"You should probably go check on your friends."
Weiss sighed, shaking her head and gazing out the window of the nearly pitch black room.
"I know."
"Wallowing in contemplation isn't going to help you."
"I know, Whitley. I know."
She tucked her legs up onto the windowsill, squishing her guitar between her thighs and stomach. Her brother stared sightlessly across the bedroom, gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
"But?"
"I'm scared, Whitley."
"What of?"
She sighed.
"The world is ending. I'm scared that I won't have moments like this again."
She put her legs out slightly, freeing up the strings of her guitar and strummed it cordless. The telecaster made no noise, as it was unplugged, and the strings were too loosely wound to ring out in the large space.
"That's a rational fear, I guess."
"I just wanted one last moment with a family member, maybe play my guitar one more time. For all we know, the next twenty-four hours could be our last."
Whitley nodded.
"Yeah."
"I appreciate you calling Klein. Without you, Nora might not have made it."
He nodded, making eye contact for a brief moment.
"You know, I could be my usual self and say something like 'I didn't do it for you' or something. But that would be disingenuous. Because I did do it for you. Because you needed my help. And I didn't feel it was right. To not help you."
Weiss smiled and leaned her head against the window.
"Thank you. I'm sorry I almost stabbed you in the face yesterday."
"It happens."
Weiss chuckled.
"I suppose it does," she sat up and leaned the guitar against the frosted glass. "I should go check on Penny and Nora. They're more important than six metal strings on a piece of wood anyway."
She took a long look at said piece of wood. White lacquer with a white pickguard, bronze switches. Truly one of a kind.
"Shame it will probably be destroyed. Along with the rest of this place. I had a lot of good memories in this room, Whitley."
She looked around. A freestanding rack of guitars sat against the wall, as did a pair of cabinet speakers and a tube amp. This was her music room. Her place of joy in an otherwise clinical and sterile house full of emptiness and resentment. A grand piano sat in the middle of the room, various recording microphones and mixing boards sat next to it. Her two platinum-certified records sat in their display frames on a table near the door.
"I know you have. So have I."
Her brother stood slowly from his chair, and turned to face the door. She lamented and sniffled.
"I wish I could save at least some of them."
"The guitars?"
"The memories, Whitley. The guitars are material goods. Some of them are one of a kind, but everything material can be replaced. One of a kind or not, I can always buy others. I'll miss the moments like this."
"That's fair."
Weiss gently reached over and stroked the headstock on her guitar.
"If I could save my guitars I would, though."
"You could always ship them out in The Tubes."
Weiss glanced over and frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Since you showed up and the looming doom of that giant Grimm whale arrived, I've been shipping some of my important personal effects out of the manor in The Tubes. There's a shipping corridor that ends up in Argus."
"That's awfully convenient."
"And now that you've proved that they're safe for people to use, I was going to Tube myself and mother too."
Weiss chuckled, remembering the surprise journey through The Tube.
"That's a good idea, Whitley."
"I have them, on occasion. You and your friends could come along to Argus, you know."
She shook her head.
"No, we have to stay. This is our fight. It's our responsibility."
"I know, Weiss."
She picked up her guitar by the neck one last time, holding it in her arms and rocking it back and forth. She sighed and turned to her brother, holding the guitar outstretched.
"Send it away. At the very least, if I die, give it to someone who needs it."
"Of course."
"Thank you, Whitley. You're very selfless."
He smiled honestly, for the first time she could remember. He took the guitar from her. It looked large against his skinny body.
"I don't do it for you."
"I know."
"Go see your friends. I'll see you on the other side."
He turned and left the room. Weiss sniffled and looked back out the window. She wondered how Ruby and Blake were fairing with the generators.
/…/
"Ma'am?"
Weiss snapped back to reality, a piece of quartz in one hand and a digital caliper in the other.
"Huh?"
"You were spaced out for a moment there."
She turned to look. An employee wearing a Schnee Energy Conglomerate hi-vis vest and white hard hat was standing next to her desk, looking at her with a confused grin. Right, the site foreman. She set the caliper and the rock down and rubbed her temples. The Immortal War was over. For seven years it had been over. Why did she keep thinking about it? A groan escaped her lungs.
"Ugh. Was I?"
"Yeah, I was about to call the medic. Glad you're back with us."
Weiss groaned again and stood up, picking up her notebook and clipboard from the desk. She was glad someone cared.
"Sorry, I was…" she twisted out a crick in her back. "...distracted."
