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[RWBY] The Wonderful Life of Mister Schnee

Discussion in 'Creative Writing' started by Fantastic Tales, Mar 10, 2019.

  1. Threadmarks: Chapter 1: Hard Astarboard
    Fantastic Tales

    Fantastic Tales Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

    Mar 9, 2019
    Likes Received:
    The Wonderful Life of Mister Schnee

    What would you do with all the riches in the world? Party? Relax? Good works? Well, a man from Earth is about to find his answer to a similar question when he wakes up as one Mr. Schnee. He'd better find an answer quick, though; his daughter just kissed a Faunus on live television!


    Chapter 1: Hard Astarboard!

    I'm looking for editors by the way, so if you think you can help improve the quality of the story and want to decrease the time between updates, feel free to message me.

    The first eleven chapters have been posted on Spacebattles and Fanfiction, so check them out there if you like.


    Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

    His eyes snapped open, as if having forgotten the patterned lethargy which overcame them every morning.

    Instinctively, his hand reached for where he knew there was nothing and tapped the scroll that lie there, abruptly silencing the annoyingly pleasant ring of the alarm.

    Before his still groggy mind could process the incongruity, his body acted, pushing his arms back and sitting him up. From his new vantage point, he could make out the soft bumps his legs formed under the fluffy, white cover that blanketed his gargantuan bed. Around him was a clean and well designed, if sparsely decorated, bedroom; covering the floor, if he'd taken the effort to lean himself over the distant edge of his mattress, he would have been able to see the warm, red carpet which decorated the floor and was itself decorated with a large compass.

    He wasn't paying attention to that, however. He was too busy tumbling out of bed and hopping about on each foot, screaming.

    "Ahh, Ahh, Ahh," he yelled quietly as he took strange strides with unfamiliar legs. His teeth didn't fit, his fingers were in the wrong place, his mouth tasted weird, nothing was right.

    It didn't hurt, or even feel bad; it was just disorienting, like looking at those moving-illusion pictures, except the moving illusion was his entire body, bones and all.

    It was the little things that set off this reaction, the minute twitches and strangely calibrated movements his body underwent, along with a quickly fading vertigo that overtook his senses. This reaction was why he was half walking, half running towards the large personal mirror that stood opposite his bed. And soon, he was leaning over the cabinet that supported the mirror, staring into the deep, blue eyes and hardened face of Mr. Schnee, the wealthiest individual on Remnant. Those were his eyes, however. That was his face in the mirror.

    Moving his hand to gingerly touch at his face, he watched, entranced, as the reflection moved to do the same.

    This couldn't be a dream, he accepted: Dreams consisted of things you knew, and he'd never known the impossible feeling of being in another person's body. Curiously, he took in his new body, his gaze shifting across the reflection before a flash of blue and white caught his interest. Slowly, his new, and somewhat sensitive, eyes were drawn upwards to gaze at the words which hung above him.

    "eenhcS?" he read in confusion, turning swiftly afterwards to look at the space above his bed. "Schnee" the embroidered and snowflake-themed crest read. 'Am I in Germany?' the man thought, 'In the future?' his thought pattern continued, observing the paper-thin slice of glass that glowed softly on the mattress.

    Knock. Knock. Knock.

    Three light, chipper, knocks resounded across the heavy oak of his bedroom door, startling him as they echoed through the cavernous room around him to become an ominous rumble.

    'Geeze, who sleeps in a place like this? Dracula?' he cringed slightly as the sound slammed against his eardrums.

    His thoughts cut short as a feminine voice called, "Mr. Schnee? Are you ok?"

    The muffling effect of the heavy door did nothing to conceal the urgency and worry lilting the voice.

    "I'm ok," he rushed to respond, feeling strange as unfamiliar lips mouthed the words.

    "Are you sure? I heard some bangs, and some yelling," the woman continued.

    "I'm perfectly ok," he said, more forcefully.

    'Perfectly ok? since when do I say that?' he thought with a confused expression.

    "I just, uh, knocked something over," he continued, searching for something to distract the woman with.

    "Oh! Do you want me to call-"

    "By the way," he interrupted, "how is my schedule for today?"

    'Yeah, schedules. This Mister Schnee fellow looks like a man with schedules. Schedules for days, even.' he smiled at his quick thinking.

    "Well, you're relatively clear for today, sir! You just have to host the Grand Opening Gala for the Messerschmitts. The staff finished preparing the ballroom this morning and the first guests should arrive at eight," The woman answered in a chipper tone, seemingly having forgotten her previous state of anxiety. "Oh," she continued, as if remembering something, "You've also got five voicemails, none of them seem critical, however."

    "Understood, leave me while I prepare. I'll meet with you in about an hour or so," he said, absentmindedly accepting her adieus while entranced with the new, strange manner of speech that seemed to have overtaken him.

    He decided to start by cleaning himself up, hopping in and out of the shower as quickly as he could and brushing down his hair and mustache shortly before donning the neatly folded suit that lay on his bed-side desk. Following this, he took a rest and sat down, staring at the intimidating selection of colognes that lined one of his drawers as he thought over the situation. He looked down through the paper-thin scroll he spun around in between his palms. In any other scenario, he knew he would have been overjoyed to study such a technical marvel. But he couldn't be bothered to do much more than coldly analyze the touch screen and look over the basic functionalities of the...phone...computer...device of sorts, the feeling of general anxiety that overtook him with the knowledge that he was in another person's body was pervasive and wearing. From what he'd gathered, he was in the body of a "Mister Schnee" in future…well, Montana or Alaska going by the accents and the arctic conditions outside his bedroom window. He worked in a company and might be rich. Actually, he was probably loaded considering he had servants and was "hosting" parties.

    Of course, the right thing to do would be to reveal himself before he inadvertently got this guy fired...buuuut there was nothing wrong with testing the waters before taking such drastic action. Who knows, maybe "body snatchers" like him were common in the future and immediately put to death once discovered. The fact that today was "party day" gave him more reason to keep up the act because he had, as of right now, at least one day where he could relax and learn more about this future. This gave him a chance to act on his own terms, at least to some extent, in any case. As a bonus, he didn't have to worry about messing up anything important. Sure, these fancy parties or galas or whatever had a lot of rules and procedure, but he was sure his servants would take care of that. Besides, a gaff at a party makes the Saturday news if it's big enough; a mistake on the job could cost lives and livelihoods... He shuddered at the thought, a lingering sense of dread developing in his gut as old news reports of exploding chemical plants ran through his memory. Seriously, unless this guy's job had something to do with Chemical or Aerospace engineering, he was gonna get fired on day one.

    He absentmindedly grabbed a purple cologne in a clear glass, applying the concoction before placing it back into the drawer and heading to the west wall of the room. The "west wall", as he called it, was actually a large bookcase, packed to the brim with a blue wall of velvet-bound books. He whistled in appreciation as he craned his head to see the top shelf of the collection, noticing a switch at the side which would presumably conveyor-belt the books to his level. The book he was looking for, however, was within arms reach, worn with the touch of many readings.

    He frowned as he pulled the book out and looked at the full title.

    "History…" It read, "...of Remnant."

    He opened to the first page of the book.

    "Man, born from dust, yadda, yadda, yadda, darkness, blah, blah, blah, Creatures of Grimm?" He frowned at the book, flipping to a random page decorated with an anatomically accurate drawing of a, "Nevermore, how original," he rolled his eyes at the name, looking at the massive raven which graced the page alongside a scale drawing of a human.

