-x-
White
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"What would have happened if Snow White had never been beautiful in the first place?"
"You already know, it's the nightmare you're living each and every day."
-x-
IRA
There were tales and stories she devoured effortlessly at some point, strands of white shielding her face from the horror of her victims. It was the natural expression many had- mostly children- when they gazed awkwardly at her face.
Her face was the mixture of sadness and grief. There was a fire that burned her skin, the itchiness and agony painfully lingering on her pale face. Even after the fires had roared and roared, the ashes remained forever. Sickeningly, there were scars and bruises and burns- a terrifying combination of all.
Sometimes, the abandoned child hesitantly wondered what would happen if she were Alice. If there was a way to loosen her grip on reality and float away like the Cheshire cat, or dare she say, lose her head to the red queen, she would take the shot without second thoughts. Yet she was born to the wrong fairy tale- plunged into the opposite world of a once fair princess.
There was nothing but wrath left for her dark heart to conjure.
Breathe.
She couldn't breathe, the smoke from her flame threatening to silence her screeching lungs. It wouldn't die, no the flames could not extinguish her rage.
Her intentions were to rage and rage against the dying of the light, albeit the flames would be the last thing she'd succumb to.
Somehow, someway, the flames died. Her anger was turned into sorrow and despair, the crushing defeat of the world weighing on her thin shoulders.
Breathe.
She was not fire.
She became ice.
Then the ice shattered into a million tiny pieces, and the shell of a girl was left behind, helplessly attempting to gather the shards.
SUPERBIA
The moment the Schnee Dust Company declared bankruptcy, she knew her destiny had been sealed.
For one last time, Weiss stood in all her powerful glory. A face too young for makeup, her maids had attended to her hair instead, curling it until each strand bounced when she stepped forward. There was a tiara of twinkling diamonds in her hair, and one sneaky maid gently applied a coat of lipgloss for the sake of the girl's wishes.
She was a beauty queen, a ballgown hugging her slim body. It was white and blue, flowers embellishing the bottom of the fabric. There were gloves of the color of white, innocently tugging at her hands and refusing to let her hold any dirt. She had been the heiress once, and the ten-year-old was told to never let that die.
It was her birthday, and rather than a grand luxurious dance in her honor like past years, she had a quiet dinner with her family. Papa Schnee, Mama Schnee, Winter, and Whitley- along with the maids and butlers who whipped out dishes for each and every one of them. Chinese food was her favorite, so she was excited to taste exotic foods for her prized celebration.
Dinner began with no mentions of her birthday, rather it was oddly quiet. They ate in silence, sensing the presence of the oldest male in the family.
The moment they heart a loud blast and a commotion of screaming, their hearts froze.
When Weiss Schnee turned ten, her father had murdered himself with a shotgun. The weapon was a distance away from his body, crimson blossoming from his chest and ruining his elegant suit.
Life had gone to hell, yet her pride made her bite her tongue at the need of assistance with soothing her trauma.
The family lost their mansion, and while her mother hustled deals with other wealthy members over the price of their jewels and clothes, Weiss read to distract herself from her harsh reality. Winter, her oldest sister, was rather busy running, always running from her problems. Whitley had never changed, only this time, the boy had gone mute.
They lived in different places- shacks, hotels, the streets on bad days. Her mother would work day and night as a waitress the first and last time they actually settled. It was a shack, stripped from any luxurious marble floors and elegant chandeliers that made her head spin with dreams and hopes. It was ugly and remote, lacking anything that made them the Schnee's.
"Mother, why have you dyed your hair?"
One day, Mama Schnee brought boxes of drugstore dyes and cried and sobbed as she slowly began the process of washing away her white locks. Blond replaced it, though Weiss thought it was quite awkward and did not suit her well. Winter said it did, and Whitley only walked away.
"Schnee's are known for their white hair." Her mom stared sadly at her. "And I am no longer a Schnee."
Helplessly, the ex-heiress watched with worry as her mother left one night with a strange man who looked at her weird and never came back. Before her mother's worrying disappearance, Winter had left at some point. She claimed her mother was shipping her off to a public boarding school to decrease their spending needs.
She wasn't sure what that meant, but she would miss her older sister greatly.
Her twelveth birthday was spent in silence.
Whitley was nine and was worried about his toy trucks. They occupied his spare time, along with different books he picked from cleaning neighboring houses.
She didn't know how to run a home, much less take care of her own self. She learned over time, improvising and hopelessly praying to a God that never seemed to answer.
