A/N: I know it's been a bit, but hey... that's life.

I actually have a song recommendation, and this one ISN'T CRINGE! I listened to the Negative Harmony cover of Somewhere Over The Rainbow by Steve Cruickshank a lot while writing this. (Not that it's necessarily related to chapter's contents, but...) It is beautifully depressing in a fully unique way. It entirely embodies the phrase 'hopelessly hoping.' And it goes along with RWBY's Wizard of Oz theme.

Oh, actually, there is some things I want to say:

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE IN WHICH A CHARACTER EXPRESSES FEELINGS OF HOMOPHOBIA AND RACISM. I do NOT support homophobia or any form of racism. Obviously.

[RANT DELETED]

Here is Chapter 5 of Kill Them With Kindness!

EDIT: My writing here is apparently confusing, so: SPOILER: There is a Jaune mentioned in this chapter that is not 'our' Jaune: instead it's his grandfather. More on this in the post-story A/N

"From my own childhood, I best remember the taste of sugared bread. It was the only thing that could be called a 'gift' that was given to me by my father. On the day I was born, every year, he presented to my a round of the sweet stuff. He'd light a small candle in it, as a reference to the God of Light, and smother it in a thin layer of molasses in reference to the God of Dark. It was very delicious for the normally half-starved younger me. My father obsessed over keeping me alive. My mother, bless her, had died when I was only two years of age and from then on out he... well he never could deal with loss. He locked me in a high tower.

"Ozma would then come to save me one day and... well, the rest is, as they say now, history. Ozma is- was -a good man at his core. I do not... fully hate him. I hate what he has done, but... not him in his entirety. There is good in him. Good intentions, emotions, humanity. It's just that he... doesn't see the forest for the trees. So obsessed with individuals he would forsake the world in its whole to save a handful of good men.

"He is a fool. But his servants... I pity them."

Salem slowly descended the stone staircase, lightly stomping towards her chosen destination, in no hurry at all to get there, and at the same time, never faltering in her path. She had a very specific corpse she wanted to... reinvigorate. The hallway before her stretched on for quite some distance, various doors lining either side leading into various freezers in which she kept various things ranging from cooking supplies to petrified grimm. But there was one special freezer, at the very end of the hall, that held the most important piece of her... collection.

A silver-eyed warrior.

Summer Rose.

The door creaked open, and she walked into the chilled room. The temperature in here was minus eighty degrees Celsius, the room was truly freezing. The cold could pierce a man to the bone within seconds, but Salem cared not at all. She enjoyed the feeling of it, cool and crisp. Especially when she saw the still fresh corpse staying on the table in the center.

Summer Rose had perished 'tragically' in an attempt on Salem's life. It had been foolish, and the girl- and thus Ozma -knew it was likely to fail. No doubt that it wasn't truly meant to be on Salem herself, likely there was an ulterior motive. Ozma must have wanted her distracted... but for what? Summer rushing towards her castle and home like she did had truly been a shock, and if he had intended it as a distraction, it had most surely worked. Except, well, Summer had died. Maybe he thought it was okay to risk her after she gave birth to Ruby? As long as there was one...

Salem delicately lifted the corpse from its resting place to carry it up the stairs and towards the fountains. The body was stiff and it stank of rot and bodily fluids. Despite the temperature, it seems that poor Summer's corpse had begun to decompose to some extent, luckily not her eyes. No, it was mostly her internal organs that had begun to molder and reek. Her soul still remained in her body, though. It had been sealed in there by Salem's magic, trapped so as to keep the possibility of revival 'in the cards' so to speak. The corpse was actually surprisingly light, barely weighing anything to Salem. The trek to the fountains would not be as difficult as she had presupposed. It did, however, take some time, as they were located quite far away from the freezers.

Eventually, though, she reached them. She stood above the Pool of Creation, which had emptied quite a bit since she'd first dipped in her darling Ozymandias. Only a tenth of what it was then. But there was enough to bring back poor Summer. So it was that Salem dipped the frozen body into the warm waters of life. She held Summer under the surface for much longer than she did for any of her children, as none had been dead for that long. Except for Gretchen, who was also kept underwater for quite some time during her rebirth. In fact, Salem kept Summer under long enough for the woman's eyelids to begin to flutter, and then- abruptly -for her to get up.