    He placed the book back into its place. He was here to read about the history of the world not to learn about the long winded backstory to a long winded fantasy novel.

    He skimmed through the titles on the bookshelf, reading...

    "Technology...of Remnant," He mumbled, placed the book back into its place with a bit more force.

    "Countries...of Remnant" He was starting to get mad.

    "An analysis of Dust Vein decomposition patterns...In FUCKING REMNANT!"

    Seriously, he thought it was annoying in his time when every franchise jus HAD to release twelve "world building" books of bullshit. The trend only seems to have gotten worse since then, however. No matter, he would just find an actual history book, even if he had to go to the library instead of scrounging through someone's fantasy book collection. It was just as the thought of looking things up on his new phone hit him that he heard three, echoing knocks from his door once more.

    "Sir, the first guests are arriving," the woman politely reported from the other side of the door.

    'Already?' he thought, turning to look at the morning sun shining through the window. 'Wait, did she mean Eight AM? How long is this party gonna last?' he pocketed his scroll as he headed towards the door.

    He was approaching the door when a terrifying thought hit him. He didn't know the woman's name. If he was right about her being his secretary, than getting her name would be the key to getting everyone else's. But he'd have to call her something in the meantime! '

    What am going to I call her?' He thought, frantically cycling through the options.

    '"Sweetie?"...No,' he shook his head 'too personal.'

    'Or maybe "Hun?"...Nope.'

    He closed in on the door with sweaty palms as he desperately searched for an appropriate nickname. Cringing in anticipation, he slowly opened the door before looking through and immediately thinking,

    'Oh, thank the greatest good of goodnesses, she has a name tag!' He rejoiced.

    The light blue tag hung over her right breast reading, "Schwarz."

    'Schwarz, huh? Strange name, but it's the future or whatever.' he dismissed the peculiarity and lifted his gaze from the tag. A pale face stared back up at him with gleaming dark eyes and softly curving strands of coal-dark hair running down on either side.

    "Good morning, Schwarz," he tested, hoping that there wasn't a secret handshake he'd just forgotten to do.

    "And a Good Morning to you too, mister Schnee!" she replied with a chipper tone, rising up on her toes in a short hop at the greeting, her fur-trimmed skirt twirling heavily at her knees as she did so. The richly textured, black of the hem almost gleaming against the almost uniform darkness of the rest of her outfit, the rest dark fabric only being broken up by the sable, fur hem running along every edge of her velvet jacket and the white cloth that covered her chest, just underneath the light-yellow, short collar that rose up above the neck of her jacket. All of this tied together with a grey belt with and two white, rectangular attachments that hung down on either side of the belt like earrings, reaching down to her knees with their length..

    His heart lightened at her expression, and at the confirmation that he'd apparently greeted her correctly. A wave of confidence filled him as he closed the door behind him and walked down the hall, Schwarz following behind with clicking heels.

    'Yeah, I've got this. It's just a party. I'd have to be, like, an advanced level idiot to mess this up.' our new Mr. Schnee thought with a smirk.

    "Oh, and, it seems there is another matter for you to attend to." Schwarz tentatively probed.

    "Yes?" he replied.

    "Your daughter, Weiss, has sent a message. She says she'd like to accept your invitation to appear at the Gala today after all, but on the condition that she be allowed to bring along guests," Schwarz said in an even and calming tone. "Mr. Schnee", for his part, didn't pay much mind to her hesitation, it sounded, to him, more like a formality from the sound of things if his own daughter had to "accept an invitation" to a party.

    "Of course," he said, "invite her. How many guests is she bringing anyways?"

    "Really?" Schwarz exclaimed, wide eyed. "I mean, of course, sir. She's bringing three guests, though you should know that one of them is coming as a date, a girl by the name of," she looked down at her tablet, "Blake Belladonna."

    "You say that like I'd mind," he said absentmindedly, nodding at his surroundings. 'Yeah, I'm definitely lost.'

    "It's not that sir. It's just that some aspects of Ms. Belladonna's guest sheet seem to have been left blank," Schwarz said, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

    "Look, Schwarz," he said, looking around at his surroundings and trying not to seem as lost as he was, "If she's human, than let her through," he chuckled at his own joke.

    "That's just the thing, sir," Schwarz said with the gravest tone imaginable. "Her guest sheet," she paused, "It doesn't SAY whether she's a human."

    He paused for a moment, processing the statement. Then his face brightened, "HAHAHAHA," he laughed immediately as the statement clicked. 'Holy crap, who knew Schwarz was so funny! She even had me going with that whole serious business persona!'

    He interrupted Schwarz's uncomfortable chuckle as he wiped a tear from his eye. "Look,Schwarz, remind me to give you a raise sometime," he said, patting her shoulder and causing her eyes to glow once more as she looked up at him.

    "Just invite them over and focus on the rest of your duties," he finished.

    "Yes, sir," Schwarz replied, expertly hiding her worries. Mr. Schnee could take care of such things, after all. He'd been navigating the swirling politics of the Atlas corporate head for longer than she'd been alive. She was sure she was just being paranoid if he thought nothing untoward could happen.

    'Yeah, things are going great,' he smiled, 'looks like nothing would come to foil his party day after all, considering how dedicated a crew I have.'

    "By the way," he asked, looking back at Schwarz as she followed him.

    "Yes, sir?" Schwarz answered.

    "Where are we going?"


    Weiss read and reread the message which pinged onto her scroll. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She'd only "accepted" the invitation as a joke. She'd never imagined he'd actually accept, considering he knew well enough how she thought of him.

    Well, no matter. His loss was her gain.

    Of course, she couldn't lie on the guest sheets, that would be a felony after her father and his friends in politics got through with her. But, she could omit that Blake was a Faunus, and when the time came at the Gala Dinner, she'd reveal the truth to a shocked audience.

    'The daughter of "Mister Schnee", dating a Faunus.' Weiss smiled at the potential headlines as well as the look on his face when he found out at a party of all his colleagues.

    It wouldn't ruin him by any means. She wasn't willing to damage the company so many good people relied upon for work and dust, even if was being led by a morally questionable head. It would simply mean he would have to disassociate from her completely, like she'd wished for all along. Furthermore, the press, heckling and rumors would ensure that this year was the most tiring, work filled experience of his entire life! But, most importantly of all. It would shatter that facade of a "happy family" he hid behind. That self aggrandizing lie of a healthy home he worked to ensure the world saw when they looked at the Schnees. All of this while never showing his own family a fraction of the attention and care he devoted to his own image!

    She took a shuddering breath as she calmed herself. No need to ruin her day thinking of such things.

    She forced a smile, that was supposed to make you even a little happier by itself, wasn't it? She continued to scheme as she called for Blake, saying "Get the girls, and put on your dress Bow on!...Yes, the one that comes off easily!"

    This was going to be the worst party ever, and Weiss was going to love it!


    "I'm honored, thank you," he smiled, adding some half thought out declaration to each new face that greeted him with a smile.

    "Mr Schnee" greeted guest after guest after guest until his hand ached. There was literally a line of people waiting at the entrance to shake his hand, and he sighed as he saw the twenty or so more people left standing before him. The "guests", it turned out, were VIP's who'd be treated to a tour of his palace, and yes, it was a palace, until the party began as ,apparently, the party proper wouldn't actually start until eight o'clock at night. It was nine o'clock in the morning as he finished greeting the last of the guests, so he would have about eleven hours to himself before the start of the party proper.

    Schwarz stood waiting when he entered back into the palace, the last of the guests being corralled together by a cheerful tour guide behind him.