Her mother had been a good woman. Sure, she left and never returned but she had taken care of them the most she could! She worked at bars and diners, mostly never coming back till three in the morning before leaving at five. All her jewels had been sold and their fine clothing had been traded for other goods, even if they did not earn as much as they had hoped for.
People laughed and laughed at them. Civilians gawked as the family strolled through the streets, many hollering at how they had all fallen from grace. Her mother kept her chin up and so did Weiss.
They were merely fools, puppets of a man who committed suicide in order to escape their fate. Sometimes, she had ached for her father to have had a bigger heart and taken them with him.
She didn't have connections to Winter, either. She had no idea what the name of her so-called school was, and Weiss realized that perhaps it was best to just leave her alone. The elder had always been distant from her family.
As for Weiss, she wasn't sure how to feel. She worked endlessly as a maid and cleaned houses with Whitley. On weekends, they would head to Atlas' famous plaza and shine shoes. Money was scarce, but some folks were kind enough to treat them to food.
Because of her tired and frail body, she found no time to think of the boiled up anger and pent-up frustrations she bore. The weight of her survival and her brother wore her out and it was her sole focus.
Prideful, she was. A fool, maybe. But nonetheless, Weiss Schnee was too proud to admit she was drowning in debt and sorrows and needed help.
Then maybe if she had shown weakness, she wouldn't be in her current situation. Oh, over her Whitley's corpse she would dare do that.
It would happen. Madness had haunted her since the beginning, and now he was making himself know.
Pale hands placed the container of gasoline down, the poorly lit room soon to be engulfed in sparks of her anger. If she were to die, this would be how.
Whitley was snoring softly, the nine-year-old tugged on his bed and hugging a teddy bear Weiss had stolen from him the other day. The thought that he would probably sleep through this was the only thing that mattered to the ex-heiress.
In her hand was a match. And with a flicker and a move of her fingers, the match was lit and thrown into the room.
At that moment, the flames became known. They were hungry, taking and taking the little shack as they knew it. The fire started small, eventually taking the entire shack.
She was fine with it. She stood in the midst of her glory, and she was okay with it. Yet the moment she heard him for the first time in years, horror surfaced and she lunged into action.
"Weiss? What's happening?!"
She swooped forward, ignoring the agony of her body in glares. Grabbing her brother, she attempted to carry him out the shack but failed miserably. The smoke had become thick and dark and she knew how they would die.
The fire roared with passion. Wood from the shack rattled and burned, some falling. A piece fell with a whoosh and threatened to land on them, yet she held her hand upwards and sheltered Whitley with the other.
They would die, she knew.
There was no sound of impact from the wood. Instead, there was a marvelous design in the middle of the air, carrying the killer piece away from them.
"Is that a glyph?" Whitley asked, eyes wide in amazement. "Sister, you summoned that!"
Her fighter instincts took charge. She wouldn't die here, even if it killed her to move. No, she'd leave and rise from this hell and venture into a world free from her sin.
She doesn't know how she ran or recall the pain of her joints in action. She doesn't remember the seconds she decided it was right to attack for her life, not even when she tried or in her dreams that cradled her to sleep.
The fire gnawed at her skin, screeching and crying for her attention. They took her life away, causing her to succumb to the ashes of her.
Pridefully, she watched with her brother in tow as the fire gorged her home, a spark of bravery lighting inside her like nothing before.
AVARITIA
This was the wrong fairy tale, she was sure. This could not be her life, oh it could certainly not.
Yet here Weiss stood, a makeup brush in hand and a cheap bottle of foundation in another. It was the lightest shade she could find for her skin and that itself was worth a trophy.
Hesitantly, she placed more foundation on her face and blended it out. Next came concealer, and she took extra care to cover the ugly scars and burns from the deadly fire.
A year had done nothing to hide the ashes she wished to cleanse her body from. The damage was done and their world, once again, took another turn for the worst. Although, unlike before, there was a spark of courage in her that lit the way to a better life. Slowly but surely, she would get there holding Whitley's hand.
"Please give all your attention to one of our most talented singers, Stellar Dendrites!"
The diner was crowded- though her nerves and ongoing ball of anxiety had been pacified before she even stepped on the stage. She had learned to adjust to this life of a dazzling amateur singer, offering cheap entertainment to hungry clients.
Observing maids rush through the large shop carrying menus and plates, she adjusted her microphone and managed a smile. The crowd clapped, all aware of her as the true star of the diner. Sure, they were more people who often sang or even danced, but she was special.
