#rwby Jaques

[juanarc-thethird]

It's nothing, really.

Willow: *Likes a photo of Jaune on Schneenstagram*

Jaques: Huh? Why did you like his pic?

Willow: It's just a like. It does it mean I want to fuck him or anything.

Jaques: What?

Willow: Anyway, I need to go.

Jaques: Where are you going?

Willow: Drinking.

Jaques: Again?

Later that day...

Jaune: *Face fucking Willow* Fuck~💕 That's it Willow, take it you bitch.

Willow: *She smiles with her eyes as her makeup smears with sweat* 💕~

[fillmargarin]

Wr VS grimm zombies

[rwby-encrusted-blog]

Oscar: So you don't read sheet music?

Whitely: no, I just play by ear.

Ruby: Play Rondo Alla Turca

Whitely: *Plays Rondo Alla Turca*

Ruby: Great, now play it like it's the sixties and we're in advertising.

Whitely: ...

Whitely: *Slower, Jazzier version of Rondo Alla Turca plays, Cello sounding from somewhere*

Ruby: *nodding* Pretty good.

Oscar: Wow, you really can play anything.

Whitely: Anymore requests?

Ruby: Can you have my mom tell me she's proud of me?

Whitely: ... What?

Ruby: Well you can play anything, right?

Ruby: *lowering her hood* I wanna hear my mom tell me ... that she's proud of me.

Oscar: Jeez.

Whitely: Well, uuuuuhhh, I can do this ....

Jacques: I'm proud of you son.

Whitely: But if I drop it like this?

Summer: I'm proud of you Rosebud.

Ruby: *In tears, Voice cracking* ... You mean it Mama?

Oscar: We're getting you both therapy.

[ryuto12]

The siblings to a martyr.

Lil thing the RTX epilogue clip made me think of:

We really don't talk enough about how much the remaining Schnee's lost when Atlas fell.

Weiss dies.

Jaques dies.

Their home falls.

Their house is destroyed.

Everything they ever owned is gone.

Winter betrays everything she ever had for the greater good, and for what? For the nation she proudly served to be destroyed and her sister to die?

For Winter to be too slow to save her sister, despite how much Weiss believed in her ever since they were children? For Winter to look back and see the portal closed, Jaune Arc dying despite Weiss dying believing he would live?

Whitley finally starts connecting with his sister, for what? For her to just die? For the last hug they ever shared to be one he was reluctant to partake in? For him to play a large part in the plan that would get his sister killed?

Willow stops drinking, and for what? Her home is destroyed, her father's memory and life's work to disappear within moments? The death of her daughter?

Their legacy is so much larger now than just the Schnees known for the family business. Their riches are gone, but even more is expected of them now.

The stain on their family name is dead, but so is the greatest person to ever wear their family Emblem.

Whitley and Winter are the grandchildren of a hero, the children of a villain, and the siblings of a martyr. Their the Winter Maiden and the boy who tried to save Mantle.

Weiss Schnee died, sword in hand, alongside her friends she would call family.

And her own family was left to grieve, without her by their sides.

[didyoutrydynamite]

Jaques: Me?! Sexist?! Preposterous! I'll have you know I am a staunch feminist. I've never once hit my wife, even when I was drunk!!

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Between Shadows

Chapter 6: Corporate, Crime, and Colleagues

Being busy is a normal part of life most people just fall into. Be it because of schoolwork, actual work, chores, or a hobby, things just get backed up and need to be tackled in way too short of a deadline. And unfortunately for the two youngest high-ranking workaholics in the Atlas range, today was one of those days.

Whitley, up early as usual, had just gotten through his backlog of work that morning when Hannah knocked on his door.

Hannah: Young Master?

Whitley sighs, pockets his scroll and gets up from his desk to open the door for her. But when he sees her it’s clear something is very very wrong. Her expression is sour, and her face is slightly green from uneasiness, not something you want to see on your service staff so early in the day.

Whitley: What happened this time, Hannah?

Hannah: W-well, Master had a guest over last night.

Whitley: Yes, I’m aware. And?

Hannah: Well, it seems he’s made a…little messy in one of the guest rooms, and the cleaning crew is having trouble tidying it up.

Whitley: Are they running low on supplies or was there some property damage they can work around?

Hannah: N-no, it’s not that.

Whitley: Then what’s the problem?

Hannah: It’s…not easy to describe. Honestly, it would be easier just to show you. Please follow me.

Whitley sighs again before stepping out into the hallway and letting Hannah led him to the aforementioned guest room. As they’re approaching Whitley can already tell this was going to be unpleasant to deal with. The cleaning crew was standing outside the room dawned in protective smocks, industrial duty gloves, and masks. They all looked horrified but were completely clean as if they couldn’t even attempt to enter for fear of meeting some horrible fate. A foul snitch permeates through the hall, the only indicator of what’s got them so spooked. The moment Whitley gets a whiff of it his stomach drops, he knows that smell and immediately understands why everyone’s being so cautious. Still, he needs to confirm his hunch before calling in backup.

Whitley: Please God, let it be just a small pile on the bedsheets.

He prays, before opening the doors to the guest's room and peeking in. His eyes go wide in pure horror as he gets a glimpse of the mess inside. The smell hits him at full force causing him to double over and gag, stomach threatening to empty onto the floor. He pulls back slamming the doors shut before turning to Hannah.

Whitley: Where is the guest?

Hannah: In another room down the hall, asleep.

Whitley: Okay, make sure he gets rehydrated when he’s awake, and give him soft easily digestible food for the rest of his stay.

Hannah: Yes, sir!

Whitley: Thank you. Now I’m going to call the hazmat company to clean this up. When they finish take everything out of that room outside and burn it.

Hannah: Everything?

Whitley: Yes, not even the strongest industrial cleaner is going to get that level of snitch out.

Hannah winces and then nods her head in agreement, walking away to inform the other staff members of their new orders. Whitley calls up the cleaning specialist but just as he finishes the call, he gets a message from his father. A demand to summoning him to an in-house conference with some of his business associates. Or more accurately a meeting with a bunch of corks brushing aside the worries of middle management who know good and well that they’re toeing the line of legality on multiple fronts. And Whitley was going to play rear guard in case someone lost their temper, again.

Whitley: As always, there is no peace in this house.

He muses before walking back to his room to make preparations for the meeting.

Meanwhile, in Mantle, Penny is assisting in another emergency involving the robberies. The military detail for Hemlock Steel was making its way back with the shipment but two small explosions stopped them midway. The first detonated directly under the armored van’s engine causing it to blow up along with the front of the vehicle. This also caused a fire that quickly spread to the interior. The shipment truck stopped immediately after the blast, the soldiers inside leaped out to aid their comrades. Just as they were getting everyone out the second explosive went off. Though this one was just a flashbang, it still managed to temporally blind and deafen the soldiers in range. By the time most had regained their senses, the shipment truck was gone, and they had to call back up for transport back and to tend to the wound.

Which is where Penny came in.

It's hard to keep her anger in check as helps her fellow soldiers into medical vans, carrying a few who couldn’t stand and guiding others whose vision was still impaired by the second blast.

Penny: Okay, just take a few more steps.

She said softly, right hand set steady on the shoulder of a soldier and the other firmly grasped in his hand as they walked carefully on the icy terrain. He was a young man, a newer recruit barely nineteen years old, and already wore heavy prescription glasses. But they had shattered in the first blast, a reflexive blink being the only thing to save his eyes from direct damage. Until the second blast.

Penny: That’s it, now put your foot up onto the step.

