Underneath the Schnee manor, there were a small set of rooms that held all sorts of security technology. There were computers, monitors, camera links, scanners, and really anything that could be useful in keeping the family safe as they became higher profile. Willow had stored the tapes she had stolen from her mother down there, but she had yet to look through them herself, in part because she was afraid of what they would show. Her mother was an enigma, at best, and no one doubted that Lillian Schnee could be far worse if pressed. She was a woman of position, prestige, and power. Her personal fortune (mostly inherited from her dead husband) was greater than that of most, and she made no attempts to hide it. Willow swallowed hard as she loaded the stolen tapes into the reader. She wasn't sure if she were ready to see what her mother had to hide (and the entire world seemed to be imagining what it could possibly be) but she had stolen the tapes. She had already done the hardest thing. To back out now, she told herself, would be stupid. If she were capable of breaking into her own mother's home, then she was capable of watching the damn security tapes. Willow wanted more than anything to believe she was worried about nothing. That was a fantasy at best.
Her pale hands shaking, Willow prepared the reader to play the feed. Lillian's software was surprisingly easy to operate once it was out of her home, something that set Willow on edge. Lillian was crafty; if, by chance, she had designed it to trace back to anyone who would have the balls and skill to do so, then Willow would be screwed. Still, she had decided she needed to know and, while she wouldn't admit it, she desperately wanted to know. None of them had ever had the upper hand when it came to their mother, and being able to grasp it for even a little while was a thought too good to ignore. No, she (and all of her siblings) had spent their entire lives under the manipulative watch of their mother and none of them had ever truly been able to fire back at her. Lillian had been cunning, but this was the end. Willow bit her lip, struggling still with the acknowledgment that she and Emmett were the only two of their siblings still alive. Their family portrait was pretty tragic, and it only seemed to become worse with each year that went by. Emmett was acting like a child, she had fallen back into a hazy state, and their mother had all but lost her mind. No, it was unlikely they would ever be able to return to being a normal family. At this point, it was nothing short of utterly impossible.
Willow's attention quickly snapped up to view the first bit of feed. It was mostly boring security footage. Occasionally, dogs would bark or mail would be delivered or there would be an old friend of Lillian's coming to offer condolences. It was rather boring, and Willow found herself feeling foolish for suspecting her mother was digging herself down deeper since she had been accused of causing her firstborn's death and since it was discovered that she didn't pay her taxes. She was not one that ever played by the rules, but Willow was beginning to think that her fears had been created out of a desire for closure. She never had gotten to say goodbye to her sister, nor had they ever reconciled their differences. Willow knew she didn't feel guilty, but she was saddened by the fact that there had been nothing to be done. She didn't understand how it had all ended the way it had. Ultimately, none of them could. She buried her face in her hands, her mind spinning and her eyes growing heavy. It was too damn much to even think about clearly. She was deep in emotional turmoil, the same as everyone else in the family, but she couldn't explain why it was making her so paranoid. She wrote it off to fearing her powers as the Winter Maiden. That was the most logical conclusion, after all.
Yet she paused when she finally looked back at the tapes one last time. A man had appeared, with tanned skin and a thick mustache. Willow could only stare in horror, knowing the man was Dr. Arthur Watts himself.
Summer Rose cradled her little girl in her arms while she looked over the list of potential missions. Ruby was peacefully asleep (even with Yang's running around the house) and, nearby in his portable crib, so was Felix. It was turning out to be a quiet day, and Summer couldn't help but find it funny. Nothing was ever really quiet for them. Usually, things would get broken, or there would be betting and fighting. Today, in contrast, there was stillness. Even the frigid winter air seemed calm. Tai was out picking up groceries, and Qrow had sent them both a message via their scrolls to tell them he would be back from his mission soon. With everything that had seemed to have collapsed since Angelica's death, Summer was glad to see some semblance of normalcy return to their lives. It was an odd thing to be happy about, she supposed, but it was something they had lost. Sighing, Summer glanced at the other new messages. A few of them were from Emmeline, someone she had been spending more and more time with. Summer had never imagined she would become close with someone like her, but Emmeline and Emmett were both in the group and they were Qrow's in-laws (no matter how much he and Emmett resented each other).
"Sums!" Tai called, stepping into the house with his hands full. "Tell Qrow I'm going to kick his ass when he gets back from his mission."
She rolled her eyes. "Why? Whet did he do this time around?"
"Easy," Tai replied, setting down the bags in the kitchen. "He left me to do all of this myself. It's a good thing I'm so chivalrous."
Summer laughed. "Yes, you're my knight."
"At all costs," Tai promised, kissing her cheek. "I will gallantly protect you, oh Miss Summer Rose."
She smirked, glancing at one of the bags. "I think your ice cream's melting," She teased. "I know it's winter, but it's going to be soup if you don't put it away."