She was the youngest of the showrunners and her voice, well, her voice was simply astounding.
"As always, remember our Tuesday special of buy one get one free. This only applies to our cheesecakes and cranberry pies for the night, along with our mystery plate of the night." Her smile made her face hurt. "Now, please enjoy the show."
The sound of piano keys playing startled her, the lights dimming and a spotlight focusing on solely her.
"Mirror, tell me something. Tell me, who's the loneliest of all?"
Her singing rang across the diner, bouncing off the walls and melting the hearts of her audience. Raising her chin and stretching out her arms, she drowned too and the song and the ecstatic change of rhythm. She envisioned her home, the past life she once cherished and the memories of a lonely childhood.
There was a man who looked at her strange. She paid no mind, however, ignoring his gaze as he lifted a beer to his lips.
"I'm the loneliest of all."
The song ended with a magnificent flourish of the piano, and then it was gone. She panted heavily, grinning as her audience cheered and whooped. They clapped eagerly, some even taking it to the heart to repeat her nickname.
"Stella! Stella!"
She curtsied, the white dress grabbed between her pale fingers. Looking up, she took note of a man who had risen and gestured at her, talking to a waitress.
Sparing a glance at the pianist, she nodded at her brother as he resumed playing his instrument. He had never learned to play the piano, but he acquired that skill when they arrived at the diner.
Leaving the stage gave her heart aflutter. She cracked her knuckles, making her way to the dressing rooms.
The waitress from before had stopped her, walking alongside the manager of the fine establishment.
"Stellar, someone here wants to talk to you."
A clean and well-dressed man lingered behind them, a stern expression on his face. His hands were hidden behind him. He was tall, almost intimidating.
She curtsied as custom, stating a quick, "Hello".
They were left in private and Weiss felt awkward. She gingerly picked at her hair, curls bouncing as her fingers pulled.
"I won't take much time, Weiss." Blue eyes shone with recognition. "I was a...friend with your father."
A chill went through her spine. Not once had her deceased guardian been brought up in a conversation with an outsider, much less in her little home. Her heart ached and throbbed, the memory of her parent swarming her with sadness.
"I understand, sir."
"And I am aware of...your mother's state."
The Schnee Whore- that was her name. For a frail girl like herself who lacked basic nutrition, she was shocked to find how much strength her punch had. The man who dared claim her mother as that had received a black eye as a warning, spitting and cursing at the young teenager.
"It is not a state, sir. She has left and that is final."
He nodded, gulping.
"As I had said, I am aware of you and your brother's housing. And I have searched far and wide, actually, under the inquiries of your sister."
Winter had been erased from her mind for the longest. She wondered what the woman was up to nowadays, although there was obviously no way to ask herself. It had been a faint dream to question and face her older sister.
"You have?" She had been stunned by the revelation. Winter probably hadn't even spared her a thought! Or had her sister actually been worried for their safety the entire time?
"Yes. I am surprised to have stumbled on this diner. There was much talk on your talents."
Smiling, she scratched her head.
"I am aware of the talk, sir. And I have been wondering of my sister, too."
"I'll make it quick. I'm General Ironwood, the headmaster of Atlas Academy. Your sister is attending currently, and I would like to offer you a safer home with better access to food."
The white-haired youth blinked. Was it for real? Was this a chance at redemption? Had her angel finally arrived in the form of General Ironwood? Were her and Whitley finally to be safe from the hardships of being street children?
"Sir, that is a kind offer but-"
"Weiss, I promise you access to the best schools and the best of the best." He interrupted. "There are no strings attached, I promised your father I would look after you and your siblings, after all."
Confliction arose in her troubled mind. All she had longed for was aid to her troubles, therapy to the ways she thought and medicine when she was sickly pale. This man was offering all that, even more, dare she say.
Her life had been terrible. Daily issues with bandits, even confrontations with gang members and the occasional accidents that nearly cost her her life. She dealt with older men who were gross and made her stomach hurt, and the attraction of a life of thieves and murderers.
Yet tempting as it was, she had never fallen. Her pride still took its nice grip on her, refusing to let go. And maybe that pride was her downfall, as she humbly accepted Ironwood's offer.
The man smiled and shook her hand, saying that he would arrive for her the next morning at her house.
