Vale, for a coastal city, rarely ever saw an influx of tourism that wasn't around seasonal holidays or during the kingdom-wide event known as the Vytal Festival. Though, for some reason, folks from near and far were flooding into the city, the shopping districts were flooded with folks visiting the kingdom capital. Even so, with the plethora of shops and places marked for tourists to visit, the streets were still clear enough to tread without consistently bumping into folks. There were, of course, certain areas that lacked the bustling scene of constant movement; the residential areas and the dust shops barred off with yellow tape and shattered glass from broken windows.

Standing aside a crowd of onlookers, watching the Vale law enforcement at work, two students watch with keen interest at the consistency of the type of shops being target, and how ineffective the officers were at preventing these robberies. More specifically, their interests were peeked at the mention of a certain organization being involved in these incidents.

Blake's ire was itched at the overall agreement of the officers that the Fang were involved with this attack, yet they could never seem to list a proper reason as to why they'd be attacking small shops. When her gaze turned to her classmate, he seemed a little irritated, muttering under his breath something along the lines of 'as if they'd waste their time'. His mumbling continued further into incoherence, though, Blake was hoping his thought process wasn't the same as the humans.

And therein lay a little hiccup she forget to bring up, during her time shadowing him and his uncle, the faunus managed to catch wind of a little conversation between the cowboy and some woman over a scroll. The person was of little interest, but the subject matter and the revelation that came with it were what nearly made her tumble from her seat. She didn't exactly know how to bring it up, it was something that made her uneasy, and still somehow with a form of kinship to this blond. His father and hers were friends, founded the White Fang alongside a fair few, and fought together for equality for the faunus. However, as she listened on, she learned of Jaune's father seemingly involved in a plot to overthrow her father from his position, which he stepped away from, not out of loyalty and devotion to his friend, but for the love of a human woman. It both made her want to rub the irony of it in his face, and unnerved the girl over how easily the boy's father was willing to betray her own father.

Though, even knowing all this, she couldn't despise Jaune, especially since he'd proven much more different from what his father sounded like; especially if the blond was more than willing to push moral boundaries to protect those closest to him. Not that the idea of him going so far was justified in any way, but it at least gave her a clear indication of where he stood in regards to those closest to him.

"Blake?"

Her mind snapped from its internal conflict to only now realize he had caught her starring at him. A creeping tint of red etched across her cheeks. Her expression shifted quickly from embarrassment to confusion as he stoically pointed behind her. When her head turned, her heart began beating at a rapid pace as there, glaring heatedly as both her and the blond stood her team. It was only then that she realized she forgotten to keep them updated as to where she was, and no doubt her team leader was going to make a big fuss over this.

Surprisingly, it was the white haired teammate that stomped towards them. Her face in itself would've been intimidating had she not arrived just a bit towards the blond, showing herself to be a chest level height at best, with her finger pressing aggressively against his chest.

"You. owe. US." She jabbed her finger in that last bit, rather harshly. Seeing the confusion on his face, she clarified, with just a single name. "Lacroix." And that was enough to garner a both shocked and sympathetic glance from the blond.

"I am so sorry." Though somewhat genuine, the angered glare from the heiress was not alleviated by an inch. The softened gaze from Ruby was of no surprise, she really never stayed mad for too long, nor did her sister as she seemingly eased up on the red eyes, though, her irritation of having to deal with the combat professor was not so easily forgiven. Especially since both she, and the Vaswani woman stayed the night in their rooms ranting about getting her hands on a certain cowboy. "Breakfast?" He offered, seeing Ruby light up ever so slightly, Yang smirked, and Weiss' stomaching rumbling at the perfect time; the five walked away from the crime scene to search for a spot to eat.

Which, although being at the center of Vale with all forms of shops in the surrounding area; finding a place to eat that wasn't packed was a difficult tread indeed, more so when it led to further towards the docks. Much to the slight irritation of the heiress, and the mild amusement of her teammates, the few barely packed restaurants were small pockets hidden just within the many apartment complexes and warehouses in this Vale district. The diner they eventually settled on was quite literally right below a highway, the few noticeable patrons inside were either construction and dock workers, or the occasional Vale officer on break from duty.

The huntresses were not as off put as one would expect, given the surrounding neighborhood could best be defined as a slum; dirtied streets, rundown complexes, and the occasional siren going off in the distance and slowly fading away.