She gasped air before looking up and seemingly thanking the gods for their benevolence in letting her live. Of course, she quickly stopped thanking them the moment her eyes landed on Salem's smiling form, looking down upon her. Her mouth moved to open and speak, but nary a sound came out, apparently her vocal chords were stiff after a decade in cold storage. Who would've guessed.

"Ahhh, so many questions must be bouncing around in that head of yours. I am sure that you are confused. Let me explain," Salem said as she kneeled down to about Summer's level, still keeping the same loving smile stretched across her face, "You are not, as many would view it… alive. You died. Your corpse was nearly torn apart by Grimm. But this. This is your second, true calling. Through the power of creation, and the essence of destruction, you will be reborn. Rejoice, Summer. Look up, little rose, my silver eyed warrior, for there is so much to do."

Salem leaned in, closer and closer to her face. The black of her eyes consumed what little there was of her red-dot irises, until void filled those pits in her skull. Her mouth stretched its grin wider, wider, wider; splitting her face as more and more teeth were revealed to the- now former -huntress. Summer moved backwards to get away, though it seemed it was quite unsuccessful.

And then Salem's mouth opened, and Summer felt herself falling into a pool of dark.

"Run, my dearest sister."

.

.

Ā̴̛̞̫͚͎͉̦̳̳͍̬̌̿̐̇͌̿̒̌̎͜n̵̡̜̞̣̲̲̭̩̣̏̐̾́̓̎̉̂͆̊̅͜͜d̵͙͚͈͉͖̝̤̩̯͚̞̺̗̂̽̿̌̑̏̾̓̎̔͐͊̈́͊͝͠ͅ ̵̢̯̜̤̩̜̯̮̟̤͕̮͉͕̐̌͊̽́͊́̑̇̐̕f̷̄̑̊̏̆̀͆͆̽͆̂̀̔̈́͜͝͠i̴̛̭̱͉̥̣͙͖̳̠̗̯̪͊̈́̓͊̒̄͒̏̇͋͆̾̚ͅl̵̢̩̠̣̥͍̦̬̜̞͙̦̦̲̂̄̆̉͑͗͜ͅl̶̛͔̤̜̯̰̭͓̠͓̣͙̥̊̉̐̈̄͒̈́̐͛͠ ̵̮̪͚̂͆͒̐͌̒́͘͝t̸̢̢̢̮̝̗͖̞̺̖̗͈̱͒͜ͅͅḧ̷͚̰͕̫̩̬̺͓̠̓͜e̴̱̒̆̏̓̓̽͐͘͝͝͝͠͝ͅ ̵̧̛͚̼̙̦͇͓̘̄͌̉͊̑͂̒̄̍̇͊̚̚̚ẅ̷̧̥͔͎o̶̧̺̠̳̪͙̣͎͔̪̩̺͑̎̐̍̔͑͂̆̽ͅr̴̢̧̢̧̲̝͓̣̻̳̯̳͈̞̒̎̀͑̾͑̔̆̏̾̋ͅl̷̛͉͙̹̈́̀̔̐͛̃̐̿̃̏̚͘͜͠͝d̵̢̨̬͇̹̺͚͍̱̜͕̻͔̲͇̾ ̴̝͖̪̻̞̘͖͔͉̏͛̾̊̅͋̆̎̚w̴̡̡̞̺̖̟̪̙͇̼͈̼̥͋̏̔̈̾̂̐̄̃̈́̚͜͝î̸̫̩͙͕͎̩̳̯͚͙̩̉̐̾́̓́̑̊̂̅̽̐̓͘̚t̶̲͎̳̭̘̿̏̅̾͐̑̅̃͘h̷̢̭́̿ͅ ̶͍̀̾͋͂̓̀͗̌͐͂̕͠t̶̨͕͓̞̠͕̫̳̫̗̹̦̀̍e̸̢͇͔̣͍̟͕̹̯̬͋̒̈́͛͑͋̐̅ę̴̺̤̙̼͙̺̹̥̀̒́̎͜͝ͅͅt̷̢̟͍͙̲̳̯̗̯̩͑͋̅̅̉̍́͗̈́̃͛ͅh̶̯̞̹͙̩̀̒̆̋̔̍̍̄̑͋̿͆

.

.