    "Long line?" she asked with a familiar smirk.

    "Of course," he said, with a tired stance.

    "Well, we've got to go oversee the processing systems floor next," she said looking down at her tablet as she swiped through some files and time tables.

    "I thought you said I had an empty day?" he asked.

    "Hahaha," Schwarz laughed a light laugh, "we both know an empty day for you means you only have to carry your regular mountain-load of work," she finished with a smile. "But don't worry," she continued, "I've actually made some adjustments to your regular schedule. If you don't have any special obligations, you could finish by seven o'clock if you get to your office by eight!" she said with a sincere smile as she presented a multicolored time chart like it was a school painting she was especially proud of.

    "Mr Schnee" internally screamed as he pondered the idea of eleven hour work days.

    "Of course," he swallowed, "but put a pin on that time table for now and walk me to the floor. I'd like to talk with you."

    "What about, sir?" Schwarz looked up at him.

    "Huhhh," he breathed a deep and dramatic sigh he'd been planning for hours. "Tell me, Schwarz," he continued with a heavy tone, "What did I hire you to do?"

    "Uhm, to schedule your affairs, filter your communications and head your security, sir," she replied mechanically, as if reading from a list.

    'Wow, she does all that?' He thought.

    "And how long have you been working in this position," he asked as if they both already knew the answer.

    "Two years, six months, sir" she replied in that same tone.

    "Yes, of course," he drifted off with a thoughtful tone, having run out of questions to ask.

    "Is… is there any particular reason you wanted to talk about this?" Schwarz asked, failing to hide the deep worry that colored her voice.

    "Oh, it's nothing to worry about," he assured. "I've just been thinking about something," he lied cryptically. "Would you mind sending me a file with the essentials of my work. I want to look over my things. Include the family history too, actually. With pictures."

    "Uh, yes sir," Schwarz didn't ask any of the myriad questions which came to mind.

    The rest of the time passed quickly for "Mister Schnee", consisting mostly of an adrenaline flooded series of decisions about company essentials, everything from what regions new sites should be placed at to which markets they should target most heavily in the next quarter. It was during this time of the day, when he sat at the head of a table surrounded by an assortment of fancy suits, that it fully sunk in just how big of a deal he was now, as well as how big of a deal his mistakes would become. He sighed at the momentous realization as he finished the work day off just before he was due to arrive at the party. Still, today's decisions were mostly multiple choice and any mistakes were, probably, easily fixable. He would just attend this party, have Schwarz clear his week, cram about history all night and make a decision by next Monday: even if that decision won him a nice, new straight Jacket.


    "Weiss would have to sit to his right, definitely," she muttered. "But then, I'd have to move the Messerschmitts eldest down to sit by…ugh, no, she just got married to..."

    Schwarz almost frowned as she wracked her brain, looking at the seating chart layed out in front of her while occasionally glancing towards the mess of papers scattered to the side. The papers showed tabled information on all the guests, along with lines of relationships literally drawn between the names. She wouldn't dream of getting mad at Mr. Schnee, but it was hard not to feel frustrated after his last minute change to the guest list. Beyond the fact that his daughter was unpredictable at times and that her guests were unknowns, Schwarz would only have several hours to rearrange the seating chart!

    Schwarz bit into her sandwich as she played with the names projected on her tablet, sliding them around the scale model of the main dining table. There were many tables at this party, but this table was key. This table would hold the most influential and powerful families in Atlas, who could, and often would, forge the greatest dynasties at simple "parties" such as this one.

    And these families, like many other powerful families with long histories, were quite thin skinned.

    A single misplaced seat, putting together marrying age children of the wrong couple, unbalancing the hierarchy of seating orders, putting this person or that too far from the edge without proper reason… would bring fire and fury upon the "lowly secretary" who was playing like a god with the place and movement of these old and powerful names; and, in that pattern of movement, all of them orbited the name of Mister Schnee, the most rich and the most powerful among the rich and powerful of Remnant.

    Schwarz sighed as she rushed to complete the seating chart before her lunch break was up. Mister schnee had entrusted her to complete this, and she wouldn't disappoint!


    He stared up in amazement at the seemingly endless height of the room, his spirits lifting with the expanding space as he left behind a tense workday and stepped into the comforting warmth of the ball room. The arched ceiling seeming to hang weightlessly over the room despite its size, supporting a gargantuan chandelier in is center that radiated a warm, yellow-white light that seemed to color the atmosphere as it glittered against the tiling. He knew he was rich, but he'd never appreciated that fact until he stepped into this twelve story tall art piece, with intricate stonework etched away in every corner and richly colored tapestries draping the walls and support structures.

    The architectural inspiration, along with many other curiosities of the future, worked to convince him that Germany got at least a partial victory out of World War III.

    A gloriously blue banner hung down from the ceiling, reaching from one end of the room to the other as bold letters spelled out "SCHNEE" across the banner.

    He tried not to seem too amazed at the technological wonders which surrounded him, though it was hard not to get excited at seeing an actual, real life, robot.

    He soon focused his attention back onto the rest of the party and moved away from the massive doorway that enframed him. Stepping down the wide, marble staircase, he soon arrived down at the main floor, mingling into the crowd as he released Schwarz to enjoy the party, practically having to force her away from her duties of following him around and working. He noticed she never seemed to stray too far away from him, though, casually talking to other party goers as she discreetly glanced at him once and again, as if asking "are you SURE you don't need anything?". It was the best he could hope for, he guessed, shrugging.

    "Hello there, Jacquez," a confident voice came from his side, interrupting his reverie and revealing a beautiful woman with flowing blonde hair and the reddest lipstick he'd ever seen.

    "Hello," he greeted calmly, "who are you, again?" he asked in a casual fashion, too late to stop himself from saying something revealing.

    "Oh, straight to the insults, Jacquez?" she sneered in that still calm tone as she glared up and down at him. "Usually, we wait until after the backhanded compliments for those."

    He wasn't sure who she was or who exactly she thought she was, but the way she said "Jacquez", with an annoying stressing of the syllables, irked him greatly.

    "Is there any reason I should know you?" he responded, less concerned with insulting her now than he had been prior.

    "I feel like your time at the top has softened you if you can't remember even my little old name," she said with poison on her tongue.

    "You weren't on the VIP list, you see. I don't recognize shaking your hand this morning," he said, trying to maintain civility even as her mannerisms drove him further and further from that goal.

    She paused with a cold silence, looking at him with a dangerous glare as if he'd just kicked her dead mother.

    "Huhhh," she took a calming breath, her wine glass shaking as if she were working to keep the liquid from splashing onto his face.

    'I...probably shouldn't have said that,' he thought just before she spoke again.

    "Perhaps I was wrong about your softness," she said, chuckling. "It seems you've gone fully senile if you think you can get away with comparing me to those heel-licking, title purchasing, wannabe robber barons that you hand out those little vip stickers of yours to."


    "Know this, Schnee," she barreled on. "You can hide if from your pet secretary over there," she looked over his shoulder to Schwarz, "and you can even hide it from the press and your friends on the up, but don't think for a second you've managed to hide it from me. I, and many of the people here, know you're crumbling, and I'll be the first do dance on the ashes of whatever burnt out relic of a legacy you manage to leave behind" she finished, smiling meanly. She whirled about dramatically, her red dress swirling, and walked away with clicking heels as soon as she finished her tirade.

