Qrow Branwen sighed heavily and jammed his hands into his pockets while the cold air of the city of Atlas threatened to cut clean through him. There was something about the end of the year drawing near that made him mournful. It was a reminder of the loss of his closest teammate, and Summer Rose's death would haunt them all for the end of time. He scowled as he passed by Emmeline and Emmett Schnee's townhouse. There was a part of him that wanted to scream at them from the top of his lungs. He wanted to set them straight on their misdeeds, and he wanted there to be retribution for the misery Sapphire was going through. He took his niece's suffering as he would his own, and he could not stand for the way they seemed to set her aside. It was as if she were a mere blip. As if she were worthless.

He had little sympathy for the Schnees, although he couldn't help but remember the day prior. Of all the people he had expected to go off their rocker, he had always assumed Alice Schnee would be one of the first but to see her in the state he had was jarring. The air she always put on of strength and self-assurance had fallen away completely and, for a few seconds, he saw a vulnerable woman that was unstable at the very best. It was no wonder her wife was so concerned. There was little time for failure, he knew, but they had both the winter and summer maiden on their side. The tides were going to turn, soon enough, and perhaps Sapphire would be the only one of his nieces to become implicated. If they were not careful, he feared the worst. So much was already fraying, and he was unsure if there would ever be a chance for absolution or, at the very least, a decisive victory.

He paused upon hearing the ruckus down the street. There were protesters screaming and throwing rocks at the police officers and the little he could make out of their shrieks was clear as day: Scarlatina. He shook his head at the thought. Linena Scarlatina's death had thrown a wrench into Atlesian daily life, it seemed, and Annabella Sassler herself seemed to be doing little about it. The woman seemed more than content to remain safely ensconced in the presidential manor while the world seemed to crumble around her people. It disgusted him. Yet, as he continued to aimlessly meander the streets, he found himself at a loss of understanding regarding Alice. She had been a mess ever since Scarlatina had died, and she had hated the woman with such a burning passion that he had always suspected she would kill her herself. How could she be so upset about the death of the woman she hated most?

"Hey!" A guard barked at him "You're trespassing on Atlesian government property!"

Qrow glanced around and took in the area. He hadn't noticed that he had crossed into the parking lot of the Department of Foreign Affairs and Military Action. The building loomed in the distance, glinting in the faint sunlight. The guard was temporarily distracted by some people yelling at the other end of the parking lot and, with that in mind, he lingered. He was standing next to a shining, dark blue Mercedes-Benz with a diamond hood ornament. Qrow glared at it, feeling more and more like an outsider in the kingdom. He had a feeling if he stayed for too long that he would end up in jail, but he was sure if that were the case one of the other members of the group would bail him out. He shook himself out but paused upon noticing a baby car seat inside the car through the heavily tinted windows.

"If you smash my car, I will skewer you alive."

Qrow turned around in surprise. "Karissa."

"You don't have clearance," She noted, pulling her keys out of her coat. "What exactly are you doing here?"

He snorted. "You act like I'd tell you."

"You seem to forget that we're on the same side," She said dryly. "Are you only in Atlas to cause trouble?"

"Well…" Qrow smirked but then shook his head. "Karissa, I know things have been difficult but -"

"Stop," She said, crossing her arms. "Your entire existence is undeterred by things like reality."

"You're not wrong," He agreed, matching her stare. "But I think you're cold and I have to wonder if, somewhere, your heart still beats."

Karissa took in a sharp breath and irritably adjusted her glasses.

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response," She finally said. "Especially coming from you."

"Says the woman sleeping with Spencer Ciel…" Qrow muttered.

"That's enough," She snapped.

"You people are never going to understand sacrifice," Qrow felt his anger bubbling to the surface and found it almost impossible to suppress. "All you do is live comfortably up here in the greatest kingdom...and I have to wonder what had to happen for that to be the case."

He barely stepped out of the way in time when she angrily fired up her car and drove away.

Senator Ronnie Ciel reached to shut off the radio system almost as soon as it turned on. He had bumped it by accident when he'd started out of his office, but he stopped. It almost sounded like something was screaming coming through the radio. He set down his bag and stepped over towards it just a bit more. After a moment of hesitation, he adjusted the transmission dials and all that came out was static. The radio had been in there well before he had moved into the office, he knew, and he had never used it. With telecommunications, there was no need. Everything was processed through underground cables, and the CCTS towers. Yet there was something unsettling about what was happening. Another moment passed and he simply stood there, listening to the static.

"This is troubling…" He muttered under his breath.

Another moment passed in the silence and static. Senator Ciel swallowed hard and then shut the door to his office and leaned against the door. There was something distinctly unsettling by what he was listening to but he was afraid of what might happen if he tried to shut it off. The moment of his irrationality was going to haunt him, he knew. The frequency seemed to be rising; his ears were starting to hurt. His head was spinning, throbbing, and the room seemed to be spinning. He finally slammed his hand against the radio system and the force of it managed to shift the dial enough to change the station. This time, though, it was silence for what felt like an eternity before gravely voices started to come through the speakers. They sounded far away, but recently captured.