She reached for her own hi-vis jacket and slung it over her shoulders, and threw on her own white hard hat. With a turn and another groan, she exited the little canvas tent she had been working in and into the site. A vast deep hole in the earth stretched out before her, four miles across and nearly a mile deep. An army of trucks and equipment trundled up and down the snaking roads, seeming like toys from this distance. Weiss approached the concrete k-rail that separated the top ground level from the first 200 foot drop.
"We're on track for another blast by the end of day Friday."
Weiss shrugged, setting down her notebook on the K-rail and examining the open part of her sitemap on the clipboard.
"That's good. That's… good."
A chill bit her through her coat. The salesman had promised her this jacket was good down to minus forty. It was only minus five. She scowled, regretting skipping the sweater she had set out for herself before breakfast.
"Demolitions and Excavations probably want to see you."
She sighed.
"Probably? What do you mean 'probably', do they want to or not?"
The foreman balked at the question.
"W-well-"
"It's fine, I'll go see them," she shivered and glanced down at the winding roads leading into the quarry. "I'll… go see them. You get back to work."
"Yes, ma'am."
She watched him leave in his truck, back to the site office on the other side of the cut. She shook her head and picked up her notebook. Grey clouds hung above the quarry. March had been unexpectedly cold this year. She trudged back to her tent, pushing the thin flap that served as a rudimentary door out of the way and wiping her feet on the mat, not that the dirty mat would clean her dirty boots. The coffee maker still had half a pot in it, and she pulled the carafe down and poured enough in the mostly-empty mug on her desk that it would be at least nearly hot. She put the carafe back and took a sip of the coffee. It wasn't great.
She grabbed her keys off the shelf above her desk and exited the tent again, and turned around the right side of the brown canvas structure to her company-issued Land Cruiser pickup. Across the door was written Mineral Resources and Geology, just under a tiny W. Schnee, . She sighed and yanked the door open. It creaked like an antique, despite being a new truck. The dust aggregate that floated in the air in the quarry did that to stuff. Door hinges, coffee makers, her joints. She tossed her clipboard and notebook across the cab to the passenger seat and gingerly hauled herself into the driver's seat. She hadn't hopped so well recently. Entry and egress of the tall four-by-four was getting painful. She took another sip of the bad coffee before setting the mug on the dash and rattling the truck's diesel engine to life.
"Why are we doing this, Weiss?"
She didn't answer herself, and chose instead to just grit her teeth and drive. The journey to the bottom of the quarry took the better part of forty minutes. It involved a maze of twisting haul roads and the occasional call over the CB radio to alert the equipment operators that she was driving near them. And the whole ride down she shivered, having been advised not to run the truck's heater to avoid pulling in all the dust in the air into the cab. What she wouldn't give for a heated seat or a proper cabin air filter. When she reached the bottom, her coffee was empty and her teeth were somehow not rattled out of her skull from the rough roads. The Demolitions supervisor was waiting outside of his truck, in the middle of a staging area as she pulled up next to him. She cranked her window down and leaned out.
"How's she goin', b'y? Enjoy de drive, eh?"
The man's accent was as pleasing as it was nearly incomprehensible. An eastern Patch accent. She grinned at him.
"Same as usual, thank you for asking. How is work progressing down here? End of the week?"
"Don'tcha knowit. Some marnin' dis marnin'."
She laughed.
"I like how concise you are. You have my report ready?"
He handed her a document in a folder. She opened it and briefly passed her eyes over it.
"Mind now, boss."
She just rolled with it, the big bearded man guffawing at himself. She sighed and smiled at him again.
"I appreciate it, thank you."
"No problem a-t'all, wee girlie."
She laughed.
"Alright. Guess I'll go back up top then."
"Deadly deadly. Steer 'er safe now."
He slapped the side of her truck twice and left, back to his site trailer. As soon as he had driven off, she grabbed the file off the dash and read through it a little deeper, checking recorded blasting depths against her notes. All the information slowly blended into one uniform colour after a while, really. She very nearly let it put her to sleep again, before the ringing of her phone in her pants pocket woke her.
"Ah crap."
She shook out her head and put the file and her notebook back on the passenger seat and tried to grab her phone, but found the seat too cramped to reach with the steering wheel in the way. She kicked the door open and stepped out onto the muddy quarry floor fighting her gloves off and setting them on the hood of the Toyota and finally extricating the still-ringing phone from her pocket. She glanced at the screen, reading 'unknown caller' across the front. Probably a client, she figured, as it had an Argus regional code. She slid her thumb across the screen to answer.