    With the slight exception of a weird coffee addict in a green suit, rest of the party went relatively normally; he spent most of it going about between various groups, asking how the party was going, exchanging pleasantries, and moving on to other guests to ask after them. He got similar reactions of delight and surprise whenever he dropped in, except for when visiting one person, a person who left enough of an impression on him that he'd remember his name after the night was over...Jon Braun.

    Jon initially caught our new Mister Schnee's attention, who we will call "Mr. S" from now on, by the extreme shock he showed at his presence. Mr. S was used to the surprise he got from people at this point, but this was no ordinary surprise. This was an eyes wide open, "can I believe my eyes?" kind of experience. Of course, they soon hit it off...


    "So you work on rockets for the military?" Mr. S asked.

    "Yes," Jon answered. "Well, I used to anyway. The team's being disbanded, I'm getting moved over to engine design." Jon replied with a regretful tone.

    "They're disbanding the entire rocket team?" Mr. S was incredulous. He'd worked on rockets in the past and unless something incredible happened, he wasn't imagining their obsolescence. "Surely the military isn't so short sighted. They'd at least want to keep the experts for missile design, wouldn't they?" Mr. S asked.

    "Oh, of course," Jon replied, "I'm apologize for having mislead you," he quickly amended, "you see, I was actually talking about...well...rockets to get into space," he cringed internally as he waited for the raucous laughter he'd gotten used to hearing after that statement.

    "Well, of course," Mr S. replied. "It's long past due for serious investment in the exploitation of space."

    "R-really?" If it were possible, Jon looked even more surprised than previously, as if he'd just seen a unicorn and that unicorn was also richest-man-on-remnant Mr. Schnee.

    "Yes, what exactly were you working on?" Mr. S leaned in with intense interest as he'd been dying to hear how rocket technology evolved into the future.

    "Well, I can't really go into the details of it, just the stuff the public already knows about," Jon said apologetically, though still with that look of incredulous surprise that bordered on fear.

    "Tell me anyways," Mr. S insisted.

    "Well, we were trying to develop rocket systems," he said. Adding after a short pause, "trying to bypass the dust barrier."

    Of course, having worked as Mr. Schnee himself for one day, he'd doubtless been exposed to "dust." Nobody went over the basics of it with him, but apparently it had a crazy-high energy density and came in different varieties which were named after the elements for some reason, probably a marketing gimmick.

    "Any troubles with the engines?"

    "Oh, no, the engines were basically modified Atlas thrusters, we didn't have any trouble with the design..." Jon replied, putting emphasis on "design."

    Mr. S was surprised to see the Atlas family of rockets still holding out this far into the future, but he was curious nonetheless.

    "What problems did you experience, then?" Mr. S asked.

    "Well, I don't have to tell this to you of all people, of course, but dust doesn't work in the upper atmospheres. We weren't able to get around that." Jon said simply.

    "You couldn't get enough speed in the lower atmospheres? What inclinations did you try?"

    "Unrealistic inclinations," Jon replied dryly, his eyes opening in surprise, now fully wondering if this man actually was Mr. Schnee. Was he on one of those hidden camera shows? Was this some hazing ritual they pulled on the new guys? Was he dreaming?

    "Did you try carrying your own air as propellant?" Mr. S asked, feeling silly as soon as he'd asked.

    "We tried. We think it might be the altitude itself which affects the dust rather than the air density," he whispered intensely as he spoke excitedly to Mr Schnee. He'd never thought being chosen to represent the Atlas Military at a ball would lead to such engrossing conversations. Even the hint that Mr. Schnee had heard of rockets would have been enough to tickle that hopeful part of him. but this...

    Mr. Schnee was about to ask why they didn't just use a chemical rocket for the second stage when Jon asked, "I don't mean to be rude, but you seem very knowledgeable about the subject."

    "I've been researching-" Mr. S replied just as a heavy bell rung through the ball room, quieting the guests and signaling the start of the dinner.

    "I am extremely sorry," Schwarz said with intense worry as she took Mr. S and lead him to his seat at the other end of the dining hall, staying stone silent as she led him the rest of the way.

    'Stupid, Stupid, Stupid' she chastised herself in her thoughts. 'Of course he only allowed Weiss and her friends to attend so that the Messerschmitts would be moved down four seats. This would move the Frau's down as well due to the recent marriage to their rivals, and that would've opened a seat for the Atlas military advisory to sit next to Mr. Schnee without there being a scene! It was all so obvious!'

    Schwarz resisted the urge to facepalm in polite company.

    'Thanks to my slowness, Mr. Schnee had to spend half the night talking to some no-name military advisor when he should have been talking to the heads! And His daughter is still here! No wonder he didn't want me around!" she gripped onto her napkin nervously as they approached the head of the dining table.

    'Ok, calm yourself, Schwarz.' Schwarz took a deep breath 'He still managed to spare some time for everyone, even if he was a bit curt. He'll handle the rest at dinner and you can apologize later.' Finally, she escorted Mr. Schnee to the head of the table, with his daughter and her friends lined up on his right and another family sitting to his left.

    She passed by Weiss and company on her way down the table to her own seat. She noted the bright, though relatively respectable clothing they wore. 'At least she bothered not to make a scene out of them,' she thought, knowing exactly how hunters and huntresses in training could get at parties. 'Perhaps this party could end simply," she thought, her heart pounding more than it usually did during these events.


    "Ladies and gentlemen," his voice boomed across the silent ballroom as he stood at his seat, "it is with the greatest honor that I host this party during such a significant date in our.."

    Mr S. started reading off the teleprompter and giving a small toast about a new business opening or something; he wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying. No, he was more focused on the camera's dotting the room. Not security cameras, mind you. Full blown, HD news cameras. Some of them clung to the walls and columns, hidden from the casual gaze as if they were a part of the architecture. Others were attached to drones, circling high above like vultures and almost touching the ceiling in their lazy flight.

    'Oh, so this is one of those parties,' he noted, taking a breath. Nothing to be worried about, he'd finish the toast and they'd probably edit the rest of the night out considering it would consist of people eating and chattering to each other for an hour, he assured himself.

    Mr. S sat down to light applause after finishing his speech and dug in. The party had quite a nice spread, he noted, sinking his teeth into some steak soup with a fancy, some might call pretentious, side of Risotto. He kept a sly eye on his table companions, making sure he mimicked their actions and didn't use the wrong fork or something. Thankfully, the people at this table just dug in; it seemed the complicated myriad of rules he expected didn't apply during dinner. Seriously, some guy in the corner was practically inhaling alcohol.

    "Weiss," he said, turning to his daughter. Well, "daughter." At the same time, she turned back to look at him with a decidedly neutral expression.

    "Yes, father?" she replied.

    "How have you enjoyed the ball?" He continued evenly, deciding to overlook the fact that she spoke like she was raised in the forties.

    "It was an adequate gathering," she replied, looking straight ahead and making it clear that she didn't want to talk.

    Mr. S Shrugged, he'd figure out what teenage drama or petty squabble was causing this later.

    "Well, how are your friends enjoying the party?" he looked to the three girls sitting beside her, who together formed a spectrum of emotion which he swore had to be planned.

    "It was good. I mean, great! Mr. Schnee." a soft spoken and nervously chuckling girl said, adding a quick, "sir," after a short pause. He smiled at the girl as she tried turning her grey eyes away from his. The grey eyed girl was sitting furthest from Weiss, and next to her sat a busty blonde in a yellow dress who didn't bother hiding the glare she directed at him. Moving on quickly, he looked at the next person in line, who he guessed this was "Blake" considering her black dress and that she sat directly next to Weiss.