"Well, that's fair," Tai agreed, stating to put away the supplies. "I wouldn't want a good pint of vanilla ice cream to go to waste."
Summer giggled. "Just don't eat it all yourself and then moan about how gross you feel. Also, I'm glad pretty sure Yang —"
"Ice cream!" The three year old shrieked excitedly, running into the kitchen and hugging Tai. "Ice cream!"
"Not right now," Tai told her. "Later."
Yang pouted. "Okay…" She said sadly. It didn't matter. She was notorious for getting into her favorite snacks somehow and then getting hyper and running it off.
"Anyways," Tai said, still putting things away. "Are you still planning to go on a mission soon?"
Summer hesitated. "I'm thinking about it," She admitted. "But Ruby is also so young and…"
"You don't have to," Tai told her. "We'll be okay. Honestly, we can find a way to get by."
Summer smiled a little, for once since the tragedy able to relax and trust that they would be able to manage.
Ozpin stared out the window from his office, taking in what was happening below. He was often amused by students fighting, especially when there were fewer of them at the Academy due to the winter holidays. It seemed, per usual, a small duel had been started. He had never quite understood why so many of the students tried to settle their disputes that way (it had been illegal for centuries, especially given how many people got shot in Atlas because of them) but it was amusing to watch. It was clear the whole damn point was just to show up and see who chickened out first. Still, Ozpin knew they often took them very seriously (perhaps dangerously so) and there had been a few times, he admitted, where students had injured each other. When they would later complain, all Ozpin ever had to say on the matter was "but did you die?" Glynda, Port, Oobleck, and the other professors didn't seem to think it was as entertaining, but Ozpin had heard them all admit, to varying degrees of exasperation, that it was sometimes a long time coming. Duelling certainly was a rarity, but it was one that could be found at Beacon and not very much else. Ozpin almost laughed at the rather ridiculous thought of Admiral Winchester allowing Atlas Academy students to duel (it wasn't as if Atlas Academy wasn't tough as nails and strict as hell).
Nicole was reading through work on her scroll, sitting near him and occasionally standing up to pace through his office. It was only a few weeks until their wedding and, for as excited as they were about it, there was little else to be happy about. Both of them were concerned about the increasingly dangerous situation in Mountain Glenn. The Atlesian military was considering a brief withdraw of troops from Vale to address the worsening situations in Vacuo and Menagerie. The Atlesian legislature couldn't pass even a damn budget because they were so polarised, and, amid the chaos in cities and the violence that accompanied it, Atlesian President Marabelle Brie was struggling to hold the kingdom together. She herself was personally under attack politically (partially because she was a faunus) and it was clearer every day that Atlas wasn't sure what to do with itself other than try to uphold their status as the greatest and freest kingdom while simultaneously ignoring their own problems by hating their enemies. No, the situations their world was facing did not make their lives any better, and Ozpin knew that Salem had to be relishing in the fact that she was able to cause even more havoc amid the chaos caused by men. More than ever, and especially now he had Nicole, Ozpin wanted to defeat Salem, the Dark Queen.
At the end of the day, though, he knew defeating Her was going to be like trying to catch smoke in their bare hands.
Glynda and James both knew something was very wrong when Zoey had come home from preschool with a black eye. Caity had witnessed the whole thing and claimed it was "the big guy" that took Chloe home with him. Zoey had only confirmed it by mumbling and nodding through tears. Of course, their eight year old eldest was in trouble at school for hitting the adult that supposedly slapped Zoey but their concerns were far greater than their daughter trying to defend her sister. They had so much to consider; the girls' well-being, work, that Glynda was due in a few weeks. They didn't want to have to deal with something like this, but they both knew they would have to intervene. They had cleared up the matter with Caity with a few sharp words and threatening to sue for Zoey's injuries, but it had done nothing to change the fact that Zoey's best (and seemingly only) friend was in the legal custody of someone who had, by the sound of it, given Zoey — a young child — a black eye. They had nothing against Zoey's friend or even that she was struggling to make friends. Their eldest, too, had trouble making friends and wouldn't unless she decided their energy felt "right." Still, Caity made friends (and enemies) everywhere. Zoey simply did not.
It was the uncertainty that frightened them the most. Hearing the girls try and explain what happened only made the situation more uncomfortable. Caity was certain he had said something about "damn Atlesians" (although she wasn't sure what that was) and Zoey had no doubt about who had hit her. There had been others that had seen it too, if course, but they had all been more preoccupied by their own children. Glynda sighed heavily and tightly embraced both of her girls, relieved they were alright. Sitting by her side, James kept an arm wrapped loosely around her and hoped they would be able to figure something out. It was possible, of course, that it had been an accident. Yet the man in question, according to the principal, had been Hazel Rainart. That was a name both Glynda and James were somewhat familiar with because of their work with Ozpin. Hazel was an extremist and a White Fang sympathiser that held a severe hatred against the entire kingdom of Atlas, humans, and Ozpin personally. While they silently agreed it would not be in Hazel's best interests to make a scene, neither of them could deny the possiblity that he just did not give a damn. It wouldn't be the first time, as Oz had explained, and that was exactly the problem.