"Weiss Schnee, Geology."
"Hey, Weiss."
She stopped dead in her tracks. A voice she hadn't heard in the better part of seven years. One she had almost forgotten the sound of. Her heart skipped a beat.
"Jaune?"
"Yeah. It's me. Just Jaune."
She almost laughed out loud.
"Uh… hi."
"It's been a while."
"It has been."
They were both silent for a minute or two. Weiss was dumbstruck.
"How have you been?"
How had she been? She had no idea how to answer that question. It seemed almost loaded. Times had changed, people had come and gone, her life had advanced. She wasn't sure of an answer that would satisfy him. Seven years of no contact. How would she even explain it all in such a short time? She realized that she couldn't. A lie would have to suffice.
"I'm doing just fine, I guess. How are you?"
"I'm in a bit of a pickle, actually."
She chuckled, imagining him actually inside of a pickle.
"Is there… something I can help you with?"
"Would you want to come play guitar with me and my crappy cover band?"
She actually did laugh out loud this time.
"Wh-what?"
"Yeah, our lead guitarist is going to miss our show on Friday because his daughter's being born or some other lame excuse."
She grinned, staring up at the side of the quarry and watching a haul truck trundle up the steep hill.
"And you thought of calling… me?"
"You were my first choice, Weiss. I know it's been a couple of years since we spoke, but–"
She interrupted him.
"Jaune, I'd love to. But I am kind of at the bottom of a pit right now."
"Do you think playing guitar might get you out of your pit? Like it used to?"
She appreciated that his humour hadn't changed.
"Jaune, I wasn't being metaphorical, but I think you're right anyway. I'll come play guitar with you, Jaune."
"You will? Awesome! Hey guys, she said she would!"
She sighed and rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm, smiling in spite of herself.
"Where are you, Jaune?"
"In Argus, at my sister's place. You remember?"
"I think I know where.I can be there tomorrow."
Jaune made a giddy noise on the other end of the phone.
"Do you want me to pick you up at the airport?"
"No, that's alright, I'll make my brother arrange a car for me."
"Well, okay, if you're sure. Just send me a text when you land, okay?"
She smiled and nodded.
"I've got a few stops to make before I get there, but I'll let you know, okay?"
"We'll be waiting. See you soon, Weiss."
"See you, Jaune."
The line ended. She stood for a moment in the muddy quarry. A weight had been lifted. She stared at the sky and laughed. Maybe it was time for her to use a bit of that excessive vacation time she had accrued. She fired her brother a quick text. Maybe it was time to relax. And how better to do that than by playing guitar with Jaune. Her phone rang again, this time her brother's name came across the screen. She answered swiftly.
"I'm taking my vacation effective immediately."
"...Okay, what am I supposed to do about the excavation?"
"That's not my problem right now, I'm on vacation."
There was a loud sigh from the other end of the phone.
"Alright, whatever. At least you're consistent with your disregard of me and my company."
She chuckled.
"You'd be lost without me, little brother."
"Evidently."
"Say, where did you send my guitar ten years ago?"
/…/
She yawned, head pressed against the window of the limo. Sixteen hours of flying and airports were catching up to her. Excitement and adrenaline only lasted so long, after all. She thought she remembered there being a store somewhere along this road from her brief stay in Argus. She hoped it still remained. It had been ten years and a war since then, however. A sign came into view down the block. She perked up.
"There! Stop there! That's the place!"
She checked the clock on the little panel on the rear of the front seat. Six fifty-nine. She desperately hoped the store would remain open for the next sixty seconds. The car pulled to a smooth stop outside of the store, it's open sign still miraculously on.
"I'll be right back!"
She dove out the door and across the sidewalk. Just as she reached the door, the sign in the window switched off. She pulled the latch. It opened. She breathed a sigh of relief and darted inside. She barely had time to enjoy the atmosphere before she was interrupted by a voice from over her shoulder.
"Uh, ma'am, we're closed?"
She turned to the clerk at the desk by the counter.
"According to my watch, I've got at least forty-five seconds, that's all I need."
"Okay?"
She dashed away and into the store. Luckily, what she came for was mere feet from the front desk.
Rows and rows of electric guitars.
She soaked it in for a moment. Her eyes darted from rack to rack, examining in detail trimmings, switches, lacquers, headstocks, looking for something very particular. Her eyes drove right past a six thousand lien Les Paul Standard as it wasn't what she was looking for. Then she saw it, in it's cherry red glory.
