Yo!

Just wanted to say thank you for all the people who read and reviewed the first chapter. It means a lot, especially the reviews, so if you'd be so kind as to leave one if you're enjoying the story, I'd very much appreciate it!

Also wanted to say that this story will not be taking into account RWBY's recently released Volume 9 epilogue, because I'd already done most of the planning for this long before its release.


Start Chapter 2


Jaune doesn't think he's ever experienced a silence quite as loud as that which he is currently trapped within.

Winter Schnee is sat in front of him on a rickety chair on the opposite end of the coffee table he and Willow had eaten sandwiches atop the previous night. Jaune is sat on the couch, doing his best not to make eye-contact, or really just exist in general.

He thinks that maybe if the Ever After could just swallow him up again, that would be nice?

The universe, as per usual, entirely ignores his pleas.

"So." Winter clears her throat, and then, seemingly just for good measure, clears her throat a second time. "What… exactly happened?"

Jaune swallows nervously, but gives as honest a recount as he can from his own perspective of the last two days. Willow is, somehow, still asleep, and perhaps that's a good thing, given that he doesn't think he really wants to be present when she and Winter… talk about this.

Unfortunately, that also means he's facing Winter Schnee's rather infamous sheer-cold stare alone.

"So… you ran into my mother at a bar whilst she was drinking herself into a stupor, you intervened solely in an effort to do the right thing, if you are to be believed," Jaune winces, but given the current landscape, he can't really… protest Winter's suspicions. "Afterwards the two of you got to talking, became fast friends, and then parted. You both returned last night, drank far too much, my mother invited you back up here, and the two of you…" Winter's scowl deepens. "Copulated."

Jaune coughs, wondering if maybe Winter might just kill him now, instead of dragging this out. "That… sounds correct, yeah."

Winter's face is… tense feels like an understatement. She more so looks like one of those porcelain dolls that one might see in a mid-tier horror flick that's slowly cracking and growing more and more creepy? Jaune's not really sure how great of an analogy that is, but he hopes he's gotten the point across.

…That had been a rather roundabout way of saying that Winter looks like she is only just holding herself together, and Jaune gets the feeling that if he doesn't get himself out of here sooner rather than later, he is going to be literally fighting for his life, instead of figuratively.

"I…" Winter swallows, her throat visibly distending. "You… Okay."

In any other circumstance, Jaune might ask what the hell that's supposed to mean. But given that he'd just slept with Winter's mother, and that he's still alive, he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak.

Added onto that is the fact that his body, head, and really just everything in general are still aching from both the aftermath of his and Willow's horizontal tangoing, and the hangover that he's dealing with for the first time in his life.

"…I have nothing more to say to you." Winter says after a few seconds spent silent. "I would ask that you leave. I… there is…" Winter seems at a total loss as to what she can possibly say in this scenario. Jaune understands. He's in much the same boat. "…I would ask that you not associate with my mother anymore. She has been through enough, and is already struggling with her addiction. She does not need some… man swaying her for nothing more than her body."

…Wow. Jaune's actually surprised that Winter hasn't killed him if she thinks he's some hustler bedding Willow because she's hot. That… well, admittedly, that had been what sealed the deal the previous night, the fact that Willow had been gorgeous, and he'd been drunk and technically in the body of a teenaged boy, which meant he had been, and would likely always be until his hormones learned to chill the hell out, down to clown – that's a rather terrible turn of phrase, but Jaune feels it's apt enough at describing said happenings.

So, even if he really should just… leave, not complicate the situation more, walk out and allow Winter Schnee to spare his life… he kind of can't do that?

Because he actually does want to speak with Willow again. What she'd said the previous night… it's hazy, but there's still something that sticks out to him among all of it, something he'd been too out of it to respond to as himself.

"My life has been… it feels like for the last two decades, every day of my life has been the exact same."

He needs to hear the meaning of those words, Jaune thinks. He needs to understand where it is Willow is coming from, what it is she feels in her heart of hearts. He wants to know… for lack of a better way to say it, what it is that makes Willow tick.

How to word that to her daughter who is only just barely not killing him, however?

That… is a damned good question. One which Jaune is beginning to suspect he doesn't have an answer to.

He thinks. Ponders. Considers. A few other synonyms of the word 'thinks.' And in the end, his brain supplies him with the perfect thing to say.

"Well… I actually really like Willow?"