    Blake's look was some combination of "Ahh!" and "I will rip your heart out and eat it!", all of this mixed with resting bitch face. Now, he wasn't one to meddle in a strangers dating life, but he wondered if Weiss had chosen the best people to call friends.

    "And why are you asking?" Weiss said forcefully.

    "I just wanted to know how your friends were doing?" he replied with probably the most honest thing he'd said since he woke up this morning.

    Alas, Weiss, despite all her riches, was not buying it.

    "Really? You want to know more about my friends, now?"

    Weiss's voice echoed across the ballroom. Mr. S noticed the sudden quiet and turned to see the nervously smiling faces of the guests as most everyone seemed to be occupied with sipping their empty cups while discreetly staring at the scene. Weiss herself noticed the now silent room, the buzzing drone of the cameras now audible as she worked up the courage to take the next step.

    "Well fine," she said standing up. "I'll tell you about them!"

    "Ruby!" she pointed at the grey eyed girl with black hair, "is the most talented huntress I've ever met, without whose leadership Beacon would surely have fallen." Weiss proclaimed with a not-too-subtle jab at the Atlas nobility's unpopular decision to hold back dust sales to a besieged Beacon when the white fang attacked. They reversed this decision of course, but it was still a sore point for many heads at the table.

    "Ruby," as he now knew her to be called, waved at him with a nervous smile as Weiss lauded her achievements.

    Mr. S wanted to give Ruby his congratulations on helping to win their D&D campaign, but Weiss was not done.

    "Yang!" she pointed now to the scowling blonde.

    'Oh, she's doing all of them,' Mr. S thought, as he looked at the scene with a neutral expression.

    "Who is the most KIND HEARTED and BRAVE person I know!" Weiss said, putting particular emphasis on "KIND HEARTED" and "BRAVE" as another kick in the gut to the Atlas nobles who wanted to stay out of the fight for beacon. The same atlas Nobles who nearly let the white fang destroy one of the CCT towers.

    Many guests in the ballroom were heavily gulping down wine from their flasks, Schwarz was considering downing a bottle.

    'The yellow haired one looks like she'd main an orc,' Mr. S, thought. Now understanding why Weiss had to be invited to this party. 'No matter, she can't make anymore of a scene,' Mr. S thought, wondering what kind words Weiss would have for Blake.

    "And Blake!," Weiss's voice rang out like a crystal through the now stone silent Ball room. Her eyes glancing lovingly down towards Blake for a split second before she braced herself and let Blake grip her hand.

    "My girlfriend!" she announced, helping Blake up from her chair with a tug of her arm, removing her bow with a flick of the wrist and bending Blake backwards as she kissed her deeply in front of the watching crowd.

    Yang smiled deliciously, barely managing to keep her promise not to make any more of a scene.

    Ruby clapped lightly in the corner with a nervous smirk, "yay! they're girlfriends!" she whispered.

    If possible, the silence in the room got colder, followed by a loud, unanimous, gasp which spread out in a wave before falling silent; the acts of yelling, crying ladies, and loud phone calls only held back by the common courtesy everyone showed in allowing Mr. Schnee to be the first among them to do those things.

    All eyes were on him, as some brows sweated and some, like the lady in red, smiled with a devilish smirk at the shitshow that would surely follow.

    Now, if you, dear reader, expected Mr. S to be so completely ignorant of Faunus kind that he would make the wrong move at this turn, you'd be wrong. No, for Mr. S had learned about Faunus just prior to his party.

    Well...he hadn't LEARNED about them...or read anything about them...or even heard the word "faunus" before in his life...Ok, he'd seen a picture of some people with animal ears on the cover of a magazine in one of the waiting rooms: A crime-watch magazine. But! He had managed to deduce much from a simple picture.

    For example, it was obvious that gene therapy had advanced to the point where people could selectively add animal characteristics to their biology.

    From this, he gathered three more pieces of information.

    First. Obviously, only rich people would have access to this technology at first, a hypothesis somewhat confirmed by his daughter dating someone with said augmentations. So make sure to treat people with animal characteristics accordingly.

    Second. People in specialized industries would probably get them if their work could be improved by it, which is why those prison guards on the magazine cover had extra ears, to help keep a lookout.

    And third, and most importantly. Don't freak out if you see people with animal ears, you'll make a fool of yourself.

    So of course, Mr. S was now extremely glad that he'd seen that magazine. Otherwise, he might have freaked out at the sight of Blake's ears and made a fool of himself. PHEW! Of course, it was apparently a big deal that his daughter had made a scene and kissed someone, so he'd better say something to ease the tension. All of this flashed through his adrenaline addled mind in a quick second.

    Looking smoothly over to the anticipating rows of diners in front, and his daughter and her friends to the side, he cleared his throat.

    "You know, Weiss," he said. "I didn't know much about Blake when you'd first introduced her, but I can see now why you chose to date her."

    Weiss rolled her eyes, 'Of course he's going to mention he didn't "know about" Blake. Trying to distance himself from this "Travesty"' she thought hotly.

    Weiss didn't bother to hide her disgust at the coming speech about her "rebelliousness," the "bad influences at Beacon" and her "traumatized little soul after surviving through the attack by the White Fang."

    Despite all of this, however. Weiss responded.

    "And why do you think I chose to date her, father?" Weiss said, with a tone as sweet as ever.

    "Why, because she's obviously an excellent listener!" he said loudly, making sure everyone in the room heard the clever joke he'd just come up with.

    'Yeah, I'm awesome,' he thought as he chuckled at his own joke.

    'It works on so many levels,' he thought to himself, glad that he was able to come up with something under pressure like that as he stuffed down a hearty spoonful of the, quite delicious, Risotto, still chuckling. Yeah, he deserved this. Slowly, he got less and less glad as his own chuckles echoed back towards him.

    No one else was laughing. Like, not even a little. Not even those fake laughs people give when rich people tell bad jokes, or even those half hearted pity-laughs people give when poor people tell bad jokes! He looked over from Weiss to the horrified faces that stood out on every person he saw, except for the red-lipstick lady, who's smile stood out like Christmas was coming early.

    'Yeahhh, I've fucked up," he thought, looking back towards Weiss, who looked like her eyes were going to fall out of her head as her expression switched between wrathful, shocked and exasperation.

    Thankfully, he didn't have to think of anything else to say. The rest of the ball did that for him.

    "What the fuc-" a man near the middle of the table yelled, standing up. The rest of that sentence wasn't heard, drowned out in the wave of shouts that arose from every table and corner of the room.

    While the panic spread, the cameras still circled slowly above, capturing the scene in all its HD glory.

    To be continued...


    Review if you've got something to say about the story.
  2. Mannfred Von Carstein

    Mannfred Von Carstein Patron Saint of Futanari

    Feb 28, 2017
    Likes Received:
    You know, sir, I normally don’t go for cringe comedy. I don’t like watching train wrecks. But this, I believe, has gone so far it has looped around. That poor, poor man.
  3. ScarletFlames

    ScarletFlames Getting out there.

    Nov 4, 2018
    Likes Received:
    I thought it was going to be a "Tanya" kind of thing, where he tries to do one thing but something, somehow, gets misunderstood by others.

    I wonder if he's going to do the stupid thing and announce that he's possessing Jacques Schnee (unwillingly, and unknown of how/why) on live TV, I hope that, that'd make the story so much more stupid.