She directs the man as he steps up and into the medic van, shaking while still grasping Penny’s hand tightly. He’s unsure in his steps but thankfully manages to get in safely where military EMTs get to look after him along with the other injured. Penny lingers for a moment to watch as they check his eyes, the meager reactions and dilation as they shine a light into them being clear indications of damage. Penny couldn’t help but be hit with a sharp twinge of pity for him. If it could be healed naturally it would take a while, leaving him somewhat blind for the duration. But if the damage was great enough to necessitate treatment via cybernetic or even complete ocular transplant then he would never be the same again. As one who’d had her whole body replaced aside from a few key organs, Penny knew just how foreign those new parts could feel in both good and bad ways. But she couldn’t dwell on it for long, there were still others in need of help before the cold or their injuries got to them.

Penny: Just focus on getting everyone home safe. Everything else is secondary.

She tells herself, pushing down the heavy emotions swirling around in her head as she returns to the wreckage to grab the next patient.

Back in Atlas, Whitley is sitting in the middle of a corporate battlefield. Accountants, lawyers, and descent-minded middle-upper management begging for clarification on discrepancies in budgets and complaints from both employees and customers while Jaques's team of well-bribed broader members deflected all wrongdoings.

The issue of missing money is the first to send everything into disarray, accountants terrified of possible tax issues demand to know why spending was so high. The most senior of them, Jeffery Hayward was especially vocal, reminding the board of the “cost-cutting measures” Jacques had put in place and how hard the finance and legal department had worked to make it happen without any of the four kingdom’s councils interfering.

Jeffery: We had protests around office buildings for months, White Fang members used it as an insight incident to justify the murder of multiple executives and a few board members! Men who were here when this company came to be and stood beside our founder lost, all for the sake of these policies! Policies that have not only damaged our company image with the masses but provoked multiple lawsuits from workers! Yet The Head of our massive enterprise has allowed spending to get this out of hand! Can someone please explain to me hoe this is remotely feasible?!

He shouted from across the long oak wood boardroom table, red-faced and clearly incensed. The Head himself however seemed unmoved and instituted of responding looks over to his son sitting in the chair to his left. He wasn't going to bother with this. Eyes cold with boredom, he stares Whitley down in a commanding way, giving the boy silent permission to speak. Catching his cue Whitley rises from his seat with papers in hand, ready to rebuke the claims. The forums were doctored to hide the truth, obviously and his selection was simple to act as a buffer between the two sides. Because who would dare question the young well-spoken future head of the company?

Whitley: The additional costs are from new expenses for necessary procedural and equipment overhauls in several departments due to changes brought on by changes in the closing of borders and loss of communication with a portion of our global facilities.

Jeffery’s anger calms for a moment as he processes the boy’s words. But it soon returned as more questions arose.

Jeffery: But this is simply too much of a discrepancy! An increase this high in over only a year is-

Whitley: Is necessary when the entire of the Atlas shipping fleet had to be switched from manned aircrafts to remote control aircrafts. There was also the cost of production of the new ships, the severance and retirement pay for the long-term pilots who were dismissed. One of whom’s family we are still forwarding a monthly salary and providing health insurance coverage due to the pilot going missing during his final delivery. Not to mention the added inflation on all of this due to Vale’s current economic and institutional restructuring.

He rebuffs elegantly, cutting off Jeffery and stopping the conversation in its tracks. Bringing up two tragedies, one of which directly relates to the company on a public level and the other on a practical level, gives the high-spirited pause and makes the bloat in cost seem more understandable. But this was just the beginning. Just like before Jeffery comes back with another fallacy in the situation and as the rest of the room looks on Whitley continues to stand his ground. It’s a war of attrition and the young man had more than a talking point and patience to win.

Unfortunately, Penny isn't so lucky. Just as the medics finish patching up the last of the injured the sound of loud stomping breaks through the icy winds. Sensing danger, Penny steps away aside and fires up her boots. She jets up into the air and looks in the direction where the sound is coming from, focusing in with her enhanced vision. What she finds is a horde of Ursai grimm coming their way! Most of the group is made of ursa minor but their numbers are high and the one ursa major among them was massive, towering over the other even from the back of the herd.

Penny: This is bad. At the rate they are traveling, we’ll only have five minutes before they reach us and less than fifty before they get to the city if they bypass us. Better cut them off now while we’re still out of sight.

Penny thought, activating her aura and focusing in on the ursa major before descending back down. She doesn't land immediately, instead, she hovers above the area steadily putting herself in a position where everyone can see and hear her.

Penny: Attention!!!

She shouts, and everyone stops in their tracks to look up at her. Giving of this air of authority Penny quickly briefs everyone on the situation.

Penny: A horde of Ursai is coming in from the east, twenty minor and one major!

The area irrupts into loud murmurs at the announcement, many of the injured looking frightened, and the able-bodied and uninjured quickly pick up their arms as Penny continues.

Penny: All the injured and incapacitated need to retreat, now. Everyone else, stay and prepare to engage. We’ll cut them off before they can reach the main road or city lines.

With no time to complain or even think the trooper replies with a simple “Yes, Ma’am!” before going to work. Within moments all the injured had packed into medical vans and were heading back to the city while the active soldiers ready themselves for a fight. As the horde comes into view, the soldiers form a firing line and take aim. Penny, still in the air, signals to those on the ground to hold.

Penny: I’m going to take down the major to break their formation, focusing on minors before they break away from the group.

The soldiers reply again with another “Yes, Ma’am,” and retrain their sights to the smaller Ursa minors. Just as they get into firing range Penny flies directly at the Ursa major. Discharging all her swords, Penny sends them flying at all four of the beast’s limbs before kicking it directly in its mask-shaped outer skull, hurling it back and onto its stomach. Confusion spreads through the horde as their leader falls to the ground, giving the soldiers a clear shot as they open fire. The ursa major doesn’t get a chance to get back up as its limbs lose all function from the deep cuts Penny slashed into the joints. It only gets a few seconds to flail about before Penny fires an energy blast at it, obliterating the large beast’s head in one blow. As the rest of its body crumbles away Penny refocuses onto the ursa minors. Almost half had already been mowed down by the firing line while a few had managed to break away. So, with a quickness like no other, Penny gives chase. Not a single one of these grimm were getting to the city on her watch, even if she had to fight them off by hand!

Busy in battle, Penny unknowingly misses her lunch call with Whitley. Not that he could answer, the meeting running so long that they had to have food brought in. The quality and quantity of which causing another agreement, one Whitley had to agree for while everyone else ate. By the end, the boy was exhausted and in much need of some reprieve but as always things don’t go his way. As his father’s seeing off his colleagues, promising to go out with the man and his associates for drinks that weekend, Olga approaches him. Her face is strewn as she tries to tell him something, but he just brushes her off. Sensing her disposition Whitley looks over at her and motions for her to wait at the side. She does just as the last man goes out the door and Jacques re-enters the manor.

Jacques: Gods, that was exhausting!

He signed, taking off his clip-on tie and tossing it to one of the maids who catches it on reflex. He stretches his arms as if he’s just had the most troublesome day, a low yawn escaping him as he does so.

Jacques: Someone fetch me my cinder box, I’ll be in my study. Don’t disturb me.

He commands, the staff present reply in unison with a respectful but monotone “Yes, Master.” Jacques huffs proudly at the display of obedience and leaves, the tension in the room deflating once he’s footsteps can no longer be heard. Now in the clear Olga rushes over to Whitley, the sternness in her eyes now mixed with a hint of anger.

Olga: Young Master! You need to come with me right now!

Whitley: What is it this time Olga?

He says in an aspirated tone, emotionally unwilling to take on any more tasks but unable to refuse. This attitude soon shifts into one of urgency as Olga clarifies her request.

Olga: Something has happened in the Mistress’s bedroom!

Whitley: What!