Nice going, brain, Jaune lambasts himself. You've doomed us all.

Winter's face, at his words, just sort of… twitches. It, again, reminds him of something he might see in a horror movie, only this time, the fear is both very present, and very real.

"Jaune Arc?" Winter speaks, and her voice seems to lower the temperature in the room by several degrees.

"…Yeah?"

"Leave."

"Right, sorry, understood."

/

Jaune knows very little about the general affairs of life.

This is mostly because he'd been a kid for sixteen years of his life – aka he'd had no idea what he'd been doing at all – and then he'd gone and attended a school teaching its students to kill giant monsters, which had then been attacked and destroyed by giant monsters.

Oxymoronic, really.

There'd been some people involved, too – oh hey, yeah, Cinder Fall is a person. He'd actually managed to forget about her. What a wondrous thing his life had been before he'd remembered she existed – but that's just semantics, really.

All of this is to say that Jaune knows very few things. Period. He's pretty clueless in general.

So, he does what most clueless people do when they run into a problem they can't exactly solve.

He enlists help.

The ultimate problem with this idea, and the thing that will ultimately lead to his undoing, is the fact that there exists no one among their group of friends who he could truly go to for assistance. Not and actually receive advice that might help.

He could go to Ruby or Yang, if he wanted the truth to be immediately blabbed to Weiss, and then be summarily executed. He could go to Blake if he wanted the truth to be eventually blabbed to Yang, to then be immediately blabbed to Weiss, resulting in, you guessed it, summary execution.

He could probably go to Ren or Nora, that might work. The problem with that is that neither of those two have any idea what to do about complicated feelings for someone.

Oh, they've experienced them, but Jaune's current plan of action isn't to 'pretend that I don't have feelings for my childhood friend who I've been with for over half my life who I have an inseparable bond with even though literally everyone around me can tell that I have such feelings'.

Mostly because that's a terrible plan.

Jaune loves Ren and Nora, even now, nearly two decades from having really interacted with either of them, he loves them. But by everything, those two can be a bit dense towards each other's feelings.

…Jaune feels a chill, like a specter from beyond the grave is cursing his name. Huh. Odd.

Probably nothing, though.

Anyways, all of this is to say that Jaune Arc had gone to who he'd assumed would be the best source of information about accidentally sleeping with one's friend's mother.

The problem with this is that he's now stood in Qrow Branwen's doorway, scowling, as the man tries valiantly to stop himself from breaking down in a horrid fit of laughter.

"It's really not funny." He reiterates, and that only causes Qrow to laugh harder.

"I just…" Qrow coughs, a tear streaking down his cheek. "I never thought this could happen, y'know? I mean," he snickers, but restrains himself enough to get out a few more words, "First Rubes and Firecracker show up alright, and now you're fuckin' the ice queen's mom? Aw, man! It only took goin' on half a fuckin' lifetime of pain, but finally the universe is coming through for me!"

Jaune feels the scowl on his face should really be putting in more work for him, and yet, every time Qrow gathers himself for a moment, and looks up at Jaune's expression, he collapses back into manic fits.

Jaune's getting tired of it.

"Can you… be of any help, please?"

"Oh, fuck," Qrow whistles. "Whew. Okay. I think I'm good."

He looks at Jaune's face again, snorts, but ultimately manages to keep himself contained.

"Alright, well, come in, first of all. Even if it would be the funniest shit in the world for the whole of Vacuo to know about this, I get the feeling that's not what you want?"

"Geez, Qrow, how'd you guess."

"Call it a Huntsman's intuition." Qrow smarms, inviting him into his apartment.

Unlike Willow's place, this definitely isn't one of the more upscale places that the refugees could be staying in. Qrow, being a huntsman, must've been offered a place at Shade, but then, it's possible he wanted a chance to operate out of the city itself, and a location from which to take on his corvid form and sail the skies from.

The giant Ziggurat made of stone from thousands of years ago is cool, but rather obviously, the rooms do not come with windows.

"Alright, so, first of all, juicy details, I have to know–"

"I'm not giving you private details about Willow."

"What are you kidding? I don't give a shit about that," Qrow leans forward. "I meant Winter! What was her face like when she found you! You said she caught you naked in bed with her mom, yeah? Shit, I wish I coulda' been there to see her expression! Aw–"

"Can you focus, please!?" Jaune grits out between his teeth, a bit more upset than he'd thought he'd be about all of this.