Black

That was all that she could see. She was in a lake of some sort. But the water, if it was water, was like molasses. Thick, slow, smothering. She grasped blindly for something- someone -to grab her; to save her; to let her live.

She broke the surface, and it was calm. Calm as could be. Not a sound at all.

Golden light shone upon her as she pulled herself up. She was naked; bare as the day she was born, except for a locket around her neck. She held it for a moment, and warmth flooded through her. The locket opened. Inside the golden heart, the face of the woman- Salem -stared back with joy, along with a darling group of smiling kids. They seemed so sweet looking. So lovable. She looked up and around herself. Now, standing there, where once was nothing, were two men. One was a man of black smoke, and another of white light. Horns adorned their heads, and they looked on at her with blank faces. Knives raised. They moved down on her with haste and- glee? fear? -as they bared their claws and fangs and knives and fists in a wild frenzy that swept her backwards in panic.

With each strike they took, the locket blocked and reflected it back. Faster and faster they attacked; slowly and surely their forms shifted to that of two draconian beasts. Higher and higher their frenzy rose; angrier and wickeder they grew.

But the locket kept her safe.

They had dropped their blades now. Their forms could no longer grasp them. But she could. She took them from the floor, the locket being her guard as she did so.

And she stabbed them.

They stopped, and reverted to the two men- if you could call those things men -and stared back at her. They started to rot. Their cosmic, fluxic bodies fell apart. Light and dark flowed from their corpses, growing in intensity. Until Summer no longer saw.

She was awake again. She saw. She floated above a vast and inverse sun, and above her dark waters flowed. Chains fell from the water and dangled above her limply.

She flew unchained beneath eternity.

In her hand was a dove. It fluttered around, asking to escape. Fighting her. She held. Others surrounded her. Those who had died in her life.

They, too, flew unbound…

She saw a boy she met when she was five. Jake? Jack? Nate? She forgot his name.

Because the boy was only a dead thing. Only dust now. Same? No. Not the same as she.

The boy released his dove to fly unto the twisted star. Freely it flew, swiftly it flew. His body melted to dust; the look of bliss upon his face.

Dead thing…

Summer clutched her dove. It flew and fought to be let loose, but she gripped it harder. Harder. Harder.

And it died.

The world shifted, her dove was no more. It was a piece of meat- sweet flesh -red and sickly in her grasp. The people were now all rotten things; corpses of what once were living. The chains… they were hands. Pale, dark-veined hands reaching and reaching for her. They grasped the bodies and rended flesh from their cold and molding visages. The once-dove looked delicious, now, with her new eyes; felt good in her new hands; smelled good to her new nose. She opened her maw and let out her tongue, so long and slick, wrapping it around the piece of sweetflesh in her hold. With a click and a savour, it was gone. No more. Razor teeth rendered it to naught.

And she grasped the reaching hands.

They pulled her above the inverse sun she floated so far above and yet so close to, pulling her to the abyssal flow. She was sinking. She should swim ba- NO!

Not now. Let the current take her, let Salem's- sister's -hands pull her ashore. To safety. For she was her sibling; the one who would help raise those gorgeous children. So much was to be done. So many sweets to eat. So many claws to tear with; so many teeth to rend with; so many blades to cut with.

And so, so many to be slaughtered. There truly was...

.

s̷̢̨̳̗̩̪̘̩͒̔͑̔̔ȍ̶͚̜̏̃͒̂́̀́̉ ̶͖͈̾m̴̨̘̯͖̯̩͔̱̪̞̜̗̽̔̋̐̊́́̇̃̏ṷ̴̾̀̄̈̐ͅc̴̝̞̳̞͙̹̠̼̝͉̤̦̳̿͛̐̊́̽͠h̷̙̯̊̈́̀̂̈́͊ ̸̢̡̪̥̻͚̘̝̤̱̘͉̤͊͛̃̑̚͠͠ĺ̵͖̭͔̭̄̐͛͌̊͘̕e̷̜͛̔̋͌̀́̓̈́͠͠f̸̫͈͔̮͓̗̃͛̔̚t̴̯̟̦̪͍̟͖̗̲̀͗͗̀̓̂͒̕͝͝ ̸̧̮̠̱̤̭͕̤̌͂̔͑͛̎͘͠͝t̴̨̛͔̖͓̺͍̞̤͎̺̞͖̺̉͑̈̌̊͆͆͂͝o̴̝̊̌̑̎̆̉́̒͌̿̕ ̵̨̨͉̹̦͕̬̼͍̹͉͎̒̅͌ͅͅb̴̻͉̣̞̙̝̦̹͕̂̂̚͝ͅủ̶̢̧̞̩͍͙͙͇̜̳̝̊͜͜r̸̢̧͙͉̼̪̭̼̿̀͊̊̒̚̚͝ṇ̷̢̙͓͔̣̘̖̼͚̯̱͖̬̐͊

.