"That's the one."
She marched over and pulled the guitar from its hook. With a practiced hand, she brought the instrument up level and stared down its strings, admiring the dead straight neck and floating bridge. She put her nose against the high side of the body and sniffed. It smelled fresh. Lifting her right knee, she balanced the guitar against her body and checked the action.
"Perfect."
The cherry red Gretsch G5220 would have to be the one for her. Fender didn't make any guitar that interested her anymore, and Gibsons had fallen out of fashion. And she wouldn't be caught dead playing a Taylor. Besides, she liked how this one looked. She carried it over to the cashier.
"I'll take this, please."
"You're not even going to try it?"
"I know how it plays, all Gretsch solid bodies play the same. What size strings do these come with?"
The cashier shrugged.
"I dunno, man, I play drums."
Weiss nodded sagely.
"In that case, toss me a set of Ernie Ball Extra Slinky's and Power Slinky's."
The cashier laughed.
"Do you want the case for your guitar, too?"
"Aren't you closing now?"
"Yeah, but when someone who knows what they're looking for comes in, I'll stay an extra five minutes to help them, man."
Weiss sighed and relaxed.
"Oh. Alright then. Yes, I will have the case."
Five minutes and nearly a thousand lien later, she was back in the limo, her new prize in her hands. Jaune's sister's place was just around the corner. To say she couldn't wait was an understatement. Her whole body was vibrating from excitement. Whether that was from lack of sleep or something else no longer mattered. Within moments, she would be playing guitar again. Something she hadn't done since before the war. A line of townhomes came into view out the window. This was it. The car pulled to a slow stop.
"Thank you!"
The driver nodded at her through the wide mirror as she jumped out with the guitar case. She circled to the back of the car and reached into the popped trunk and grabbed a second, slightly battered guitar case with the big gold Fender logo etched into the top. She slammed the trunk shut with her elbow and turned to the row of houses. She hurried up the sidewalk and up the steps to the front door. Setting down one of the cases, she hit the doorbell.
"Come in, it's open!"
A familiar woman's voice called out through the door, and Weiss did as instructed. She was greeted by a strong smell of pastry and baked fruit as she lugged the two cases into the front hallway of the house. From around the corner to the kitchen came Saphron, Jaune's eldest sister.
"Hey, Weiss. Jaune and the boys are in the basement. There's beer in the fridge and snacks in the big cupboard if you're hungry."
Saphron greeted her like it hadn't been but days since she had last seen her. And aside from a few errant grey hairs and evident fading of the fabric of her slippers, the woman hadn't aged more than those few days. Weiss grinned and closed the front door behind her.
"Thank you, that's very kind of you to offer."
"I also made pie, but most of it's for Adrian. He got an A on a test today."
Weiss chuffed, taking off her winter coat and hanging it on the rack by the door.
"I heard fourth grade is hard these days, you must be very proud."
Saphron leaned against the wall and rolled her eyes.
"Well, they certainly don't teach math the way they used to. There's letters in it now, Weiss!"
Weiss laughed, putting her boots in the nearby tray. Her masters degree had involved a lot of letters.
"Preposterous!"
"I know!" the woman nearly shouted, before sighing. "It's good to see you, you know. Jaune's been bouncing off the walls since yesterday."
"I bet he has. We haven't spoken in over five years. I'm excited too."
Weiss brushed invisible dirt off her college hoodie and tucked a few hairs back behind her ears. Saphron gestured to the door at the end of the hall.
"Well go on then. I want to hear music from my basement."
Weiss nodded, and picked up the guitar cases again.
"Yes, ma'am."
She sauntered her way past the woman in the hall and down the stairs. As she descended, she could hear a faint murmuring from under the house. She did her best to not creak the steps on the way down, but she needn't have worried, her knees did enough creaking for her. As she reached bottom landing, she called out.
"Jaune?"
The basement went silent. Then, from around a corner, came a flash of blond and blue eyes. And there he stood. Trimmed facial hair, shaggy mop tied back into a warrior's wolftail, and a familiar hoodie with a rabbit on the front.
"Weiss."
"Hello, Jaune."
His body relaxed into his smile.
"Oh, it's so good to see you."
He stepped forward as she set the two cases down, pulling her into a warm hug as she did the same to him. As long as it had been, his stout musculature remained, holding her tightly but comfortably.
"Thank you for inviting me."
"Anytime."