News of them winning the lottery had made Whitley beyond thrilled. The beaming boy ate his vegetables with no remarks or sarcastic comments, finishing his meal and rushing to pack their few belongings. Their home of a wasted shack behind the diner would be emptied by tomorrow.
That night, dreams of gold and swimming in riches clouded her sleep. She was in a wonderful world, a crown bestowed upon her by a tinman. He nodded in approval and showed her off to the kingdom, declaring the wicked witch dead. She was crowned the true witch, and she fell into a trap of hunger for power.
Power. Power. Power.
Then a girl, years younger than her, appeared. She was dressed in red, a smile as wide as her eyes dancing in her child-like face.
"Oh, I can give you all the wealth in the world, your Highness."
And she took the red girl's hand, silver eyes glowing faintly as her world became nothing.
Then the realization that she had danced with the devil in the wrong fairytale once more hit her in an instant.
GULA
Red pills rested on the thin woman's gloved palm, her exaggerated red lips woven into a sinister smile.
Words could not fathom how enraged Weiss had become. The sole idea of these wealthy fools eating and eating food like a poisonous drug, vomiting their guts out in the end with the help of stupid pills. For what? So they could eat more? To devour more and then waste time complaining over their small wastes not becoming smaller?
"Ah, Weiss." Ironwood had dressed more appropriately for Atlas Academy's ball, a dance for the success of their students' graduation. It was quite formal and Weiss only realized now how much she longed for these events.
She spun, the blue fabric creating a whirl-like effect. "Yes, Mister Ironwood?"
Rather than his coat and usual uniform (as she called it, anyway) he had been bribed into wearing a suit and tie. It looked silly on him, though she knew he made it work. As a result of this year's graduation rate, he was forced to wear such outfit. He had made a bet to the Schnee clan as a joke, after all.
"It's time for you to sing if you're ready to go."
Maybe it was the fact that Ironwood had guided them as his own children or that her sister was also graduating, but they were allowed to attend. Weiss, of course, had other duties.
She nodded and walked towards the stage, where another woman happily handed her the microphone. Singing had become part of her and evolved into all she loved. It was as if they were her wings to freedom and she right now was soaring through the sky.
The sky was hers, no matter what, it would stay hers.
"Mirror, can you hear me? Do I reach you?"
Loneliness had been an emotion she hadn't felt in years. Her life was happy and bright, and she danced with sunshine most of the days. Ironwood filled a void in her and she felt complete. They were a family- she had a family. The general was the father she never had and he was the comfort that she always longed for. She was getting better, at a very slow pace, but getting better. She was reaching the light and the light seemed to be rushing into her arms, too.
The song had only been written during song therapy sessions- and yes, that was a thing. Ironwood had promised help and he had given only the best.
"There's a part of me that's desperate for changes, tired of being a pawn."
Unbelievably, she was able to catch up in school. Back before the fall of her family's company, she had been homeschooled with a skilled tutor. Now, she attended a private school and had excellent grades. Weiss was even top of her class!
Ironwood was proud of her, he always told her he was.
The rest of the song came to her with ease. She had practiced day and night, in front of Winter and Whitley for the sake of receiving criticism.
The sister she hadn't seen in years welcomed her with kindness, a sad look registered on her as she gently caressed the marks on the white-haired girl's face.
General Ironwood had promised her he would aid in the process of erasing the scars. Laser and plastic surgery; it made her stomach churn at the mere thought.
She had shaken her head at that, deciding to wear the marks of her past proudly. With therapy, she had grown past the point of hiding her face in layers of makeup.
"I will not surrender."
The last line came powerfully, her voice booming in the ballroom. The graduating class and guests were quick to applaud, cheering as she curtsied.
Her life was hers, no one else's. And compared to Winter's, she felt greatness in her path.
It had been disappointing to find Winter settling her life as a huntress. Her father had told them they were destined for greatness, but when she reminded her sister of this, she had only scoffed and said, "Father is dead."
For Weiss, with tutoring and classes and therapy, she found a new promise to herself. Ambition and greed and wrath made her take an oath- she, someday, would take the Schnee Dust Company back to its formal glory.
Why?
Because she was Weiss Schnee and as far as she knew, she could. And so, she would.
Her destiny had been sealed, anyway.
"Winter!" The girl chirpily headed to the refreshment area, where Winter stood holding a cup of punch.
She turned, grinning at Weiss.
"You did great!"
Winter was different. It was like the sun herself had crowned the Schnee and taken her under her wing to teach her how to sputter out pure sunrays. She was well, not at all depressed and very much the opposite of a solitary winter night.