He exclaims, voice full of shock and worry at the prospect of something happening to his mother. Without any delay, Whitley and Olga head to Willow’s wing as quickly as possible. During the walk over Whitley’s mind races with possible scenarios that could have befallen his unfortunate and at times barely coherent mother. Thankfully none of them comes to pass as when they arrive Whitley is greeted by the sight of his mother in her bed asleep. She was dreaming peacefully while on the other side of the room stood, Yuko and Mary. Mary was standing there with her usual uninterested glaze while Yuko was holding down another maid in a tight grip. The young woman had her head down, her long dark blonde hair obscuring her face. Mary is the first to spot them and quietly strides up to them.

Mary: Evening Young Master.

Whitley: What’s going on Mary?

Mary: Mistress was experiencing more headaches then usual and decided to go to bed early tonight. After I put her down, I called for Olga and Yuko to help me tidy up “the usual mess.”

Her gaze falls to the floor, looking pointedly at the stray empty wine and bourbon bottles start on the floor. Whitley scowls at the sight and, not wanting to think about it, presses Mary to move on.

Whitley: Yes, and?

Mary: As we were cleaning that girl over there, I believe her name is Tabitha, came to the door with a basket of fresh laundry. She insisted on putting everything away herself, so I let her come in. But not long after I heard something fall from the closet and when I looked, I found her hiding this behind her back.

Mark holds up a silver brooch with a large red jewel at its center.

Whitley: That’s!

He takes the jewelry from her hand and holds it gingerly. He knew this brooch well for it once was pinned to the shirt of a man he deeply admired. The last person to make him feel secure and at peace before Penny. This was his beloved grandfather’s brooch; one he wore often when out of his armor and had been a treasure keepsake for his mother. One that never left her room since his death, store away in a jewelry box she kept at the back of her closet. And yet.

Whitley: How dare!

Whitley maintains a neutral face as he takes the jewelry piece and puts it back where it belongs. Pulling the jewelry box off the shelf, he stared at it for a moment. It was an old silver box shaped like a grand piano, a birthday gift for Willow after she’d gained an interest in the instrument all those years ago. It had no lock but why would it need one? No one was foolish enough to touch something so valuable and meaningful to the literal inherent of the estate. At least no one with sense.

Whitley: Yet some people are just so rotten even that doesn’t faze them.

He thought bitterly as he gently placed the brooch back with the other jewels and returned to the box to its hiding place. When he turns back around, there’s a burning anger from him that puts everyone but Mary on alert. Seeing any other Schnees this irritate was cause for concern but seeing the normally calm and courteous Whitley like this? That was almost mythical and completely unpredictable. Without a word, he walks toward the door, stopping at the door front then turning back to pointing out to the hallway. With his blazing gaze, he conveys a simple demand “Outside now,” which all four maids follow immediately, Yuko carrying Tabitha out by her arms as the attempted thief drags her feet. Whitley gently closes the door behind, eyes trained on his mother’s sleeping form to make sure the noise does wake her. On out in the hallway, Whitley marches up to Tabitha and Yuko.

Whitley: Hold her up.

He orders, Yuko complies and lifts the girl up onto her feet.

Whitley: Tabitha.

Addressing the theft, Whitley expected her to look up at him and try to explain herself. However, it seems that despite being shameless enough to steal a beloved keepsake from the person she’d called Mistress she somehow was too ashamed to look at the woman's child as he confronted her.

Whitley: Tabitha, look at me.

His voice was cold and menacing, his tone sending frightened shivers down the blonde’s spine. Scared of what could come to pass if she refused, Tabitha slowly raised her head though her gaze stayed on the ground. Annoyed by this Whitley tilts her head up by her chin using his index and middle fingers. He held her face so that her brown eyes have no choice but to stare into his deep blue which now bore terrifying hollowness as they stare back. It was so harsh Tabitha felt like she might cry. For a moment, the vast power difference between them became clear. Despite seeing him near daily most of the staff never fully recognized how much Whitley had grown in the last few years. His dignified demeanor and attitude made it hard to see him as anything more than the proper little young master. But right now, they could see he wasn’t the little boy he’d used to be but a young man with far more strength than most would ever realize.

Whitley: Collect your things from the maid’s quarters then turn in your resignation. You have one hour to leave this manor and never return.

Tabitha: But-

Whitley: And if you fail to do so I will have you arrested for theft and blacklisted across the kingdom before you can even post bail. Do you understand?

Tabitha nods in the affirmative erratically and Whitley finally lets her go. His gaze doesn’t leave her as Yuko lets her go, causing the blonde to fall to her knees before scrambling back up and running away.

Whitley: Yuko.

Yuko: Yes?

Whitley: Make sure she does as told and drag her out if she doesn’t follow through.

Yuko: Yes, Young Master.

Whitley: Olga, tell the head maid of Tabitha’s dismissal and why in detail. Don’t leave her any room to talk her way out of it.

Olga: Yes, Young Master.

With that, both maids leave to carry out their new orders. This left Mary and Whitley alone, the maid giving the boy a knowing look. It wasn’t often that she got to see the boy bare his fangs in person but when she did it only reminded her that she’d back the right one. The young heir could be just as cruel as he could be kind when needed, it’s one of the traits she’d first spotted in him. A testament to the type of leader he’d become when the time was right.

Whitley returns her look with a scoff before leaving, his mood utterly soured. He disliked acting harshly but had no mercy when ruthlessness was deserved. Still, the whole situation left a bad taste in his mouth as he wondered what could have happened if his mother had been awake to see such a scene.

Whitley: She’d would’ve been in hysterics if she’d seen that. Gods knows how she is about Grandfather’s things.

He muses as he strides back to his room, foreseeing another of work coming his way when arrives he takes the long routine back to prolong the inevitable. In his steps, his mind wanders to happier things, specifically the lovely redhead he’d been dying to see.

Down on Mantle’s streets, Penny is also taking the long way back as she finally heads home. Taking down the rest of the ursa minors took longer than expected as a pack of beowolves came in behind them. Now after getting back and getting all the reports done Penny’s workday is over and she could some much-needed rest!

Penny: Can’t wait to get home! I need something warm to eat, soft pajamas, and a nice bubble bath.

She mused, a tired yawn escaping her as she turned a corner. She’s walking past a retail store when she spots a familiar face up ahead. Decked out in her usual bright colors and roller skates in front of a burger shop was Neon Kat, holding a hefty bag on her tail while both her hands rested on her hips as she argued with a man on the street.

Neon: For the last time Mike, I am not interested!

She shouts, looking at the man, Mike, with obvious disgust. Mike doesn’t take this lying down and shouts back.

Mike: Bullshit! I know you want me!

Neon: Like Hell I do! You’re a piece of shit!

Mike: Ha! Says the slutty cat!

Neon: The fuck did just you call me?!

Mike: You heard me! Everyone knows you rotate through your dickbag teammates on the daily.

Neon: You son of bitch! Don’t you dare bring my team into this!

Their bickering attracts stares and whispers from passersby, but no one moves to intervene. Tired but not wanting her reckless friend to get in trouble, Penny goes to break them up. As she’s approaching Mike raises his hand to strike Neon, the cat faunas too caught up in yelling to notice. But as he brings it down, something grips on his wrist tight. It’s Penny’s hand, holding his wrist with strength that threatened to snap it in two.

Mike: What the-

Penny: Leave my friend alone.

Mike: Let go of me, you crazy bit-

Penny: Leave now before I make you leave.

She states eyes a glow as she grips him a little tighter. The pressure sends a wave of pain down his arm and Mike's face pales. She lets go when he pulls away, backing up into a wall before taking off in terror. Situation handle Penny turns Neon to check if she’s okay.

Penny: Are you okay Ne-

Neon: Penny Pop!