"Umm...we tried to do your bidding but, um, what exactly is bidding?"

"Yeah!"

"Want us to go online and buy shit?"

"I don't know my name!"

"Holy Coca Cola!"

"I really need someone to help me hide a body!"

"When you close your eyes, somewhere are you still alive?"

"Can you imagine the magic that might be under the madness?"

"I painted the walls with the motherfucker!"

He finally found the plug and ripped it out of the wall. The voices died out and he breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed his head. Once the room had stopped spinning, he stood up. He felt childish for having been curled up on the floor but he was still terrified by what had happened. Admittedly, it had been disturbing on all levels while the rest of it had been his own distress at it. He was sickened, and he was ready for a drink. This had to be a prank that one of his aides or one of their children was playing on him, in poor taste, of course. Yet something about it seemed to be unstaged. At the end of the day, he found himself terriified that he someone knew what he had done. Someone other than his wife, or Alice, or Roman. It was that which caused him to fear, rationally or not, that he was going to meet the same sticky end as Scarlatina.

He could scarcely come to terms with they had done.

Senator Ronnie Ciel was now a criminal, even if he were never going to be caught as one. With the threat of mutually assured destruction on all sides for what they did, no one was ever going to know that he had ever broken the law. Not another soul outside of their tiny group of conspirators would know but they were now permanently indebted to each other. He hated that he owed Roman Torchwick of all people anything. His wife had taken a softer view, but he privately believed that she had done that for the sake of trying to broker peace. After all, there was a lingering fear that things would get worse if just one of them stepped out of line. Madeline was far more proactive than he was, in the sense that she subtly dealt with problems. Ronnie, on the other hand, reacted immediately after the fact.

His thoughts were swirling in his head but all came back to one thought, a warning from those of old: false face must hide what the false heart doth know.

He was more startled by the knowledge that what done cannot be undone.

They all had power in the palms of their hands. His father was running for president with Sassler's term coming up on its end. His sister was a general, his sister-in-law was the head of the DFAMA, and he was now a ranking member of the security council despite having been unseated. He hated that he had lost his position in the senate and would be officially replaced in February but he had not lost it all. Perhaps he had even gained more power in the process.

Or, more worrisome, perhaps he had only gained more of a lust for power in it.

"Annie, I just don't know what to tell you," Nick Schnee shook his head. "At the end of the day, we have to support her. She's our daughter."

"And there's something not right about Jacques, I've been saying that from the start," Anne said, crossing her arms. "Cate agreed with me —"

"She also tends to stubbornly judge people instantly," Nick reminded her. "She and Willow have never been very close, either, and she may be vindictive on this."

Anne snorted. "I don't disagree that there's probably some selfish motivation behind her opinion, but that doesn't make her any less right."

"Annie…" Nick sighed as he began to follow her down the stairs. "This isn't about who's right and who's wrong, it's about whether or not we're willing to support our own daughter in staying with her husband. We have no proof of any wrongdoing, and…"

He trailed off and smiled as he and Anne joined the others in the living room.

"Hi, mom," Cristal awkwardly waved and shared a look with Ozpin, who affectionately squeezed her hand. "How have things been?"

Anne crossed her arms. "That woman ripped me off."

"She's a realtor mom," Cristal told her. "And she's Allison Adel. She'll do almost anything to make more money even though she and her husband have more than enough wealth as it is."

"We know someone else like that -" Anne started under her breath.

"A house divided amongst itself cannot stand," Nick murmured.

"Is it alright if I get some water from the kitchen?" Edward interjected, and he nodded.

Nick sent his wife a meaningful look and the two of them walked with Edward.

"Is something wrong?" Edward finally asked.

"More than you know," Anne replied darkly. "But I'm sure you could take a gander."

"Annie -" Nick started gently.

"Surprise!"

Anne, Nick, and Edward screamed and ninety-year-old Jacob Ciel grinned as he popped out of the giant, faux present with two knives in hand.

"What's -" Caitlin Schnee paused, looked up from her scroll, and raised an eyebrow. "Where'd he get those knives?"

"That's your first question?" Anne exclaimed, looking at her eldest incredulously. "How did he get into the house?"

"How did who get into the house?" Emmett asked, then laughing at the sight. "Emmy! Your grandfather's playing a prank on us!"

Emmeline ran into the room with their little girl following, giggling the whole time.

"Dad," Edward said calmly, stepping towards him with his hands up in surrender. "Put the knives down."

"Who has knives?" Alice all but tumbled down the stairs and then proceeded to awkwardly steady herself against her wife. "Isn't that Emmeline's grandfather?"

