posture, and asked him courteously if he may please make time to test a promising future huntsman.
Qrow had looked at Jaune as if the gods themselves came down to Remnant and offered him an early ascension.
Whatever mad fancy struck Qrow to waste his precious time on a random civilian, Jaune was immensely grateful. Not that he had any intentions of becoming a huntsman. No, that was a dream of the naïve child he'd long since discarded. Nicholas Arc had made sure to relieve his children of such foolish notions, explaining to them in great detail the true gritty reality of a huntsman career, doing so in his life as well as in his death.
"Are you even listening to me?"
The beeping noise had disappeared at some point and it was fairly quiet now, aside from the constant whirring and the occasional jangle all machines normally generated.
Jaune blinked.
"Testing is over," Qrow enunciated slowly. "Take a deep breath and release slowly."
"Yes sir." Jaune followed Qrow's instructions as needles popped off his skin with red flashing lights traveling along the wires. When his head bindings came off, he turned to a tiny scroll bolted to the AEM. Red letters appeared on the screen, illegible, since the room was washed in a bright, white light of the type only ever experienced in hospitals.
"My results?" Jaune inquired, soon after adding the obligatory 'Sir.' It was a habit his dad had long ago instilled into him alongside a myriad of other manners of civil conduct. Most of which his sisters wouldn't bother with, but for some reason, with him, it stuck. Now more than ever, he felt compelled to make the effort.
Qrow sighed dramatically, throwing himself into an office chair, and swiveled to cross his legs atop a metal desk. Reaching into an inside pocket, he whipped out a silver flask and proceeded to take a long drink.
He leisurely wiped errant drops from his chin with the back of one hand.
Jaune stared blankly at him.
"OK, Ok." Qrow chuckled. "You're anxious." Another long drink. "Look, I won't sugarcoat this. I can see how much this means to you so I'm just going to say it as it is. You're not going to be a huntsman."
That was…disturbing.
The room suddenly felt very small. The walls appeared to be closing in on him in a swirl of greys and whites.
Qrow simply watched him, nursing the flask, a hint of sympathy in his eyes.
"And this…machine, told you that?" Jaune finally found his voice. It sounded hollow to his own ears.
"Yep."
Another pause.
"I don't suppose you'd be willing to test me again?" Jaune asked.
"Nah," Qrow let out through a sluggish yawn. "To tell you the truth, this AEM thingy gives me the creeps."
"Excuse me sir, but I insist you make the effort, a huntsman's future is at stake here."
To his surprise, and no small amount of annoyance, Qrow laughed.
"Sorry, sorry." The drunken man wiped a tear from his eyes, visibly trying to get a hold of himself. "The way you said it with a straight face-" Jaune wanted to punch him. "You're so polite. I should introduce you to my nieces, maybe it'll rub off on them."
"So you won't test me again, sir?" The last word came out with some difficulty.
"Kid," Qrow began, "I'll be the first to shout it from the top of every available bar table. Atlas has its many faults. The food is bland, the inns are too clean, and the women there are sensitive, touchy prissies…" Jaune got the feeling that Qrow was referring to a woman in particular. "But, when it comes to tech, they know their shit."
"But- "
"No buts," Qrow interrupted. "Believe me, I've tested enough bright-eyed brats to know what I'm talking about. As much as I hate to admit it, AEM is rarely wrong. Your Aura potency is low, control is low, likelihood for combat-oriented Semblance is very low. Only positive thing I can say about your profile is that it shows a decent possibility for a mid to high Aura pool."
"And?" Jaune forced out through a tight throat. Why was it so important to him? It was just an Aura profile, a predicted one, at that, if BallsDeepAndGrimm really knew what they were talking about. Jaune would never reach a huntsman's level of proficiency, but he could still become stronger, if not strong. Still…
"And what?" Qrow drummed his fingers against his knees, rotating his chair in a full circle. "I can bore you all day with the little details but it won't change the harsh reality."
Jaune kept staring at him.
"Ugh, you're almost as bad as Ruby," Qrow mumbled. He stood up lazily, yawning and stretching, then walked over to the AEM and fiddled inside a small drawer-like compartment. It jerked open with a lengthy hissing sound. Qrow handed him the paper inside.
It felt more like nylon than paper in Jaune's hands, and it was long; the bottom almost touching his knees. In dense sprawling writing, it was filled with numbers, percentages, and what appeared to be dotted ranges. It reminded him of blood results, but much more comprehensive and complicated than he'd ever gotten.
"Is this my Aura profile?" Jaune asked needlessly. He already knew what it was.
"Predicted Aura profile," Qrow corrected, "since yours is still locked. But yeah, as I said, Atlassians know their shit."