He relaxed his hold of her. She didn't let go just yet. After a beat or two, they separated. She glanced up at him with a sly grin. And then punched him in the shoulder as hard as she could.
"Ow! What the hell?"
"I'm so mad at you, Jaune."
He clutched his shoulder.
"What-why?!"
Weiss rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms.
"Five years, Jaune! You haven't called me for five years!"
Jaune took a step back.
"I'm… I'm sorry. Everything got in the way of… everything." He rubbed his shoulder and looked away. "I should have stayed in contact. With everyone."
She sighed and uncrossed her arms.
"Just come here."
She reached out and pulled him into another hug.
"I don't like being made a stranger of. But I guess I could have called you first."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Weiss shook her head and stepped out of the embrace, her hands resting on his arms.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is I missed you."
Jaune nodded.
"I missed you too, Weiss. Sorry I wasn't more social. And… sorry for dragging you away from your job."
She smiled at his sweater.
"I think I much prefer being here. So. Are we just going to stand here hugging or are you going to introduce me to your friends?"
Jaune laughed.
"I dunno, I'd be pretty content to just hug all night. S'long as you don't hit me again."
She laughed along with him.
"I don't blame you. It's been too long."
"Way too long. I dig the haircut, by the way."
Weiss chuffed and scratched the side of her head. Her once-long shining white hair had been cut short, pulled into a stubby ponytail at the base of her skull. Her messy bangs remained, and needed contestant adjustment.
"Yeah, I stopped being able to wear it so long after the war. Having it short makes my daily life easier, too. I see you haven't got a haircut."
"Hey, I look great like this."
She smiled.
"You sure do, Jaune."
"What's with the cases?"
Weiss winced.
"I needed to buy a new guitar on my way over."
Jaune frowned.
"I told you you didn't need to worry about it, I had one for you."
"No, you don't understand, Jaune, I wanted my old guitar back, and it's a little bit unplayable at the moment. So I had to buy a replacement."
"Oh, come now, it can't be that bad."
She sighed.
"How about I show you."
"Sure. This way."
He guided her through the big basement and towards a side room, making idle conversation.
"So how've you been?"
Weiss sighed. "Not the best, not the worst. I went back to school after the war ended. Got my Master's degree."
"Oh, is that right? What in?"
"Geology."
Jaune stopped and turned to face her, a confused look on his face.
"Peculiar choice."
"I've always liked rocks. Especially before, when they held magic in them. I used to have a collection of interesting rocks and stones in my bedroom from when I was a little girl. Labeled and everything, with little note cards."
"Huh. I guess we all have our interests. Good to know you were a little weird before we met, too."
Weiss nodded, eyes rolling. "Wasn't yours superhero comic books, Jaune?"
"Still is, actually. Some of my students think my desk has too many action figures on it, I think it doesn't have enough."
"Students? You're a teacher?"
Jaune nodded, stepping over an overturned laundry basket.
"History. Ninth grade."
She laughed.
"I remember you being really terrible in History class."
"I was. But it didn't mean I didn't enjoy it. C'mon, in here."
He guided her down a small hallway and to a door with a poster of Doctor Teeth and The Electric Mayhem on it.
"Nice poster, nerd."
"Thanks, I've had it for twenty years."
His smile was infectious, and she caught herself grinning right back as he opened said door. She was bombarded by funky synthesizer sounds as soon as the door cracked and the light from the room hit her face. Jaune stepped in before her and the music stopped briefly as she followed. Three faces turned to look at her as she wiggled into the tightly packed room and set down the two guitar cases. She stood upright and gave a sheepish wave. The person standing behind the synthesizer, wearing sunglasses indoors, spoke up.
"You must be the prodigy."
Weiss turned to Jaune.
"Prodigy? What did you tell them?"
He chuckled.
"I never said prodigy. I just said I knew a good guitarist. Weiss, I'd like you to meet Colour Theory. This is Moose, Fingers, and Fake Steve."
He gestured to the man with the bass, the man behind the keyboard, and the drummer in turn. Weiss put on a smile and went around the room, shaking hands. She approached the bass player first, admiring the man's impressive set of fuzzy deer-like antlers.
"Weiss Schnee, a pleasure to meet you. Moose, was it?"
The man didn't sit up on the couch, but offered his hand to shake.
"Meredith Raine, pleasure's mine."
"Meredith?"
He sat back, closing his eyes.
"Long story. My parents thought it was a unisex name."
"Okay, so why 'Moose'?"