Her hair was loose, left straight and decorated with a single blue flower above her right ear. A white lace dress hung to her body, draping over the floor. She looked amazing, even glowing.
"Thank you." She beamed. Her hands went to the table and picked up a velvet chocolate cupcake. It was carefully ornamented with pearl-like candy and enveloped in red frosting. All the treats would definitely be tasty, given that only Atlas' finest chefs and dessert makers took joy in collaborating for this event.
"Don't eat too much dessert," Winter started plainly. "The dinner will start in a bit." She ruffled Weiss' hair affectionately and waved, wandering off to a group of people.
Dinner was, too say the least, an extravagant sight. Plated dressed with (what she prayed was) fake silver that shone and shimmered, showing her reflecting and a tangle of burns. She didn't mind the grotesque sight, smiling as the courses were carried to the long table.
The banquet was to be served in six courses. Weiss had had three-course meals, but not six!
Saliva practically dripping from her mouth, she eyed the plate in front of her with great hunger. Garlic bread laid in front and as the servants brought more food out, she took one and bit into flavor itself.
Soup was brought as the second course, and contrary to the teen who had offered pills, she ate in small quantities. The Cream of Barley melted in her mouth with great delight. She wished to try more, but she knew the next platters would be equal or even better.
The courses were even better with each take.
She felt hunger and hunger as she devoured the food; fish gently grilled, vegetables roasted and covered in blended cheese, cumin lamb. She reached for another bread as she bit off a piece of lamb.
Dessert was breathtaking. As the last part, there was a water fountain of chocolate and strawberries and fruits perfectly aligned. Cakes spiraled from the table, all of different sizes and colors. There was even ice cream of many flavors! It was all a wonderful sight!
From the corner of her eye, she watched as the same woman stood up. She grabbed a glass of wine and passed pills to another teenager, who took them without a second thought. They left, perhaps to the restroom.
To throw it all up.
How disgusting.
This was enough food to feed the kids on the streets. The thought of such left a bitter taste in her mouth and she put down the second serving of frosted chocolate cake.
She and Whitley had never eaten this much back in those dreadful three years of abandonment. No, this was what they could barely muster in a year.
Yet here many were, forcing pills down their throat and food up their mouths.
How could someone sign their lives to protect these people? She watched as Ironwood declared a cheer for the huntresses and huntsmen of tomorrow. They held their glasses up and for once, Weiss felt disgusted.
By then the teenager with the deadly pills had returned. She looked anxious, smiling nervously and holding her drink up.
Weiss flaunted a smile of knowing and raised her own glass.
She wasn't hungry anymore- she would not fall into the sin of gluttony, but to the one for the hunger of vengeance and ambition.
As the dance carried on, ideas and images of the story where Snow White took a bite of the deadly apple came to mind. She knew what the metaphor was for in her own life and she would not allow that to happen.
But was she Snow White?
No, Snow White had fair skin. She did not.
But what would have happened if Snow White had never been beautiful in the first place?
"You already know, it's the nightmare you endured at some point."
LUXURIA
Lust was an emotion she had never yielded to, nor did she have plans to.
Teenage hormones were a thing- she was aware. She had the talk at the age of ten, the functions of life were no longer an awkward issue for her. Of course, explaining to Whitley had been a pain, though the deed was sealed and to never be talked about.
Romance and sexual tendencies were something that was not attributed to her. She was aware that Ironwood had conditioned her to focus on studies and all that, not on worthless things. She had a debt with him and she would repay it with hard work and accomplishments.
"Mister Ironwood!" Weiss was happy, as most days. A simper was never neglected from her face, she rushed forward and sped through the long corridors, stunning butlers in the process.
"Mister Ironwood!"
James Ironwood was ready to leave. He stopped before reaching for the door to the mansion, two guards following behind in tow.
"Weiss?" He opened his mouth to speak but was stopped when she raised a finger to cut in.
"Fencing. I want to fence."
Silence fell between the two. James raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes. He seemed puzzled, almost as if Weiss was simply joking or pretending. When she stood tall and proud, he only gave a nod.
"Fencing?"
She faltered.
"Anything, really. I want to fight." She paused. "Like Winter."
Ironwood pursed his lips, bobbing his head again and turning to leave.
"Wise choice, if I say so myself."
Ever since then, the thirteen-year-old learned that maybe she underestimated Winter.