The booth they had chosen gave them a clear view of the street, while also seating them in a U form, with Weiss sitting in between Blake and Yang, Ruby sitting next to her big sister and Jaune beside Blake, allowing the two team leaders to sit across from one another. For a short while, no one said anything, no one knew exactly how to start up a conversation as they could feel the eyes of the patrons glued on them; specifically the blond team leader. His eyes were fixed on his menu, not exactly noticing a pair of waitresses visibly nudging one another, gesturing to him every few seconds.

Blake could vaguely pick up on certain words here and there, the more prevalent being the name 'Ziegler', and of course the first thing to come to mind was the woman herself; Mercy. She spared the blond beside her a small glance, wondering what exactly was going through his mind in regards to having folks know of him through his mother's reputation.

Weiss, having heard only a name from the not so subtle waitresses, was not simply irate, but a tad bit envious of the blond. The work Mercy accomplished, the lives she saved throughout her career made her a household name amongst many hunters and social circles alike. For Jaune, the boy was looked upon as with favor and admiration, the eyes of those who saw him were reminded of his mother. The light shining down on him was nothing compared to the marred image her father had etched, smearing her family name with his business practices, and enticing a great deal of unwanted attention towards them.

In short; she was envious of the way people heard his name, and instantly saw him in such a light; as if he was Doctor Ziegler herself. Though, given his intended trajectory in life; she was sure the title would pass on to him as well. And with it, the love and respect his mother accumulated will be latched to him simply by association. But for her, she would have to strategize and be just as, if not more, conniving as her father in order to stay afloat.

Of course, if there was one thing the heiress could feel a sense of familiarity to the blond; having the White Fang place a bounty on your head, demand you face justice. What a joke; for those fanatics to assume they have any right to preach of justice and truth given their track record. If anything, now that she had time to think on it, she was glad Jaune didn't kill the assassin, but at the very least sent a clear message to that fanatic.

"E-e-excuse me?" The voice of a meek waitress caught the attention of the huntresses and hunter. The sight they were met with was of a young woman, possibly around the same age as them, mocha skin, curled forest green hair tied into a bun, and sapphire colored orbs staring directly at the blond huntsmen in training. "Are ya'll ready to order?"

Her accent, it was akin to something one would normally hear from Vale's more rural areas, the farming or industrial focused settlements along mining towns.

"Just coffee for me." Blake answered, having already eaten prior.

"Cottage cheese with Mistral toast, light butter, with a side of greens. And coffee as well." The heiress didn't miss the small twitch in the waitress' eye as she wrote down the order. Taking a second look, she noticed another waitress also eyeing her from afar.

"Steak and eggs, sunny-side up, white toast and some bacon added in. Some OJ too, if you got any." Yang listed off, earning a small grin from the waitress.

"Of course, ma'am."

Ruby was practically beaming when her turn came around. "The Pancake special, with extra syrup and jam please." Her smile was infectious, as even the heiress allowed herself a moment to smirk at her team leader's order of ungodly sweetened food.

"How 'bout a glass of milk to help ya wash it down?" The waitress was met with a gleeful nod as she turned her attention now to the blond eyeing the menu. "And you, hun?"

Jaune didn't reply, or rather, his eyes were fixed on the menu eyeing it a little longer before closing it. "A slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee." The waitress gave him a firm nod before taking the menus and walking away. As she walked away, the blond felt an unnerving shiver crawl up his spine, and he had a good guess as to who was eyeing him down.

"So, you wanna to tell us what you were doing last night with my partner?" The teasing in her tone indicated that was not a question, and she was lot going to let this go either. Yang wasn't exactly a wild card, despite how she acted. If anything, she was predictable, but she had the strength and intellect to stay on her toes and ahead of whatever goal she was aiming for. Determined; that was one of the best words that could be associated with her. And often it was akin to a double-edged sword. A great ally, but an irritatingly stubborn adversary. Long story short; she had it in mind to interrogate and garner either a fair stack of leverage over the two for teasing purposes, or she wanted to know the details of what occurred last night out of curiosity. In either case, it wasn't as though anything exciting occurred, aside from the amount of drinks he had with his siblings.

"We had dinner, I drank, she watched, and we spent the night at my uncle's house in Vale." He answered robotically, ignoring the widening smirk on Xiao Long's lips, and the face of betrayal Blake shot him for wording it in such a way that her partner had ammunition for teasing.

