They Say It's Wonderful

There comes a time in everyone's life, be they man or woman, sinner or saint, when they ask a simple question. The question is rarely directed at anyone specific, but we've all asked this question, and if you haven't, then you will one day. It is as natural and inevitable as your next breath or the breeze of the wind.

Is this it? Is this my life?

It was the question Weiss Schnee, 'princess' of the Schnee Steel Industry, found herself asking one cold, winter's night. The dark sky above was contrasted by the white blanket of snow that had fallen upon the quiet mansion. The workers and servants outside worked to clear it as distant lights grew ever closer. Her father's, Whittaker Schnee, associates were on their way, no doubt wishing to speak about some sort of business venture or political strife that was taking the city.

While her father's company had no official political power over the city of Vale, everyone who was anyone knew that the city's blood was pumped by the factories that laid in her heart. Without the churning and pumping of the factories and products made by the Schnee Steel Industry the city would be doomed to a slow death. So the Schnee Family indeed had power, or it was more accurate to say, her father had power over the city.

Weiss glanced at her textbooks. Each book was handpicked and chosen by her father in an attempt to instill the morals he had grown up with. Even the history books she studied seemed to leave recent history a mystery. They were a part of the gilded cage her father kept her in, a prison of golden walls and luxury, but a prison nonetheless. Freedom was one of the few luxuries her wealth could never attain for her...

The lights of the approaching breezer entered the grounds of the mansion and came to a stop, revealing the mint-green frame of the convertible. It parked itself in a clearing the servants made and it opened from within to reveal a rotund fellow. He stepped out of the driver seat with a uniform so scarlet that he became an almost radiant speck in the yard of snow outside. He fixed his mustache for a moment, before stepping to the backseat and opening it.

From within the breezer's confines came a gorgeous woman, with radiant blonde hair tied in a bun. She fixed her glasses for a moment, hugging a briefcase to her white blouse. Her top almost melted into the fallen snow around her, but her long, black skirt stretched down her legs, just passed her knees, kept her easy to spot. The rotund man reached into the car and handed the blonde woman a furcoat, which she took with a slight nod of appreciation. She didn't wear it, nor did she even shiver.

Finally, a third figure stepped out from the other side of the car. At first, all she saw was the dark shaft of a cane, topped with a silver handle. A man stepped out of the car, rising up with the help of his cane. This was a figure Weiss knew, even if it was indirectly. The man's hair was uniquely silver, while a dark, emerald scarf wrapped itself around his neck. The rest of his garb was as black as the night sky, yet it seemed to shine with an aura of poise and wisdom. The man fixed his small glasses, pushing them back onto his face as he scoped out her home.

Ozpin. One of the richest, most brilliant men in all the United States, and one of the few people her father showed respect to. A genius, writer, and a known explorer. He had traveled all over the world, from the distant land of the Orient, to her home city of Atlas across the country. He only stopped when he took up a job as a headmaster at one of the local university. The man had published several books about his travels, and had made many friends across the world, but it was Vale he called home...

A home he took pride in, or sought to take pride in, perhaps. Ozpin was running for mayor of the city and her father was vocal about his support to silver-haired professor. Ozpin walked towards the mansion, both flanks followed by the man and woman. The rotund fellow was one of his servants, a mere driver, but judging by the way the blonde woman handed Ozpin her briefcase, she was probably his secretary or assistant.

The three marched towards her home, as Weiss glanced one last time at her studies. She could either sit here and learn about long dead soldiers and politicians, or she could go downstairs and meet one of the smartest men in America. She did not need to think long about the choice.

The princess raced out of her study room to the carpeted, scarlet staircase. Her moonlight toned fingers pressed against her skirt, before she took a deep breath. She plastered a smile on her face before elegantly stepping down the steps. She could see the front door, and two figures in front of it, as she sauntered down the staircase. Her older sister, Winter Ironwood-Schnee stood with a militant poise, and one of her family's servants, Velvet Scarlatina

"Weiss? What are you doing here?"inquired Winter. Her tone was controlled, but her voice held an edge of frustration to it that Weiss caught.

