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superfrostydrawing · 2 months

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Broken Machines: Between The Shadows

Chapter 11: Talk To Me

Penny: I’m sorry but could you repeat that?

Penny asked, sitting upright in her bed. She had just woken up and hadn’t even gotten out of bed to wash up yet, pajamas and fluffy bedhead evidence to this as she stares intently at her scroll while on a video call with her boyfriend. Said boyfriend sighs softly before repeating his statement as instructed.

Whitley: My father forced me on a dinner date so he could a campaign donation out of the girl’s father.

He says matter of factly, knowing there was no real way to sugarcoat that information.

Penny: I see, that's what I thought you said….…WHAT!

She screams, absolutely outraged by what she just heard! Penny already had a low opinion of Jacques Schnee for his personality, actions, and overall demeanor. Truly there was no one Penny thought worse than him and yet every time she heard more about him her disdain for him grew. She wouldn’t say she hated him really, that was too strong of a word, but her patience for the crooked businessman was wearing thinner by the day.

Penny: What is wrong with him!!! How could he do that without your permission?!

Whitley: He’s a schemer, he’ll use any and every tool at his disposal to get what he wants. The girl wanted time with me, and her father had something my father wanted, so he made it happen.

Penny: But you’re his son, his biological family!

Whitley: And both titles are not mutually exclusive. At least in my case.

He states completely nonchalantly as per usual, acting utterly unaffected by the disrespect he’d received from his primary parental figure. Penny’s about to argue but can feel a hiccup coming on. She knows that a person could be both someone’s child and a tool in various ways, she herself was that by definition. Growing frustrated, Penny sighed and moved on to the other thing that was bothering her about this situation.

Penny: So, who was it?

Whitley: Hmm?

Penny: Who did you have to have dinner with?

Whitley: I’m not sure I should tell you that.

Penny: Wha? Why?!

Whitley: Penny, darling, you are a wonderful and caring person. Truly one of the most, if not the most, lovable people I have ever met. Buy my dear you are also very very strong and very emotional.

Penny: And? What are you implying?

Whitley: I’m just saying that telling you the name of the girl with that high of an interest in me might not be the safest thing. I mean you’ve taken down full-grown men with ease; I don’t want to think about what would happen to a teenage girl if she got on your warpath.

He jokes. honestly Whitley knew Penny wasn’t the type to respond to jealousy with rage but talking around the situation was the best way he could think of to soften the blow.

Penny: So, you think I would hurt her?

Whitley: No, but it’s best to not tempt fate.

Penny: Whitley!!!

Whitley: Okay, okay I’ll tell you. Do you remember Octavia’s little “friend group.”

Penny: Yeah?

Whitley: It was one of those girls, Seraphina actually.

Penny: Seraphina…That Seraphina!

Penny’s eyes go wide, a hot ball of fury blooming in her stomach. Out of all the ill-behaved girls in that group it had to be the most vulgar of them. Recalling how causally and thoughtlessly Seraphina had sexualized Whitley the first and only time she’d spoken with her, Penny felt a tinge of worry overlapping with her anger.

Penny: Did…did she do anything?

Whitley: Pardon?

Penny: Did she do anything to you? Anything…inappropriate?

She asks her voice soft and full of sincerity. Penny didn’t want to think of the worst-case scenario but knowing how Seraphina viewed Whitley and how little control he likely had in the situation she couldn’t help it. Sensing her concern, Whitley decides to stop with the games and clear the air before she gets carried away in the what-ifs.

Whitley: There were attempts of flirting and touching, she even followed me to the bathroom-

Penny: (gasps)

Whitley: -But! That was it. I managed to keep her at bay for whole the night without causing a scene. Nothing happened.

Penny: Really?

Whitley: Yes.

Penny: Okay.

Letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding Penny felt the ball of rage deflate as relief washed over her. Her heart was still pounding but her mind felt at ease that the worst-case scenario hadn’t taken place. Seeing the calm expression blooming on Penny’s face Whitley decides that now is the time to reveal his surprise.

Whitley: But I must admit, I don’t make it through the night myself.