It didn't take long for the orders to come, Yang being the most excited to dig in, almost inhaling her meal as both Ruby and Weiss took their time. Blake drank her coffee in absolute silence, sparing a glance towards her partner, waiting for the brawler to come up with some form of teasing or joke to imply something between her and the blond leader of JNPR occurred. Speaking of…

She took a quick peak at the aforementioned leader, seeing his phone vibrate constantly. His reactions to each message he received were varied, though amusement and cringe were a reoccurring sentiment. She could only assume he was either speaking to family, or Nora, whichever made him squirm like that.

"Did you contact your team yet?" She asked, gaining his attention, though his fingers continued scrolling.

"Yea, told Nora I'd be back soon enough." He responded, earning a raised brow from the heiress.

"How soon?"

The blond shrugged, focusing his attention back to his scroll.

*ding*

The blond looked visibly shaken, his complexion paled almost to the same shade as the heiress'. His scroll trembled lightly in his hands, breathing had become a labor; and it only took a single message. Curiosity took the best of Blake, pun be damned, she leaned in, ignoring the teasing smirk from Yang, and the small pout from her team leader.

'Valkyrie touching down at Beacon.'

Now, it was quite obvious that the Valkyrie mentioned in the text was not the blond's partner, but to illicit such a reaction was indeed cause for concern. The others noticed too, it became increasingly worrying when the blond quickly shut off his scroll and was seemingly attempting to calm his breathing.

"Jaune?" The soft voice of the young reaper managed to reach him, his breathing calmed and his eyes half-lidded. The young huntress was justifiably worried at seeing her friend in such a state, especially with the still obvious fear of Fang out for his head. "Are you ok?"

His response lagged, at each moment he appeared to want to respond; he didn't. Again, he was hiding something, and whatever it was had him in a state of fear. It was moments like these that Ruby wanted to adopt her sister's tactics and pry her friend until he cracked. But she knew better; forcing an answer wouldn't be a good route to take, and knowing how things went the night prior thanks to Blake's late update; she barely scratched the surface, if at all.

"No…" His honesty was not expected, if their reactions were anything to go by. Though, after finally relaxing himself, the blond's expression steeled. "But I'll be fine after a bit."

For the rest of breakfast, that was it. Although Ruby and Yang had attempted to pry further into what could be bothering him; he either curved the conversation unto another topic, or he just dismissed the subject all together. Much to the apparent annoyance, albeit reluctance; of the brawler. Rather than heading straight for Beacon, which was the initial plan, the student opted to visit the shopping districts, leading them to end up in a rather large mall, filled to the brim with shops and restaurants of all kinds.

As for team RWBY and their 'friendly' medic, the five traveled together to any shop that caught their eyes. Ruby was smitten with dust and weapon shops, eyeing the stock as a child would a mountain of sweets. Yang being tied relatively close to the hip of her younger sister, she enjoyed seeing her sibling indulge in her hobbies, but she didn't trust the peering eyes fixed on her from the surrounding patrons.

Blake was passive, for the most part. She had in mind to visit a book store not too far ahead, intending to search for anything of interest, or perhaps news of the development of her favorite series. Of course, she couldn't associate Ninjas of Love with anything but the enticing reminder that one of her friends was related to the author, and had even offered her a chance to meet the man. Suffice to say, Blake was feeling rather excited at the prospects of greeting the famous Shimada in person, though, she had to wonder what the man was like.

Weiss, stayed outside of the weapons shop her partner quite literally dove into, refusing to step foot in a place with such smells she had grown accustomed and sickened by; grease, smoke, and dust. If there was one thing she grew to despise as an heiress; having to oversee the family business in ventures where a child should not be, such as mines and purification facilities. Though, she couldn't deny watching her partner quite literally bounce around with Yang barely able to keep up was amusing.

And yet, the current person occupying her thoughts was the blond standing beside her. Though he showed skill in properly maintaining his gear, and keeping his arm from any further incidents, Jaune wasn't all too excited with weapons like Ruby was. And honestly, that was understandable, the reaper did say the blond was aiming to be a combat medic, which he had yet to show any form of medical practice outside of healing an entire round of initiates…not that it wasn't impressive, but she assumed him being the son of the famous doctor would at least had a bit of knowledge passed unto him.

But she had to stop herself there; Blake mentioned in her texts how the boy came to Beacon to become his own person, to escape the constant praise and adoration of people who expected him to be just like his mother simply because of his name.

In many ways she found herself relating to his reasoning; moving to a city far from home, searching for a place in the world where he wasn't tied to influence of his name, hounded down by extremists for actions he could no control over…in a way, it was almost as if the two were living parallels.

If only for the polar opposite opinions people had of their families.