"Longer story. Apparently 'Reindeer Boy' had too many syllables for the local bullies."
Weiss chuckled and took a step back.
"Curious to know what a short story is to you," she turned to the keyboard player. "Fingers?"
He put his hand out to shake and the reason for the nickname became suddenly apparent. The man had exceedingly long and thin fingers, which wrapped around her hands like claws. She made eye contact with herself in his mirrored sunglasses.
"Ezra Waterfall."
She shook his very pale hand. His odd fashion sense of the sunglasses and a bowtie almost made sense.
"Charmed," she turned to the last member of the band. "Fake Steve?"
The man in the faded baseball hat behind the drumset stood and eagerly shook her hand, stars in his eyes.
"Stephen Stills. But not the real one, obviously."
"Right, because you'd be like, eighty."
He nodded, still shaking her hand.
"A shame you couldn't meet Big Ed, he's a real peach, you'da liked him, guitarist like you, says Jaune anyway, I hear you're a bit of a prodigy, I can't wait to hear you play, it's an honour to meet one of Jaune's old friends, truly! Golly, the actual Weiss Schnee is here, I'm a huge fan of your singing, Miss Weiss!"
"I'm glad to have met someone who remembers I used to sing, Steve. I appreciate the praise."
"Gosh, I can't believe I get to play music for you, ma'am. Such an honour!"
He finally let go of her hand and sat back down, still smiling. Such a pure soul he was, she liked him already. Weiss grinned and turned back to Jaune, who was leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed.
"Quite a crew you have, Jaune. Big Ed have an interesting reason for his nickname too?"
Jaune shrugged.
"Ed's name's actually Tommy. Nobody knows why he's called Big Ed. He's also like, five foot five."
"Still taller than your girlfriend, Jay." Moose teased, hands behind his head.
Jaune frowned and took off one of his slippers and winged it at the faunus's head. He missed, and the slipper bounced off the man's antlers. Weiss chuckled, hand over her mouth.
"Not my girlfriend, Moose. I will beat you with your bass."
Actually, upon reflection, it had looked like Jaune had meant to hit Moose on the antlers.
"Whatever dude. Nice to meet you, Miss Weiss."
Weiss crossed her arms and smirked at the lot of them.
"Charming group of friends, Jaune."
"Yeah, assholes, the lot of them. If I hadn't known them from before Beacon and if they weren't such good musicians, I would have thrown them all in the dumpster a long time ago."
Fingers grinned wide, wider than she thought was possible.
"We love you too, Jay. Do we wanna actually play something or are you and Moose gonna make out some more?"
Jaune put his hands up.
"Guys, I told you to behave when Weiss showed up. You guys have clearly never made a good first impression in your lives."
The boys laughed at him. During the next few exchanges of pointed ribbing, Weiss took the opportunity to look around at the equipment used by the members of this rag-tag band, and she was surprised to find they seemed to be using actually quality equipment for what Jaune had called a 'crappy cover band'. Moose, the bassist, held to his chest a gold and white Rickenbacker 4001, a bass she had always admired for its true and powerful sound and curious overpass-style horseshoe pickup. Fingers stood behind an impressively wide Roland Phantom-8 synthesizer workstation, and the still-smiling Fake Steve sat behind a Tama drumkit, one she recognized as the imported STAR model. It was all good equipment.
Weiss turned to Jaune.
"Oh, c'mon dude, don't be so hard on your friends. Maybe they're just jealous that you brought a girl over?"
"Married." Moose interrupted.
"Married, two kids." Fingers continued.
"Gay. Also married." Fake Steve chirped.
Weiss shrugged.
"Alright, kill him."
Moose went to sit up.
"Well, you heard the woman."
Jaune pushed him back onto the couch as he squeezed past.
"Sit the hell back down, Meredith."
"Ouch. Low blow, Jaune."
"Don't test me. Why don't we play something before I pop a blood vessel."
Weiss laughed at their antics. Jaune just rolled his eyes as he procured a guitar from a stand behind Fingers. A good choice, if she did say so herself. She marveled at the Fender Ultra Telecaster's gorgeous black-brown sunburst color and it's mirror-shine chrome plates.
"Nice guitar, Jaune."
He grinned, fiddling with his tuner. She bent down and opened the case of her new guitar.
"Thanks. It was a birthday present from myself last year."
"It looks good. Still think you'd be better suited with an ES."
"You mean like this one?"
