A/N: Writing a grandfatherly chapter like this actually brought my own, dearly departed grandpa to mind.
He was a quirky bugger. I miss him T_T
May he rest in peace.
In any case, we've got an Atlas-heavy chapter here and its a doozy~!
*coughs*
Still having trouble breathing but I'm trying to push through.
With my fifteen year anniversary on this site finally here, I find myself reflecting on the little things in life. What was once a lazy pastime meant for me and a few friends really grew and evolved over time. There are days when I look back on the last fifteen years here and I wonder if anyone will remember me; if I made an impact, despite never making a single cent on any of these stories. Some days were happier than others, and some stories I enjoyed writing WAY too much; to the point where I'd stay up all night working on them.
And of course, there are times when I look to the future ahead and wonder what will become of things when I'm gone.
Of course, I try not to dwell on the latter overmuch lest it poison my mind; I'm still alive and still writing. In an ideal world, I'd like to keep doing so for as long as I can. But old age is catching up to me and these days, the world is filled with so much madness and death. Feels like everyone's lost their minds. Even before that, so many friends and fellow writers I once knew are gone, now. Will I still be here in twenty years? Ten? Five? Its a chilling thought. But for now, I'm still here, still writing.
No questions this time around. There's work to be done~!
Alright, I think I've kept you waiting long enough. As ever, Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story in the future.
In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!
We've got the timeskip coming soon, but not quite yet. And now see just how terrifying the descendants of Naruto -Nicholas!- can truly be in their own right...
Of course, that said, I don't think you're properly prepared to meet the Schnee family...
Little!Weiss and Little!Winter are adorable in this, to say nothing of Whitley...
Minor verbatim from Ice Queendom once more~!
"My dear, its not just Death that you need fear...
...but those who share His blood. Oh, yes.
BEWARE THE BLOOD."
~?
A Reaper's Legacy
Mediation was key.
Willow found peace in it these days; it brought her some small semblance-ha!-of comfort between her daily duties. As a mother of three children it did much to keep her sane. It was a time when she could simply close her eyes, shut down and let her mind wander in the dark. She sat down, folded her legs beneath her, and exhaled softly. Let the world and her room fall away.
Power. Poise. Perfection.
Such was what it meant to be a Schnee; inheritors of a bloodline dating back to a time when the people of Remnant were not four kingdoms, but endless warring peoples. Willow took pride in that. And why shouldn't she? Her father was Death. And she didn't mean it metaphorically or rhetorically or poetically or theoretically or in any other fancy way. He was Death. Straight up.
And she was his daughter.
She had a right to be bloody proud, damnit!
For you see, Willow wasn't a huntress or even a shinobi, unlike some of his descendants.
No, she was more than that. Every Schnee was. Just as their "semblance" allowed them to pull life from death and summon those they'd slain to aid them in battle, so too were they more than most. They were Reapers. Death was their duty, life their namesake, and no one knew.
Truly it was a thankless duty, a terrible task, but someone had to keep the balance.
Perhaps once upon a time, long ago, Father might've been human. Before he took up his Great Task and became something...more. Willow didn't know the when or why and certainly not the how, but frankly she didn't care. She had no memories of her mother -which suggested unpleasantness or an end she dearly didn't want to contemplate- and father, daddy, had raised her into the woman she now was. She owed her life to him as much as Atlast did. If not for him, the Kingdom would still be a struggling outpost in the north.
He'd found dust, founded the SDC, even run it for a time, until Jacques married into the family.
The thought of him lent her smile a wicked edge.
Ahhh, yes. Jacques Gele, that wretched little worm, he who once wished to wrest control of the SDC for himself, utterly unaware of what she truly was. More fool he.
That Jacques had been dead for quite some time now.
Only a broken shell remained.
He'd been blinded by her beauty and the lien, the promise of power and all the prestige that came with taking over the Company. Perhaps had he known Father was Death incarnate, the living representation of the Great Hereafter, he would've run screaming for the hills. But he hadn't and he didn't, and so they'd allowed him to live in ignorance. The deception had been useful, amusing even, in some of her more morbid moments. By the time Gele realized the truth -that his supposedly weak wife was terror incarnate- it was too late. He was locked in, trapped, with no escape.
