Reaching the second floor, Weiss headed towards the history reference section.
Flipping through Fashion of Aristocrats, "Weiss! Weiss!" brought her attention onto the fast stepping Jaune with his guitar heading towards her.
"Great!" sighed Weiss rolling her eyes.
"Weiss, I wrote you a song," replied the smiling Jaune tuning his guitar, "for you."
"Really," backing him towards the stairs, "bard of bloody ears, breaker of glass hearts."
"Weiss…" bouncing off the steps.
Boing. "Ow!" Thud. Boing. "Ow!" Thud.
Walking past Jaune, Weiss saw Yang face planted on the floor.
Looking at Yang then Jaune, "Must be the chemicals," she thought.
"Is there reason," asked Weiss, "why your sister is planting her face into the floor?"
"She's having a moment of a sugar rushism," remarked Ruby.
"Sugar rushism?"
"It's like alcoholism."
Handing up her hands, "I'm leaving."
Getting up, "I'm getting to the second stanza," said Jaune chasing after Weiss while strumming his guitar.
It took seven hours for Sawyer, Finn, and Mowbray to dig the grave and carry up some chairs. It could've been quicker if they hadn't drunk that case of beer. Sawyer wanted to watch them put him into his grave, but Finn didn't own a suit besides when Calchas gets to the part about dissolving in black blood of Hell. It spooks Sawyer.
Sitting in his truck, Sawyer watched robots used as pallbearers pushed Thersites Sisera's coffin. Calchas, the holy healer, followed the pallbearers. There was Councilmember Locke Thurman. When this done, they need to go to work and mow the grass.
Well, listen to that pretty rendition of Military Taps. In war, they always hide 'n play a song like that. He hoped Sisera rested in peace. The trouble was the fellow owed him forty lien.
Listening to the somber dirges and hymns of the band, Locke remembers the screams of dying faunus.
"Death before dishonor," brought Locke's attention onto Ironwood.
"Honor is the only thing they have left."
"No burial honor for cowards."
"People forget cowards, sir."
Staring at the Cathedral of Chartres, "This has been standing here for centuries. The premier work of man, perhaps, in all of Remnant. But, it's without - signature. Chartres. A celebration to Gods' glory and to dignity of man. All that's left, most artists seem to feel these days is - man. Naked. Poor. Forked. Ravaged. There aren't any celebrations."
"People don't understand contrast and context."
"They believe what they read or heard. Then get mad when the realization they got conned. Screw ups in a failed world. Ours, the scientists keep telling us, is a universe which is disposable. You know, it might be just this one anonymous glory, of all things, this rich stone forest, this epic chant, this gayety, this grand choiring shout of affirmation, which we choose, when all our cities are dust, to stand intact. To mark were we've been. To testify to what we had on a list to accomplish."
"Philosophical, sir?"
"Our works in stone, in paint, in print, are spared, some of them, for a few decades or a millennium or two, but everything must finally fall in war, or wear away into the ultimate and universal ash - the triumphs, the frauds, the treasures and the fakes. A fact of life: we're going to die."
"Something one doesn't think about."
"Be of good heart,' cry the dead artists out of the living past. 'Our songs will all be silenced, but what of it? Go on singing.' Maybe a man's name doesn't matter all that much."
"Seemed the right thing to do," remarked Ironwood.
"It is easy for to think they are doing right when it is wrong," replied Locke, "like rebreeding program for faunus."
"Sir that was a dark moment. It wasn't repeated."
"Ironwood, only an ignorant thinks history can't be repeated. Wisdom in knowing we are living in a failed world allows us to move on after letting go."
"You're determined to keep the council at four."
"Until my death or regular election cycle."
Pushing Yang towards the poolside with help of a hand truck, Ruby dumped her into the pool.
Quickly raising her head from under water, "Ruby, are you trying to drown me?" asked Yang climbing from the pool.
"Yang, was I post leave you face planted on the floor?"
"What's that hand truck doing here?"
"I used it to bring you here," watching Yang throw the hand truck into the pool, "Yang, it's a rental."
"So?"
"It's in your name."
"Why is it in my name?"
"You're the only one old enough to sign for it."
"My sister betrayed and used me," staring at submerged hand truck, "Can I get a refund?"
"Yes."
Driving into the pool, Yang pulled the hand truck out. Pushing it out, Yang climbed out.
Gripping the handle, "Now, I'll collect my deposit," said Yang walking away.
"Yang, that's my desposit!" droopy her shoulders, "She never listens."
Noticing an empty lawn chair beside Velvet, Ruby put on her sunglasses. Lying down, relax by poolside.
Unable to relax, "Stop," taking off her sunglasses, "What's that sound?" asked Ruby, "Did you hear something?"
"Properly," remarked Velvet, "I hear everything," sipping her carrot juice, "All the time."
"I'm getting the creeps. It's like those horror stories where a big guy, bigger then Ying, creeps up behind someone before," clutching her neck, "I frighten myself."
Watching Ruby run off, "You can't escape me, Ruby Rose!"
Stopping, she stared at the chuckling Velvet.
"Sorry for interrupting your moment, Jaune just got sealed up in ice."