.

Summer burst past the surface of the Pool of Destruction, her arms violently grasping for the edge, before slowly pulling herself up. Gods, she was thankful to be alive... that dream was so strange. Something was off; something was different. It was as if there were fingertips on the surface of her mind, the hand they belonged to sifting through all she was and plucking out the pieces it didn't like. She was Summer Rose, she knew, but she also knew she was most definitely not the Summer Rose in her foggy memories. Taiyang... he was... was... Someone important.

Her husband.

Oh gods. She had almost forgotten. She had almost...

"My my my. Out so soon?" A voice from above her spoke, a soft giggle coming from whoever it was, "Do you still have questions, oh sister mine?"

Summer most certainly had questions. Many questions. But only one ruled above the rest, one thought she needed quenched:

"Where are my kids?"

Yang marched through the city of Vale with wonder in her eyes, even if she tried to suppress it. She couldn't help herself! There was so much to see and SO MANY RESTAURANTS! Meat, noodles, and sweet sauce for as far as the eye can see! While not the heaviest eater amongst her siblings, she was the one most inclined towards human cuisine, and not cuisine MADE of human. Why was this the case? She didn't really know. Nobody knew, it was just a mystery of grimm hybrid anatomy. Sometimes stuff just happened for reasons undetectable.

As it was, she lead the group by a decent margin, with Weiss- ahem, Willow -following in second, and the rest of the group sticking together a few meters behind. They were making their way towards Beacon Academy, one of, if not the, best huntsmen academies in all of Remnant. While not as technically inclined as Atlas, or as stylistically focused as Haven, nor was it as flexible and self-styled as the teaching at Shade, it was a solid mix of all of them, and offered a much more rigorous course selection. The teachers there were also some of the best in the world for their fields. If not, then they were flat out the best in what they did. Ozpin, the headmaster, was considered the strongest huntsman of the current era.

And also the current incarnation of Ozma, their mother's- and by extension, their -most hated enemy. He had caused more harm to this world, than any other in history. Even considering Salem, since his actions are in part to blame for her own, has not been as detrimental to humanity as he. Just thinking of him... it got Yang- er, Selene -angry. Him and Taiyang. She didn't loathe Taiyang as much as she just couldn't stand his personality. Easy going, laissez faire attitude, disregard of duty in the face of simple or petty emotions; he was just... comparable to a worm for Selene. Someone who crawled through life pretending to be strong, but never showing it or using it when it mattered. He'd get his wake-up call, though. Soon enough...

"Selene, what's the matter? You seem... hung up on something." A calm voice came from her right, as a hand fell on her shoulder, "You should know, we're nearly to Beacon. It's only a few more minutes until we reach the start of the campus."

The voice soothed her, somewhat, though it proved best at simply pushing the thought from her head. Soon enough, they would be at Beacon, and the start of humanity's fall would begin. Additionally, she had word that Emerald had made it to Vale, successfully meeting up with a few... associates ...that would help them with their mission. Mostly without knowing what that mission was, but...

"I'm fine, Ozy." She replied, smiling lightly, "I just have... a lot to think on. But I'll get through!"

Her voice became boisterous and triumphant towards the end, her stature following suite as she stood up proudly, buffing out her chest. She was a creature of immense pride, at the end of the day. She disliked showing any weakness to anyone, even her siblings. Jaune patted her shoulder a few times, smiling as he did so, before removing his hand and keeping pace with her.

Life was looking up for her family, and soon it would all bloom into a beautiful conclusion. She couldn't wait, for the day that her mother's final vision came to fruition.

And it all started with her, and her siblings, right here at Beacon.

How exciting.