Penny: Huh?

Whitley: I had a little help from some…unexpected friends.

He chuckles and then explains how he ran into Esther and Octavio and recruited their assistance during dinner.

Whitley: There was only one thing they wanted in exchange.

Penny: And that was?

He doesn’t answer, but soon a text message notification from his number pings on Penny’s scroll. Opening it she finds two mobile numbers, one for Esther and one for Octavia. Penny’s eyes widen in confusion on delight as her gaze shifts between the message and the video-fed of Whitley, who was casually smiling at her through the screen. His night of struggling to maintain his dignity and chastity had paid off well.

Whitley: They’ve been looking for you for a while and I promised to give you their contact info if I got the chance. It’s up to you whether or not to use it.

Penny: I…thank you, Whitley!

Whitley: No problem, dear. Now I have to get back to work.

Penny: On a Sunday?

Whitley: The dinner interrupted me from finishing up something I needed to get done so I could come see you today.

Penny: Oh, so…no date this week?

Whitley: No.

Penny pouts, this wasn’t uncommon given Whitley’s packed schedule but the reason behind this week’s derailment had her feeling a bit miffed. How unfair that a brat like Seraphina got to go on a date with Whitley when she, his own girlfriend, couldn’t without the right timing and lots of planning! All because her dad had the money to buy his time off of Jacques!

Penny: Hmmm.

She grumbles, Whitley chuckles at her adorable sour face.

Whitley: I know but look on the bright side. You have two lovely little lady friends to keep you company in my stead.

Penny: That true, but it still doesn’t make me miss you less.

Whitley: Me either, I’ll call again tonight. Love you.

Penny: Love you too!

They both blow each other a kiss and the call soon disconnects leaving Penny all alone in her room once more. Looks over to her closet to stare at the outfit she’d picked out earlier in the week in case of a last-minute date and sighs.

Penny: It’s been hanging up there for a few days; it feels kind of wasteful to just put it back.

She muses somberly, with her day off now open the outfit had no purpose. It was a shame as she tried to experiment a little, pairing a long yellow cardigan with a blue dress with white polka dots and fastening the matching belt around the waistline. She’d even walked around in her yellow boots a bit every night to break them in so they could be added to the look. Now there was no reason to even put it on.

Penny: Maybe I should just go spend the day with someone? Be who?

Her options without Whitley were not great, Team FUNKI was still practicing for their upcoming concert, Uncle James was always buried in work, and Winter practical went missing in action whenever she wasn’t on duty. In fact, the only person she knew was free and go somewhere was-

Penny: Wait.

Penny sits upright and jumps out of bed; she puts on her slippers then rushes out her bedroom. Jogging down the stairs and heading to the kitchen, she finds her dad making breakfast. Hearing her coming Pietro looks up from his skillet to greet her.

Pietro: Morning Sweetpea!

Penny: Morning Dad!

She chirps before rushing up to him and giving him a soft tackle hug.

Penny: What’s for breakfast?

Pietro: Just eggs and bacon, we’re outta pancake mix.

Penny: Yeah, and a lot of other stuff too. That’s why you’re going shopping today, right?

Pietro: Yup!

Penny: Can I come with you?

That gives the old man some pause. Now Pietro knew about his daughter’s relationship and how she acted when it was time to see her little bae so this sudden shift in plans meant something must have happened. So, he calls her on it.

Pietro: What about your date?

Penny: It…got canceled.

She says trying not to huff again in frustration. Seeing her pout makes Pietro chuckle as he presses on.

Pietro: Well, what happened there?

Penny: Jacques happened.

Pietro: Oooooh.

Penny: Yeah. And if I talk about it anymore, I feel like I’m going to scream!

She huffs, eliciting another laugh from her dad.

Penny: So, may I please go shopping with you?

Pietro: Of course, Sweetie! Now sit down, food’s about done.