No one would see the truth. No one
And so he took to drinking, the poor fool. Really, it just wasn't any fun tormenting him anymore.
She had contemplated killing him once or twice, putting the little man out of his misery, but ultimately decided against it. He was of more use to her alive than dead. His resources were useful, his contacts necessary and is network...well. She'd subverted that long ago. Besides, she needed him...relatively intact if she wanted to keep having children.
Hmm, now there was a pleasant thought. Little Whitley might like having a baby brother...or two. Perhaps three?
The Schnee bloodline must continue at all costs.
All this at the expense of poor, poor Jacques.
She almost pitied him.
Almost.
Willow knew her family wasn't the only one to bear the Blood, of course. While the Schnees were blessed with their inherited Semblance others manifested unique abilities. Some could see mystic lines of death; the precise point where to cut something -damn near anything!- and kill it stone dead. Others were more mundane in their talents. She'd heard tell of a curious clan of blond swordmasters, stalward champions who could face down entire armies of Grimm with sword and shield alone, titans to make even Elder Grimm quail.
And then there were other, stranger tales in the badlands of Remnant; a place where the line between fact and fiction all too easily blurred.
Why, just the other day her dear spymaster had spun her a most curious yarn; the story of a wanted fugitive, a girl who massacred her mother and father with nothing but her voice. Apparently this "girl" could kill with a word and so had sworn a vow of silence since. No one knew where she was now. A pity. She would've liked to recruit her. Doubtless were others like her, scattered across the wastes, more than Father could ever hope to find.
They were those who kept the Balance; who worked in the shadows, preventing the Grimm from overwhelming humanity, but also humanity from overtaking the whole of Remnant. Just as there could be no Death without Life, so too could be no Life without Death.
And the world didn't know.
Remnant spun on in its ignorance, blissfully unaware of the titans that walked in their midst. They assumed it to be the work of semblances or magic, myth even. They knew nothing. Perhaps that was for the best. Father preferred it that way. She knew he was a bit of an odd duck -goose!- in certain circles. But none of that mattered to her. Father was Father. He had been the one constant in her life since she was small, her first memory, and one day her last-
"Miss Schnee"? A voice plucked her from her musing. Alexis. Her maid possessed impeccable timing as always. "A letter arrived for you just this morning."
"Another one already?" she kept her eyes closed but did noting to hide her smile. "How lovely. Did a dusty old bird happen to deliver it?"
...why, yes." the young woman sounded confused. "How did you know?"
"I have my ways." Willow tutted softly. Qrow was reliable as ever, it seemed. She ought to buy him a drink some time. "I trust you left it on my desk with the other correspondence?"
"I did, ma'am."
Her smile grew another inch.
Good girl. She'd have to reward her later...in private.
The thought of it almost had her licking her lips and at once her mind began to wander. No, no, don't think about Alexis' full lips and that long red hair right now! Focus!
Dalliances asides, she rather enjoyed her dialogue with her half-brother Taiyang these days. Communicating via letter was far more entertaining than a scroll call. She disdained such technology. It had no place in her life.
Come to think of it, he had two children of his own now, didn't he? Such darling girls. Perhaps she should visit them? They were not true Schnee, not in the proper sense of the word, but they shared her Blood, which made them her nieces nonetheless. The longer she entertained the idea the more appealing it became. Weiss might enjoy a vacation from Atlas, to say nothing of Whitley. Winter wouldn't want to leave the academy, but she'd fold with a bit of prodding. She always did.
And it would be nice to see Summer again.
...ma'am, there's something else." she heard the woman fidget. "You also have a visitor."
Did she now? Watts must've come to bargain again. How could one so smart be so very foolish...? "I shall see to them in an hour."
"They were most insistent-
Everyone always was. They always wanted her time. Always, always, always...
"I'm sure they were." Willow bit back. "But they will wait. That will be all, Alexis."
"O-Of course, my lady."
Willow listened as her maid walked away. Counted to ten.