A man rushed through the muck, boots sinking into the semi-soft sludge and ash as he ran for cover. Sounds blared around him, and toxic smog wafted across the battlefield. Cords of spiked metal- barbed wire, they called it -marred his path towards an enemy embankment. He was out of dust, out of rounds, and out of luck it seemed. He dropped into the pit-like trench, easily ten feet deep at the lowest, and began to rush through the man-made labyrinth.

He burst around a corner, and drew his sword, sinking it into a Mantlean soldier, her last words barely a gurgle as she collapsed to the floor. Two more opened fire on him, their guns lighting up the trench in the evening's strengthening shade. His shield went up, blocking as much as he could with it while his Aura absorbed the rest. He got in close and took a stab at them. The first soldier didn't even try to dodge, relying purely on Aura.

Wrong choice, considering he was facing an Arc!

The man activated his famous semblance, destroying his own Aura, and causing the Aura's of the two soldier to burst simultaneously. His blade cleaved through the first, and his fist, then foot, connected with the second. Mere moments later, and he would be done with them. But the soldier was a burly son-of-a-bitch, and kicked the sword on to the ground. The Valean warrior descended on him, breaking past the man's defenses and getting a stranglehold on him. Flying machines whizzed overhead, but he cared little. The man beneath him just wasn't dying! The explosive rumbles of a bomb impacting the earth was the only warning he had before a bright light encompassed his vision.

"Get...him! Get off...! Get off him! He's-"

"Get off him! He's choking! Jaune get off!"

The man relinquished his grip as the white light dissipated. He was kneeling in what appeared to be a small kitchen, the dust-powered stove to his left clearly in the middle of baking something. Some sort of bird... chicken? Turkey? It seemed somewhere between those. Maybe duck?

Beneath him was a coughing, blonde-haired boy in a plaid shirt scrambling to get away.

"What the hell!" A man shouted to his right, "The hell were you doing!"

The man kneeling on the floor was still dazed, looking about. The ground was littered with... sawdust? And small, white packages. Popping fireworks. It was Victory Day. The war ended on this day, exactly forty-five years ago. God damnit. It happened again.

"I did it again." He mumbled, "Julianne, I am so sorry."

His voice was coarse, years of smoking had taken their toll on the old soldier. Well, the smoking and the horrors of the Mantlean War. 'The War to End them All.' Yeah, right. War... war never changes. And it never goes away. The man may have left it, but it hadn't left him. Those visions... so clear, he-...

"Get out." The other man growled, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him up, "Out. I want to know what the hell that was. You promised me..."

Jaune couldn't do anything but comply, walking out the front door and down to his car. Popping the door open, he leaned in and unlatched the compartment. Inside, an unopened package of Carmel cigarettes sat, but he reached behind it. He didn't want that filtered shit they had nowadays. This called for something hard.

"'Better For You' my ass. It's just a ploy to sell pussy ass cigarettes. Damn shitty- aww, there we are." He mumbled, finally fishing out what he desired.

He smiled as he looked down at the worn packet; the rough, yellowed face of it reading: Ration K - Cig. L.L. 10-1 He tore the wrapper off, letting the half-century old paper fall to the ground.

"'Lucky Light Means Good Tobacco.' Damn straight. Now that is honest advertising." The man mumbled, placing the smoke in the corner of his mouth and lighting up.

A soft creak came from behind him, before the sound of a door closing followed. Footsteps on gravel rung out in the quiet that permeated the earth in the now fading light of evening. He knew his son was standing there. He knew it, but he didn't react to it. He breathed in, letting the smoke rest in his lungs before exhaling and watching it mix with the fog of his breath in the cold winter air. Victory Day was upon them, they day he could go home all those years ago to a loving wife and a chance at having a family. Soon, it would be the Solstice Celebration, giving gifts and such. Just a few weeks. What should he get...

"I know you're ignoring me, you old ass. What the hell happened back there?"

He sighed, before taking one last drag on his cigarette, tossing the stub onto the ground and stomping it out, rubbing it into the dirt to make sure. It took another moment before he turned to his son, before he built up the resolve to swallow his pirde.

"I'm going senile is what, Justice. Fucking visions in my head of that blasted war, and that firecracker your boy had set me off. I'd never-"

"You'd never treat him like you did for me? Or how your brother treated cousin John? 'Cause I don't want him turning out like John."

The old man sighed again, though this time out of exasperation.