Still, she found being around him a little less intolerable. Not that being around the blond was a chore, but he certainly didn't help with keeping the peace. Nor was he a big help in keeping to a set plan as her eyes instantly caught him walking away from the weapons shop and towards what appeared to be an antique store just across from their current shop. It was a curious thing to see an antique store inside a rather newly constructed shopping mall, but the heiress payed it little mind as she glanced towards her teammates, seeing them currently occupied with their own devices before sighing and following the blond closely.

She didn't want to risk having him slip away, not when there was a peeved Valkyrie waiting for his return back at Beacon. To think her teammates and her managed to sneak away from Lacroix's grasp long enough to catch an airship to Vale.

As Jaune entered the shop, his eyes instantly began analyzing around, searching for a particular item. The store was empty, a bit of a surprise to the heiress, but in a way she somewhat expected this. With the current generation fixated on whatever new and fancy product was being produced, few ever had time to stop and admire the handmade jewels of an era that was still kicking about, only slightly more vocal with their disdain of the younger generation.

From where she stood, the blond was indeed admiring many pieces, more so the furniture and trinkets from the southern Solitas regions, no surprise there given his heritage, those pieces probably reminded him of home. Actually, now that she thought of it, the Schnee heritage also came from the southern regions of her kingdom, same as the blond. There was a fine difference in regards to the Zieglers and Schnees, the good doctor hailing from the barren mountain ranges, and the heiress' family originating from the more fertile highlands. And though the two spoke a similar language, Atlas was not composed of a single stereotypical identity, and neither were the other kingdoms; Mistral being perhaps the most diverse of the four. Still, in a way it was comforting to know there was someone of a similar heritage to hers, and with first hand knowledge her family would rather bury with lien and prestige.

Shifting in place, the heiress steeled her nerves, biting down any ill remark she could make, and trotted forward. Jaune knew she was approaching, hard not to when the only other footsteps in the store were those of the heiress. A faint smile curved itself on his lips as he spotted a wooden idol of a hawk, his mother had something like this at home; the wood was of a light shade, he would guess it birch, but then when it came to botany there was a severe lack of knowledge, no matter how many times it was hammered into his head by his opa.

"Find anything?" The heiress asked, eyeing a few trinkets, mostly the items resembling tribal clothing and old weapons sharpened to be mere ornaments now.

"New? Not likely." He gave her a coy smile, to which she returned with a slightly amused grin. "Interesting? Well, depends on what you make of it." He held up the wooden idol, noticing the heiress visibly cringe at the sight of it.

"A bit tacky, don't you think?"

Jaune's smile didn't fade; rather, it almost appeared as if it held in it a form of fondness. "Maybe, but that's not what I see." He commented, handing the idol towards the heiress. "Touch it."

She was hesitant, to say the least, but curiosity won over as she took the idol in her hands. And with all honesty, she was impressed by the smoothness of the surface, the detailed wings and body, and how beautifully the streaks of wood made the object stand out as a piece of its own.

"Folks would dismiss this as nothing more than a clichéd ornament, but that's not what I see." The blond gently took the idol back, placing it gently back in its place. "Here I see passion; an art people dedicated their life to. It took time and patience, constant trial and error, and this was the result. In a way, it's a lot like hunters, the grueling training and time we spend dedicating ourselves to our craft. But i suppose the big difference…" Jaune hesitated, observing another idol of a wolf. "Folks won't ever get tired of an extra muscle on their side."

There was a solemn silence that encompassed the shop, a bit odd to have glass walls that kept the noisy sounds of the mall out, but for an antique shop it was somewhat expected. Though, if anything, the heiress was visibly uncomfortable with the unnerving silence, and yet, she could not think of anything to speak of at the moment. Truthfully, what was there to rebuttal that didn't come off as pessimistic or rude?

Those kind of responses came naturally to her, but for the sake of maintaining a modicum of civility she bit down any harsh comments.

"Sorry, just something my opa taught me." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, returning his attention to the brass trinkets now.

His grandfather, and judging by the irritating smile he had each time he mentioned the old crusader, it was a fair assumption that the two were close. Considering Jaune's father was revealed to be deceased, it made sense for the boy to look up to his grandfather. Though, from what she'd been able to gather from other sources; most children tended to have close bonds with their grandparents, a common thing in a normal home.