"Right, right," Qrow ran a hand down his face, seemingly trying to iron out the smile that's permanently glued to it. "Although I'm not really sure what you're doing here."

"I slept with Weiss' mom!"

"Well, no shit, but did you really figure that I was the best person to seek out for advice on this?" Qrow raised an eyebrow at him challengingly.

"…Yes?"

The man sighed, but nodded his head. "Okay, admittedly, you're probably right. I have had to run away from angry mom's, dad's, daughter's, son's… really just a lot of people in my life. Comes with the semblance, and the smokin' looks." Qrow shoots him a playful eyebrow, but Jaune just rolls his eyes. "But… I mean, once you get away, it's over, that's it. As long as you didn't fall in love with the woman, you're fine, yeah? I doubt Winter's going to go spilling what happened to Weiss-cream, so just go along pretending like nothing happened."

Jaune is silent, then, and it must say far more than any words ever could, because the humor quickly fades from Qrow's face, and is replaced by a weary look.

"Kid…"

"W-What?"

"…Kid, please say you didn't fall in love with the woman."

"I-It's not love," Jaune reassures him. "It's more that I'm interested in–"

"Okay, I now see the problem." Qrow rolls his eyes. "You actually want to pursue this as a serious relationship, don't you?"

That… admittedly, yes, that does sum up Jaune's current retinue of problems fairly well.

"Okay…" Qrow seemingly sobers up a bit from his intoxication-via-laughter. "Well, I'll attempt to keep things serious, since you actually have feelings invested in this."

"That would be appreciated."

"First off; why?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, what draws you to Willow Schnee, of all people? Most people would start at the endless riches and end there. I'm taking it that's not the case for you?"

"It's…" Jaune debates on how to word it. "It's more that I feel the two of us are in rather similar positions in our lives at the moment. She said something last night… that she felt like the last two decades of her life had been the exact same. I don't know, it resonated with me."

"Oh, shit, right. Forgot about the Rusted Knight thing." Qrow gives off a weighty breath. "And that's fuckin' weird, by the way. You're the character Summer used to read to Ruby and Yang about?"

"Yeah, I'd really rather not think about all the timey-wimey… stuff involved there right now." Jaune admits, and Qrow grunts, but ultimately seems to agree. "Regardless, what I'm trying to say is that it also felt like the last two decades of my life were pretty much the same."

"Yeah, I heard some of the details from Rubes. She uh… made it seem like you had maybe gone a bit stir crazy in there."

"I might have gone a bit crazy in general," Jaune admits, rubbing at his temples and sighing. "But we're getting off topic. Willow's also a very nice woman; very passionate behind the veneer she puts up. I liked talking to her, and I'd like to do so again."

"I getcha'." Qrow nods, "In that case, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you should go for it. Ignore Winter's warnings, and do just that; talk to her again. If she wants to as well, then damn what the ice queen thinks."

"Yeah…" Jaune mutters, even though the idea is something that scares him half to death. "That… you're right. I didn't get her number, but… I'll drop by the bar tonight, see if she's there."

"Good. If there's one thing this whole affair in Atlas has taught me, it's to not take anything for granted." Qrow speaks, but it's a hefty thing. "Be true to yourself, say what you mean, and tell those you love that you love them. You never know how long you might have, especially with Salem on the horizon."

Jaune nods his head, and that, it seems, is that.

Of course, Qrow's lips bend into a smirk a moment later, and Jaune sighs internally at what is surely to be something inanely stupid.

"But uh… if Winter catches you again, do me a favor and record it, yeah?"

"No."

"I'll pay you!"

"Still no."

/

Willow Schnee will admit that the last few months of her life have been some of the most… demanding that she's gone through.

What with Jacques rigging an Atlesian election with the help of someone affiliated with the dread queen of the Grimm, Winter backing the clearly-losing-it General Ironwood for a good deal of his rule, and then the subsequent fall of Atlas itself, resulting in the deaths of tens of thousands, including Jacques himself.

That last part is, admittedly, not weighing on Willow quite as much, but she digresses.

At the time of course, she'd also thought Weiss dead, lost to them, alongside her entire team, and some boy that the others escorting them had been broken up about as well.

But all of that, all of what had happened in Atlas, had been mere staging, mere groundwork, for the life she's now begun to have to live here in Vacuo.