But it’s unnecessary as Neon quickly latches onto her in a bear hug.

Neon: What’s up girly! Whatcha doing around here?!

Penny: Walking home, I just clocked out for the night. What about you?

Neon: Gettin dinner for the gang.

She brings her tail around and shakes the bag of food in Penny’s face.

Neon: My period just started, and it gives me mad red meat and cheese cravings. And since it’s payday I thought I’d be nice treat my boys too!

Penny: That’s…more information than I really needed.

Neon: Whateves. Hey, you wanna come back to the barracks with me? We’re having a jam session to prep for a concert we got coming up.

Penny: Team FNKI’s performing again?

Neon: Yeah, Bossman Iron Pants says morale had been tanking all over town and asked us to dish out some of our special brand of funk to people’s spirits up!

Penny tilts her head, getting the jest of what she means but losing bits of it among the slang.

Penny: Bossman? Do you mean General Ironwood?

Neon: Duh! Who else would I mean?

She chuckles, promoting Penny to roll her eyes and lightly shove her off her shoulders.

Neon: So, you in or what?

Penny: Sorry, Neon but I have to get home soon. My dad’s making pasta for dinner, and I need to get there before it gets cold.

Neon: Aw, what! That’s so lame!

Penny: Maybe to you but it’s not to me. Good night Neon.

She waves Neon goodbye before continuing her trek home.

Neon: Hey wait!

Neon rolls in front of her, blocking Penny’s path.

Penny: What is it?

Neon: Just give a sec! I still owe you for scaring off that douchebag.

Penny: It’s fine, Neon, that’s my job.

Neon: Still! You’ve had me and my crew’s backs for a minute now and feels like I owe you something for all the trouble.

Penny: It’s really not a problem, you and the rest of team FNKI are my friends and comrades. I’ll always be there for you if you need me.

Neon: See, that’s what I’m talking about! You’re just too damn sweet, Penny.

She chirps while pinching Penny’s for her unbelievable cuteness. Penny lets her have her fun for a few seconds before brushing her hand away.

Penny: Quit it.

Neon: Sorry, couldn’t help it. All those freckles on your chunky cheeks just makes your face look so squishable!

Penny: Okay? If that’s all then I really should-

Neon: No wait! Just give me a second to think.

Neon takes a moment then comes up with a brilliant stupid idea. She turns around and kneels down in front of Penny, putting her hand behind her back with her palms facing up.

Neon: Jump on!

Penny: Excuse me?

Neon: Get on, I’m gonna blade you home!

Penny: Seriously?

Neon: Yeah! It’s the least I can do!

Penny: You do realize my skeletal structure is made of metal, right?

Neon: Yeah, I know. But I also know you don’t weigh half as much as you pretend you do. Now get on!

Penny: (sigh) You are truly infuriating Neon Kat.

Against her better judgment gets on her back. She wraps her arms around Neon’s shoulders and neck and puts her feet onto her hips. Once she’s securely on her, Neon asks Penny for directions to her house. She enters her usual route into Neon’s scroll, and they set off. It’s a surprisingly quaint ride as they roll the streets at a leisurely pace.

Neon: Having fun back there?

Penny: A little, I haven’t been on someone’s back like this in a while.

Neon: Really? Not a fan of piggybacks?

Penny: No, it’s more out of independence. After I started walking, I just preferred to move on my own. Before that, I was mostly sedentary so when I got the chance to move on my own I got overexcited and I didn't really rely on anyone for transportation.

Neon: Cool, walk your own path sister! But don’t forget that there’s always a helping hand there if you need it.

Penny: I know.

They continue rolling down the streets when Neon gets another bright idea.

Neon: Hey, wanna see something cool?

Penny: Sure.

Neon: Okay, hold on tight!

Penny: Wait, what are you going to-WHOA!

Penny shouts as Neon activates her semblance, propelling them forward at a high speed under a haze of rainbow light. Despite being used to high velocity from flying Penny had never moved like this on the ground. She can feel every bit of wind resistance, every crack and bump on the sidewalk as they glide through town. It’s a bit terrifying but also thrilling! Penny can’t help but smile as they zoom, Neon laughing aloud when she catches her grin. Before she knows it they’re right in front of her house, Neon taking a few spins around a light post to slow down before coming to a full stop.

Neon: Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our destination, please take all bags and luggage as you depart, and thank you for riding the Neon rails!

She quips while putting Penny down, the girl giggling as she gets her feet on the ground.

Penny: Thanks Neon! That was so much fun!

Neon: Any time girl! Hit me up if you’re ever looking to party, peace!

Penny: Bye Neon.

She waves her goodbye while Neon throws her a peace sigh before rolling away. Home at last, Penny gets out her keys and unlocks the front door. She walks in and is welcomed back by the scent of tomato sauce and garlic bread, her dad hard at work in the kitchen.

Penny: I’m home!

She announces, catching her dad’s attention as he’s pulling the garlic bread out of the oven.

Pietro: Welcome back, Sweetpea! You ready for dinner?

Penny: You know I am! I haven’t eaten since this morning!

Pietro: Well then put your bags down and set the table. I got a whole pot of spaghetti and extra big meatballs!

Penny: Okay!

She chirps, pulling off her backpack and sitting down to take off her boots. Her mood had lifted so much higher from where it was, she couldn’t help but kinda feel lucky.

Penny: Despite everything, today was very eventful and exciting. I got a lot done, protected many, and even had a little fun. Give them circumstances, this is as good as a day like this could get.

She thought while placing her left boot to the side. Before she starts on the other one Penny hears a notification come in on her scroll. She opens and once she reads the words on the screen, she can’t help but jump up in joy! However, her landing falls flat as the height difference between her barefoot and single boot leaves her off balance, making her fall to the floor. But that barely faxes her as her giddiness sends her into a giggling feat, eyes clouded over and absolutely lovestruck as she re-reads the text.

Whitley: [Are you free this weekend?]

[awsydawnarts]

In light of recent events

[superfrostydrawing]

Jacques: Alright children, it’s time for our traditional  mountain-snow-climbing trip of the holiday. Make sure to wear at least one red accesory to not lose sight of each other in this storm. gods know we look like we’re camouflaging in our natural habitat.

Winter: But mother is only wearing a small red brooch.

Jacques: Trust me, that bottle of wine is unmistakable from miles away. Now, are we ready to go? Hang on to each other, we don’t want to lose another child.

Whitley: Another child?!

Weiss: I used to have a little sister before you were born, consider yourself lucky.

Whitley: WHAT

Willow: I didn’t bring enough booze for this trip.

[robynsscarf]

Robyn: man, Jacques is a real bitch

Winter: but Robyn, he died

Robyn: dying did not make him any less of a bitch

[bafflement]

You know what I'd love to have seen?

Adam Taurus living long enough to take that Schnee company brand and use it to kill Jaques Schnee. Especially if the offer was made in exchange for him leaving Blake alive, possibly by a 'you missed, bitch' Ozpin.

Because it's karmic justice and the bastard would have bloody well deserved it.

[ceo-of-jennette-de-alger-obelia]

Does Whitley actually speak to anyone besides his family aside from that one convo with Ruby? No? Not even the other manor servants?

Well then how the FUCK would we know what kind of character he is?

[ieatfrogsfrequently]

Would anyone be interested in writing a short fic where someone goes to give Weiss a high five or something and she flinches in response

if anyone ends up doing it please link it here, thanks

[ryuto12]

Schnee Family Eyes.

So everyone's heard the good ol' "Winter's hair is black but she dyes it white, just look at her eyebrows." And I believe this wholeheartedly, though as of now it's just a very widespread headcanon.

Meanwhile here's something canon about the entire Schnee family.

Willow has light blue eyes.