She looked up to see him holding a dark cherry red ES-335 by the neck. She glanced up at the headstock, seeing 'Gibson' etched in gold. She cocked her eyebrows at him.
"Well, well. Someone's grown up and followed my advice."
"Thought of you when I saw it in a second hand shop and I literally couldn't walk away from it."
She tried not to blush a little as he set the Fender back down and slung the Gibson's strap on. She stood up, lifting her guitar out of the case and putting the strap around her neck and shoulder.
"Well, you made a great choice."
"Speaking of good guitars, That's a sweet looking Gretsch hard-top you've got there."
She glanced down at the dark red glittery lacquer and fiddled with the tuning. Just as she thought, the factory-equipped strings were a little on the dead side as she strummed out a quick power chord progression.
"I used to have two of these, different model numbers though. They went down with the ship. I didn't know what kind of music we'd be playing so I figured I needed something fairly versatile."
Fingers piped up from behind the keys, his voice milky and mysterious.
"What's in the other case?"
Weiss sighed.
"A Troublemaker."
"Ooh, I finally get to see this legendary guitar," Jaune grinned, strumming softly. "Go on, then. I've waited nearly a decade to see this."
She sighed again, leveled her gaze at him, then relented. She slung the Gretsch behind her back and bent down again, messing with her cases and opened the battered old leather case that housed her pride and joy. Or at least, what was left of it.
"The night before the War started and we were banished to the Ever After, we ended up at my family manor, and I ended up with a bit of time to myself while Nora was asleep and Klein was fixing Penny. I thought I might play my guitar one last time in the dark, thinking I would never see it again, and my brother graciously offered to have it shipped to a safe location outside Argus."
Jaune nodded.
"Smart man."
"Well, sometime during the war that 'safe location' was hit with collateral damage and the shipping container my guitar was stored in got launched across the city. And, well… this is all that's left."
She stood up, holding what remained of her Telecaster. The neck was snapped at the sixteenth fret, and the saddle bolts had been pulled through the body. The strings were missing, as was the floating bridge. Crucially, the electronics seemed like they were still intact.
"Oh, come on, that's not so bad! I've seen guitars in worse shape still selling for retail prices at the second hand shop downtown. I'm sure we could get that fixed by Friday, Weiss. A neck, a truss rod, a set of strings, it'll play like new. Probably even salvage the fretboard."
She sniffled.
"You think so?"
"Weiss, there's five musicians in this room. We aren't going to let your guitar become scrap, right boys?"
Moose chirped at Jaune again.
"Sure, anything for Jaune's pretty lady."
"Moose, I swear I'll mount your antlers on my wall."
Weiss chuckled as she set the pieces of her guitar back in their case and slung the brand-new Gretsch back around to the front.
"I like your friends, Jaune."
"That makes one of us. There should be a patch chord in that amp over there."
She enjoyed the environment that had been cultivated in the basement. It felt alive, more so than any boardroom or site trailer she'd visited in recent memory. She grabbed the aforementioned patch chord and plugged in, turning up the volume and tone knobs on the brand new Gretsch. With a few test strums, and a few adjustments, she found just the right amount of crunchy tone, and played a few chords to get her hands back into position.
"Sounds good," Jaune said, still tuning. "Good choice on the colour."
Weiss grinned.
"Yeah, we match."
"I wasn't going to mention that, but yeah. Gibson's red is a little brighter, though. Alright, what do we want to play to start?"
Fake Steve nearly jumped from his drumstool.
"We could play one of Miss Weiss's songs!"
Weiss smirked.
"Most of my songs are about how much I hate my father or about how the world is ending, I don't think they fit the vibe that Jaune's trying to create."
Jaune laughed.
"She's right. As usual. How about this, I'll play something that me'n the boys know, you see if you're as good as you used to be."
"Way to put me on the spot, Jaune."
"Yeah, well… suck it up."
Jaune turned up the gain on his amp until it was suitably crunchy as well, and started to play a simple progression, starting on E, going to a barred A, up to the barred B, then back to the barred A. Weiss rolled her eyes, recognizing the song immediately as Fake Steve joined in on the drums and Fingers began the synth accompaniment. Jaune grinned into his microphone at her.
"~Stacy's mom has got it going on, Stacy's mom has got it going on,~"
Weiss laughed and played along, hitting the power chords at the end of each progression.
"~Stacy's mom has got it going on, Stacy's mom has got it going on~ Take it away, Moose."
The man sat up and leaned into his microphone, bass guitar readied.