"I saw Professor Ozpin's car drive up. What are you doing here? I would think you would be with your new husband..."

"James understands that I have other responsibilities than being his wife. Father has requested my presence here. Now I ask again, why are you here?" she repeated, her voice carrying a sharper note to it than before.

"I simply wanted to be there while father and the Professor spoke. I thought it would be an excellent chance to learn about a more modern event, instead of the by-gone era of the Renaissance."

"Is that so? And have you completed your lessons for today? Father will hardly allow you to leave them half finished," her sister interrogated, stepping closer to the smaller woman.

"She has." Both faces turned to stare at the faunus servant. Her eyes met theirs as her ears twitched. "Miss Schnee has completed her lessons for the night, Mrs. Ironwood." While her sister's icy stare picked apart what Velvet said, Weiss mouthed her gratitude to the faunus servant. Winter's face swiveled back to her sister, glaring at her with similar suspicion.

"Hm. Is that so?" Winter's scowl seemed all the more prevalent, before she sighed. She closed her pale-blue eyes for a moment, before opening them. "Very well. Do not speak unless spoken to. Do not interrupt. Be quiet and listen, and at the first sleight, I will ask you to leave. Understood?"

"Yes, Winter," bowed the smaller girl. The door was knocked upon, signalling Winter and the servant to take their place. Winter motioned to her side and Weiss came running forward, standing her sister as the doors opened to reveal Ozpin and his company.

"Greetings, Mrs. Ironwood, Miss Scarlatina," Ozpin's eyes traced over the two, bowing his head in a polite greeting. His hazel eyes stopped at the third party included among them. "And Miss Schnee."

"Professor Ozpin, Miss Goodwitch, Mister Port, thank you for coming. My little sister will be silently observing the meeting between you and our father. I hope that this is acceptable?"

"Of course. The more the merrier. Please, lead the way."

Winter nodded her head and began to walk, leading the small group deeper into the Schnee mansion. Weiss noticed Ozpin's driver stay where he was, planting his feet down like a statue. Winter led the group, followed by Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch side by side, then herself, and finally Velvet behind her.

The walk to her father's office did not take long. Whitaker Schnee waited in his personal work room, a spacious room that resembled more of a dining room, in all honesty. He sat at the head of the table, as usual, quietly enjoying a meal prepared for him by the kitchen staff.

"Ozpin, Glynda, please, sit down, sit down." Her father lifted his fork and tapped it against his glass, signalling for two servants to enter the room. "Prepare meals for my guests at once."

The two bowed their heads and retreated back into the kitchen, leaving the five to one another. Ozpin and his secretary, Glynda, sat on the right of her father, while Weiss and her sister sat to the left. The professor was the first to speak up, speaking with trained clarity and charisma.

"Thank you for having us, old friend."

"Anything for you, Ozpin. Please, tell me why you needed to speak to me? I trust your campaign is running well?"

"Well-funded and well-ran, thanks to my second," answered Ozpin. He motioned to the woman beside him, who merely nodded curtly. "And with your donations."

"Of course."

"But there is a matter of discussion Glynda and I had. It's why we came here. We are worried at a possible point of contention between our two organizations."

"Contention? Whatever do you mean, Ozpin?"

"You recently made several large donations to the Women's Christian Temperance Union, the Anti-Saloon League, and the the Prohibition Party. You have been very vocal about these donations, and your belief in enforcing the Prohibition?"

"I did." In a moment, the air seemed to change around Weiss. Her father's smile vanished from his lips, and his eyes sharpened, scrutinizing Glynda and Ozpin under his aquamarine eyes. "Why would this be a point of contention, Ozpin? Don't tell me you are against the Prohibition Act?" His icy eyes sent a chill down Weiss' spine, and even her stoic sister stood straighter, more rigid and alert.