"Not this again..." He mumbled, taking another cigarette out of its carton and lighting it, watching the crisp smoke float up in the frigid air, and noting the taste of ash in his mouth. It really took him back to the days he... well...

Justice Arc raised his hands at this, widely gesturing as he stepped back a bit.

"This again?' What the fuck do you mean 'this again'?" He said, his voice quickly rising, "I feel, as his father, that I am in the right to not want my son to be a faggot! I didn't raise a queer!"

"No, you surely didn't." The man's father replied, voice fumbled as he spoke with the smoke hanging out the corner of his mouth, "I know that."

Justice paused, and silence hung in the tense air. He stared at his father with a strange look, a mix of confusion and hurt. Jaune just continued to breath in and out, letting the nicotine calm his nerves.

"What do you know, that I don't?" Justice asked, his voice both quiet and tense.

"I know he fancies a girl. I know which girl it is, Justice, and-"

"Who the hell?! I've never heard him mention liking a single fuckin' woman to me, not one girl in his class; not one in his whole damn school did he like. I asked him about damn near every one of them! Tell me that don't sound queer to you?!"

His father just looked coldly for a moment, letting another stub hit the ground, quashing it before he grit out a single, mumbled sentence.

"She doesn't go to his school."

Justice stopped to ponder that one. What did that mean? There was only one school in this tiny town. Population was barely six thousand all counted up. Except if you counted-... His eyes widened suddenly, before narrowing dangerously as a scowl overtook his face.

"He likes that faunus bitch, doesn't he! Jezebel was her name, right? Fuckin' animal lovin' piece a shit!" Justice looked as if he was gonna blow a gasket at this, "I'm gonna go up there and teach him a lesson about fuckin' dogs: we don't accept a bit of that around-"

"SHUT, the hell, UP!" The older man screamed, "I fought in that war so that those faunus could have a better life! I fought for freedom, for hope! And you would go and speak like that?! My good buddy, the man who sacrificed himself to save my life was a faunus. The girl's name is Isabelle, and he has a right to love who he wants to."

Justice was frozen at that, as if he'd just heard the most reprehensible thing ever muttered. The concept seemed so foreign to him, that his father would support his son, that it had broken him for a moment. But, unfortunately, it was only a moment.

"What. The. Hell." He grit out, "You'd support that boy making love with a damn u-"

"Don't you dare say that!"

"What? She's just a stupid-"

*SLAP*

Justice recoiled as his father's hand landed against his cheek, entirely shocked at what had just transpired.

"I have no idea how you got those thoughts in your head." The man shouted, walking towards his car, "I thought I raised you better!"

Justice had a fire lit in his eyes, body tensed and raring to go and fight. He looked near insane in the red-tinged light.

"Raised me?! You!? Fuck you for even mentioning raising me! 'Cause you didn't! That, that shit you did back there, was my childhood. You didn't speak to me 'cept to scold my sorry ass for something so minor-... You don't get to pull that card! I let you back into my life because you promised you wouldn't do that." He shouted, gesturing violently as he did so, "I will raise my boy as I choose to. Those... creatures ...won't come near him. He won't fuck dogs! And I'll say whatever I so damn please!"

"I gave you a good life. I worked everyday to give you anything you wanted. I'm sorry you saw me... in those moments ...but- and I can't emphasize this enough -I have always let you choose who you loved, who you made friends with. I did so, letting you do as you wished, because I never got that." Jaune said, tears rolling down his face, "And I'll make sure my grandson will have that, too. Because, and this is more important than anything else you'll ever hear:

"Love is sacred, in all its forms. And we all have too short a life to waste time avoiding it. All things end, so we should enjoy them." Julianne muttered, starring at the small grave before him.

It had been a few years since his son had been pronounced dead. After a three month search, and two years of putting up notices, Jaune Arc was proclaimed dead after a hunter had found his, reportedly, heavily desiccated and irretrievable corpse in a Beowulf den. Some man named 'Crow' apparently. They'd- he and his, now, ex-wife and daughters -had held a small funeral for him. It had been quiet. Somber. And it had been the last straw for his marriage. He and his wife had separated peacefully, and he would then remain single for a short while before... he met back up with her. Isabelle was-

The sound of a small motor whirring, and the accompanying sound of pebbles crunching under wheels alerted him that a certain someone had come to see him for the first time in a long time, inevitably- invariably -choosing the worst possible time.