Only the did she finally deign to open her eyes and rise from her crouch, ending her meditation.
Well, she supposed it was time for her morning exercises. Enough time had been wasted with that argument already.
She stood and regarded a towering suit of armor across the room, set before her in the wall. To the untrained eye it was just that. A suite of armor, however large. An iron giant clad in fully heavy plate, tall enough to cast her in its shadow and heavy enough to crush her with a single blow should it ever fall upon her.
"Activate."
At her command the armored suit lurched to life, drew its sword and snapped off a salute.
The ghost of a smile touched her face as she regarded its posture. This particular Arma Gigas wasn't truly alive in the traditional sense, not at all like the creature she'd slain in her youth; this one was all wires and circuits, bits and boards. Better yet, it was easily replaced, which made it the perfect training mechanism. Pietro had done his work well.
Willow considered it for a moment. "Commence training protocol Nine."
A bit of light exercise was just the thing to burn off some stress.
It nodded once and lumbered forward.
Willow brought her hands up and pressed her palms together, finger to finger, then closed her eyes.
Closer it came.
She didn't move.
Its arm rose, braving its blade in both hands.
"Mirror, mirror, "Willow hummed a soft lullaby to herself and mustered her might. "On the wall, show me whose the strongest of all...
The Arma Gigas struck down.
Her eyes snapped open, blazing blue.
An arm struck the floor with a heavy thud, fingers still twitching...
.
..
...it wasn't her own.
The poor Arma Gigas stumbled back, leaning to the left, unbalanced by the sudden loss of its limb.
Willow smiled at it and twirled a massive scythe of gleaming ice in both hands, letting it whirl over her head before she brought it back down at her side. She'd no need for mechashift weapons of worthless steel. Weapons broke. Steel rusted. But a weapon forged from her very soul? That lasted forever. Ice was her weapon, and with it came the cold touch of death.
"Well?" she tilted her head. "I told you to attack. Attack me!"
At her command the knight reached down, retrieved its arm, and attached it once more. Within moments the limb was moving again. Fascinating. An improvement. The last unit hadn't been able to do that. Was this one being remotely controlled by that Project of his? It certainly fought better.
Perhaps a certain scientist was due a raise...?
A white glyph burst beneath her feet and she was away, skating forward on a sea of ice. Her scythe flicked out in a lazy overhand swipe. The knight managed to block with the hilt of its blade but only because she allowed such; truly it was no fun when they died too quickly. Robots weren't the same as a flesh and blood opponent; she felt no fear from them, no terror, nor shock. So dreadfully boring. Its blade swept in again and she swayed under it, grinning ear to ear as she skated away to safety.
She didn't see the boot until it barreled into her back.
Pain lanced down Willow's spine and with it, the tenuous illusion of self control.
"Better!" she pivoted to commend her false foe, wearing a borderline feral grin. "Release restrictions six through nine!"
Green light gleamed within that soulless helm. Willow lowered her stance, sweeping her scythe overhead.
Any moment now...there!
The Arma Gigas didn't so much lunge at her as it did leap, bringing its blade down on her head in a rousing overhand smash. Nope. Not blocking that. Willow swept her sickle up and parried, diverting the blade harmlessly away to the right in a shower of sparks. It shattered the floor where it struck, creating a sizable crater behind before pivoting to slam the full weight of its blade against her scythe.
For the first time since their battle had begun, Willow's face lost its smile.
Fast! Very fast! Faster than it had any right to be. Strong, too. She felt her knees begin to buckle beneath such strength. Anyone else would've faltered. Not her. Not a Schnee. Never a Schnee.
Rather than cling to her weapon like some foolish huntress, Willow let go of her scythe and let it shatter.
Allowed the Gigas' blade to sweep over her head, now.
Her eyes narrowed. "Gotcha."
Her hands came together again, conjuring a long lance of ice between her palms. She whirled and thrust it deep through the robot's armpit. Circuits sparked within the armor. Froze now as hoarfrost crept across its outer shell. She let that weapon go too, leaving it in place to step back
Willow snapped her fingers and a pale blue glyph burst before her.