Her father held a strong distaste for alcohol, and an even fiercer hatred for those that partook in it. Her father's hand twitched as he slammed his fork to the wooden surface, shaking the table. His glove hand tightened as his fingers twisted into a fist. Despite all of this, Ozpin and his assistant seemed unperturbed.

"I simply feel that such large investments are impractical towards such a trivial issue."

"Trivial?" Her father's hand slammed into the table again, shaking his plate and glass. "Alcohol, and those that partake in it, are poisons to this nation! If you're going to run for any position of power in this nation, Ozpin, you can't possibly be trying to argue that."

"I am not trying to argue anything of the sort, but I simply believe that we should put our resources to more practical goals, such as stamping down on organized crime or theft."

Glynda recited, as if reading the facts from a paper. "Since the Prohibition Act's implementation, there has been a rise in organized criminal activity. There are criminals acting in unified, strategic manners to create anarchy or simply to participate in the growing black market. Not to mention the damage the Prohibition Act is causing for the national government. Without alcohol taxes on stores, bars, and restaurants, the national treasury has lost millions of dollars."

Weiss had to catch her jaw from nearly dropping. Ozpin's assistant spoke so curtly, so recklessly to her father.. The growing anger from her father was almost palpable, but the blonde did not seem to care. Ozpin merely picked up where she left off.

"And perhaps most damaging of all?" The growing mistrust between the people and the government meant to aide them. When the average man and woman would rather hide in the shadows with true criminals, instead of in the light of those they voted into power, change must be applied."

"Any change to the status quo come with growing pains. Give it time and the people will be thanking me for my work!" His voice was hoarse, almost scratchy as he roared. Rarely did he ever raise his voice to this level. Most people just knew to avoid his wrath, and if they didn't, they'd quickly learn. Ozpin and Glynda continued to be the exceptions.

"Please, calm down, Mr. Schnee. We merely believe your resources can be put to better use. There are thieves, thugs, and murderers out there, running free while you focus your wealth to making alcohol marginally more difficult to acquire."

"Who do you think is the one serving the alcohol?! Out there in their dirt-covered, grimey speakyeasys! All they do is drown themselves in liquor while that awful racket they call music plays! Winter, what is it called!?"

"Jazz, father."

"Yes. Jazz," he huffed, slowly calming down. His every breath was labored, his every word quaking. "All they do in their clubs is play that awful music, drink liquor, and sin. The youth of this country become criminals because of places like this, and I won't allow it. I won't let my daughters grow up in a world where they can be preyed upon by vices like them. So to give you a simple answer, Ozpin, I will continue to make donations to the organizations I see fit to. This money is mine, and need I remind you, I can reconsider my donations at any time."

"There will be no need for that, Mr. Schnee," replied Ozpin. "We were merely asking you, not demanding. We meant no offense."

"Hm. Of course not," her father grumbled.

The remainder of the dinner was held within an air of tension. Ozpin and his secretary made small talk with her father, but every sentence spewed from her father seemed peppered with hate for whatever had caught his ire. He slandered and cursed the unemployed and newly immigrated, and he almost seemed to want to bring the topic back to jazz and liquor, just so he could complain about them.

Ozpin and Glynda continued to quietly accept what he said as they ate. Weiss and her sister simply quietly ate their food, only answering when spoken to.

Weiss never knew how to react when her father's anger reached this point. There were times she wished she said she could match his fury, if only so she wouldn't feel so out-of-place beside him. She looked at the Faunus servants that stepped inside to take their dirty plates and she considered what her father thought of them. The Faunus were not seen as equals by her father, in truth, he considered them only slightly higher than pets to the Schnee family.

Despite this, the Faunus servants never seemed that bad to Weiss. Her light-blue eyes followed Velvet's quiet figure as she picked up a plate and silently carried it away. The rabbit faunus had worked at the mansion for as long as Weiss could remember, and never had the rabbit seemed as savage or unintelligent as her father would curse.

"Thank you, Miss Scarlatina."

"It is my pleasure, Miss Schnee."