"Mourning my grandson, dogfucker?" The man, Justice Arc, said as he rolled up in his wheelchair, "You even brought the bitch out for a walk, huh? You know this place is on-leash only, right?"

Julianne grit his teeth as his second wife tensed up, squeezing his hand.

"He isn't worth it. Let's get out of here." She whispered, tugging on his jacket, "Besides, my tail is cold."

He'd take her advice this time. His old man wasn't worth it.

"You know, your grandfather would hate that you named a failure like that after him."

But then again...

"You never knew Jaune: not your father, nor my son. He'd feel compassion for a father who's lost a child. You... I don't think you know anything but your foolish, backwards ways. Goodbye."

"Boy..." A mumbled call rung out in the Autumn air, soft as a whisper, "Son..."

Julianne turned towards his father, before gesturing for his second wife to head towards their car, much to her begrudging acceptance.

"You called, old man?" He said, "Dad?"

Justice looked up from his seat, staring his son in the face with tears in his eyes.

"I fucked up. A lot. My life is filled with... many poor choices. Some I... regret. Others... not so much. But with you, I know I failed and I spend so many nights-... I won't say I was wrong, with what I said, but-... I will apologize for saying it. Your my oldest- and now only -son. My story is coming to a close, and you are the one loose end I want to tie up." He said, nearly whispering with sadness on the edge of his voice, tainting it with melancholy, "I'm-... I'm sorry. For everything. I was... I planned-... There's..."

His voice broke down into sobs, his hand grabbing his son's.

"Just-... Just-...Julianne, I think Jaune would be proud of you. For so many reasons, I think he'd be more proud of you than he ever was for me. When I... pass ...I want you to burn me. Ashes. I don't- I don't want to be buried here. And... talk to your sister more for me, please. I... she hasn't taken your brother's death well. This family is cursed, so staying is.. beyond important."

Julianne didn't know what to say, simply nodding to his father's request, voicing only his acceptance of it and nothing else. 'Yes' and 'Of course' but nothing meaningful. This was...

It felt... strange. This was... something. It was...

closure.

After all these years; closure. He...

A few tearful goodbyes later, and a short walk back, he assisted his father to the bus stop, he was headed back to his own car, and his future. You don't 'get over' the loss of a child; you don't 'get over' many things. You have to learn how to live again. Every day, he felt he was closer to completing that goal. But sometimes... sometimes he felt as if that story wasn't finished. He swears... that he can feel Jaune out there. Helpless. Waiting. His rational side knows better, but he still sought closure.

Today was a day filled with closure. He was remarried. His relationship with his kids was... sound. He hadn't visited Jaune's grave for a few months before now. And now his father...

Maybe he should heed the old man's advice and call his sister...

"What did he have to say?" Isabelle asked, standing near their car in her long coat.

"Everything. He... apologized for everything."

He got in the car, before she followed after, entering the passenger side. It was quiet for a few minutes, as he pulled out of the parking lot and started towards their home.

"How'd that feel?" His wife asked, careful not to provoke any possible bad feelings.

"It felt...

"Liberating."

A/N:

So, no action today. I know, I know: I'm boring AF.

Well, this is the ACTUAL (probably) LAST CHAPTER OF MOSTLY BACKGROUND INFO AND CHARACTER EXPLORATION! After this, we get an exciting spin on the Beacon entry test, this time with higher stakes and more complex tasks! Though, with the same core as canon's.

Anyway, I just wanted to point out, for those who are possibly confused, Jaune Arc in those last few chapters (the one that interacts with Julianne and Justice) is our boy Jaune's great grandfather. Justice is his grandfather, and Julianne is his father. Yes, it's pronounced just like Julian, I just wanted to spell it weird.

EDIT: I know that in RWBY Jaune's great great grandfather fought in the Great War, and it is intentional that Jaune the Elder is only Ozymandias's great grandfather. This is because, as I mentioned in a previous chapter, there was two major wars fought in this universe, similar to our own WWI and WWII. Jaune the Elder's father was also a veteran, but he fought in the first Great War, while Jaune the Elder fought in the second (and I implied that he fought in the Faunus Rights Revolution as well). Sorry for the confusion.

Also, Isabelle, a dog faunus? Of course I had to.

REVIEW AND FAVORITE, PLEASE!