A massive clawed fist burst through to strike the Arma Gigas dead center in the chest. Armor warped as it stumbled back, stunned for an instant.
That was all the time it took for her to summon another scythe.
Willow cancelled the half summon -no need to fully summon THAT thing here- and waded in, scythe singing in her hands. Father had taught her well and she put those lessons to good use. Parry again. Riposte. Hook the blade around the knight's knee and yank. The Arma Gigas went down with a startled grunt, hamstrung in a way most machines couldn't be. When it tried to brace itself with one hand she cut it clean off at the wrist and kicked the offending limb away and slicked the other clean off when it sought to stab her.
The Arma Gigas limped back on its good leg, garbling gibberish.
It raised what was left of its arms in what might've been surrender.
Well, well. Would you look at that! Machines could feel fear after all. Fascinating!
She watched the green light fade from the knight's eyes, leaving it to slump. A pity. It seemed Pietro's project didn't want to play anymore. Rather than retort she drew in a deep breath and exhaled, expelling a cloud of cold steam with a single breath. The Arma Gigas froze on the spot and its please with, encased in ice.
A single sweep of her scythe shattered it completely, rendering it motes of falling snow.
Her wrist beeped and she raised her watch to regard the watch there. She'd beaten her last time by a second. Hmm. Only a second? She was getting sloppy.
Someone clapped behind her.
Willow heard the whistle next. Her heart skipped a beat and not for the reasons one might think. What might've been a source of fear and terror to others was one of gentle reassurance for her. A gentle lullaby a soft song that lulled her to sleep when she was a child, a soft lilting sound. There was more to it than that; it was both a reassurance and a reminder, a promise of protection not only for her and her children, but their children and their children's children and all future Schnees to come.
She turned to face and sure enough there he was.
Father was home.
He looked much the same as he always did; if a little more tired, his posture hiding the slightest sign of a slouch...for good reason. He had Whitley on his back and Weiss clinging to his leg, each of whom were grinning ear to ear like the children were.
The latter beamed up at her. "Grandpa's home!
Willow banished her weapon and smiled softly. "I noticed, Weiss."
"Well," Nicohlas -Naruto!- Schnee grinned, offering his free hand. "Don't just stand there. Give your old man a hug."
Willow very nearly did; her first instinct was to leap into his arms as she often did when she was young, but she had an image to maintain even before her children.
She walked into his embrace instead. "Welcome home. Will you be staying long?"
"For a few days." He kissed her forehead. "I saw the fight. How about a spar? I'm curious to see how far you've come...
Her eyes lit up and her blood sang. A proper fight? After that disappointment?
"That sounds like a lovely idea."
(.0.0.0.)
Weiss watched Mother and Grandfather take their positions with bated breath.
Child though she was, she found herself admittedly somewhat torn toward the outcome; on one hand, she wanted Mother to win, but on the other, she was quite curious to see Grandfather could do. She'd never seen him fight before. Supposedly Winter had, but Weiss had been too young at the time to remember.
...besides, thinking of her big sister made her sad.
She wished Winter were here to see this. Here in the manor. With them.
Why had she left? Was it something she had said? Something she did wrong...?
She must've done something; why else would she refused to see them, even during the holidays?
"Fight, fight, fight!"
Weiss sighed and shook off such thoughts, looking to Whitley, idly wishing she could share in his excitement. Her baby brother was practically vibrating in place, all but hopping from foot to foot with excitement. He young and didn't really understand why Winter had left, why she wasn't coming but one day he would. What could she say to him?
In the end, she pushed the matter back for another day.
"Shh." she knelt and wrapped both arms around her younger brother to hush the little scamp. "They'll start in a second. Just be patient."
"Awww...do I have to...?"
"Whitley Schnee!" Grandfather's voice cracked like a whip. "Listen to your sister!"
The boy wilted in her arms. "Yes, grampa...
Willow hummed her approval. "Good boy. Shall we begin, then?"
Grandfather sketched a courtly bow her way. "Whenever you wish."
Mother smirked. "I've come up with a few new tricks since we last fought."
Weiss nearly choked on her spit. They'd done this before?!