It's not terrible, of course. Sure, she's secluded in a condo that is, at most, a hundredth the size of the Schnee manor, and sure, she's had to begin to teach herself how to cook some of the meals that the servants used to make for her, and sure, she has perhaps been at the bottom of the bottle a bit more often than she should've been, given she'd been trying to quit, but…

Okay, perhaps things are terrible, for a variety of reasons.

In the last month, however, things had been looking up. Weiss had returned to them, first and foremost, alongside her entire team. As much as she'd have liked to say she cared about any of the stragglers, Willow hadn't, truly. Her daughter had come back. She wouldn't have cared had she been the sole survivor.

And despite her alcoholism beginning to consume her once more, her and her family had been taking steps towards rectifying that. She'd begun to see an alcohol counselor – the best in Vacuo's capital, of course – and had been making great strides in gradually kicking her addiction.

She'd just… slipped up, somewhat, within the past week or so.

It… she'd not meant to. But, well, of course she hadn't. Such things are rarely conscious decisions. She's aware of that, aware of how insidious a thing addiction can be, and yet it doesn't truly absolve her of the fact that she'd gone to a bar, gotten entirely too inebriated, and come back to find that Whitley had decided to pop by for a surprise visit.

He'd told the others immediately, and Willow's mistake had been something the others now held against her.

She can't blame them. Not when she's the only one who's done wrong. All they're doing is expressing their disappointment with their mother, with the fact that she has yet again proven to be unworthy of their forgiveness, of their understanding.

And of course, that feeling of self-lamentation had resulted in only one thing; a need for an escape. What had presented such a perfect escape but the alcohol she'd been trying to get away from?

She'd gone to that quiet bar she'd been sure no one would find her at, and she'd drank the night away.

And then she'd met him.

It sounds too weighty to put it like that, for in truth, she had not reacted terribly positively to the man's first appearance. A young, gangly, awkward teenager, she'd thought, come to hit on a broken old woman.

And yet… the only thing he'd truly shown had been worry.

He'd asked her about what had happened. Genuinely questioned her on the details of her family, and done so gently, without prying. He'd supported her when she'd tried to deprecate herself, and even complimented her multiple times in a way that hadn't felt like he'd been attempting to woo her in any way.

And the hours had gone by so quickly, speaking with John. So very quickly indeed.

She'd managed to find herself, for the first time in a long time, speaking genuinely with another human being. How long had it been, she wondered, since she'd done so with someone who had not been a member of her own family?

If one doesn't count the brief interactions she'd had with Weiss' team during their time in the manor some few months ago, then… it had to have been years. Perhaps decades.

How grim a thought.

So… she'd become somewhat attached to John in a short period. She chocked that up to both the alcohol, and the need for companionship that inhabited all human beings. She'd had nary any at all, and had suddenly found herself a rather perfect fit.

It hadn't hurt, of course, that the boy – man, she has to keep reminding herself, for he'd told her he'd been older than he'd looked – had been young, fit, and attractive in a youthful sort of way, of course.

So yes, sue her, Willow Schnee had, for the first time in nearly half her life, decided to live a little.

She'd… she won't quite say that she'd planned the night out, because that makes it sound as if she had gone to some great effort, but she'd certainly put on something a bit nicer than she had the previous night, and she'd applied perfume, and done her make-up, and a bunch of other things that she's almost positive that John hadn't noticed.

She's almost annoyed she finds his seeming density endearing, but she does.

And so, one thing had led to another. Willow had been… she would not say content, but expecting for things to end there. She and John would speak amicably in the morning, Willow would inform him that she had too many things in her life right now for a proper relationship, but that she'd enjoyed herself greatly, and they would break things off.

It had been oh so simple a plan.

Of course, then she'd slept in until well past noon, apparently snored while John had tried to warn her that Winter, her daughter, had entered her apartment to check on her, and been caught red-handed literally in bed with the man.

So, does Willow understand why she's currently sat opposite Winter inside of her rather tiny kitchenette? Yes. Yes, she does.

Does she want to be there?

No. No she does not.

"I heard the story from Jaune." Her daughter says, and internally, Willow frowns, but resolves to correct Winter later on the proper pronunciation. "That you and he…"

"Yes." She says, for lack of quite literally anything else to say.

"Well… I…" Winter sighs, and as she does, she reaches up, and runs a hand down her face. "I don't really… I assume Arc is who you were speaking about the other night, when you said you had spoken with a man?"