Polite. Humble. Kind. Velvet was an excellent servant, and one that had earned Weiss' professional respect, if nothing else. She was nothing like what her father accused the faunus of being.

How many other things were her father wrong about? That was a question that Weiss had found herself wrestling with since her youth.

"You know, Whitaker, I wouldn't be so quick to reject the new arts. Times are changing, and the next generation wants to make their own future, not repeat our present." Ozpin stood up from his seat when dinner came to an end, his gentle features curling into an easy smile. He projected an air of comfort, Weiss noticed, a helpful talent for a future politician.

"I don't see why that would be the case. We live in a beautiful age. A purer age. Take a look at Miss Scarlatina, for example." The bunny faunus froze in her place and faced the table of men and women. Weiss could see her slight shiver, as if she was afraid that a single hair out of place would lead to punishment. "She has been working for my family for years as one of my daughter's personal servants. In exchange, I pay her well and even ensure she has a home."

"Women can even vote now," he continued. "You've been keeping tabs on me, Ozpin, surely you know I've also made donations into women's rights. All out of love for my daughters," he declared, motioning to Winter and Weiss. "Everything I do is to ensure the safety and well-being of my daughters in this world."

"Is that why you wish to force both of your daughters to be married to strangers?" Glynda jeered. Weiss caught the slight deflation in Winter's shoulders as her marriage was brought up.

"That is why I want to entrust my daughters to wealthy, cultured men who will treat my children well. Like James Ironwood. Kind, intelligent, firm, and from Atlas as well. These are fine traits in a man."

The blonde woman looked ready to retort, butOzpin lifted a gloved hand between Glynda and Whitaker Schnee, requesting silence among the two. Both obeyed him, merely glaring at one another over Ozpin's shoulder. "Enough. It is obvious that we will not be agreeing on anything tonight. Whitaker, perhaps we should reconvene at the Vale Opera house? Enjoy a show of your choice, Whittaker?"

"Hm. Ozpin, I don't suppose this is your attempt to butter me up to whatever requests or suggestions you have next for me?" Her father's voice had a slight playfulness to it now. Ozpin seemed to know perfectly what to say and how to diffuse a situation.

"Of course not. Merely one friend caring for another."

Weiss didn't believe him, and she doubted her father did, but the old man still let out a hearty laugh. "Fantastic. Please, have your secretary call mine. We'll set up a date. Winter, Velvet, would you be so kind as to show Miss Goodwitch and Professor Ozpin the way back?"

"Yes, sir."

"As you wish, father."

Uh oh, Weiss watched as the four began to leave. Her sister offered her a sympathetic glance, but she dared not do anything more. Not in front of their father. Weiss could feel the air turn to ice as her father's eyes hardened. His smile fell into a scowl as the door clicked shut. "Father-"

"You are supposed to be studying. Why are you here, Weiss?"

"I am studying. I am studying modern day politics, instead of history from a hundred years ago," she replied, speaking with trained elegance and style. Her voice dripped with reason and poise. It was an excellent mask for the racing rhythm of her heart.

"I gave you an assignment and you ignored it."

"I took initiative." Her fingers stroked and touched one another as she stood up from her seat. She took a balanced position in front of her father, trying to be brave, but feeling like she was standing in front of a firing squad. "I want to understand the things you do. I merely-"

"Do not try to make excuses for your actions. I know why you came here, though I do not understand why. You will change nothing. My mind is set. You will not inherit my company."

"You support women voting, but not your own daughter with your company?"

"With my life's work? No. Not even to you," he stated, his voice even as Weiss felt his words skewer her heart. "You will be married off to a wealthy bachelor like your sister. You will live a life of luxury as his wife. Consider yourself-"

"It isn't your life's work..."

"Excuse me?" His voice dared her to speak out of turn again. His love for Weiss gave her a single chance to avoid further punishment.

"It isn't your life's work." Weiss's cool gaze glared into her father's eyes. "It's your father's." She threw the chance back at him.