Penny nods and skips over to the dining table. After they have breakfast, the father-daughter pair clean up the dishes and get dressed for their errand. Pietro takes a bit longer to get to the front door as he packs tote bags onto his chair to carry their groceries. When they’re all set Penny and Pietro leave the house and take the city bus to head to the market. You see, Pietro despite his great intellect was a very simple man. He liked to get his bread from the bakery and meat from the butchers when he could manage it. Sure, he could go into a big box store and get everything in one go but that wasn’t how he liked to do things. As someone who put their heart into their craft, he preferred to patron others who did the same. That’s what the bags were for, reusables for holding different products from familiar stores.

As they go from shop to shop Penny watches Pietro be greeted and greet the people inside with the kind of familiarity that takes years to develop. The staff at the general store know him by name, and the bakery already has his usual order set aside for him in by the time they walk in. She even offers Penny a couple of free cupcakes.

Valora: They’re from a test batch for a new flavor. Give it a try!

Pietro: Ah, thanks Valora. You’re too sweet.

Valora: It’s nothing, I was looking for test runners anyway.

The kind elder woman holds out the treat to Penny with a smile. It was a vanilla cupcake with powder pink icing and topped with a candied strawberry. Simple but cute, like something a sweet little girl would ask for as a treat while out with her parents.

Penny: Octavia would love this…in fact.

Penny takes out her scroll, opens the camera app, and snaps a few pictures of the cupcakes before taking them gently. She thanks the baker before taking a bite. The coating on the strawberry breaks with a soft crunch, the icing is peach-flavored, and the inside is filled with a soft peach jam. It’s an interesting tasting treat as it’s very sweet but somewhat tart. It’s a very summery flavor and Penny really enjoys it, easting about half before offering the other to her dad. As the two share sweeties Valora looks on with a satisfied smirk.

Valora: It’s good?

Penny nods yes, lips in a tight smile to keep her mouth full of baked delight from falling out.

Valora: That’s a relief, I had to sub a few things out here and there. What with that bolt head locking up the boarder-

She stops herself, slapping her hand over her mouth and excusing herself back to the kitchen. Penny looks puzzled by her words, but Pietro quickly leads her away to head to their next stop. But as they carry on with their errand Penny picks up on a common topic of conversation, complains about the border situation. This wasn’t uncommon to hear at all with how much the whole world was shaken when Beacon fell but it seemed the context of the heightened security was slowly becoming twisted.

Blame for the constrictions and slowing of supply chains was being placed on Ironwood. This wasn’t exactly wrong, but the decision had its reasons! There was a dangerous force running loose in the world with nothing but malicious acts in mind. It wanted nothing more than to rain chaos and cessation wherever it went.

Penny: It’s not like he wanted this but what choice did he have?! After what happened to Beacon, even what happened to during the tournament was already-

Penny stops in her tracks and grabs her stomach, her waist burning from the memory. Her injuries were a part of the beginning of it all, a smokescreen to cause confusion while the real nightmare unfolded. She knew the horrors it would bring onto even the most innocent or irrelevant.

Seeing her discomfort Pietro suggests they stop at a nearby park bench to catch their breath, Penny agrees. It takes some maneuvering to get their groceries situated without dropping anything. In that organizing, Pietro finds he’s forgotten something at the last stop they made. Since it’s not too far away Pietro leaves Penny behind to go retrieve it. Alone again, Penny can feel the melancholy rolling in. All day she had tried to look at the positives no matter how pessimistic things had gotten but that was a hard task to do alone when people around were in just as bad shape. Whitley was forced on a horrible date, the tension in Mantle was still high, and even her fellow huntsman friends were too busy preparing their concert to hang out with her. It’s sad but couldn’t a protector have someone to lean when she was down?

Penny: Maybe I’m being too greedy. I shouldn't beg for attention whenever I feel lonely, I’m not stuck in the lab anymore! I can go where I want to, do what I want to do and talk…to who I want to.

Penny pauses and pulls out her scroll, looking back at Whitley’s text from the morning. In her quest to chase away from worries and get outside, she’d neglected to address the two people who’d been worrying for her. Though her relationship with Octavia had started as a quest for more information on her investigation Penny had quickly grown fond of the plucky girl from their first meeting and Esther had merely triggered her protective instincts but even after she still wanted to know more about her. They were bright spots in a very dark place, and they were still seeking her out. For what Penny couldn’t be 100 percent sure but leaving resolved would be irresponsible for a protector of the people like her. So with much consideration, Penny dials one of the numbers. A soft instrumental song plays in her ear for a few seconds before a familiar clear but delicate voice replies when the music fades.