Like an ember caught in a light breeze, a tightness in his chest he hadn't noticed was suddenly lifted. Scanning his Aura profile, he felt the beginning of a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
But why?
Jaune frowned, the smile dying off young as was most often the case. If anything, he should have felt worse, holding this literal confirmation of his inadequacy.
And yet, his head was bent low over the paper, which was now grasped in a white-knuckled grip.
"You're not crying, are you?"
"This is…" Jaune breathed.
"It's OK kiddo, let it all out," Qrow offered magnanimously. "Just don't expect a hug. I only hug my nieces."
"This is alleviating," Jaune blurted, though his own word choice didn't make sense to him.
"Wait, what?" Qrow startled.
A pinging bell announced the end of class. The immediate, subsequent ruckus was what Jaune imagine a pack of Beowolves might sound like; slamming of doors, rushing of feet, and excited roaring. Shutters covering a window looking into the main hall shook violently as a red flash zipped past.
"The monsters are loose," Qrow grunted, checking his scroll, "and I'm late to class, great. Lily's going to be insufferable today."
"My sincere thanks." Jaune bowed deeply at the waist with his arms stiffened straight at his sides; an old-fashioned gesture not much used in modern times, but a convenient replacement for words nonetheless.
Qrow was…an interesting guy. Jaune could admit at least that, even if something about the man's attitude rubbed him the wrong way. A teacher at maybe the most prestigious combat prep school, and he'd spent almost two hours out of his busy day on a nobody. He was either completely insane or bored out of his mind.
"Don't mention it." Qrow laughed somewhat awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his head. "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."
Didn't it? Frankly, Jaune wasn't sure what to think anymore. Something about that Aura profile spoke to him, and he would have to discover what it was.
"Sir, it was quite helpful, I- "
"Oi, Yang," Qrow yelled into his scroll. There was a sound of a faint explosion on the other side and then a rumbling noise of someone answering. "I need you to escort a civilian out of the school. Keep him in one piece." Escort him? That was rather demeaning. "No, I can't ask Ruby, you know how she is." Another pause. "Fine, I'll spar you later. Just get to the testing chamber, tell Lily your uncle needs you for something." Jaune shifted uncomfortably. "What!? Put her on the scroll!" The voice on the other side turned much sharper. "Lilly- "Qrow tried. "No, I didn't blow you off. I was testing a civilian." Qrow pulled out his flask in one coarse motion. "It's not an excuse! He's…interesting, ok?" That was a generous way of putting it. "Then check his records for yourself later." Whoever this Lily was, she didn't sound convinced. "Yeah, fine. Just send Yang already." The sound on the other side cut off as Qrow slammed a finger down on his scroll. He took another drink, then turned to the AEM config screen, pressing buttons, oddly focused for some reason.
"Please, I wouldn't want to be a bother. I could find my own way out." Jaune just wanted to get home.
A pleasant female voice came through a speaker. "Attempt at editing a registered Aura profile detected. Please enter your admin override key."
"Hmm? trust me, it's a warzone out there. I'm too busy these days to scrape your remains off the walls." A few more presses and beeps, and Qrow turned off the config screen, smirking. "Gotta bolt. Wait for my niece."
"Wait!"
Qrow turned back with a raised eyebrow, leaning on the handle of the half-opened door. His hair was ruffled by a passing shockwave.
"Why do you fight?" Jaune asked quietly.
"Huh?"
"I'm aware of the personal nature of this question…but I'd be grateful to hear it from you."
Qrow stared at him…and kept staring. When Jaune was certain the man was simply going to ignore him, Qrow sighed.
"I haven't had nearly enough drinks to handle this loaded question." His hand strayed to his flask again, but he didn't grab it for once. "Talk about blowing off work," he mumbled.
"Please forget I asked- "
"Look, if you want me to say I am doing this to protect the innocent, save humanity or whatnot…" Qrow twisted his lips in a crooked grin. "….I won't, cause that's utter crap. You want the truth? I'm just better than others at cracking heads, simple as that. My Aura is like a fine maiden or er, wine. I can sense it, I can control it, I can redirect it. Makes me fast, strong. Bright. All that jazz. Just doing what comes naturally, ya know?"
"I guess…" Jaune mumbled.
"Also, the perks." Qrow fluttered his eyes dreamily, a lecherous expression spreading across his face. "Oh, my sweet child. You wouldn't believe what some of the ladies come up with- "
"Alright!" Jaune interjected quickly, "I understand. Thank you for sharing your, um, wisdom." He bowed again.