"I'm glad you're okay, Zoey," Glynda finally said, reaching up to gently adjust her glasses. "Does your eye still hurt?"
The little girl whimpered, holding a light ice bag against her eye. Finally, she set it on the table and laid her eye down on it.
"He was big," Caity told them. "He was scary, too. I don't know why Chloe went with him. I don't think he was her daddy."
James shook his head. "You're right," He said truthfully. "He's not."
"I'm hungry…" Zoey mumbled, sounding extremely disoriented. "Mommy…"
"I'll get you a snack," James stood up immediately and grabbed some crackers out of the pantry for the girls. Caity excitedly took a few (along with fruit snacks) and started to nibble with Zoey. "Is that better?"
Zoey made a weak noise in assent. Caity simply grinned.
"If your eye still hurts in the morning, I'm going to take you to the doctor," Glynda said, lightly rubbing Zoey's back. "Alright, Zoe?"
"Okie…" Zoey weakly started on her crackers.
"You girls are going to be fine," James assured them, squeezing Glynda's shoulder affectionately. "You're safe."
Caity looked at them with suddenly wide eyes. "Really?" She pressed anxiously.
"Yes," Glynda promised her. "It'll be okay, goosie."
James shared a knowing look with her, their own trepidation about what had happened still worrying them. Glynda took his hand, and, for a moment, they tried to put it aside.
There was something about Haven Academy that felt wrong to her, and Renné didn't like one bit. She was keeping guard around the camp (and stealing provisions when the time was right) which was close to the city itself. It wasn't just the Academy that set her ill at ease, however. She kept seeing an amber eyed girl on the outskirts of the village and had for a few days yet, much like a ghost, she disappeared long before anyone could get a good look at her. It was completely unsettling. Renné had only a few guesses about who or what this girl could be, and absolutely none of th were good. She could be truant orphan, or a criminal (although, admittedly, she and the tribe were arguably criminals), or something else entirely. A small part of her intuition insisted that this girl must have something do with the Dark Queen's pawns. After all, Raven herself had confessed that she was sure Salem kept tabs on them. It was such an odd feeling, knowing this girl could be anyone and be anywhere; she could be miles and miles from where Renné stood, or she could be mere feet away. It was a terrible thought, but it prevailed. Renné had never thought of herself as paranoid before but, now, she was beginning to wonder if paranoia was her destiny. It was a heavy notion, to be certain.
The air around her was cold, stifling, and shifting into something much stronger entirely. No, this was not a normal time. All she could feel was the stinging in her face and hands, as if the wind were trying to cut her open. Having grown up in Atlas, she wasn't unused to the sensation but it didn't make it better knowing she had felt worse. The funny thing, about the way time had seemed to pass faster since she had joined the tribe, was that death seemed to make life quicker. She could all but feel the Reaper's scythe pressing into her neck before slicing off her head. She was not afraid of death, not after seeing so much of it growing up, but she wanted it to be delayed until after she was able to reunite with her husband and son. Raven had called her foolish for it, but she had to hold onto something. Hope was elusive enough as things stood and it eee only going to fade more and more as time went on. Renné sighed heavily, jamming her freezing hands into the pockets of her coat. She glanced around, wondering where the people she loved and yet abandoned were now. She had no way of knowing if they were okay; truthfully, the only news articles she could ever gather from the papers were about her mother but Renné could hardly believe the state her mother was in.
She had never imagined that her mother would react poorly to her perceived demise, but the entire world seemed fixated on the madness it had apparently driven Lillian Schnee into. Personally, Renné thought her mother had always been crazy. She was a greedy, arrogant, power-hungry woman that had no respect for anyone but herself. Willow had even gone so far as to say, once, that she thought Lillian was a sociopath. It wouldn't have been terribly surprising. Still, there was something about knowing how hurt her mother was that caused her heart to sting. Renné had never been particularly close with her mother and had always thought Lillian hated her. To see evidence otherwise was utterly jarring, and she had been "dead" for long enough. Clearly, both her mother and the media were fixated on what happened. It would sell well, as all gossip did, and Renné hoped there was nothing to the articles except for infamous profit margins. She hated the notion of being the cause of so much pain; she had known it, to an extent, but she had also suppressed it. This new life was altering the very lens through which she saw the world, and it was upsetting to say the least. She thought she had known what was to come.
After all, she had made her decision and signed in blood.