Grandpa grinned. "Lets see them."
A gravity glyph burst beneath his feet, dragging him down on on knee. He tutted softly and tumbled out of it, only to find a sheen of ice creeping up his leg. A blond brow rose and he leaped back to tear it free. Mother met him in midair and the world dissolved into a storm of ice and steel. It was incredible; so fast Weiss could barely keep track of them.
They did not duel, they danced and it was...
Beautiful.
...haunting.
Utterly terrifying.
She'd seen Mother train before. Mother was always incredible.
Agile.
Poetry in motion.
No one could possibly touch her.
Grandfather was just as fast, no, he made Mother look slow. Her scythe flicked in at his face only to be swatted aside, then he was in her face, raining down sweeping strikes with his twin sickles. Mother managed to evade the first two, took a third on the shoulder, bulled forward, took a hand from her weapon and-
"Yah!"
Grandpa's head snapped back as she drove a heel palm under his chin. Weiss heard his teeth click together from here. He must've bit his tongue. Even little Whitley winced.
But rather than get angry, Grampa only laughed, wiped a line of blood from the corner of his mouth, and took up his stance once more.
"Good." He allowed. "Very good."
Then he was on her, sickles singing a song of steel. Now it was Mother gave ground, panicking and parrying in a way she'd never seen before. When she tried to use a glyph to speed away he flung a scythe up, hooked it in like a fish and smashed it across her head, stunning her.
Still she fought on. It did her little good.
No matter what icy weapon Mother conjured, Grampa was ready for each and every one. Sword, scythe, lance, even a giant warhammer at one point. All for naught. He dismantled her every tactic with ease. For every sweep she manged to block, another got through and each one that did sapped her aura bit by brutal bit. She landed a flew slashes of her own with her ice-weapons, but Grampa shrugged each off until, quite suddenly, he had her. A sickle swept up under Mother's chin and it was done.
"Yield!" she gasped out, hands raised. "I yield!"
"What have I told you?" he lowered his weapon and flicked her forehead. "You're a jack of all trades, master of none. Branching out is all well and good, but it can only carry you so far. Remember that. If you're going to do anything worth doing, do it all the way, ya know."
...yes, sir.
"Great!" Much to Weiss' delight, Grandfather clapped his hands. "Now then, who wants ice cream?
Whitley's hand slammed up. "I do, I do!"
Alright, then. Help your mother clean up and get your jackets. Its cold out.
Whitley rushed Mother, babbling happily.
Weiss did not. She looked to Grampa, quietly curious. "How did you become so strong, Grandfather?"
Moreover, how did she?
"Bit of an accident, Weiss." he patted her head and followed after them. Refusing to be left behind, she grabbed his hand and forced him to slow down for her. He did so, albeit with a soft sigh. "My joy in life always came from protecting and serving others. I never really wanted to become...well...Death.
She tilted her head. "So how did you?"
"Hmm. Bit of a long story, that, and one that involves a Tree. Listen, Weiss." he looked down as they walked, his gaze seeking hers." A day may come when you feel you're not strong enough. A day when you feel small. A day when you fail. But that's alright."
She wrinkled her nose and blinked up at him, utterly baffled. "It is? Mother said Schnees are supposed to win. Always."
Maybe...maybe that was why Winter left. Because she couldn't meet Mother's expectations.
"Does she, now?" That drew a bark of laughter from him. "What your mother doesn't understand is this: failure makes us stronger." he gave her hand a tiny squeeze. "Whether that means following in my footsteps or running the SDC...that's your choice. Until then this house will be like a castle, protecting you. Eventually however, you yourself will become a castle that will protect others. And that will make me quite proud indeed."
"...should I build castle just like you did, then?"
"Ha!" his laughter sounded more genuine this time. "That's right. Inside your heart, build the biggest and most noble castle you can. Build it together with the friends you'll one day meet. You never know. You might meet them sooner than you think."
Friends. Weiss liked the sound of that.
Yes, she liked it very, very much indeed.
She would remember those words years later, when she met a little red Reaper.
(.0.0.0.)