"Sure, sure. See you around, kid. And hey, just a bit of advice. Try to smile more, yeah? Granted, girls do like the strong, silent type, but you, er, how to put it? Don't fit the profile, ya know? Smile kid, don't be such a sour face." Qrow tipped his head with a smirk and rushed out the door.
Jaune spent barely half a thought on that last bit of unsolicited counsel before promptly deciding to pretend It'd never been offered.
He lingered around the room, wincing occasionally from blasts that seemed to shake the entire building, thinking about his dad, as was often the case when he let his thoughts wander. He played over their last conversation in his head as he'd done a thousand times.
Another bang, this one Jaune felt shaking through his bones. He jerked back instinctively, then frowned.
Cowering. It didn't feel right. A lot of things hadn't been feeling right recently, but on this at least he was certain. He didn't want to hide anymore. Somehow, he'd made a promise to himself to become stronger, and it was time he acknowledged it. He should be able to walk the halls of a combat prep school without a babysitter. Some of those students were ten years younger than him!
Jaune Arc squared his shoulders, raised his chin high, and pulled the door open, taking in the scenery before him.
This is…
….
Jaune Arc slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, wheezing.
Small steps.
/X/
If nothing else, a journey through the halls of Signal Academy proved to be a humbling experience; cowering behind the beautiful, tall blond girl who was hard at work clearing a path through utter chaos. When they left the building out into a large, open courtyard, Jaune was a quivering mess. Internally, of course. Externally, he'd done his best to maintain a confident appearance, though he wasn't sure who he was trying to impress.
"Things are usually much more exciting around here." Yang grinned. She arched her back, stretching her arms out behind her, and Jaune struggled to keep his eyes above her neck. "Don't want you to get the wrong idea."
"Excuse me, this is a calm day?" Jaune blanched. It was a miracle he hadn't suffered serious injuries.
"You bet. I didn't even get to use these bad boys." Yang presented her forearms, brandishing a pair of yellow gauntlets with a loving expression.
It was interesting; the sheer variety of complicated weaponry huntsmen and huntresses favored. Their effortless, smooth control of complicated pieces of dust-based machinery, mid-combat nonetheless, boggled his mind. Aura must have enhanced motor skills, as well as muscle memory, or he'd simply witnessed the culmination of thousands of hours of practice. Probably both.
They turned left into a narrow, gravel path, enclosed by a row of tall cypress trees on both sides. It was shaded and quiet, creating an almost tranquil atmosphere if one could ignore the errant, distant explosion.
Yang looked him over from head to toe with a curious expression. "It's nice here, isn't it? I always take the roundabout route."
"I don't mean to be rude, but I wouldn't have guessed it." From everything he'd seen of her and her uncle so far, she struck him as the type to take the most direct and hectic route. He just couldn't imagine her strolling through flowery gardens.
She smirked. "No one's ever taught you not to judge a book by its bombshell cover?"
"I apologize." Jaune bowed his head in what he hoped was a repentant manner. "I didn't mean to imply you're a shallow hothead." Yang narrowed her eyes. Oops. When in doubt, throw them a compliment. "Your elbows are pretty," he blurted the first thing that came to mind.
Yang laughed.
"Where did my uncle find you?" She said when she calmed down. "I didn't catch your name."
"Jaune Arc, at your service." He bowed. Formal manners to the rescue, as always.
"Yang Xiao Long." She curtsied, though he could easily tell it was a mock gesture. Good thing he'd decided against kissing her knuckles. "So, Jaune Arc," she said his name deliberately, as if trying to decide whether she liked it or not, "what brings you to Signal Academy? You must be pretty talented if uncle Qrow invited you personally for testing."
Qrow hadn't invited him at all, and as it'd turned out, he was maybe the opposite of talented, whatever the word for that was. Jaune opened his mouth to tell her just that, but no words came out. He closed it, then opened it again. Like a fish caught in a fisherman's net. At last, words did come out, though seemingly the product of a different mind.
"I'm planning to apply to Beacon for next year. I was hoping to get a good AEM reading for my resume."
Why did he care what she thought of him? Why lie?
"AEM reading?" Yang tilted her head quizzically. "Didn't you get tested in your prep school?"
"I've never been to one. You could say I'm a late bloomer," Jaune hedged.
"A late bloomer. Huh." She gave him another one of those passing, judging looks, and he had to force himself not to fidget with his pockets. "Who's been training you then?"
Jaune faltered, considering how to phrase a convincing lie, then simply settled on the truth.
"I'm self-trained."
"Oh?" She seemed genuinely surprised. "I don't think I've ever met a self-trained candidate. Sure you're not just a salty loser who couldn't even get into one of the prep schools?"