Esther: Hello?

Penny smiles, eased at the sound of her green-haired friend’s voice.

Penny: Hello Esther! How are you today?

Esther: What-PENNY!

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superfrostydrawing · 3 months

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Whitley is currently 45% legs, if he gets any taller I hope it's his torso and shoulder proportions bc goddam my poor stick boy

I haven't posted anything lately and honestly I would be much more inspired to discussion if a CERTAIN SHOW revived.

And no, it is not because I actually care that much for the show itself or the lore. Half of the cast could die and I would sip choco milk unfazed.

No. What actually matters to me about this show resuming is a certain character that DESERVES THE WORLD. a character I have staned since V4 AND WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO in my heart!!!

It's that "do it for her" meme but it's for him.

bruh i kid you not, i just wanna see him being happy is that too much to ask!?

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superfrostydrawing · 3 months

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I haven't posted anything lately and honestly I would be much more inspired to discussion if a CERTAIN SHOW revived.

And no, it is not because I actually care that much for the show itself or the lore. Half of the cast could die and I would sip choco milk unfazed.

No. What actually matters to me about this show resuming is a certain character that DESERVES THE WORLD. a character I have staned since V4 AND WILL CONTINUE TO DO SO in my heart!!!

It's that "do it for her" meme but it's for him.

bruh i kid you not, i just wanna see him being happy is that too much to ask!?

#my son is out there and i dont know what he's up to -sobs-

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superfrostydrawing · 3 months

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Crepes

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superfrostydrawing · 3 months

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The Great Schnee

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superfrostydrawing · 4 months

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Broken Machines: Between Shadows

Chapter 8: Worrying Winter.

The sun basks through her window, Winter has been awake long before it rose today. Her hair was down from its usual bun, and she’d still dressed in her military-issue nightwear. As per her normal routine, she starts her day with morning calisthenics. First stretches, then setup, next push-up, then a full ten minutes of planking before she’s ready for her morning shower. The water is hot, almost boiling as she lets the shower run until the heat is consistent. Once it is Winter strips and enters the shower, her well-endowed figure glistening as the water rains down on her. Despite her occupation, Winter’s body holds few scars from her many dangerous ventures as a huntswoman and soldier. Even the most notable of them seemed almost craved into her precious skin, like dull cracks in marble. Her hands glide over every inch of her body with a firm but careful touch. Her hair is washed with equal attention, the white silky strands hold no knots or tingles after her thorough cleaning.

After twenty minutes of washing Winter turns off the water and wraps a towel around herself. While still damp she begins her extensive skincare routine, exfoliating then a facial wash, and finally moisturizing both her face and body. Next, she gingerly dries her hair but putting it up in her signature bun. Clean and manicured she steps out of her bathroom in a white towel, it’s time to get dressed. Retrieving and dawning the set of undergarments from her dresser she dresses herself in her usual military regalia. Clean dressed and presentable Winter checks herself in the mirror, her face devoid of any emotion as she inspects her appearance. She is a vision of both beauty and elegance with a surly atmosphere around her that exemplifies her immense fighting prowess. From a glance, anyone who gazed at her would know she was not someone to trifle with. And very few in any kingdom she set foot in disagreed, most who did were easily proven wrong.

Except for…certain individuals. But the less said about that drunken scythe-welding bastard the better.

Though she stares, a quiet feeling of dread seeps into her. This habit of waking up early to care for her appearance was something that far predated her military service. This need to meet some unspoken expectation of perfection daily had been a ritual she’d performed since childhood, ingrained into her very being from years of high expectations. The years spent in high society, years spent under the public eye at all times, forced to be presentable and impeccable in every way at all times.

Years spent under his rule.