He hadn't come.
Winter drilled relentlessly, snarling and slashing at her opponent with reckless abandon until they were full of holes, much like her stance. She knew she'd get a telling off for that, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Likewise, the poor bastard before her couldn't even defend themselves properly. Such was her fury. She showed them no mercy. Her blade bit into them time and time again until nothing remained. No arms. No legs. No nothing. Just a trembling torso on the floor at her feet. They quivered spasmodically beneath her gaze, unable to do anything else.
.
..
...a living opponent would've been dead. The poor mech beneath her probably wished it was after the damage she'd inflicted. Could you traumatize a robot? Gods, she hoped not. She'd torn at least seven apart in the last hour, ripping and tearing with reckless abandon
And still her anger wasn't spent.
Because he had not come. Tomorrow was her birthday. He'd promised...!
"Cadet Schnee."
"Sir?" she straightened, drawn from her maudlin thoughts.
Her supervisor stared at her for a long moment, noting the mechanized corpses around her, the sweat on her brow, her disheveled state. Her uniform torn, her hair down, lanky and heavy against her damp face. She was a mess. He'd be well within his rights to reprimand her for such sloppy behavior. It wasn't Captain Ironwood, she told herself. She didn't care what anyone but him thought...
.
..
...the lie was hollow, even to her.
"You have a visitor." He said at last.
"I do?" Her brow furrowed. "Is it Father again?"
"I am not at liberty to say. He is waiting in your quarters."
Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. "...understood."
It was him, then. That, or Mother, which would be worse. She'd left to get away from her stifling expectations. When would she realize that?
Probably never. She sighed. Best to get it over with.
It was a long walk to her quarters. Longer still in her sorry state. Other students made way fro her. She could feel their eyes on her back, hear their snide comments, taste the judgement in the air. It all pressed down on her, an invisible weight grinding against her shoulders. The snickers. The laughter. The scowls"
"Look at her. She's a mess."
"What did you expect? She's a savage. An utter brute.
"I hear she even got bumped up a year, the little ice queen...
"Shhh! Don't let her hear you say that. She'll probably attack you."
"Recommending her was a mistake. I don't care what Ironwood thinks; the girl's a monster...
Winter sniffed and blinked once to hide her tears. They stung at her eyes but she refused to let them fall. Bah. Let the sheep bleat. She was still a Schnee however fall she might have fallen. Sticks and stones might break her bones, but she refused to let words hurt. Not now. Not ever again.
She stalked back to her quarters, cursing softly.
Soon enough she reached her room. A tap of her scroll against the lock and the door whooshed open before her.
She stepped inside and toggled the lights.
No one awaited her within.
She scowled. "Is this a joke?"
"Not quite." A voice echoed behind her.
"Meep!
Winter yelped and jumped so high her head hit the ceiling. Her skull complained most bitterly as she crashed back to the floor, leaving her to rub her aching head with a whine. Blasted strength. She could usually keep it in check for the most part, but he'd scared the life out of her!
"Grandfather!" she rounded on the perpetrator with equal parts excitement and anger. "Must you do that every time?!"
"Yes, I must." He granted her a warm smile as he stepped out the shadows. Odd. Why did he have both hands behind his back. "I'd never miss my favorite granddaughter's birthday."
"How long have you been hiding in here?"
"Only a few minutes, give or take." He tutted softly.
Realization dawned as his words caught up with her a moment later.
Her face warmed at his praise. "You...actually remembered? But you're early...
"I'm old, not senile. Here." He reached behind his back and revealed a long parcel sheathed in an azure box. "I got you a gift."
She quirked a pale brow. "What is it?"
Open it and see for yourself.
Curious. Winter did as she was bade and opened the box, only to find a whit shroud of cloth concealing it. Something was wrapped within. Made eager by the sight her trembling fingers peeled the cloth back with delicate care, not wanting to damage her gift. Whatever it was, it had some weight to it. Not enough to be heavy, but it possessed a certain heft all the same.
Not it, she realized. They!
She peeled back the tarp and found herself gazing upon a pair of weapons.