"Enough!" His voice was suddenly booming, like a gunshot. It echoed off of the walls of the small meeting room, bouncing back against the quaking girl. Weiss couldn't hide the mousey squeak her throat made, her fire vanishing under his cold, uncaring gaze. "I will not be spoken to within my own home! You are my daughter, and you will always have my love, but you will not have my respect by throwing a tantrum like some spoiled brat! Go to your room! Now!"

"You can't just-"

"If you insist on acting like a child, I will treat you like one! Out!" He pointed the door behind Weiss, his grey brows furrowed, wrinkled with rage as scowl grew into utter rage. His features were twisted, no longer cold, but enraged.

Weiss didn't know what to say. Her head hung down as she held back a shudder. Her pristine teeth dug into her lip, before she silently obeyed. She avoided her father's glare as she turned away and quietly walked out of the room. She could hear the soft rhythm of her footsteps meld with the labored breaths of her father. She stopped in the doorway, hand on the edge of the wall as her other hand squeezed, tightening into a shaking fist.

Apologize.

Stop it. Say something.

Say something!

"I-I'm sorry." She was surprised by the broken, stilted tone of her own voice. "I'm sorry, father," she repeated, clearing her voice and hiding her sorrow. He didn't say anything in response. He just bid her a silent goodbye. The door closed behind her, leaving Weiss alone. She stood there for a moment, her father's words echoing through her mind. She took the nauseous writhing in her stomach and bottled it away as she began walking back to her room.

"I apologize for his behavior. Are you okay, Miss Schnee?"

"Huh?" She lifted her head to find Ozpin standing in the decorated hall with a smile on his face. He had his arms crossed over his body, hands resting on the silver handle of his black cane. "Professor Ozpin?" Her vision of the professor was a blurry mess of green, blacks and the almond-brown of the hallway. She rubbed at her eyes, drying them of the small pools growing beneath them.

"Hello, Miss Schnee. I apologized if I startled you."

"What are you doing here? Is there something I can help you with...?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Actually, there appeared to be something I could help you with."

"Huh?"

"You appeared as though you had a question on your mind. When I saw you, you acted as though you wanted to speak, but couldn't. I didn't know if there was something I could assist with?"

"I-" Weiss' eyes fell to the carpeted floor, avoiding his curious eyes. She could hear the quiet footsteps as he approached her. "No. There was nothing."

"Ah. My mistake then." The silence of the hallway was deafening. Weiss lifted up her head to glance at the older man, finding him standing before her, staring at the door to her father's meeting room. "Whitaker Schnee is not an evil man."

"Huh?"

"But he is far from a perfect man. He is firmly planted in what he does know and does not want to further his horizons. A shame. To understand something and reject it is disappointing, to reject something without ever attempting to understand it? That is a tragedy."

"I'm sorry?"

"I apologize, I was merely thinking aloud. Would you be so kind as to walk with me back to my car?"

"Oh! Of course, Professor." Weiss nodded her head, and the two began to walk side-by-side down the empty hall. Her eyes drifted onto the older man, before darting back to the end of the hall. "Professor? Hypothetically speaking, were I to have a question, would you be willing to answer it?"

"But of course, Miss Schnee."

"But... would you also be willing to keep it from my father?"

To her surprise, his response was near instant. "Completely understandable. I promise that anything said between the two of us will be kept only between the two of us." His almond eyes shined with a warmth that Weiss found herself unfamiliar with. She looked the older man over with her azure eyes. He was a known samaritan, famed for his altruistic ways.

Of course, so was her father's.

"He can't know I'm asking you any of this."

"Weiss." The sound of her own name broke her from her stupor. Ozpin had stopped walking. The front door was just a few paces away from them now, but his focus and attention was on her. He stared at her, but he didn't try to coax or reel a response out of her. He waited for her. His soft eyes told her all she needed to know. He would keep her secret.

"What's out there?" A grey brow rose and vanished under Ozpin's hairline as he silently awaited her next word. "My father keeps me to a strict schedule. Studies, practice, sometimes I perform, but I've never been able to just walk outside and... see what the world is like."