"I'm sure."
"Relax," Yang smirked, "Sheesh buddy, I'm just messing with you."
"Of course, Miss, I knew that."
"Miss?" She laughed. "I'm your age, blondie. Did you think I was a teacher or something?"
"No, it's just…" He felt his skin prickling. "Manners."
"Manners," she enunciated as if the word didn't make any sense in this context. "Where are you from?"
"Ansel," Jaune replied. "It's a small frontier settlement south of Vale city. You probably haven't heard of it."
"You must be fighting Grimm every other day out there, I'm jealous."
It couldn't be further from the truth. It was a common false belief that distant towns were in constant danger of being overrun, but in fact, there were several layers of defense surrounding even the poorest village. Not to mention, huntsmen and huntresses living there, highly motivated to protect their families from any harm.
"Yes, it's uh, rough, but we manage."
Yang whistled in appreciation. "Damn, I wish I could visit." She frowned in concentration for a few seconds. "Explains your level of control. I can't feel a thing from you!"
"Excuse me, are you referring to my Aura?"
"Yeah, your Aura" She drawled, rolling her eyes, "What else? Your cloaking is pretty neat. You practically feel like a normal wuss!"
Time to change the subject.
Or not. Maybe he could get something out of it. He was talking to Qrow's niece after all. She must be insanely strong.
"If you don't mind me asking, how did you unlock your Aura?" Jaune had done his fair share of reading on the subject, but he'd never gotten the chance to ask an actual huntress in training.
"My Aura?" Yang scratched her head in confusion. "Sheesh, that was so long ago I can hardly remember. Hmm, in my sleep? No wait, that was Ruby. I think I did it while taking a dump."
Jaune nearly stumbled. She'd unlocked her Aura while relieving herself!? Preposterous! He'd been meditating for months and he still couldn't feel a whiff of power!
"Why?" She puzzled.
"I, er…" He faked a cough, mind racing to think of some clever excuse, "…am writing an essay on Aura."
"For your resume, right?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Don't waste too many words on unlocking Aura," Yang advised. "It happens effortlessly for every huntress worth her salt."
"Certainly," he deadpanned.
"Ooh, I know!" She snapped her fingers excitedly. "You should write about an encounter with the Grimm. Preferably one where you barely survived. I bet they'll be so impressed you'll be accepted no questions asked!"
"Really?" That didn't sound right. Jaune could instantly imagine several guys from the forum arranging such an encounter, where they'd be miraculously saved by a well-placed anonymous tip.
"No. I mean, duh," Yang rolled her eyes. "It's not that easy to get into Beacon. Some of my friends already got their rejection letters, and they have been to a prep school."
'And you haven't,' went unsaid.
They'd left the gravel path to a well-manicured lawn; the western gate was just up ahead.
"Thank you for escorting me, Yang Xiao Long. I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Jaune pulled out his scroll and tapped on the screen to check the time. He had a Bullhead to catch.
"Just Yang, blondie. And no problem."
He was dead. He was a dead man.
"Are you… OK?" she asked. "You look sick."
67 new messages.
84 missed calls.
"Er, everything's groovy." He said, borrowing a phrase from one of his favorite comic book characters.
It was the end of his pathetic existence.
"Here, give me your scroll." Yang held out one hand expectantly.
"Why?"
"So, you don't want my number?" She cocked one eyebrow.
What!?
"No. I mean, no-YES. I do want your number."
"Glad to hear that…" Yang trailed off with a raised eyebrow. They stared at each other. "Can I have your scroll, pretty please?" Her hand was still hovering in the air, empty.
"Just, one moment, if you will." Jaune began to swipe off notifications with vengeance, but the damn lively notices kept coming. Where was the 'clear all' button!? He pressed a button, hoping for a blissfully blank screen, instead, the messages expanded. His eyes widened.
Hazel: Get your ass back here! Mom's fucking losing it.
Jade: I'm going to kill you and grow an apple tree out of your corpse.
Sapphire: Jaune? I called your 'friend'; he hasn't heard from you in months. Where are you?
Lavender: Jaune, we're worried. You need to call me.
Amber: Return my Big Bro, evil whore!
"It's fine if you don't want to- "
"NO!" Jaune did his best to swipe off the most embarrassing messages and forced himself to drop his scroll into her waiting hand.
Yang blinked, still staring at him. Then hesitantly tapped the screen.
She smiled.
"Well, well, well. You naughty dog."
"It's not like that…" Jaune groaned.
"There." She handed his scroll back, but not before taking a long look. "Call me if you have any more questions. I hope to see you in Beacon, Loverboy."
He hoped to see the next sunrise.