When her eyes peered up, she only then noticed the blond had disappeared, hearing the sound footsteps in the next aisle. With a visible, albeit restrained sigh, the heiress followed closely behind, watching the blond interact with small wooden boxes. Upon opening them, soft melodic tunes began to play. Although, none of the various tunes playing captivated the blond for long as he shut the boxes no more than a few seconds after each. There wasn't a large selection of music boxes, with the exception of their designs being different each; the music selection was none too far apart. For a moment, the blond seemed almost frustrated with each box he closed. So much so that the heiress chose to take a gander at the items in the shelves across from the music boxes. To which she was greeted with antique mirrors and clothing from eastern Mistral.

However, before she could take a long gander at the items before her, a tune played in the background. Weiss couldn't describe it, but the melody was just so eerie, and comforting. She couldn't decide on which sentiment best fit the tune, but she knew damn well it sent a small chill up her spine when she swore she heard a whisper play along with the song. She turned her head to the blond, realizing the sound was coming from a music box in his hand, though, what caught her attention was the carve designs were not of Atlesian or Mistrilian origin; they were Vacuon. Specifically hailing from the western regions, closest to some of the few fertile plots of land in Sanus. As for her classmate, if there was a word she could use to describe the state he was in; it was as if he were entranced. Looking at him carefully, she noticed how his hands gently caressed the box, gripping it none too tightly, but just enough to keep it from being taken from his grasps.

For Jaune, this was something he personally had been searching for, not the box itself, but the tune being played. Ever since he could remember, it was his lullaby, something his mother played for him each night, just to help him sleep. After a while, and having used it many times; the music box no longer played its melody, not for a long time now. How long has it been since he heard that melody? The comfort it brought him simply to hear the tune, where most were put off by it.

For a moment, albeit fleeting, the blond swore he felt a pair of eyes fixated on him. And it wasn't the heiress' gaze. No, it felt as though it was from outside, but, when his eyes glanced towards the outside, he saw no one.

-17 years prior-

The sounds of muffled shouting and screams were emanating from outside a slightly darkened room. A small crib was positioned just beside an occupied bed; a young girl lay in slumber, her arm draped softly over a small bundle of blankets. The girl's head was nudged gently against the small child; trails of running makeup across her cheeks were shown through the moonlight from the slowly opening window.

With so little effort or noise to be made, a cloaked unknown made its way inside, quiet and clean. It hadn't been long now, not since the video was sent out, not since he'd seen the good old doctor go on such a rampage. Her carnage was a perfect antithesis to her callsign, made worse when she got her hands on the one that mutilated her child.

No one would miss those animals, so rest assured the elimination of the facility was be a blessing. However, to allow it to come to this…

*sniff*

Though hooded, the head of the unknown drifted towards the girl sleeping beside the infant, her sniffling was a constant, if one could venture a guess; she had cried herself to sleep. Her purple-dyed hair draped lightly over her face, soaked in sweat and tears.

The hooded figure's hand reached out carefully, hovering just slightly over the head of the girl, gently brushing aside a strand of hair from her face. Their hand drifted towards the child as they leaned slightly to get a closer look.

The infant's hair had yet to grow out much, and it only made the now clean bandages wrapped around his head all the more prominent. His faunus ears were cut clean off, down to the base. How he had not died from blood loss alone was perhaps a testament to a form of potential he possessed; a will to survive and thrive. If the White Fang was smart, they would've mutilated him, first hand, and sent the video after. But for the sake of petty revenge, they chose to broadcast their crime just to see the Atlesian doctor's reaction, and it led to their base being discovered, raided and with every member in the facility slaughtered without a second thought.

A soft hand brushed gently against the little one's cheeks, his little body shifted at the sudden contact of an unknown heat source, however, much to the surprise of the hooded figure; the child nudged closer. His little arms shifted, squirming out of the blanket that encompassed his body. As he nudged his head closer, a hand cupped his cheek, allowing the child to rest comfortably, accepting the heat and drifting back into deep slumber. With each soft breathe the child inched closer to the unknown.

A rasp hum escaped his lips, watching as this infant slept so peacefully after what had happened to him. It was a miracle the boy was able to sleep at all. Though, sparing at glance at the girl, it seemed as though there were others willing to bear the burdens of what he had to endure.

As his hand retracted, the little one's face shifted to one of discomfort as his little hands reached out, searching for the warmth that up and left without warning. His eyes were fluttering open, small droplets of tears were beginning to form. Knowing full well what would happen if this little one chose to cry out now, the unknown's hands reached over and grasped the child in his arms. Carefully repositioning the young girl's arms and gently cradling the little one close to him.