The truth was, she wasn't sure why she wanted to fight. All she wanted was to restart her family's business, yet watching Winter fight had initiated something inside her.
Combat was an act of elegance and grace. It was a ritual, a dance. Watching your opponent as you spun and whirled to the rhythm was an interesting idea, and she wanted to have a part in it.
Life had been a breeze past that fateful day. And not a breeze as in easy, it was the breeze that rocked and shocked a whole house on a thunderous day.
Aura and semblance were new concepts to her. Dust was a bitter subject, but mastering all three was no difficult task at all. In fact, Winter helped her learn to summon her glyphs. Sure, the last part was irritable and hard, but there was a golden rule that must be followed- Schnee's could no longer be associated with 'quitting'.
Resistance was in her blood. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she carried her sword, a mischievous smile on her face. She charged forward, lunging at Winter who narrowingly moved out the way just in time.
"Weiss. Winter."
The voice of the general made them both stop. Heaving, the sisters bowed out of respect for the man. Ironwood sauntered into the makeshift arena, hands behind his back and a grin on his face. "I see you've improved greatly, Weiss. These past months have been a bit hard, haven't they?"
She nodded. "They have, sir."
"Then I'm pleased to inform both of you that, in honor of your fourteenth birthday, I have decided to help construct your own weapon. Of course, this is to fulfill the requirement of being transferred to a combat academy."
Weiss gaped, blue eyes wide with excitement. The sword dropped from her hands and clattered against the stone floors. Without much thought, she ran to Ironwood and wrapped him in a hug, a squeal of happiness slipping past her lips.
Both Winter and Ironwood were amazed at this, though the latter only patted her back and waited for the girl's emotions to cease. Once she stopped, she took a step back and laughed nervously.
"Sorry, I was kinda...ecstatic, I guess." She shook her head, white hair remaining in place. "Thank you so much, Mister Ironwood! You've done so much for my siblings, there is no way to repay your kindness!"
The man towered over her, though the intimidation she once felt was gone. It was past the point of existing, just a silly thought she naively had at some distant point. The general had a heart made of gold, even if it seemed he was quite brutal and a bit too patriotic. Of course, Weiss was sure she was greeted by the other side of James Ironwood.
"I think you will fit in Atlas Academy. On one condition, if I may add."
She could nearly faint from all the surges of excitement. Atlas Academy? Yes! Rather than making a fool out of herself, she decided to go for a nod and inquire the condition.
"That you'll keep being happy, Weiss." He glanced at Winter. "Continue training."
With that, he left.
The next day, she awoke to her siblings singing happy birthday. Winter was up, gloved hands holding a heavily decorated cake. White candles sat on top, flickering wildly. Whitley was perched on her bed, smiling widely as he sang along with his eldest sister.
Pushing the sheets off her bed, she pulled both siblings into a bear hug. "Ah, thank you so much, guys!"
She jumped out the bunk beds. Looking back, she sighed contently. Her father would have never let her have bunk beds with any of her siblings, ignoring any age gap. For the most part, while her older sister sought privacy, she would have longed for a chance to share a bunk bed with her younger brother. Now that she was fourteen and he would turn twelve in two months, she wondered if Ironwood would ask them to pursue different rooms.
Her heart hoped not- he kept the nightmares away, after all.
The trio exchanged laughs as Whitley pulled out gifts. One had a massive white bow. Careful fingers undid the bow, observing eyes making sure not a piece of paper was torn off without honor. Skillfully, the birthday girl took off the pink paper and gasped.
It was a book, massive and brown and old. Although dusty, she could read the words "Fairytales and More" on the cover. She gently went through the pages, stopping at one of the Seasons and Four Maidens.
"I always thought the Maidens were an exaggerated tale." She mused aloud. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Winter paled before scoffing and requesting her to read something a bit more realistic. As asked for, she turned to the tale of Rose Red and Snow White.
Weiss took the second gift, which was in a bag. She opened it and inside was a shining brooch, a snowflake made out of pearls. The brooch was pretty and she noted it had her initials in the middle, this time made by black diamonds. Stunned by its beauty, she turned to her sister and asked for its price.
"Please. This is a family heirloom, mother saved it for you to have eventually."
She stared at the jewel. It was bright, sure, and it was worth a pretty penny. In those despair-inducing days, why had Willow Schnee saved a valuable piece of jewelry for her daughter? The woman had walked out the picture, so why was it worth conserving anything?