Even though she had grown far too old he ordered around and far too strong to be frightened into submission as she had been in her youth still Winter couldn’t help but retain some of her father’s teachings. Some days it was minimal, just a whisper in the back of her head that faded in seconds. Others it was a roaring, a screaming wave of horrid memories she did her best to bury but somehow always resurfaced.

Sometimes she could hear his voice.

Jacques: Put on a dress, those pants make your legs look lumpy and manish!

Jacques: Straighten up your back! You look like a slob hunching like that!

Jacques: Hunting?! How dare you even think of wasting my time with such savagery!

Jacques: PUT THAT SWORD AWAY! YOU HAVE NO USE FOR SUCH BARBARIC THINGS!

It was a painful screeching in her ears, rippling over every insecurity and fear she held deep in her heart. Looking into her own eyes in the mirror, Winter sees them dilate and her breath quickens, frustrated she turns away from her reflection and reaches for her sword. She holds the blade close to her chest as she desperately tries to even out her breathing. Clutching the hilt tightly, she runs her hands over it in an amateurish manner. They moved as if being guided to hold the blade properly, almost like a child being taught for the first time. She closes her eyes and tries to focus on the feel of the metal and soon the phantom touch of a hand calms her mind.

This position, this was where her hands were when her grandfather taught her how to use her semblance. He guided her hands into place and held them tight as she attempted to use her semblance, smiling and whispering words of encouragement throughout. Winter had never felt more secure than she did with her grandfather and even though she never had the courage to tell him of what was happening in their home before he passed his memory still brought her peace.

Gods, she missed him.

They all did. There wasn’t a single person without tears running down their face at his funeral.

Except for the man who got everything he wanted when that gracious man died.

But that’s why she must never forget, never let the malice burning in her die out only simmer. It gave her purpose, a reason to remain strong and levelheaded no matter what.

Calmed, Winter rises to her feet and secures her sword to the clip on her hip. She grabs and pockets her scroll, ID card, and wallet before departing her room for the canteen.

As she approached the cafeteria, bustling with the hum of many students, huntsmen, and soldiers, the stares of others followed. Her presence drops loud chatter to soft whispers if not completely silencing it. Such was the atmosphere such an elite soldier, being the general’s most trusted commander, it was only natural that most felt intimidated by the very sight of Winter.

Winter: As it should be.

She thought, looking around as she grabbed a tray and joined the mess line. It doesn’t take long for her to get to the front as her presence seems to push the others to pick out their breakfast quickly and move on as fast as possible. Once in front, she requests a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast with a side salad along with a bowl of oatmeal with fruit and a cup of black tea. After retrieving her breakfast Winter sits alone to eat, no one approaching her as she begins to eat but still eyeing her. She eats elegantly but quickly, eating a normal portion for a huntress but with such grace, it’s hard to imagine that she actually eating that much food.

When she takes a sip of her tea, she has to stifle a grimace as the flavor hits her tongue.

Winter: Ugh, they forgot to prep-check the temperature of the water again.

She grumbled inwardly as she continued to drink. Being of a wealthy background Winter was well versed in the art of tea making, much in due to her mother’s past pension for tea parties. She knew the ends and outs of what makes a good cup of tea, to the point she could taste even the slightest of flaws in any batch she drank. And this one had the simplest of beginner's mistakes, the water was boiled incorrectly. It was boiled similarly to water for the coffee, but the two drinks had different preferred temperatures for their respective flavors. The difference was too subtle for anyone but the most advert tea drinker or a tea aficionado such as herself to note so Winter ops to keep it herself and finishes her tea without outward complaint.

Once she’s done Winter cleans up her table, puts her dirty tray with the others, and goes about her usual duties. As one of Ironwood’s most trusted soldiers, when not engaged in overseas missions or combat Winter was charged with overseeing the operations of the academy and the military at large. Checking in on the status of training huntsmen, and on the current missions of soldiers around the two cities were her main tasks. It was nothing glamorous, just comparing class grades across semesters and checking in with active soldiers to make sure they were doing their jobs correctly. It mostly calls and paperwork, as she sits at her desk in her office. Very few people even knew Winter had her own office since she mostly did in-person business outside or with the general, but she honestly preferred it that way. It gave her a space to think clearly while she got things done.