"He is." Willow confirms, and mentally, she adds the last name 'Arc' to the file filled with information on John. 'John Arc', huh? It sort of does roll of the tongue, now that Willow thinks about it.

"And are you… dating?"

It's a rather sudden question, but then, Winter has never been the type to beat around the bush, not even in such difficult scenarios.

The answer is easily given, and not one that Willow hesitates on.

"No. I… I have to focus on myself first and foremost, before I can go worrying about anyone else."

Winter seems to study her face for a moment, as if deciding whether or not to believe her. Some part of her is almost angered that her daughter would doubt her so, but then…

She thinks of Winter's childhood, during which time she'd been raised almost exclusively by the butlers and maids of the manor, while Willow had spent nearly every day drinking to wash away her sorrows.

Perhaps she's earned such scorn, then.

"I am happy to hear that." Winter sighs out, clearly relieved. "While I'm sure Arc is a noble person, I do agree that you should be devoting the majority of your time to making sure you're able to kick this addiction, and getting yourself up on your feet."

She agrees, she really does. Despite the fact that she finds herself interested in the man, she can't see a serious affair working out between them.

So… She'll just have to speak with him again. Tell him face to face, in an honest conversation.

That their brief tryst can't continue.

Still, there is one thing she has to say first.

"Oh, by the way," She clears her throat. "His name is John, not Jaune."

Winter's eyes narrow. "No… his name is Jaune Arc. He is a licensed Huntsman who my sister and her team have worked alongside for quite some time."

"You… but he told me his name was John."

"And you are certain you did not simply mishear him?"

"Well, that…"

Winter sighs.

/

Willow goes to that same bar again that night, mostly because she hadn't remembered to get John's – or Jaune's, apparently – number the previous night, a fairly major oversight that she won't truly have to live to regret, given that she finds Jaune already sat at the bar.

She breathes a silent sigh of relief, and makes her way over. She sits down, and when the bartender goes to ask her if she wants anything, she waves him away.

She's here precisely to prevent herself from making any more mistakes, not to walk right into more of them.

"Willow," Jaune smiles at her, "It's good to see you. I was honestly wondering if coming here was going to be the right move."

"Ah, well, I figured you might be here."

Jaune nods, seemingly having a lot on his mind.

"There are a few things I'd like to discuss with you." Willow says as she clears her throat, wanting to take the initiative here. "First off, I wanted to say that I had a wonderful time last evening, despite the… interesting turn of events that occurred this morning."

"As did I. And no hard feelings towards Winter, of course. I know she was probably just concerned."

She had been, but even so, she could've been slightly more… tactful of the situation. That way, Willow would've been able to cut off any potential confusion when they had woken up, instead of letting these unknown emotions fester for the remainder of the day.

"Yes. I take it you know both of my daughters rather well?"

"Yeah, definitely. Weiss more than Winter, given we went to Beacon together, but I worked alongside Winter on a couple of occasions during our time in Atlas."

"You say you went to Beacon together…" Willow is doing mental calculations, trying to rectify Jaune's own words, that he's older than he seems, alongside the fact that he is her daughter's age. "That means you can't be any older than twenty years old, no?"

Oh gods, she'd bedded a friend of her daughters. Not even her older daughters, but Weiss' friend. The man is less than half her age – she's forty-four!

"It's… more complicated than that. I could explain, if you'd like?"

"How so?"

"Well…"

The story that Jaune weaves over the course of the next fifteen minutes is almost too much to be believed. Had she not seen a Grimm that could speak mere months ago, watched Atlas be completely decimated by the semi-mythical figure of Salem, and then taken a literal portal thanks to the magic of some genie that had come from out of a staff, she might've been a bit less willing to trust his story.

She's seen all of it, however, and what's more, she knows her own daughter had been to that place she'd called the 'Ever After' that Jaune has just described; Weiss has spoken with her about her own experiences in that strange, almost mystical world.

So, she knows, at least, that some of his story is the truth. The idea that he is a thirty-eight-year-old man who just so happens to have been reverted in time back to his nineteen-year-old self is…

Well, it at least eases her mind a tad. She had, after all, been the one to pursue such action with him, and the fact that he'd told her he'd been older than he'd looked had helped to make that decision.

"I see." Willow speaks after he's finished telling the tale. "It's quite the story, indeed. I'm sorry to hear that happened to you."