Beautiful black curved, segmented blades, each bearing a wicked notch near the handle for some kind of advanced mechashift. Winter suspected she knew the type...she'd been asking after these all her life. She'd thought it a pipe dream, an idle fancy, one that she would never see realized, like so many other things.
"Do you like it?" Grandfather asked. "If not, I could always take them back-
At the end of the day Winter Schnee was still a child, no matter how much she pretended not to be.
"They're perfect!" She couldn't quite conceal the squeal that fled from her lips with the words, nor the babbling that followed as she all but dove into his arms. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! A thousand times thank you I love you!"
Grandfather choked. "Ooomph! You got me good there...
Winter's words caught up with her a moment later. She froze.
Now she looked up and found Grandfather grinning ear to ear. "I mean...that is to say...!
"Don't worry about it." he tousled her hair, drawing a growl from her. "You were the top of your class this year. I thought a reward was in order. And I saw you eyeing my weapons the last time I visited."
...she had been. He spoke the truth. She didn't have mother's aura reserves, nor the fine-tuned chakra control of little Weiss. But when it came to breaking things, killing things...she was good at that. Very good. She was strong and fast, and getting better with her glyphs. She could already summon the Grimm she'd killed. It was in her blood. The thought pained her, but there it was.
"Sit, would you kindly?" He sat on her cot and patted the space beside him for her to join him. Winter didn't even have to jump this time. Grandfather noticed and laughter. "Look at that, you don't even need my help this time. You're getting tall. Did you steal all your sister's height?
Winter giggled despite herself. Weiss wouldn't appreciate that joke, but she wasn't here to hear it now, was she?
"Here," Grandfather nudged her weapons into her hands. "I'll show you how these work. Give the trigger a squeeze. Gently, now...
She did as he bade; with a click of their gears the blades bent and folded down to enfold her fist in a wicked punching implement, much like the way Grandfather's sickles could.
"Now twist the handle like so."
The blades cracked apart to reveal a pair of vents within, thankfully lacking ammunition. She'd need to practice with dummy rounds until she truly got the hang of it, but she could already see a future in which she used those hidden guns to devastating effect against her foes. It would prove a nasty -and lethal- surprise for anyone who tried to close with her in combat.
"And, and?" she lost herself to her excitement once more. "What else?"
Watch, he guided her hands, still holding the blades, pressed the hilts together and...
"Ah!"
With a flick of the gears she found herself holding a bladed staff. Her head spun. So many combinations. Just like his weapons...
"It'll take practice-
"I will!" she burst out. "I'll practice!" Here was a weapon tailor made for her strength, able to adapt to any situation with ease. It would take time, but she had all the time in the world. "I'll treasure it. I promise."
"Good girl." He patted her head. "Now what's this I hear about you being bullied?"
Winter's enthusiasm died an ugly die, as did the smile on her lips.
"I...don't know what you mean."
"Winter."
She quailed, but said nothing. She had to handle this on her own. Mustn't ask for help. So what if the entire school was against her? She was a Schnee. A Schnee did not ask for help.
"Fine, have it your way." he sighed at the last. "Mind doing me a favor?"
Her eyes lit up. "Anything!"
Grandfather smiled. "How good are you at writing letters?"
"To whom?" She knew she had a few cousins scattered throughout Remnant. Was she writing to one of those? She already had one such penpal in a homely little village known as Ansel...
Come to think of it, she'd best write to him again. Jaune could be such a BOY sometimes. Ah, but Grampa had asked a question. "Who will I be addressing this letter to?"
Grandfather's grin grew another inch. "To...a friend. I'll dictate the letter. Afterwards, you can tell me about these bullies of yours."
Winter wavered, warbling a little. "I really shouldn't."
Naruto tilted his head. "You really should."
She sang like a canary.
A/N: *whistles*
Cookie for you if you can figure out where that letter's going.
Aaaaand scene. Hop you enjoyed it.
Last Wish references abound, hope you enjoyed 'em!
How many grandkids/kids, you ask? The answer is YES. Not all the cast, but yes.