She spends hours working, focusing on her task to prevent the inevitable boredom from creeping down on her. Her role had been much more active before the fall of Beacon but now with the borders closed and preparations being made for…. the inescapable evil that was slowly approaching she was left rather sedentary. She never complained about the change but that didn’t mean she didn’t have an opinion on it.

Especially since upon her return from Mistral, she was greeted with several pieces of extremely stressful news. First, that they were going to be faced with a world-destroying threat that had been dormant for years. Second, Penny Polendina was alive and well after what most would have thought to be a fatal dismembering. Third, her younger sister Weiss had run away from home, and somehow out of the kingdom without detection. And finally, because of the looming threat, she was to begin some specialized training to become the next winter maiden.

Despite her taking it well at the moment, Winter did not sleep for some time after getting that many bombshells dropped on her head. And though she wasn’t too worried about Weiss and was actually a bit relieved that Penny was okay Winter couldn’t help the weariness that came with the realization that the time to fulfill her ultimate duty to her kingdom and the world was fast approaching. She had the strength, the talent, the knowledge, and capabilities to take up this role without fail. But that wasn’t the problem.

Winter: No matter what I do she just won’t-

She groans, getting up from her desk and going for a quick walk. It was around lunchtime, but Winter rarely eats more than twice a day. Still, she peeks into the cafeteria just in time to see Penny enter. She watches her converse with the students and staff before getting her lunch and heading to the outdoor tables. Winter found it odd given how social the girl was, but it wasn’t her place to judge.

However, a small part of her was a little impressed by her communication skills. The affable android had been primarily raised in a lab but was always extremely cordial with anyone who’d give her the time of the day, sometimes to an annoyed degree due to her lack of social grace. But recently she’d been more…courtly and tactful in her socialization than before. Her overstepping with questions and boundary-pushing via invading personal space had slowly but surely disappeared and her manner of speaking seemed to adapt to the atmosphere now. It was subtle but oddly familiar to Winter, in a way that just needled at the back of her head. As if her subconscious was poking at her memory banks for the train of recollection to put this bizarre sense of déjà vu into context.

Now Winter would never bother Penny with something so trivial as a personal matter, but she did inquiry about to Ironwood not too long ago. The interaction was..interesting to say the least.

A week prior to today Winter was standing in General Ironwood going over some paperwork when the topic of students shifting attitudes.

Winter: It seems that morale is plummeting amongst the new recruits.

Ironwood: Understandable, given the state of things. Don’t worry too much about it, I’ve already prepared something to help calm the academy stress level for a little while.

Winter: Have you green-lit another concert for Team FNKI?

Ironwood: Yes. It’s been a while and they’ve been itching to perform again. Besides, nothing soothes the souls in wartime more than good music.

Winter: True. But I have also noticed there’s somewhat of a spike in morale during lunch hours.

Ironwood: Again understandable, it’s a break time to recharge and eat.

Winter: Yes, but I’ve noticed there’s some correlation between that spike and Ms. Polendia’s newly instated lunch break.

Ironwood: I can imagine.

He says with a chuckle, setting his pen down and settling into a more relaxed position in his chair before continuing.

Ironwood: Penny’s a friendly chatty ball of positive energy, her company is just…comforting.

Winter: I understand but the way she’s been interacting with others just seems more well-rounded and auspicious than before.

Ironwood: So, you believe the spike is related to a change in her socializing?

Winter: It’s more so that her ability to converse has vastly improved. It is such a far cry from her previous behavior but still so in line with her personality. It’s almost as if she’s been coached on it.

Ironwood takes a sip of his coffee to try to stifle a laugh but ends up snorting into it, getting lukewarm coffee all over his mouth and in his bread.

Winter: General!

Ironwood: I’m fine! I’m fine!

He chimes half laughing and coughing as he grabs a tea towel from his desk and cleans himself off. Once he’s got himself together again, Ironwood looks at Winter with a gentle, almost amused gaze.

Ironwood: You’re right, she has been tutored on her people skills but not for the reasons you’re thinking.