    Maybe have it go with a slight panic at the party, thus ending it early and sending everyone except Jacques daughter (and her friends) away. Have him talk with her so she understands why he acts so weird, because he has no idea who she is and that he is somehow possessing her dad.

    Probably throw him him confusedly thinking that it's earth in the future and saying so to her. That could be used as a reveal that it's not as he'll say who he was before to "prove" that he's not saying nonsense, aero-space is pretty obviously related to space, which is something nearly impossible to do with just dust.
  4. Threadmarks: Chapter 2
    Fantastic Tales

    Fantastic Tales Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

    Mar 9, 2019
    Likes Received:
    Chapter 2

    I'm looking for editors by the way, so if you think you can help improve the quality of the story and want to decrease the time between updates, feel free to message me. Check out my Reddit Fantastic-Tales for updates on other stories that I'm writing.

    "Sir," Schwarz whispered, lightly placing her hand atop Mr. S's arm, "we should go," she said, hooking her arm through his and pulling him away from his seat as raucous chattering filled the ball room. Excited onlookers cried out in the frenzied excitement of the moment as a sort of spontaneous dialogue seemed to have formed in every corner of the room as every guest strongly agreed that this was not good, each person tripping over themselves to denounce the situation more sternly than the last. Some of the ladies lightly dabbed at the mascara ridden tears that streamed down their cheeks as many of the people stood precariously on their chairs to videotape the scene with their scroll cameras.

    Interestingly, nobody bothered to directly address, or even interact with, "Mr. Schnee" during all of this, allowing Schwarz a relatively quiet moment to guide him to the nearest exit: a secret door, hidden behind one of the tapestries that hung against the North Wall. Weiss, having recovered before the rest of team RWBY and quickly locating the pair, managed to yell out an impassioned, "Wait!" just as the heavy marble door shut neatly behind the retreating pair, resting flush against the wall once more as the tapestry swung smoothly back to cover it.


    Schwarz's dress heels clicked sharply across the marble floor, resonating within the small tunnel they traveled through as Mr. S wondered if he should say something to break the silence before quickly deciding against it. He shivered with aftershocks at the memory of what was literally his first informal conversation of the night as, eventually, they came upon a small, circular room with four mechanical doors lining the walls; a fifth door shutting cleanly behind them as they entered the circle. And, for just a moment, as they both stood in the quiet and otherwise empty room, well...honestly, he thought she was here to kill him. His blood pressure spiked as Schwarz turned suddenly.

    "Where should we go, sir?" she asked with a straight voice while staring intensely down at the scale-model hologram of a building that floated above her tablet. A fiery red web of secret pathways snaked their way throughout the projected building's interior while a blue, flashing light indicated their position in those very tunnels.

    "Take me to my office," he replied monotonously, managing to force a semblance of alertness and strength in his voice. And, at his word, the rightmost door whirred with a mechanical hum as the metal moved to reveal another small tunnel.

    They once again headed into the maze of pathways, occasionally coming across forks in the path and winding around strongly curved and inclining walkways. During all of this, Mr. S felt keenly the unsaid questions hanging uncomfortably in the air as Schwarz worked her hardest to pretend the answers to those questions didn't matter: questions that Mr. S couldn't identify.

    'Alright, this is too much,' Mr. S decided, eagerly pulling his scroll from his pocket and searching for "History of The World." It wasn't much to go on, but it was all he could think to search for at the moment. His eyes desperately scanned over the first link, reading in a flurry...

    Remnant is a rocky planet with one natural satellite. Home to two races, Humanity and the Faunus, the history of Remnant is...

    'Motherfucker!' he worked to keep himself from yelling as he scrolled down, only to see more links for this "Remnant" world building crap. 'Seriously, how much was this guy into this fantasy book if it affected his recommendations this much!'

    Frantically, he started typing away for a more specific query when a news story popped up, partially blocking the screen.

    Former Schnee heiress makes surprise speech at ball! the headline read, continuing on to say, "You won't believe what happened next!"

    A grainy picture of the dining table he'd just been sitting at appeared below the title, showing standing at her seat and looking down at Mr. S while multiple red arrows decorated the photo, pointing to a spot on Ms. Messerschmitt's cleavage, which itself was highlighted by a red circle. He scowled at the image, clicking it away as he worked to type in a new search once more.

    "Sir, we're here," Schwarz interrupted.

    Mr. S looked up to see Schwarz standing patiently by a heavy, metal door. He followed her light glance towards the small fixture embedded into the wall beside the door.

    'Oh, she wants me to unlock it,' Mr. S realized as he strode confidently towards the fixture.

    'Ok,' he thought on his way to the door, 'If "PASSWORD" doesn't unlock the door I'm going to pretend to pass out until I can figure out what-OH THANK GOODNESS IT'S A FINGERPRINT SCANNER!'

    Mr. S exhaled in relief as he approached the door. A loud and deep CLICK resounded from inside the metal door almost immediately after he pressed his thumb onto the thumb pad. The door clicked a second time, more softly this time, before parting in the middle into two parts, each half swinging smoothly inwards to reveal his office.

    If he'd been in the mood, he would have quickly run in and jumped into the swivel chair before spinning about to take in the aesthetic beauty of the room while softly saying "whoaaaa…" with each revolution. The floor of the room was covered completely in custom fitting, snow white, tiles that lined the room from wall to wall. The walls themselves were amazingly designed. The front wall was a solid block of metal, the same type as the doors'. The two side walls were covered in a lightly toned, hard carpet of some sort that brought a lot of balance to the stark contrast created by the white floor and dark, mahogany desk which sat near the back edge of the room. And finally, behind the desk itself, there was the main attraction: a wall made entirely of glass. He experienced a bit of vertigo as he looked through that wall and saw the skeleton crew working, their colored uniforms contrasting nicely with the white factory floor below. On the opposite wall of the warehouse was what could have been the largest television he'd ever seen. The screen itself was larger than his entire office, and on it was displayed the stock information for Schnee Corp, or rather, SCHN. A bright, green line ran along the surface of the screen, fluctuating up and down on a black graph as other companies and numbers flashed onto the lower bar of the screen, feeding real time stock price information straight through the glass wall. The green glow of the graph was just powerful enough to stretch into his office, coloring the snow white tiles a decorative teal.

    He wasn't paying attention to any of this as he walked in, however. He was intrigued more by the crowd of people who mulled about on the inside, apparently ready to greet him. Schwarz followed hesitantly behind him as she looked more obviously at the two groups which stood on either side of the room, forming a path for Mr. S to reach his desk as they all stared at him with expressions ranging from curiosity to incredulity to rage.

    He looked straight ahead as he walked forward, keeping his eyes on the desk as indistinct features passed by on either side of his periphery. Each step he took seemed to echo in the crowded room, his every movement risking a casual brush against either of the two lines they had formed against the carpeted walls. He released a soft breath he'd been hiding as he curved around to stand in the clear space behind his desk. Reaching forward, he pulled back the chair behind his desk and lowered himself into it, trying his hardest to look regal as he did so.

    As he sat in his chair, his desk surprised him by humming on and powering up all the electronics and computers that sat upon the mahogany.

    "Good. Morning. Mr. Schnee," a staccato, computerized voice sounded from the telephone which sat on the nearest corner of the desk. "You. Have. Nine...Thousand. Four. Hundred. And. One. Messages," the computer finished just before a loud, cacophonous ringing overtook the machine.