The question lingered in her mind, ignoring her attempts to push it away. Her mood hadn't been ruined for the day, even if she acted a bit more conscious of the brooch's presence. When Ironwood cited for her to come for the development of her weapon, she timidly bit her lip and slipped the gift in her pants' pocket.
"Weiss, I believe a sword type of weapon would suit you."
Indeed it would. She had practiced and trained with swords all day long. His weapon, on the other hand, was a trusty bulky revolver. He was more into modern times, as he called it.
Nodding, she grabbed a sheet of blueprint paper and twirled her pencil. They had sketched several prototypes of knives and she had even handled already made weapons. Guns weren't her thing, she would soon learn, and the finely sharpened armaments didn't quite feel right.
"Sometimes, inspiration can come from old weaponry." The workshop smelled of wood and fire- a scent she fell in love with.
"Perhaps." She looked through old photographs for guidance, passing photo past photo till she reached one.
"I'd like to try this."
Frowning, he took the picture in his hands. Pacing across the room, he looked at both the image and the frail girl sitting on the desk's chair.
"A whip?"
She smirked. "A dust infused whip."
A bullwhip was probably too simple for Ironwood. For her, it was perfect. Weapons were an essential part of the carrier's soul, right? And her soul was...humble. Kind. Graceful. Bright. Yet dangerous, cunning, and intelligent.
"Oh, and its name is Stellar Dendrites." Weiss took the picture in her hand and smiled knowingly. "Yeah, I like that."
The rest of their time together was spent sketching whips. Weiss took a great time explaining her ideas to her guardian, who listened intently. She spoke passionately, pointing at different points of the weapon where dust could possibly be infused. Ironwood took pleasure in boasting over the quality of dust they could use, even referring to a student who had long graduated Atlas Academy. His signature weapon had been a whip named Scorpion Tail.
At the end of the day, one final design was decided upon. The duo walked out the workshop, Weiss clutching the blueprint. She talked to him about Atlas Academy and what she hoped she could do there someday.
"With time, Weiss. With time."
He left her to her room to get ready for dinner. Dusting her pants off, she ran inside to greet Whitley.
Currently, Whitley was on the top bunk bed. He was already dressed in an elegant blue suit, eyes narrowed as he read. He held the book up, getting up from his position and laying on his stomach.
"Whitley!" Climbing up the wooden ladder, she jumped into his bed and rolled out the blueprint. "Look!"
"Woah. Why a whip?" The book shut tightly with a sharp thud. Craning his neck for a better view, blue eyes carefully inspected the masterpiece.
"Think about it! It'll be so cool to fight and just, I guess, whip that out!"
"Leave." He deadpanned.
"Whitley, it's my birthday!"
"Leave." Repeating his message, he playfully pushed his older sister away. "Just leave."
Scoffing, she rolled her eyes and started heading down the ladder, blueprint in hand. Before she could jump to the floor, Whitley reached out a hand and shouted, "Wait!"
"Oh, so now I don't leave?"
"Weiss, I wanna know some."
Hopping to the wooden floor, she raised an eyebrow. He followed afterward, only this time he simply jumped to the ground without the aid of the ladder. Teasingly, he landed successfully with a coy grin.
"Don't brag."
"Please, my dearest sister, I just wanna know some."
The oldest of the two nodded. "And that is?"
"You won't leave. I mean...Promise me you won't." The words tumbled out hastily.
"Whitley..." Her voice softened, her big sister instincts kicking in naturally. "I-"
"And I know you're going to Atlas Academy. Winter told me, everything had been arranged since day one. But...I don't want you to leave like mom did."
Weiss grimaced. Winter could talk about mother whenever she wanted, yet Whitley could not stomach it. He didn't hate his mom, he just feared the abandonment that she had stirred inside him. Back when they had a mansion and they walked like the rightful Schnee's they were, rumors sprung from butlers and servants that Willow Schnee had an obvious dislike towards her son.
"I hear that when he was born, she refused to hold him 'till the fourth day!" A maid cried once. "Ah, they say the newborn reminded her of Mr. Schnee, so I could see why she would do such!"
She always figured it was stupidity. Please, he had been only a baby! Most babies looked like raisins!
Gingerly, she shook her head and gently squeezed his hand.
"Hey, I'm not going anywhere."
"You know..." The white-haired boy bit his bottom lip. "I feel as if we paid for our mother's lust."
"Whitley!" Face burning red with indignation, the girl placed her hands on her hips and growled. "Don't say that!"