Almost immediately the child eased in, his head nudging against the unknown's chest, wincing slightly and recoiling back when his head nudged too closely against the unknown's chest and poked at his wounds.

It was a moment, a split second, but there was peace of mind for the hooded unknown seeing the boy safe and sound. However, there was work to be done, and idle hands are for the saintly. Still, to hold his child, if only for this one time; was comfort enough for the old veteran. A war was on the horizon, and only time would tell if he would see his little one again.

Of course, this little visit was partially why he came to see the child. Reaching into his coat, the unknown retrieved a small cube, placing it on a drawer across from the bed. Slowly, he lifted the top allowing a tune to come alive. The music box wasn't decorated; it appeared as simple as any other wooden compartment used for storage, but the inside was a culmination of carefully detailed intricacies, resulting in a melody one would be hard press to associate with calming or peaceful. The young blond however remained at peace, even when he was placed back in his crib, all the while the music played softly in the background. Once more, the hooded figure ran a gentle finger across the infant's cheek, tenderly brushing against the little one's hair and careful enough to avoid the bandages.

However, the muffled shouting had stopped, almost immediately. There was a moment where only one pair of feet was rushing up the stairs, followed by an ensemble. It seems she still remembered this little melody, and to whom it was associated with.

Just as the door flung open, and the young girl on the bed sprung to life with the flicker of the lights; the hooded figure was gone, with only the music box as evidence to his presence in the room.

Feeling the space around her, the young girl's breath grew heavy as she frantically searched around, only to hear the soft whines coming from the crib, allowing her to breathe easy. She jumped from her place and released a long sigh when she saw the little blond in bed, perfectly safe. She held back a choked sob as she tried shushing the little one by gently rocking him back to sleep.

Angela paced towards where he child was, seeing him squirming in place, not prepared for the sudden flicker of light and slamming door that awoke him from his slumber.

Gently, the doctor hoisted her child in her arms, cradling him gently while her eyes remained fixed on a wooden music box in front of her bed, the song still playing for all to hear.

What frightened her the most; she knew to whom the music box belonged to, and what it entailed further down the line. Angela's mind was now firm on her decision; she was leaving, going as far from the Kingdoms, from Ozpin, and any other threat to her family. She would protect her son, no matter what. And heaven or hell forbid any soul that attempted to take her baby from her. Nothing would take him from her...

Not even…him…

AN: I really need to work on my wording; when I said 'don't expect a happy ending' I should've written 'the ending won't be disheartening, but don't expect a happy ending. Expect it to be bitter sweet.'

And I in no way am gonna allow the story to end in a tragedy, that I can promise.

Now, if ya'll haven't guessed it by now, it should be pretty obvious who Jaune's father is, at least to those who play Overwatch. Though, I shall not reveal it in story until after the battle at the harbor, for plot reasons. Also, yea the good ol doctor will be making an appearance much sooner. Expect a healthy dose of mama Mercy in the coming chapters.

Also, for anyone wondering; the song I had in mind for the music box is Illabye by Tipper, I thought it fit well into the aesthetic of what I'm aiming for.

Just a little warning, my work load is gonna increase by the time this chapter is uploaded, tough, I will try to have a new one out soon. Thank you all for reading. Thanks for reading.

Responses:

Underdogking: It's too early for deaths…soon

Dracohalo117: Thanks, glad you're enjoying the story.

Almighty Spartan: I'm sorry to hear that, honestly I wanted fuse the worlds together where you could tell the difference, but still come out predominantly as a RWBY story.

Josh Spicer: No, in no way is Jaune EVER going to bend to anyone's will, not in the context we're discussing at least. I can't stop you if you chose to leave, but rest assured there will be no 'bad ending' for this story. Also, yes, the setup is to have him independent, but in regards to family and trying to find your place in the world; there are hurdles and emotional issues that will need to be resolved before moving forward. Expect loud and messy results.

A Nameless Ghost: I'm glad to be back, and honestly, I wanted to avoid the overly possessive sibling route, but honestly, considering the history I've written for the story, it kind of makes sense in the chapters to come. There will definitely be more scenes like this, I guarantee.

Ulquiorra Schiffer 1291: You have no idea how happy I am you caught that, I assumed it might've flown over folk's heads. I thought 'well damn, too sublte'. I don't like being too obvious, but I need to be less cryptic.

ZenithTempest; Well, we can chalk this up to me needing to work on my wording. The story won't be depressing or tragic, at least not entirely, but I won't be making it completely sunshine and rainbows either.