"Yeah," Jaune scratches at his cheek a tad awkwardly. "It uh… it wasn't fun, that's for sure. Honestly, you said something the other night that really resonated with me. I don't remember the exact words, but… it was something like 'It feels like every day of my life has been the exact same for two decades', and… well, I think we have that in common, you and I."

It's almost awkward to admit that she doesn't remember saying such a thing. She doesn't think she would've uttered such a truth, had she been sober. To admit to such weakness, to almost confess aloud that she'd hated her time with Jacques, and had only stayed out of… what, a sunk cost fallacy? Because she'd been with him so long, she might as well stick it out?

It sounds asinine to her now, and yet it's the truth, isn't it?

Hearing that he'd resonated with her words, though, does make her feel the smallest bit better. It lets her feel like their coupling hadn't been for nothing, even if she intends to cut it off here and now. It's best for the both of them, after all. Given his bodies reversion to that of a nineteen-year-old, he's likely still got his whole life ahead of him.

He doesn't need to be dragged down by the problems of a woman who's lived a full lifetime more than that.

So, she clears her throat, prepares herself to perhaps have to have a less positive conversation, and speaks, "Jaune–"

"Actually, it's part of the reason why I wanted to see you again, tonight." Jaune says over her, seemingly not having heard her begin. Even if letting him speak is perhaps unwise, she is oddly unwilling to cut him off. "I felt… I don't really know how to say it; a kinship with you."

That… that's probably not good, in the grand scheme of things. Again, Jaune will be better off without her, and she needs to focus on herself right now.

So why doesn't she speak up? Why doesn't she interrupt him?

She's not quite sure herself.

"So, I had a thought. Actually, I guess I had the thought this morning, really. I was thinking… why don't we try going out sometime here in the near future?"

It's pretty much the exact opposite of what she wants to hear. A proposal to spend more time together is at odds with just about everything that Willow has been trying to steer this conversation towards.

"It doesn't have to be anything much, of course. I'm not sure if that's alright with you, though, since I know you're probably used to the big and the fancy, but uh… I'd love to walk with you through the stalls in the market, perhaps? And then maybe go get something to eat at one of the local sit-down joints? Nothing too crazy. Of course, you can't really go wrong with a movie, either, or a trip down to the beach."

That… all of that…

Willow knows, technically, about all of them. She has gone to markets, and walked through them alongside her husband. Silent affairs, always. She has been to restaurants, and sat down and eaten. Only the most illustrious, and almost always bought out for the night. She has seen movies in the theatre. But only exclusive premiers, and only as promotional stunts. She has gone to beaches in Vacuo. She had even had her entire family with her. Just a business trip, one of many Jacques had taken to meet up with potential clients.

It brings her back to that same thought; that the last two decades of her life have been spent doing the same thing, day in and day out. It almost feels as if she has been absent all of that time. As if she hasn't really been alive.

…She has a life to reforge. She has a family to rekindle relationships with. She has so much she needs to do. Adding something else on top of it can only cause trouble.

Right?

"So… would you like to go someplace with me, anywhere you'd like, this weekend?" Jaune asks outright, turning towards her with a hopeful little smile.

'Say no,' Willow's mind provides for her yet again. 'You don't have the time, the energy, or the life to support a relationship right now. Not even a more casual one. It's better to nip this feeling in the bud now than to wait for it to blossom into something far more painful later.'

It makes sense. It really does.

"I think that I…" Willow focuses in on the dryness at the back of her throat. She feels as if she's standing before a precipice, looking out over a seemingly endless drop.

'Don't do something stupid.' Her mind tells her again.

But maybe… maybe there's a time and a place to forgo one's mind, and instead…

"I think that maybe…" Willow swallows.

"That maybe I'd love that."

The smile on Jaune's face, she thinks, might be able to eclipse the very sun.

And though her mind laments…

Her heart, for once, does not.


End Chapter 2


Not a ton to say here, but I did want to ask you guys something.

Some of the character stories will be coming later, and are set in stone in terms of timing, but for the others, I actually would be willing to hear which of them you'd like first. So, go ahead and vote on;

Jaune interacting with 1. Ren and Nora, or 2. Yang and Blake. These scenes will all be happening regardless, but which one is first is decided by you!

Nothing else to say, hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you... within the next two weeks? Yeah, that sounds right.