    The ringing stopped after several seconds. "You. Have. Nine. Thousand. Five. Hundre-"

    CLICK. The sound resounded throughout the room as Schwarz's hand pressed harshly into the largest button on the machine, though Mr. S noted that a small light still flashed on the grey surface of the device, indicating that the stream of calls continued. He looked up, seeing the contained grimace Schwarz directed at the machine, before focusing his attention to the people in front of him. Careful not to ask suspicious questions like, "who are you people?" he elected to take a more subtle route. The first thing would be to find out whether "he" was supposed to know these people. His only guess was that he knew at least some of them quite well, and must be quite friendly with at least one of them if they had the key to his office, so a more casual approach might be appropriate for the situation, he gathered. He felt a cold shill fall over him as he thought of what to say, unable to come up with any excuses or apologies about whatever it was he did.

    "Professor Ozpin, what are you doing here?" Schwarz asked with a mixture of relief and worry as she directed a familiar smile towards the man with the cane. Mr. S thanked his lucky stars at this and elected to stay silent for as long as he could manage.

    "I was just dropping by to say hello," the man he now knew to be Ozpin replied with a genial smile, breaking the silence as he took a sip of, he guessed coffee, from a mug he'd been holding up ever since Mr. S walked in. "We didn't get to talk much during the party," Ozpin continued, directing the statement at Mr. S.

    "I don't think you're the only one who wants a talk with our dear Mr. Schnee," a slightly tipsy man with raven hair chuckled. The man gestured with his flask hand to a television embedded into one of the side walls.

    "Why, because she's obviously an excellent listener!" the statement blared from the tv's speakers as an aerial shot of the ball showed Mr. S, a small figure in a white tuxedo sitting at the far edge of the largest table. Despite his small presence on the screen, however, his words tore through the surrounding silence of the ball room and seemed to pass through the tv and into his office to haunt him once more.

    "Now, as you can see quite clearly, his voice is clear and unstrained, and there is no hint of discomfiture from Mr. Schnee as he speaks, nor is there any indication that he meant to be deceptive. In fact, if you will pay attention to his chuckle there at the end, I can see no intent to follow up his joke with anything substantive," a man wearing a brown suit explained while the news station replayed the statement, along with the following chuckle, in slow motion on the left half of the television screen.

    "So would you say that Mr. Schnee seemed tolerable of, even friendly with, the faunus that kissed his daughter?" the reporter sitting next to the man asked as she hooked her hands together and leaned forward on her stool.

    "Yes, uh, I would characterize his behavior as friendly," the man answered with a curt nod.

    "Well thank you, doctor Braun," the reporter said with a respectful nod before turning back to face the camera with a serious expression. "We will now talk LIVE with our body language analyst on the scene who-"

    A light blue, circular light appeared on the lower corner of the tv as the sound muted. Turning his head, Mr. S looked up to see Schwarz standing beside him with her arm outstretched towards the screen, a remote grasped firmly in her hand. Mr. S wondered if he ought to give her a raise sometime.

    "Now why'd you have to," the raven haired man took a long swig, "go on and do that. We were just getting to the fun part," he finished with a devilish smirk.

    "Actually," a cold voice interrupted Schwarz's heated reply. Weiss stepped forward from the line she and her friends formed against the left wall, "I actually...agree with Qrow," she said as if swallowing something distasteful. "You have a lot of questions to answer," Weiss continued, her voice losing its initially wavering nature to take on a braver tone.

    As she said this, the rest of the group trained their gazes on Mr. S, who sat still in his chair, thinking over the situation.

    So he was sitting in a room with seven people. His daughter and her friends, along with Ozpin, were the people he "knew" apparently. That left two people unaccounted for.

    Standing next to Ozpin, against the right wall, wearing a white and purple dress, was a displeased librarian with a riding crop. No. Really. She just carried that thing around and no one batted an eye, not even when she was wandering around the party...Moving on, Mr. S. decided to ignore her attire as he went to analyze the other unknown. Next to her, leaning on the wall in a roguish manner, was a man who apparently just did not give a fuck about dress code. He was wearing a cape for god's sake! And even while wearing that outfit he managed to make it look like he was too drunk to dress himself. Now, Mr. S wasn't usually one to pay too much attention to appearances in the first place, but the man seemed to have a talent for annoying people. His look, his hair, they way he talked, and his nonchalant attitude in the face of this disaster…whatever it was.

    Man, he thought he was just soooo cool. Well he wasn't.

    Mr. S exhaled lightly as he looked at his "daughter", who now stood defiantly in front of his desk.

    "Now what could I possibly have to answer for?" he asked with an ironical smirk that implied he knew what the hell was going on.

    "Buh, ghhh," Weiss floundered at Mr. S's playing dumb act. "Everything!" she finally settled at with a breathless, exasperated shout, "you have everything to answer for! What kind of act ar-"

    "Excuse me," Schwarz interrupted strongly. "While Mr. Schnee appreciates your...excitement...to meet with him, you are still trespassing." she noted to a now surprised Mr. S. "Please leave and we'll be sure to schedule appointments for all of you," she finished in a tone that made clear that they wouldn't be getting any appointments. While she said this, her hand hovered dangerously over the visible emergency button.

    "You're excused," Weiss responded, calmly fixing her dress, "and we're not leaving."

    "Actually," Schwarz said in the closest thing to a sneer Mr.S had heard from her, "you wi-"

    "Schwarz," Mr. S interrupted, drawing Schwarz's attention to him while he looked out to the group ahead, "why don't you get our guests some chairs."

    "What?" Weiss asked indignantly.

    "Of course, sir," Schwarz looked down at him, smiling while her hand hovered over the hidden emergency call button.

    "No..I mean, actually get them some chairs," he clarified, drawing a confused look from Schwarz as she fought an internal battle between her trust in him and her duty

    "What?" Schwarz summarized her feelings, immediately recoiling at the apparent impudence in her voice.

    "Of course," Weiss chimed in, crossing her arms haughtily.

    Schwarz turned her head to face Weiss with a glare, "I don't know what on Remnant-"

    Mr, S didn't hear the rest of Schwarz's admonitions; for just as he heard the word "Remnant" leave her lips, he'd leaned back in his chair just enough to see the REAL centerpiece of the room. Above his head, expertly painted onto the ceiling of his office, was a giant map of…


    Dark, bold letters spelled out the name of the world in stylized lettering, with each of the continents "Atlas," "Minstral, "Vacuo," and "Vale" being similarly labeled.

    A series of epiphanies slammed into his mind as he gazed up at the world in a contemplative silence.

    'They're basically just modified Atlas thrusters.' Jon's words rung clearly in his head.

    'oh' Mr. S thought

    'Remnant is a rocky planet with one natural satellite,' the words from the web entry flashed in his mind.

    'Oh' he continued.

    '...home to two races, Humanity and the Faunus…'

    'OH' his mind began to burn with implications.

    '...seemed friendly with the Faunus that kissed his daughter?'


    'Because she's obviously such a great listener!' his own actions flashed painfully in his memory for no particular reason.


    Quickly recovering, however, the final piece of the puzzle slid into place.

    ...Analysis of Dust Vein Decomposition Patterns In Fucking Remnant…

    'OH SH-'

    "Mr. Schnee," Schwarz interrupted his inner monologue, bringing his focus down from the ceiling. "Are you sure you'd like to speak with these people now?" Schwarz continued, putting emphasis on "now".

    "Yes," he replied. No matter what was going on in the news, he NEEDED to find out what was going on. Now. Because he was far from being Montana or Alaska, and he definitely wasn't in Kansas.