Jaques has darker blue eyes.

Winter's and Weiss' eyes are light blue.

Whitley's are dark blue.

Willow may have the most inheritable trait, and even if Winter's hair does turn out to be naturally white, Jaques still managed to give one kid something from himself.

[bestworstcase]

It's going to be interesting to see how RWBY lands the messiness of Ruby and Yang's childhood and also the parents of the family.

Summer (aka "Evil Stepmother") I won't even try to guess how it lands. We just don't have enough information. But the getting across the information to the audience - Summer working with Salem out the "Evil" in there and the fact that Yang seemingly takes strongly from Summer in at least some aspects of her personality and her legitimately being an excellent mother to Yang gets across it's not that simple.

Her relationship with her daughters at the end of everything - very up in the air. But RWBY is a hopeful series, and acknowledgement of harm done, a true atonement in not doing it again... You can't change the past but a better tomorrow is possible. (See the Schnees as messy and scarred as that family is. And actually Yang and Ruby's conversation about Yang having messed up, resolving to do better in the future and the two moving on)

Raven- okay she's the one that I think I have the best read on. There's a lot of tension in Raven and her fear. Something that may have to be handled slightly carefully as separate from her issues with Oz as she was proven right about him lying and keeping secrets. And there's still the unfired untested "Only One Save" rule.

Same as Summer - acknowledgement of harm done + sincere work into making amends and not repeating the same behavior can equal new starts in relationships and the narrative has already did Yang tearing into Raven. A bit more details into what happened with Summer but...

Look at least with Yang the problem with Raven appears to be primarily that she's an emotional coward. It gets complicated with the other stuff - but the setup is there for her to finally beat that. Whether Yang wants a new start would be in the air but Raven taking the plunge, that I'm confident in.

The audience is all onboard for Raven having messed up - getting across when she hasn't probably is a tougher sell.

Taiyang - Okay, he's the character that I personally think needs an obvious clue by four to the audience that he messed up because man, the information we're getting hasn't been cutting it. He's not a monster like Jaques but that makes it more difficult to get across it seems. And the character has to be aware of the problem to l fix it (Or refuse to fix it. Or refuse to acknowledge the problem but I don't think Tai is set up got either of those two)

If Summer is the one that is uncertain as whether she done sorry for the actions she took, or not sorry she took them but sorry that they harmed her girls, while Raven is the one most solidly in "Yeah I fucked up" at this point, Tai is the one that i don't know if he's realized he has. And I'm honestly curious as to how RWBY as a show would have that hit.

Though I am not discounting Summer versus Taiyang with a very messy divorce fight. (Look I really like the idea of Summer as Yang's mother being reminded like that because while the characters draw Raven -> Yang and Summer -> Ruby comparisons the show has displayed a pointedly strong resemblance between Summer and Yang.)

mmm. i think the Dead Mom / Neglectful Father / Evil Stepmother paradigm is an interesting angle to consider the possible outcomes for raven / tai / summer from because all of these archetypes have loose archetypal endings; the heroine prevails through the dead mom’s aid, the evil stepmother is often punished, the neglectful father is…there. 

rwby is pointedly not a punitive narrative, and it’s also pointedly not a narrative where male and female characters are handled any differently in terms of complexity/development/seriousness. but: the “dead” mom is in vacuo now, lending her aid to the desperate last stand.

with summer there’s the additional complication of her being the evil stepmother in the rose xiao long family narrative and also the good stepmother in cinder’s narrative, wherein the madame functions as a dead mom whose cruelty haunts cinder rather than helping her and rhodes as a neglectful father. whether rwby’s archetypal stepmother is “evil” or “good” is therefore a matter of perspective; unlike the fairytale stepmother she isn’t abusive, only on the opposite side of a war from her own children, and one of the clever ways rwby subverts the archetype is that the stepmother chooses the child who is not her own. i.e., cinder. 

thus the immediate narrative challenge posed to summer—and tai as well, if i’m on the mark about what he’s been up to—is that cinder killed yang and ruby, or at least claims she couldn’t stop neopolitan from doing so. 

and that’s interesting because summer has been with salem for fourteen years now and had all that time to really think about what she’s doing and why and what it may cost her; her part in RLR2 is so anguished precisely because she is self-aware that she has left her daughters behind to face the storm she and salem intend to unleash. she has known, for a long time, that they might be killed by this war—salem does what she can to spare them, but things happen. 

so summer made a conscious decision to accept that risk, out of strong moral conviction that the divine plan for the world must be ended and salem must be set free. but tai?

say tai discovered the truth about summer shortly before or very soon after the fall of beacon. he’s spent the last twelve or thirteen years grieving for her, and his natural inclination based on what he knows about salem from ozpin will be to assume that summer is badly misguided—that salem has deceived or threatened or otherwise done something to her to force her to obey. thus the idea of ‘saving’ her and his reason for keeping his mouth shut: he doesn’t dare breathe a word to anyone lest salem find out that summer has been compromised / decide she is no longer useful and dispense with her.

of course to summer whatever liaisons she may be having with tai are both a comfort—her only other social interaction during this time are periodic and perfunctory seer calls with salem—and an opportunity to gather information. the reality is that salem will be either indifferent or pleased depending upon how useful tai proves as an unwitting informant. 

but prior to salem+cinder’s arrival at beacon it would be easy for tai to construct this alternative story wherein summer is really a victim of salem’s machinations who must be protected until she can be rescued; she is, after all, not doing anything much but holding the fort at beacon whilst searching for the vault, and we have seen that summer can slip on masks to hide her true self when she needs to. she’s lied to him before for the sake of doing what she felt was right; she can do it again.

the intuitive breaking point here is for salem and cinder to deliver the news that yang and ruby are dead, or fallen out of remnant depending on how much more detail salem may have coaxed out of cinder in the interim; for summer to sit in her private grief for a moment and then choose, as she has chosen every day for the last fourteen years, to press on; and for tai to see that. to be confronted in some undeniable way with the reality that summer is here because she believes down to her soul that salem is right.

(coughs in fractal ozlem. summer is the ozma who—literally—chose to take salem’s hand; tai, the salem who refused to leave the tower.)

like—does he stay, even then? if his daughters are already gone when the truth clobbers him upside the head, then it’s too late to make things right by changing course; is tai the kind of person with the backbone to walk away from the love for whom he rationalized abandoning his kids after circumstances force him to see clearly the choice he made, or does he hold onto her all the harder for having nothing else left to lose. 

and how does summer feel about that? if the foundation of who she is is her ironclad conviction, and tai’s is that he would sacrifice anything to stay with her, how does she truly see him? 

this is really the fundamental contrast between ozlem and tai/summer and why i’m certain that ozlem are on a path toward romantic reconciliation but skeptical that the same is true for tai and summer: ozlem broke apart because both of them are driven by profound moral conviction and came to blows over an intractable ideological disagreement about what the right thing to do is. they are, in every respect, equals. whereas the fundamental conflict between tai and summer—presuming that i’m on the mark as to why she joined salem—is that she has all the conviction and he has none. 

if he does stay even through the razing of vale then he can no longer act under the illusion that he isn’taligning himself with salem’s side of this war, which is an interesting thing to put him through that must surely lead to some serious soul-searching; and then the next obvious point of inflection is learning that team rwby returned from the ever after and are alive and well in vacuo. what then?

altogether it does set up a number of interesting paths forward for tai by playing him off of summer and utilizing that relationship to surface the good-vs-right / wrong-vs-evil quandary that the two sides of this war represent. summer herself is also sort of an ideal character to take him to task for neglecting their daughters, because her choice to leave them behind was predicated on an assumption that tai would take good care of them.