"~Stacy can I come over in my ca-a-a-ar? In my car?~"
Jaune and Fake Steve sang the backup. Weiss frowned.
"~We can change the oil, or hang out in the gara-a-a-age. Menage a garage~"
Weiss furrowed her brow at Jaune, who simply smiled back.
"Wait a second, that's not–"
"~Did your dad get back from the hardware store? Hardware store?~"
Weiss kept playing, a very confused look twisting on her face.
"Dad?"
"~Is he there, or is he reading about the great wa-a-ar? The great war~"
"What the hell are these lyric–"
Her hands moved on their own to the G minor and played out the rhythm.
"~Now I know that you think it's just a fantasy! But since your mom came out your dad could use a guy like me!~"
"What the fu–"
Her and Jaune hit the hard A major together. It was as if they had never stopped playing together. Moose sang his lungs out, slamming on his bass as he did.
"~Stacy's dad! Has got me down bad! He's all I want and I think he's a real Chad!~"
Weiss laughed out loud, finally understanding the relevance of the previous lyrics. She decided it was best to just roll with it and played the lead under Jaune's rhythm.
"~Stacy it's not you! I'm just kinda into dudes! I know it might be bad but I'm in love with Stacy's dad!~"
They played through the chord progression of the chorus again, and Weiss let her guitar sing, hammering out a thick and meaty lead. She wasn't expecting the factory strings to sound as good as they did, but truth be told she was enjoying how full the solid body and thin neck were sounding through the provided VOX amplifier. She would almost argue that it played like a much more expensive guitar than it was. It still needed the new strings in her opinion, but she was still impressed. They changed keys for the outro, and she pulled up her lead along with the boys.
"~Stacy's dad! Oh-oh oh-oh I'm in love with! Stacy's dad! Oh-oh oh-oh wait a minute!~"
In the few minutes she'd been playing, she had already started to get excited for the show. This might actually be fun.
"~Stacy can't you see? It's Mister Stacy's mom for me! I know it might be bad but I'm in love with Stacy's dad.~"
They all finished on the beat before, letting Moose's voice be the conclusion. Weiss laughed as soon as the music finished.
"That was so stupid, guys."
Moose put his bass aside and grinned at her.
"Stupid or not, Jaune was right, you're a great guitarist. Maybe even better than Big Ed. You play professionally or something?"
Weiss shrugged.
"I haven't played in a while. I used to play guitar for the recordings when I was a singer."
"Damn, how long is a while, girl?"
She winced, looking at Jaune.
"How long has it been since Mantle?"
Jaune glared at her, standing steadfast.
'You haven't played since Mantle?!"
"I haven't had time?"
"It's been almost ten years?! Imagine how good you'd be if you practiced!"
She balked
"I've had other things to do! Like a war! And being trapped in a timeless soul prison! And then rebuilding a planet after a war!"
Jaune just sighed.
"Yeah I guess you're right. I mean, me and the boys have had time to do all those things, have careers, and play music, so you must be slacking off somehow."
"You can come do my job, Jaune. See how you like working sixteen hours a day measuring rocks."
He laughed.
"I'm just ribbing you, Weiss. Though I was this close to calling you Snow Angel for not practicing."
Her eyes went wide.
"I'll kill you, Jaune."
He laughed harder.
"I'm glad you haven't changed too much, Weiss. It's good to have you back."
She sighed deeply and let the temporary rage leave her body, before laughing herself.
"You're insufferable. But you're a good friend, so you're forgiven this time." she glanced around the room. "You guys let him get away with this?"
Moose nodded.
"That's our job."
Weiss rubbed her temple.
"Let's just go through the setlist."
Jaune chuckled.
"Alright, let's. Want us to add something so you can sing too?"
She pondered for a moment.
"Won't that be too much trouble for you guys to learn?"
"Weiss, these guys are great musicians. They've, you know, been practicing for the last ten years. Although something simple would make it easier for all of us."
She shrugged.
"Alright, sure. I've got a few ideas that anyone should know. How many people are we expecting to come to this show?"
Jaune scoffed.
"Oh, jeez, no more than like twenty. We're playing at a bar. It's just gonna be our families and maybe whoever is already there to drink."
She felt a weight lift from her shoulders.
"Okay, whew. I haven't been in front of an audience since before the war. A nice small venue will be a nice relaxing experience."
Moose put his feet up on the couch, smirking.
"Should still be fun, though."
She grinned, strumming her guitar a few times.
"I certainly hope so."