    "Ha!" Weiss said, snubbing her nose at Schwarz while the dark haired woman begrudgingly called for the chairs with raised hackles and a nervous posture.

    "Just be-"

    "While you're at it," Mr. S interrupted the dangerously toned statement that Schwarz directed towards Weiss, "would you mind going through my voicemails?"

    Schwarz was a gem, and he appreciated her at the moment more than he'd appreciated anything in his life, but he could tell a frazzled person when he saw one. She was best off doing something other than talking to the people present.

    "You want me to look through all the voicemails?" Schwarz asked incredulously.

    "Of course not," Mr. S replied. "Just randomize the order and look through a few to get a feel for the environment."

    "Randomising. Voicemails." The phone chimed, seemingly deciding Schwarz's next course of action.

    Schwarz seemed to get the subtext of the statement and lowered her shoulders as she picked up the phone handle, pressed some buttons and pushed the phone to her ear as she read off of a transcript. Though, Mr. S noted, the task seemed to have a calming effect on the secretary, as a hint of a smile formed on her countenance at the first contact with the hard plastic of the phone.

    Now, he needed to get some very key questions about this world answered...and he couldn't ask any of them. In fact, instead of asking questions, he would have to give detailed answers about the politics and behavior of Mr. Schnee while providing an adequate explanation for the apparent difference between his behavior and what Mr. Schnee's behavior would have been.

    He was sure that was possible though…somehow.

    Maybe if he answered in question form?

    He wasn't a pessimist, but he was sure this would be the hardest game of Jeopardy ever.

    Mr S. blinked as he looked over the expectant crowd. Everyone was silent, looks of confusion, anger and intense curiosity flooded the room as everyone trained an idle gaze on Mr. S. Even Qrow, looking unusually serious as he leaned back against a side wall, managed to show some reverence towards the situation, as if the mystery of the century was about to be solved in this very office. Mr. S looked back at them with a blank gaze, slowly regretting his rash decision to keep them here as they all waited for him to bust out a completely rational and sensical explanation for what was going on. Well, that wasn't happening. His mind was still burned out after accepting that the future reality was actually some alien world and he wasn't really in the best state to come up with anything convincing. Really, the only explanation he could think of was the truth, and it was just stupid.

    Breathing in lightly, he prepared to grind out some half thought declaration when sweet respite came with Weiss as she cut through the awkward silence.

    "Can we get on with this, father?" Weiss leaned forward to glare down at him.

    The question buzzed past him as he barely acknowledged the meaning of the statement before it slipped from his mind. Really, he was thankful that someone else had taken the burden of starting the conversation, but Mr. S was still a bit distracted by the fact that this crazy body snatching adventure was actually on another fucking planet! As such, at the moment, he was more concerned with the Fermi paradox and the logistics of interstellar travel then he was with the conversation before him.

    "Get on with what?" he managed to reply with a straight voice and gentle smile, concealing his lack of fucks expertly.

    "You!" Weiss pointed a finger at Mr. S while she slowly intoned each word, "answering our questions!" Weiss finished as she felt her pointing finger shake with a growing rage at having asked the same, impossibly interesting, question of her father.

    "Well, what questions could you possibly want answered?" Mr. S replied, trying to put on an interested smile that came off as more smug than intended. 'Yeah, this probably isn't Proxima, what with the whole tidal locking. Maybe Alpha Centauri?'

    Weiss shivered with a contained wrath at his apparent nonchalance. "Well," she began with an overly calm attitude as she felt herself being undone. Her expressions and movements become looser and more exaggerated as an impassioned fury expressed itself through her. "You could start by explaining your behavior back at the ball, old man!" At this point, Weiss was a raging ball of hot fury, barely holding herself back from yelling as she let it all out. Everything. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she noted that she'd never gotten this far before, having always been shut down, or slapped or threatened before she'd reached this point, but she was free now. She'd already been disowned and had nothing else to lose, nothing else he could take from her. Best of all her father was stupid enough to let everyone stay, to let himself be cornered in public like this! Finally, after all these years, like a dream come true, she would be leaving this poisonous relationship, and she would be leaving with her head held high, her friends by her side, and most importantly...getting some answers!

    So why was she so angry?

    Weiss leaned intently forward as Mr. S moved to speak, hating that she was so captivated by his words and beginning to listen to that muted voice in the back of her head that told her to calm down as she felt Blake move to stand beside her, allowing her to relax just a bit.

    "Well, whatever would I have to explain myself for?" Mr. S replied as if this conversation was the last thing on his mind.

    "Why did you say that back at the ball!?" Weiss exploded once more, on the brink of shouting as Mr. S Idly thought about paying more attention and care to his responses before resolving to muscle through this, he was bound to mess up, best not to overthink it.

    "Because it was funny," Mr. S replied simply with a forlorn smile.

    "You. You. You. You." Weiss stuttered, rapidly blinking as she struggled to come up with more words that could express her fury.

    "Well what was I supposed to say?" he replied defensively as he felt his mind begin to wake once more and notice the rest of the people in the room who watched, as Yang in particular looked ready for a fist fight and Ruby weakly hooked her arm through Yang's in a worried attempt to hold her back.

    "You were supposed to say that you didn't approve of our relationship!" Weiss replied with the obvious answer, almost begging for the world to make sense again.

    "Well, why wouldn't I approve of your relationship?" Mr. S asked.

    "BECAUSE SHE'S A FAUNUS!" Weiss exploded, stretching her arms up as she stood on her tiptoes to point vigorously at Blake's cat-ears.

    Blake blushed as she flattened her ears and looked bashfully at the floor. Blake wondered if she should be offended at her girlfriends words.

    'No," Blake thought, 'she's not like that.'

    Mr. S, meanwhile was taken aback, visibly reacting to Weiss's words for the first time in the conversation as his eyes widened a hair and he moved to lean back against his office chair. There was a noticeable lull in the conversation as everyone seemed intrigued by "Mr. Schnee's" reaction, hooked onto his lips as they all eagerly awaited his next words. Weiss had said it straight, there was nowhere for him to deflect the conversation to. Mr. S himself was shaken from his reverie as it all hit him like a train, bringing him fully back into the conversation, the here and now, as "Remnant" left his musings and yet another stream of epiphanies streamed into place. Despite this being the third time that night that he was having such an experience, the power of the moment was enough to overwhelm him once more, to wipe away his thoughts as a singular conclusion formed in his mind, and, like a deer staring into the headlights of truth, there was nothing he did other than look back with wide eyes and reflect what shone onto him.

    Mr. S paused for just an instant to consider his words, the whole room going still as even Qrow moved from his relaxed position against the wall to look fully upon the unfolding scene.

    "You know," Mr. S paused with a slightly shocked tone, "Weiss," he brought his hands together, touching them to his lips as he looked down at his desk top in concern, "that's kind of racist."


  5. Admiral Spire

    Admiral Spire Your first time is always over so quickly, isn't it?

    Jun 27, 2018
    Likes Received:
    "You know," Mr. S paused with a slightly shocked tone, "Weiss," he brought his hands together, touching them to his lips as he looked down at his desk top in concern, "that's kind of racist."

    Literally dead right now.
  6. hwjumeau

    hwjumeau Fascinated but cautious

    Apr 2, 2018
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    My jaw dropped, then I burst out laughing. This was great, cant wait for more.
  7. EX143

    EX143 Making the rounds.

    Jul 5, 2016
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    Oh the irony, how that line is thrown at Weiss by her father, snrk bwa hahahaha... of all people....