Its heavily implied that Naruto's is a grandfather in this story, aka Nicholas Schnee. Also a stone-cold killer wielding the infamous weapons of Death himself. Strangely enough, it fits when you look into Nicholas' backstory. They're a lot alike.
Aaaand there we go. Hope you enjoyed it.
Soooo? Should this be a story? Yay or nay? Need to hear from you here.
Hoe someone, somewhere, enjoyed this. I just don't know anymore these days.
So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...Review...Would You Kindly?
Hope you enjoy the previews~!
(Previews!)
"I hear you've been bullying my granddaughter. I take exception to that."
"Hello, Pietro. I'd like an update on the Project."
"Don't DO that, Nicholas! You nearly gave me a heart attack!
"Hey, kiddo."
The silent girl tapped her foot.
She wasn't happy with him. He was late. Late, late, late!
She held out her arms, hopped in place once, donned a fearsome pout.
She didn't dare speak, but that didn't stop her from mouthing the words to him. "Grampa! Up!"
He flung up his arms. "Why did I play with my food?! There's no fun in killing you now...
They gulped, daring to hope. "D-Does that mean I get to live...?"
"...!" He stared at for a long moment. "Want a job?"
Ha! Served him right! He was dead now!
"I'm sorry, did that hurt? It looked like it did-ack?!
A hand burst out of the black smoke, found their throat, and RIPPED them into the air.
...sorry." an angry hiss rasped in their ear as five firm fingers dug into their windpipe. Quite suddenly they found themselves face to face with fearsome red eyes staring out of a singed face. "Does it hurt?" his grip began to tighten on their throat, choking the life out of their lungs. "Looks like it DOES."
"Nonononowaiwaitwaitwait!"
"Sooo...did she scream?"
Naruto rolled his eyes. "Who?"
"Goodwitch. Who else? Always took her for a screamer...
Qrow did not fear death. Maybe that was his semblance. Or his upbringing. They said anyone who came near Nicholas-sorry, Naruto-was destined for death. A bad end, if you would, that sort of thing. If that were true he would've died ong ago. Bad luck and death went hand in hand. He didn't fear the old man anymore than he feared his crappy luck.
"Diddya at least hold hands?"
"We did. Felt nice to be old-fashioned for once. Is there a reason you're here to torment me."
"Ruby's getting her scythe today." his smirk became a shit-eating grin. "Figured you'd wanna be there."
He was right.
..."I knew you were my favorite son-in-law.
Adam crashed through a tree. His sword skewered the bark inches from his face.
"Pick it up."
"Be nice to each other. You both want to be Hunters, after all. Might as well get along.
"Yes, grampa.
"Okay, grandpa."
Ruby waited until he left the room. Then she grinned. "He's kinda scary, huh?"
The blond boy nodded. "Yeah...
"Well, duh." Ruby tilted her head. "Scary is what grampa does. He only kills bad people, though. Don't worry!"
Jaune gulped. "That...is not encouraging. Wait. Did you say grampa?"
"Yeah, why...?"
"I have a cousin!?"
"I have a cousin, too?!"
"You know, I'm not a cat person. Never have been. Just can't help it." Run along, kitty-kat." the hooded figure made a shooing motion. "Monsters come out at night.
Blake grimaced. "Who are you?"
His smile took on a bemused edge. His head tilted to the left, just a little, exposing tawny blond hair. "Ask Sun."
"Ah...hey gramps. I promise this isn't what it looks like."
"No? Looks to me like you're hunting White Fang...
"Sorrysorrysorrypleasdon'tbreakmyeverything-
...without me! How could you?!"
Death walked among them. Amber couldn't think of any other word for it. It was all she could do to hold her wound shut, to watch him wade in. They couldn't touch him. Three to one and none of them came close; not even once. Steel flashed, sickles danced and they were the ones to fall back, bleeding badly.
"Three against one, hmm?" he tilted his head beneath the hood, grinning as an arrow whistled past his cheek. "Now that's unfair...
His sickle flicked out. One of their attackers pitched back, headless.
"Oops." he smiled thinly." Two, now. Better, but not quite."
A lazy swipe took another head. Someone yelped.
"And then there was one...