Winter: And what exactly is this reason?

Ironwood chuckles again, hands moving to type something on his scroll.

Ironwood: Why don’t you see for yourself, I’m sending you the reports on her lessons. Give it a read when you have time.

Winter: Yes, Sir.

Ironwood: And for your own sake, please look it over somewhere private.

Winter: Of course, Sir.

And that was the last they’d spoken of the matter, Winter receiving the documents the same day. She had them printed out but hadn’t found the time to sit down and read them. Currently, the stack of papers was sitting in a drawer in her room collecting dust. The idea of reading it as she strides down the hall to her next task, just to get some context, but decides to hold off until later as she matches towards the most important part of her day.

Through a route, few knew of and many security checkpoints Winter reaches the most well-protected building in the academy and the kingdom.

The chamber of the winter maiden, protector of the tundra kingdom, and keeper of the staff of creation.

Once upon a time, Winter had believed this person to be nothing but a myth, a character in a story long twisted from countless retellings over centuries. A fairytale to give hope to children in a world where monsters hunt by the smell of fear and would tear them apart if not for the strength of a selected few who could combat them. But now, she knew it was far too real.

It was a shock, really, meeting this woman so long-lived she wondered if her grandfather had known her in his youth. Freya, a hero whose name would live on only in the files held at the academy just as her predecessor before her. She’d been an artist beforehand, with a weak aura and a less-than-notable semblance before she’d been chosen by the previous maiden. No one, not even Freya herself, knew why she was chosen by the last winter maiden. She had not had the time to speak of her choice before her demise nor to even choose a successor beforehand. So sudden was her passing that it only advanced the shock of the girl she’d chosen to take her mantle in her final hour.

Despite that Freya served her kingdom well all these years, even while sitting on what she knew would be her deathbed. She won’t make the last maiden’s mistake; no Freya would refuse the reaper’s call until she knew in her heart of hearts that the next girl in line for these powers would wield them with safety, pride, and love their kingdom in mind. Someone could do well, far better than she did in her years with them.

And that’s why Winter was there, as grim as it sounds. She was training to be and engaging with the winter maiden in order to take her place. Ironwood had insisted they get to know each other well before the time came so Freya could die without regret, safe in the knowledge she’d left her kingdom in good hands.

Ironwood: It’s the least we can do.

He’d told her, reassuring both white-haired women as they faced this sensitive issue. He’d even taken the time to debrief both on each other’s lives to the best of his abilities and encouraged them to get to know each other.

But that’s where the problems began.

As Winter enters the room with Freya’s meal, she’s met with the same apathetic gaze she was more than used to from the elder woman. She walks over to her bedside and holds the tray of food in one hand while the other pulls out the built-in tray table from the side of the bed. Once’s it up she sets the meal down in front of Freya and steps back.

Winter: Here you go.

She says politely, face still in its natural neutral state as she speaks. Freya glances at her and then at her food.

Freya: Is the other girl coming?

The elderly maiden asks, voice tired and impassive. Winter nods in adverse.

Winter: No, not today.

Freya sighs and begins to eat in silence. This was the biggest challenge the conversion had faced since the beginning. While Freya knew how capable and determined Winter was, and all the tales of her formative she’d been willing to share the woman just didn’t enjoy her presence in the slightest. In fact, she disliked Winter from the moment she met her, not unimpressed by her amazing feats of duty in the name of Atlas but rather disillusioned by her personality. No matter how they tried to get Freya to empathize with Winter the woman just wouldn’t budge.

Though she understood the greatness of her abilities, Freya could not come around to her. Even after hearing Winter's life story Freya found herself not as compelled by it. Instead, she’d noted something in the girl’s behavior that no one else had noticed or had refused to. Outside of physical conflicts, Winter was detached from almost everything and held no true personal ties outside what was absolutely necessary. She held nothing dear and cared for nothing but that was a given with how she grew up.

Still, Freya could not trust something this important to someone like her, not to a coward. Because of this reluctance, Freya had lived far past her expected death date and seemingly held strength out of pure spite. She didn’t believe in Winter and refused to die until she could or found someone she could believe in. Thus began the long quiet of their session, Winter tending to Freya in almost complete silence on good days and through cold tantrums on bad days.