Emmeline eyed her curiously. "Have you been drinking?"

"Maybe a little," Alice shrugged. "It's Christmas time. No one gives a damn when I ain't got work."

"That doesn't…" Emmett shook his head. "Never mind, you've always been a bit weird."

"A bit?" Alice scowled. "I'm a badass that -"

"Hahahahaha!" Jacob Ciel pried himself out of the box, wheezing, and set the knives down on the counter nearby. "Can...none..of..you...take a joke?"

"Not on your life," Alice joked, and everyone turned to stare at her. "Oh, come on!"

"You terrify me," Emmett said, chuckling. "Maybe don't drink again?"

"I'm still smarter than you drunk!" She began to giggle almost uncontrollably. "I mean, come on!"

"Al…" Caitlin nervously took her wife's hand.

"Is this the first time this has happened?" Jacob asked, rather confused by everyone around him.

He may not have gotten a response, but the truth remained that it was not and it certainly wasn't going to be the last.

"Winter, listen," Alice said, probing her forehead. "I've got a knife slicing through my frontal lobe and I'm not going to be giving you anything less than -"

She paused upon her wife batting her hand away from her wine.

"No," Caitlin sent her a pointed look. "I'm not giving you any of my wine, not after what happened the other night."

Winter raised an eyebrow in concern. "What exactly -"

"I destroyed Qrow's car and subsequently puked all over the ground," Alice said tiredly. "Anything else you want to know?"

Winter grimaced. "Not particularly."

"Well, there you have it," Alice said, gesturing to her surroundings. "I'm too tired to fight either, so feel free to try and make me own up to whatever ethical inconsistencies I might have. Cate knows."

Caitlin elbowed her sharply.

"You see, now I'm concerned you've been reading too much or..." Winter shook her head. "Alice, you're not making sense and -"

"Shoot it," Alice told her.

"I didn't finish," Winter said, eyeing her worriedly.

"I'm too damn tired to care," Alice replied. "I barely understand anything you're saying. It sounds more like vibrations to me, and everything seems to be giving me a headache."

Her wife gently rubbed her back and Alice buried her face in her hands. It felt as if she were going to cry, and she didn't know what to do or say. She was all but subsumed by the blood on her hands. It had not been long since her greatest enemy had died, and she was realizing that being reinstated was not going to be worth what it had taken. The damned spot was now on her forever, and she barely knew how to move forward. In some ways, she feared she would never have the chance. Oh, lines from the works of old came back to haunt her, for it was the very same ambition that plagued her to the point of no return. She had realized just hours after there was no return that she had destroyed everything. It was over. She could never go back to the person she was and she could never atone for what she did.

Out, damned spot! Out, I say!—One, two. Why, then, 'tis time to do 't. Hell is murky!—Fie, my lord, fie! A soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our power to account?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him.

"Alice?" Winter lightly brushed a hand over her aunt's, startling her.

"What is it?" She eventually replied, adjusting the silk over her missing eye.

"You're unwell," Winter said gently. "You should rest."

"What I should do and what I actually do are very different things," Alice told her weakly. "I need to pull myself together, I'm sorry. I have to be...in a good state for my reinstatement."

"Al, really," Caitlin said, squeezing her wife's shoulder. "Are you sure you're going to be alright?"

"I don't know what I'm going to be anymore…" She muttered, brushing a tear away from her eye. "Everything has become absolutely…awful, to say the least."

Winter glanced to her aunt, who nodded subtly.

"Maybe you should take some time off," Winter said calmly. "It would be good for both of you, wouldn't it?"

"Sure," Alice said dryly. "It will give me a chance to burn for my sins."

"Al -" Caitlin started.

"Sorry, that was melodramatic," Alice shook her head. "Would it be better if I declared myself to be Lady Alissa Schnee, bottoms-up, in arms, deal or no deal with it isn't over until that fat lady sings and: here she is, the twenty-third and a half of my name?"

Winter began to laugh despite herself and even Caitlin smiled.

"So," Cate said with a smirk. "Does that make me Lady Caitlin Schnee, bottoms-up, in arms, deal or no deal with it isn't over until that fat lady sings and: here she is, the twenty-third and a half of my name?"

"Naturally," Alice said, shakily standing up. "I'm going to go lie down."

She watched her worriedly as she half-meandered down the hall, although she did not object.

"What's happening to her?" Winter mused, mostly to herself.

"I think Linena's death is eating away at her," Caitlin sighed heavily and unconsciously adjusted her glasses. "A form of survivor's guilt, most likely."

"Survivor's guilt isn't like this…" Winter paused but then shook her head. "No, you're right. She never would have been involved in this, she couldn't have."

"Hopefully this, too, will pass," She murmured, tapping her fingers lightly against the table in thought. "All things must die, now don't they?"