(i have to assume that a woman willing to set the world on fire for the sake of wrestling the keys to eschaton away from the divine chosen one is also a mother willing to kidnap her own children if she knew their father was letting the five-year-old “pick up the pieces.” although the thought of what yang and ruby would be like if summer and salem had raised them is both hysterical and terrifying.)

i do think the endgame as far as the rose-xiao long-branwen family is everyone at least on cordial terms; the inevitable peace negotiation offers ample opportunity for smaller interpersonal reconciliations and reevaluation of individual relationships. the brokenness of this family cannot be extricated from the war that tore it apart. 

but reconciliation with tai and summer in particular may require a deliberate step away from parent-child toward building new relationships as allies or friends or family in the more metaphorical sense. that’s true to an extent for raven as well simply because yang is an adult, but with raven being the one who showed up in vacuo i think it will be easier for her and yang to build a parent-adult child relationship from scratch. if yang wants that, which i think she probably does, behind the fear of abandonment. 

[dreamer213]

Broken Machines: Between The Shadows

Chapter 10: City Lights Are for the Weak of Heart.

This was not how Whitley had planned on spend his Saturday night, dressed in formal wear in the limo with his father as they drove toward a high-end restaurant. None of this was out of the ordinary, he’d long since gotten used to being dragged places by his father without notice. What was odd was the fact they weren’t going there just to meet a business colleague, but rather a possible donator to Jaques’s campaign requested to meet for dinner and insisted Whitley be brought along. At the moment he truly had no idea why he’d be called out specifically as the man, Augustine Hexton, wasn’t much of an acquaintance to him or Jaques at all. All he knew was the man came from a long line of investors, was like a passive drug user, and had a teenage daughter around Whitley’s age with an ex-wife. Which ex-wife he didn’t know but that wasn’t important now. What was important was him being dragged to this dinner in the first place!

Racking his head for recollection of any and all correspondence Jacques could have with Hexton to lead to this, Whitley draws a blank. There was literally no explanation for him to be here that would necessitate his presence at this dinner. Whitley had been assigned no task, given no material to hold onto, or even business cards to hand out. Whitley wouldn’t and couldn’t ask his father, who currently had his head buried in his scroll, as that could easily lead to an argument, and he didn't need any of that right now. So, he chooses to sit in silence for the rest of the drive, hoping the answer will come when they arrive.

When the limo finally comes to a stop it’s parked in front of the most prestigious gastronomy restaurant Templar. Ran and owned by celebrity chef Don Impeccabile, an obvious pen name, the establishment prided itself on being the premier spot for experimental cuisine and fine dining. Emphasis on the experimental as the main feature of the restaurant was the artistic fare that populates the menu. 10-course meals costing tens of thousands of lien, made from the finest ingredients with flavor combinations beyond your wildest dreams.

Whitley had never been to this particular establishment yet and didn’t have the time, opportunity, or interest to go to. Experimental cuisine was not something Whitley found appealing in any way despite being a fan of the arts. Not out of a lack of appreciation for the craft or the creativity put into making the dishes he just didn’t like the idea of food, a necessity and one of the bases on which humanity built their cultures, being an art form.

Whitley: To take something and twist it until it’s unrecognized for purely aesthetic reasons is ridiculous. Especially if that twist ruins its fundamental purpose.

He critiques inwardly, unamused the notion of eating food prepared with looks and thought processes in mind instead of nutrition and flavor.

As they pull up in front of the restaurant Whitley notes the very modern exterior. The building was a parallelogram in shape with a slanted roof and sleek line pillars framing the clouded glass plating that covered at least two-thirds of it. The building itself was very monochromatic, everything was black, white, or gray aside from the same touches of greenery. It looked so expressionless and clean even with the hum of patrons entering and exiting, Whitley could feel his stomach shrivel at the dullness of it all.

However, he doesn’t get much time to lament his situation as the rear door opens Jacques quickly gets out of the limousine without a word, leaving his son to follow behind him. Walking in is met with the usual pointed and faux-polite smiles and stares from people they recognized from different functions or recognized them. Whitley keeps a straight face but as they enter the building, he can feel a grimace coming on as the inside is just as sterile and uncomfortable as the outside. The interior is minimalistic and monochromatic, the wait staff are dressed and styled so uniformly it’s hard to tell them apart. Even the smells that should be wafting in from the kitchen are halted by heavy metal doors cutting off the kitchen from the rest of the restaurant.

The only eye-catching feature he can see so far is the hostess staying at the podium with a digital reservation book. She was a tall woman of clear mixed heritage, her facial features being very much of Mistral origin, but her skin is a very dark brown to the point of being almost black and her hair and eyes were at very soft shade of baby blue. These features were highlighted by her dress, a simple cocktail dress with oil painting patterns on it, the colors highlighted by what looked to be dust. The colors pulsing through the fabric like a soft form of lightning serging through the fabric. Dust infused clothing was an uncommon style mainly used in custom pieces for huntsmen with specific semblances or in high fashion for couture as even when fitted properly this style was unavoidably uncomfortable for most due to the mechanics behind it. A fact Whitley only knew because of a certain designer who’d done business with the SDC for that exact reason.

Giving it a long glance it’s clear that was one of newer her pieces.

Whitley: Even surrounded by seriality her work still shines. Well done, Madam Da La Beau.

He muses internally as Jacques approaches the hostess’ stand. She recognized him immediately and wasted no time typing in the confirmation. Once confirmed she led them to their table on the second floor, an area being better furnished in comparison to the first floor. There was a koi pond running through the floor with lights illuminating the walking path around it. The tables were made of colorful glass and crystal and the wait staff were dressed in couture outfits themed around a variety of terrain and environments.

Whitley: So, this is the type of place to separate little fish from dolphins and whales. Explains the surface-level presentation.

He thought. Yes, even the city in the sky had its own class divide. In fact, it was far more stringent than anywhere else in the world. That was no clearer than in certain places of business, where VIP areas were common enough that whole areas had policies on who could and couldn’t enter without the proper vetting. Some did so based on prestige others on wealth but no matter where you went the red tape held its place.

And though the atmosphere change does ease Whitley’s mood a bit it plummets right back down when he sees their table. Sectioned off by the curve of the koi pond wrapped around like a moat with a small wooden bridge connecting the small island, the table itself was made from a large tree trunk with crystal embedded and shaped into the flattened surface to mimic the appearance of a tropical island landscape map.

But that’s not what bothering him.

No, it was the fact that Augustine Hexton was sitting at the table next to his daughter Seraphina. Seraphina, who mind you is only 16, was outfitted in a backless gold dress with a deep v-line that barely came halfway up her thigh, matching high heels, matching platform gold heels, eye-catching jewelry, and extremely heavy makeup. He makes eye contact with her, and she blows him a flirty kiss. Taking a breath to calm himself and deter the urge to vomit in his mouth, Whitley looks to Jacques for clarification, but the man just gives him a knowing nod, silently incentivizing him to move forward.

Thus, the real reason for the dinner became clear, Jacques wanted Hexton to back him, Hexton wanted something for his daughter Seraphina, and Seraphina wanted Whitley. So, he’d been brought there for a date with the desperate girl while the adults talk business.

Whitley: Don’t tell me…This bastard bartered my evening for a freakin campaign donation, didn’t he!

He cursed inwardly, fuming in his head while painting a courteous smile on his face. They walk over the bridge to the table where Hexton greets them.

Hexton: There are our homered guests!

Jacques: Augustine! So good to see you! Hope we didn’t keep you waiting long.

Hexton: Not at all, though my sweet Seraph was getting a little antsy. She’s been waiting for this dinner all week!

Whitley: A week? He had this planned for a full week and still chose to blind-sighted me!

He thinks bitterly, smile still painted on his face as the two businessmen converse.