"The world outside? Crime is rampant. Some nights, bigotry outweighs compassion. Most people refuse to listen to one another. It isn't always a kind world out there. Some nights, looking out at the world is like staring at a pit. Dark and unknowing, but you can feel it change you in the pit of your stomach..." His eyes dared not look at her, only staring forward at the front door.

"T-that sounds awful..." So my father was right...?

"It's what your father would say." Ozpin's fingers squeezed his cane, before gently drumming along the metal ornament. "And perhaps it is truer some nights than others, but I believe differently. It is dangerous, I do not doubt that, but there is life to the chaos outside. Neon lights shining in the night, smiling faces and friendly men and women, everyone looking for their place in life..." Weiss tried to imagine what he was saying. She tried to imagine the world Ozpin told her about, but she struggled to picture what she had never seen. "And the music... The music is truly, truly spectacular."

"Jazz. That's what you mentioned earlier, didn't you?"

"I did, though jazz is more of a catch-all term for the rise of this era's music. Jazz comes in many different shapes and forms, you see."

"What is it? I've never heard of it before. My father has spoken about it, but..."

"I understand." A gentle hand fell upon her shoulder, and the grace and warmth it held was almost unnatural to the wealthy woman. She blinked once, twice, before looking up to the concerned face of the professor. "I've heard jazz described as many things. Youth. Excitement. A passing fad. Racket. But one term for it has always struck right by me. Jazz is, quite simply, freedom."

"Freedom...?" Weiss's fingers crumpled the soft, pristine cloth of her skirt. She could feel her hot fingertips through the white dress. Her mind took the word in, and her lips gently repeated the word, wordlessly examining the seven letter word. "It must be nice."

"Your father, and others like him, disagree."

"And what do you think, Profesor Ozpin?"

"I believe that we should all strive to understand what we don't already, and that includes you, Miss Schnee." His hazel eyes fell upon her once more, she realized, but they held a spark of something more. The light of sympathy still rang true, but now there was the smolder of a growing fire. "I believe to truly understand something, you should seek it out first hand. If you wish to learn, then learn."

"My father would never allow me to bring jazz music into his house, Professor."

"Then seek it out yourself." Ozpin lifted a hand from his cane and reached into his coat pocket. From within it, he retrieved a single, crisp white card. On the card was an address. "Go to this address. If you need to, you may use my name as an excuse for your father. I will vouch with whatever story you tell, as long as it is within reason. I wish for you to go to this address and experience what you have not been able to in the past."

"W-what is this?" she asked, taking the card between two delicate fingers.

"A secret. You have trusted myself with one of yours, now I will do the same with you. Once there, ask if you can see what they have in the back. Follow them. Just please be careful. I can loan you my driver, Peter Port, if you would like. He can drive you there and back, if need be. Finally, while I understand you are a woman now, I do advise you avoid any hard liquor. Best not to overwhelm yourself."

"L-liquor?" It took all of Weiss' self-control not to scream that out. Her eyes widened into plates as her pupils almost seemed to shrink in the oceans of white. She glanced at the card, before looking at the bemused man. He seemed unperturbed by all of this... "P-Professor? Is this a... a speakeasy?"

"I prefer the term jazz club, but I see no point in splitting hairs." His cane tapped the surface of the floor, and she could see the playful smile on his lips. His eyes contained a gleam of mirth that she would have thought Ozpin too old to have. "I am trusting you with this secret, as you trust myself with yours, Miss Schnee. I pray you do not betray my trust."

"I-I... N-no. Of course not, Professor." Weiss didn't know what else to say. It was true that Ozpin had her in a position of mutual destruction. If she said anything of this to the wrong person, he could do the same with her father. The very fact that she was curious about the world outside could spell out doom for her, not to mention it would cause her gilded cage to become even smaller.

The golden paint that covered the bars would erode and flake off, and her father would drop all pretenses... The thought made Weiss feel nauseous, but she tried to stomach the discomfort and focus on Ozpin.