The Schnee Whore. The Schnee Whore. The Schnee Whore.
No. No. No.
"Listen, you can't say that about mother!"
"Please!" He hissed. He too was growing agitated. "Mother left us to fend for ourselves! It's only because of you that we made it here!"
Was that true? No, no, no. It couldn't have been. She could deny it all day, but a part of her knew it was true. Willow had left with no trace to follow or anything for them to cling to. No food, no money, only a shack and tears to shed.
That had been the reason she nearly killed Whitley and herself. An act of mercy, she visioned. The root of it all had been her mother, really.
"Whitley-"
"Promise me..." His voice grew stronger and stricter. Looking at her without prying away, he studied her expression with an eerily calmness of his own. "You won't leave like mother."
Weiss promised to not fall into the sin of lust like her mother had. At once, her brother flew into a mode of easiness. And for once, she felt as if she could keep this promise.
ACEDIA
Stellar Dendrite fell into her grasp, the Atlesian prototype falling with a clank! She heaved, ears searching for the sound of the green button lighting up. The arena flashed with the fluorescent color, grip tightening as she raced forward.
She was nearly done, she was nearly done! All she needed was to fight the Atlesian knight and then-
The simulation came to a sudden halt. She watched in confusion as the robots that emerged from above crashed to the ground. The lights turned on, the fan that once spun wildly stopping out of nowhere.
General Ironwood walked into the arena and he didn't look pleased. Hands were hidden behind his back, a frown on his usual warm face.
"Weiss. A word, if you may."
Oh, and that tone he used as a headmaster instead of a guardian. Yeah, he was not pleased.
"What is it, Mister Ironwood?"
He took a step toward her, motioning towards the whip. "I have spoken to Winter and she has informed me of your application process."
So yeah, he was pissed.
Weiss stood bravely, sharing her own dislike on her thin face and nodding at his words. "Yes, sir."
"Beacon Academy is a fine school and-"
"My wishes are to stay in Atlas." She spoke strongly, blue eyes pleading silently. "Atlas is where I am from and that-"
"You have worked hard, Weiss. I can't deny that. But I know it's not safe for you here."
"But why!" She screeched, unaware of the glyph that formed behind her. The glyph was massive and white, floating in midair as she clenched her fist. The only reason she realized it was present was for the icicles that flew out of it, and that was when she spun around in shock.
The general narrowingly avoided them and Weiss did a backflip, throwing a hand in midair as the glyph disappeared.
He rose to his feet. Placing his hands back against his back, he shook his head. "Weiss, your safety is all that matters. And as your guardian, you are enrolling in Beacon Academy and that's final."
Misery kicked her gut. The hard, ugly rock drifted to the bottom of her stomach, helplessly watching as the man left.
She could fight this. Yes, this war was not over. Maybe she could send an application to Atlas Academy and then- but no, Ironwood was the headmaster. Great. Great. Great.
The next morning, she couldn't contain her anger as an acceptance letter from Beacon arrived.
Huh. She didn't even have to send an application. Maybe Ironwood's position could help in a couple of things. Of course, she felt annoyed at how her combat test for her dream school had gone to waste. Beacon accepted her without much of a bat of an eye.
Seventeen-year-old Weiss Schnee scoffed and grabbed her whip, deciding training for the rest of the week was futile anyway.
INVIDIA
There was much to be envious of Ruby Rose, though her pride bit at her tongue and she refused to admit it. The Girl in Red was always whisking her away in her dreams, yet her Ruby would be the one to hold her feet before she floated off to space. She could feel it, this was her Ruby.
And Ruby was filled with choice, she sadly knew. She was special and remarkable and strong. The warrior would be the perfect leader and she would follow without a hassle.
Meeting her silver eyes, she smiled and ignored the jealousy she felt.
Ruby had choices, Ruby had choices, Ruby had choices.
She did not. She did not. She did not.
The only choice she had was to blindly step behind Ruby in everything and soon, she learned that was the only choice she needed to make.
Weiss Schnee would follow.
a/n: Ruby's trailer was supposed to be the longest but apparently not. I did four dif. versions of the white trailer and while I kinda dislike this one, it's what fits Weiss the most for the next episodes in store. Anyway, thanks for the reviews, follows and favorites! Blake's trailer is up next and boy, the personality change.
Alsooo, as someone asked, yes, the girls' personalities will change. While reg. Weiss is cold to Ruby, this Weiss is all open arms to her. It's a reverse AU, after all.