Jacques: Oh, I understand what you mean, Whitley’s been just as eager. He’s been practically shaking with excitement.

Hexton: Really? That’s wonderful! Someone as regal and refined as your son showing such interest in my little angel.

Whitley: What interest?! The only reason I’m even here is because this son of a bitch agreed to pimp me out!

He mused while forcing himself not to glare dangers at his father. At this point, Whitley wanted to scream as their blabber was doing nothing more than furthering the misunderstanding. And unfortunately, it succeeds. Seraphina looked delighted by the notion of Whitley wanting to see her as her enamored almost lusty gaze on him intensified. This sends a cold shiver down his spine and his stomach into an aggressive backflip. Hexton eagerly urges them to sit down, motioning Jacques to a seat next to his at the end of the table leaving Whitley to occupy the only other chair. Which was placed at the opposite end of his father’s and directly beside Seraphina.

Seraphina: Hey there.

She greets Whitley as he sits down, her voice pitched down as if trying to sound seductive.

Whitley: Good evening. Pleasure to see you again, Seraphina.

Seraphina: Oh no, the pleasure’s all mine.

She states, underscored by a flirty giggle. Whitley keeps up his façade of calmness despite the uncomfortable chill up his spine.

Seraphina: You know, I’ve always dreamed of that day I get to spend some time one one-on-one time with you.

Whitley: Really now? My apologies if this hadn’t lived up to your fantasies.

Seraphina: Oh, don’t say that sweetie. Night’s still young, and we’ve got all of dinner to really get to know each other.

She stated with a flirtatious grin, reaching her hand over to touch his. The contact almost makes Whitley flinch, but he holds it together. Had this been a year ago Whitley would have just found this whole situation mildly annoying but bearable. However, that was before he knew what being loved and loving someone wholeheartedly was really like or how comfortable and soothing a date could be. Truly had this happened before Penny came into his life Whitley would have had no problem sitting through this forced date with little more than a mild headache. But it wasn’t and alongside the nausea induced by Seraphina’s flirting, Whitley also had to sit with a knot of guilt in his stomach.

He shouldn’t be here, dressed well in a nice restaurant about to have dinner with a girl he hardly knew. If anything, the only reason he’d ever want to be here was if Penny wanted to try this experimental cuisine! It would have been a great excuse to get her dressed up to the nines and watch her react to the scenery change as they come upstairs.

Whitley: She’d probably get distracted by the koi before we can get to our table.

He thought while politely engaging with Seraphina in small talk, the idea of his adorable girlfriend acting in her usual quirky way gave him some peace of mind. While Seraphina probes him for personal information and tries to inch closer to him Whitley puts up a mental wall. Every time she makes him feel uncomfortable, he imagines what a date there with Penny would be like. He doesn’t let his thoughts wander enough to lose track of the conversation but it’s still at the back of his mind. Like a counterbalance keeping his sanity together so he doesn’t go mad at the thought of being on a date with someone other than his beloved.

This continues until a waiter dressed in an island biome-themed attire approaches the table with menus in hand. He bows before them, the feathers of his tropical bird-themed headdress riffing with his movements as he begins the opening of their performative meal.

Rodrick: Good evening, everyone my name is Rodrick, and I will be your guide on tonight’s culinary adventure.

He declares, voice calm and theatrical with all the forced enthusiasm of a theatre major trying to seem cultured to boost up the tip he needs to cover rent this month.

Rodrick: Tonight's voyage will be an eight-course track with stops along the coastal plane.

He motions towards the table with a swiping wave of his hand.

Rodrick: We’ll start our journey here-

He points to the beach on the map.

Rodrick: -with the bounty of the sea salad.

He exclaims before handing out the course menus and retreating to the kitchen to fetch their first course. Upon return, the table is presented with a small salad made of sea vegetation. A palm full of multi-colored seaweed, various types of algae, kelp, and hijiki arranged beautifully, well-seasoned, and topped with balsamic vinegar. However, the presentation is slightly deceiving as the first bite Whitley takes is overwhelmed by the taste one would most likely expect from a salad constructed of such ingredients.

Whitley: So salty!

Yes, the dish was overpowered by its sea salt flavor, the seasoning, and vinegar doing very little to defuse the taste as it was thoroughly woven into each vegetable. This becomes a theme of the meal as each course looks appealing while its flavor draws heavily from the most natural forms of its ingredients. The next course, soup cooked in the shell of a large crab, utilizes all the edible pieces of the creature but the mixed and matched texture of the muscles to innards paired with the light broth makes it a hard-to-swallow. The next is bread buns with a nut butter sauce, the sauce is grainy with many layers of flavors drowning out the soft flavor of the bread. After is the prawn pasta with red sauce, the sauce being fruit based bringing an uncomfortably sweet taste to the little morsels.

By the time they’re halfway through the dinner, Whitley is mentally exhausted and starving. He hadn’t had much to eat the day and the portion of this dinner had been so small and tasted so unappealing that he’d barely managed to finish his plate out of courtesy. Making matters worse, Seraphina was still flirting with him at every opportunity as their fathers ignored them to talk over the donation. She had tried to chat with him, playfully poke him, feed him bits off her plate, and at the moment was making an attempt at footsie.

Feeling her feet try and caress his leg was his breaking point. Whitley stands up, shaking off his unwanted dinner companion’s advances, and turns his and her father’s attention to him.

Whitley: Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.

He states, looking at his father for an approving glance of permission. Jacques sighs and rolls his eyes before motioning Whitley to go ahead. The young man wastes no time in leaving the table and striding off to find the lavatory. He doesn’t actually need to go but staying there any longer was going to drive him insane! Seraphina’d constant touching had made him disgusted and her trying to play footsie with him was the last straw!

Had he stayed seated he would have kicked her leg away and told her something about herself she most certainly didn’t want to hear. But he couldn’t. This dinner was important to his father and Whitley would have hell to pay if made a scene or ruined it in any way. So, he removed himself from the situation to get his head in order.

Whitley: Just take a few minutes to breathe then go back.

He tells himself as he finds the men’s bathroom. He opens the door to find a very clean and modern-looking bathroom. The stalls for the toilets are all their own small room, the sinks are well stocked with soaps and very clean, and the mirror above them spans across the entire back wall with lights around the border illuminating it. With the door up Whitley can see what’s behind him in the mirror and he catches sight of Seraphina approaching.

Whitley: Seriously!

He bemoans before rushing into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, pressing his back against it to keep it shut! This was bad, very very bad! That girl had already been a hassle to deal with in front of her father but now she was being so bold as to come after him like this! Whitley feels a pull on the handle but holds firm. Gods knows what Seraphina will do if she gets him alone but Whitley can only hold out for so long! The door would be opened again one way or another. Eventually, someone would either need to use the restroom or leave it, giving the ravenous girl an opening.

Whitley: There’s gotta be a way out of this! Think Whitley think!

He racks his brain for any scenario that might get him out of this unsaved as Seraphina continues to tug at the door handle. But the sound of a flushing toilet breaks his concentration.

Whitley: Crap!

He swears internally, time was running out fast and he probably had less than two minutes to figure a way out of this. But there is none, right now his only options were to face Seraphina and pray he could peacefully talk his way around her or tell her off then and there. The latter was very the most dangerous to him but Whitley couldn’t help but find it more desirable than Seraphina’s incessant flirting had driven him crazy. But the repercussions of that would be catastrophic for him.

Whitley: If I give her a piece of my mind Father will-

Whitley feels a stinging pain in both of his biceps, a burning flare of warning to what the choice will gain him. Still, he couldn't just let this girl have her way with him, if not for his own sake then for Penny’s! She’d be so upset if something were to happen to him and he couldn’t cause her that kind of grief.