"I simply want to understand what is kept from me. I want the chance to grow from out of his shadow."

"Paint beyond the canvas given to you." He chuckled at that, his smile even widening as he saw Glynda step back into the house. Her emerald eyes glared at her employer, silently motioning for him to hurry. He held up a single hand, politely asking for Glynda to wait a moment. Weiss made a mental note of how unique the relationship between the two was. A woman ordering a man around so openly? It wasn't anything like she'd seen before...

"I have one last piece of advice for you, Miss Schnee." He began to march forward, his cane swinging with a bit more speed and energy than it had before. "Hide your identity. If you truly wish to experience the world outside for what it is, you may want to see it through the eyes of the average woman. The world may not be ready for the great Weiss Schnee inside of a jazz club."

"Y-yes, Professor. I'll keep that in mind..."

And without another word, he bid her a silent goodbye. He left her behind as Weiss struggled to understand what had happened. Her azure eyes glanced to the slip of paper between her fingers. She read the word placed above the address.

"Beacon?"

That led her here.

That led her to wear a dress she hadn't worn in years, a white, chemise dress that hung from her shoulders, just past her knees. A white dress with a azure rim that brought out the color in her eyes, at least that's what the servants said it did. A similar coat wrapped around her petite body, keeping her body warm under the cold, night wind. Her heels tapped against the concrete floor as Port bid her goodbye, driving off with a wave of his hand and a smile on his face. She wore dark blue, almost black heels on her feet, beautiful in appearance, but practical in design, made of a hardly damaged leather build.

Finally, there was the most important feature of her disguise. Her hat and wig. The hat was a cloche, simple, slightly off-white, and soft to the touch. A cyan ribbon wrapped itself around the fabric, adding a bit of color to the monochrome design. It held onto her head slightly tighter than she'd prefer, but a needed sacrifice.

If the ruffians and barbarians inside saw it slip from her head, they'd be all over her, begging for cash and the chance to work for her family. She'd rather avoid that all together.

Her long, white locks were hidden beneath the hat, with a raven-colored wig between her albino locks and the cloche. It wasn't perfect, it would have to do.

The only evidence that she was Weiss Schnee was her pale, almost porcelain-like skin, and her royal blue eyes.

The doors to the goods store stood in front of her were completely still, made of a cheap, dark wood that had the nicks and scratches that years of existence would give. She swallowed the lump down her throat and pinched her index finger with her other hand. There was no going back now...

Ozpin wouldn't have sent you out here to die. It's going to be okay. She plastered a smile onto her face, only to wipe it clean. She closed her eyes and let out a steady breath. Another grin pasted itself onto her face as she walked towards the door. As she walked forward, her eyes caught the sign on the left door. It hung from a single, rusted nail on the wall.

Welcome to Beacon Goods and Provisions. A light in the dark.

END

What to say about this story...? Well, I hope it was good. I hope you enjoyed it, reader. I hope you feel I caught the characters' personalities well, and if you disagree, tell me! I love constructive criticism.

Most of my fans probably know me for my work as a Lancaster writer. I will say, this story will focus more on Cool Jazz (Weiss X Flynt), but hey, Jaune and Ruby will be supporting characters and I can definitely say they'll have scenes together, with some love for them in the back. This story will also be more serious than the cute romantic comedies I've written earlier.

I also wanted to make Whittaker Schnee less of a 'purely evil' character. He's not some scumbag who beats his kids at the drop of a hat. He has redeeming qualities. I wanted a bit more complexity to him. Hopefully you enjoy my take on him!

Please, leave a review or add a favorite if you enjoyed this story. Maybe follow it? I love feedback, and I love you! As a friend. But I digress. I hope you enjoyed this story and have a great day.

The chapter title is from 'They Say It's Wonderful,' by Frank Sinastra! Pretty much all the chapters will be named after a song. I love it when chapter titles have themes. I own none of the music or characters.