Whitley: What the hell do I do?!

He bemoans, his anxiety growing with the sound of rushing water trickling down. The man who emerged from the stall had just finished washing his hands and was about to dry them giving Whitley only a few seconds to act.

Whitley: Damn it!

Knowing he’s out of time, Whitley releases his hold on the door and backs up. But instead of looking defeated, his eyes are full of cold fury. The air of elegant calmness was gone and an atmosphere of pure annoyance and disregard took its place.

Whitley: Fine, if it’s going to be like this then I’ll just let her down easy. And if she won’t take no for an answer, I’ll just have to make her.

He thought, heart fully determined. Despite the punishment Whitley would face after he could not bring himself to knowingly allow this girl to take advantage of him nor betray Penny in the process! He waits for the inevitable, ready to face this head-on! The man at the sink finished drying his hands and walks past him to leave Whitley, opening the door. Behind it, Whitley finds Seraphina not standing in wait and ready to pounce on him but chatting with Octavia and Esther! Shocked but very much relieved Whitley rushes back into the bathroom before anyone catches sight of him. Given a second wind, he takes a moment to clear his head and dust himself off, specifically anywhere Seraphina had touched him. Once he’s cleaned up, washing his hands for effect, Whitley exits the bathroom and Esther is the first to spot him. She stealthily leaves the conversation while Octavia keeps her distracted. She rushes over with a huff and pulls Whitley over to a corner to talk.

Esther: What the hell are you doing here?!

She whispers yells at him, breaking completely from her usual shy self with her rough tone.

Whitley: I’m here for dinner with my father-

Esther: No! I meant with her!

Whitley: Our fathers are colleagues and thought it be good if we got to know each other.

He states, calm and sensible as his usual persona returns. Esther doesn’t seem to calm down at all, instead, her face begins to glow red with frustration.

Esther: I can’t believe you're doing to Penny; I thought you two had something.

She whispered under her breath, voice teaming with anger and disappointment. This catches Whitley completely off guard and his mask slips for a moment.

Whitley: Excuse me?

He asks her as if lightly daring her to repeat the statement.

Esther: I mean, everyone knows what type of girl Seraphina is so how could-

Esther paused and her face goes from red to pale as she finally noticed the eerie glint in Whitley’s eyes, the bitterness, and anger in them burning deep as he peered into her soul. It’s too much for a wallflower like Esther and she adverts her gaze. Whitley sighs and proceeds to clarify the situation.

Whitley: Ms. Hellebore, or rather Esther, I believe you’ve misunderstood something. I am here because my father brought me here for dinner, Seraphina is here because her father brought her, and they decided to have this meal together at the same table. Nothing more.

Esther listens intently, she calms down as reads through the lines and realizes Whitley is mostly likely here for the same reason Esther herself went to most social events, because one or both parents made her.

Esther: …oh.

Whitley nods in confirmation and looks over his shoulder to make sure Seraphina is still distracted and continues.

Whitley: As for my relationship with Ms. Polendina that’s a private matter.

Esther: I see.

Esther keeps her gaze down, convinced but saddened that her show of courage was for nothing. Sensing her vulnerability, Whitley takes it as an opportunity to turn his night around and give Penny a special surprise.

Whitley: I know you have some strong attachments given what she’s done for you.

Esther nods in the affirmative.

Whitley: It must have been for you to lose touch with such a kind companion so soon after meeting her. But…

Esther: But?

Whitley smirks, this was too easy.

Whitley: But maybe it doesn’t have to be that. I mean you do have a third-party contact that easily reconnect you with her. That is if you’re willing to help the middleman.

Esther looks up to meet his gaze with surprised interest and is met with Whitley’s trademark business smile.

Esther: What do you want?

The two converse quickly and quietly before reconvening with Octavia and Seraphina. Esther whispers the details to Octavia as Seraphina resumes fawning over Whitley. By the time Whitley and Seraphina make it back to the table, they are accompanied by two guests much to the bewilderment of their fathers. The two explain that they had run into Whitley and Seraphina on their way to their table.

Esther: My parents double-booked their evening and didn’t want to cancel the reservation so let me have it to take a friend out.

Esther explained before doing as Whitley had instructed and brought up her father’s interest in politics.

Esther: I think he was a bit frazzled from looking into council candidates when he booked the reservation and forgot about their other appointment.

This sparks Jacques's interest, and Octavia quickly echoes a similar sentiment for her parents and naïvely asks if any of the candidates are nice. From there the rest of the evening is spent on the meal while Jacques spouts his self-serving propaganda, overtaking the conversation so much that Seraphina goes quiet. Her vapid brain can’t stand the non-stop talk of political matters and tunes it out to protect itself.

By night’s end, Jaques has secured another donation and possible appeals to four prospective donors, and Whitley makes it out of the night unscathed!

As Jacques bids Hexton goodbye while confirming his bank details for the transaction, Whitley wraps things up with Octavia and Esther.

Octavia: Okay, we did our part now you have to hold up your end of the bargain!

Esther: Yeah, we sat through that thing so do what you promised!

They press, determined to get their just reward. Whitley smiles at their convection, proud to see that his beloved had found such jewels of friends in this morally bankrupt city.

Whitley: Yes, yes, I know, and don't worry. I’ll pass along the message in the morning and if she agrees you’ll be heading back from her soon. Good night.

He waves them off as strides back to the family limousine to go home. The night hasn’t gone anything like Whitley thought it would nor had he handled it in a way he’d ever imagined to before. It was strange but emboldening, finding a way around his father’s antics and conspiring with people who had truly good intentions for a change. It was risky and outrageous to a degree, yet he couldn’t stop himself from trying.

The why of it was simple, he was just too in love to be swayed or browbeaten into giving in. A strength he never knew he had but used on instinct when that love was challenged. Sure, he was tired, hungry, and beyond annoyed but none of that truly mattered. He had one principle to hold onto tonight and he’d upheld it despite everything.

Maybe this love had driven him mad or just gave him a good reason to be braver than before. Regardless Whitley held his head up high as Jacques finally returned to his seat in the limousine and they set off for home.

Though the ride may be quiet Whitley’s mind is racing, pride at his successful scheming, formulating strategies on how to avoid overly eager admirers, even bits of music swimming around in the chaos. But the most prominent in this sea of thought was how much he’d have to say on tomorrow morning's call.

Whitley: I can’t wait to see the look on her face.

[heeeya]

so now that Whitley's gotten a kind of redemption since Weiss realized he was only a little shit because he was neglected by his family, I think it would be nice to see him in the story. Winter and Weiss have the same semblance, and yet they have different fighting styles. Winter is purely attack based, never using support glyphs or dust as far as I can remember, while Weiss is definitely offensive, but still makes use of support glyphs, especially gravity glyphs. And both also use their summoning in different ways. Winter summons to support her melee attacks, while Weiss, after she unlocked her summoning, used summons TO attack. Weiss seemingly learned to summon support her while she trained with Winter in Atlas. Back to Whitley, I believe that them having him unlock his semblance during the dust storm in Vacuo would be tacky, but I still think it would make him a useful addition to the RWBY and JNOR team (alongside Winter and Willow). So far, we haven't seen a man with the glyph semblance, but the only Schnee man we've seen other than Whitley is Jaque, who married into the family and logically wouldn't have the semblance. I believe that Whitley would be an almost pure-summoner, due to him having currently no weapons training. And of course until he kills some kind of grimm, he won't have anything TO summon, so he'll be forced to use dust to augment normal glyphs until he does. Of course, this would render him nearly defenseless if he ran out of dust or aura, but I think his whole up-close fighting style is to weasel his way out of being attacked as best he can, while chipping away at his opponent with like,, birds or smth like Winter did in her fight with Qrow