After ensuring Freya is well-fed, exercised, and rested Winter leaves to do her daily physical training regimen. Even with Freya’s silent aversion to her, Winter still had to ready her body for the day she’d receive the winter maiden powers. The strength of the ice and cold winds was not to be trifled with and she needed to be prepared to receive it and return to battle as fast as possible.

It mostly involves pushing her agility, balance, and aim to their limits as lacking in even one of those abilities could be disastrous when wielding something like the elements. Ice especially due to its duality of being both extremely strong and brittle. Once she’s done with her training and work Winter gets some dinner to take to her room. It had been a long day and she wanted some alone time.

She returns to her room with a bowl of creamy chicken soup with a pork chop, and a side of steamed vegetables and rice, along with several pieces of bread. The food was piping hot, so Winter took a quick shower before sitting down to eat. Start with the soup, Winter takes a careful spoonful to test the taste and heat. The broth is creamy with a soothing undertone of root vegetables and chicken but still a little too hot to eat say yet. She stirs her soup lazily with her spoon for a while until it cools until it’s at a good temperature. She eats the bread between spoonfuls, loving the taste and texture of it melts into the soup on her tongue. Once her bowl is empty, she moves on to the pork chop and steamed vegetables and rice. The pork chop was breaded and fried with a dash of gravy so Winter cut the meat into bite-size pieces and scooped one onto her fork with each bite of vegetables and rice. The gravy soaking into the rice gives each bite a nice meaty taste, making the rather bland steamed vegetables go down easily.

When she’s done with her food, Winter puts her dish aside to take down in the morning. She’s about to go brush her teeth but finds she’s still a little peckish. She debates just going to sleep but it’s not too late in the evening. That and she still has those documents to read. So, she settles on having a light snack and some tea while reading.

From a small storage box in the corner of her room, she retrieved some provisions. A few boxes of high-brand tea, a couple bottles of spring water, a singer jar, and a tin box of cookies from a small bakery not too far from the academy. Was it a bit excessive? Yes, but she couldn’t really help herself. Though it’s just a small luxury held many good memories for her. One of the last times she saw her mother Willow in a good state of mind before the truth was revealed and the façade of a happy family went down the drain, with her mother finding comfort at the bottom of wine bottles. As to why she hides these treasures, this was the military, and she would be absolutely livid if someone tried to steal some or beg for something.

Filling her electric kettle with spring water, Winter retrieves a teacup and picks a flavor of tea to drink. Chamomile was good for sleep, but Winter didn’t want to get drowsy while reading and she’d already had black tea today. Ginger lemon was good for digestion, but the spicy undertones don’t go well with sweets, and since she was having cookies, she didn't want to have anything too overly sweet or fruity either so honey and berry flavors were out too. Looking through the boxes she finds a tin of oolong she’d forgotten about, an impulse purchase from her last mission abroad. The tin had a traditional Mistral tea wear design in pale white and deep blue. It was such a great match to her natural coloring and aesthetics that Winter couldn’t help but pick it up before even reading the label. Still, she wasn't one to waste a good product, and since oolong had a similar bold but lighter flavor than green it would go well with tonight's treats. Putting the leaves in the defuser and into the cup then pouring the hot water into the cup, she sits down with documents as she waits for the tea to steep.

The first page isn’t anything of note, Winter had known of Penny’s mission in Atlas for some time, and most of the general details of how that investigation went. But there were some blanks she’d never asked to be filled, like who was their lead into high society. Those blanks were filled with a shoot of dread as Winter reads the address of where Penny received her etiquette lessons.

Winter: What?!

That manor, the place she once called home until the illusion shattered, Penny had been going in and out as a visit almost daily for months!

Winter: But how?! Why?!

Winter’s breath hitched; she knew Ironwood would never ever let her father near an innocent soul if he could help it! He was the one who gave her the chance to run to freedom and help Weiss get as far away as she could!

Winter: Why would he let her go there?! How could this-

Her thoughts are stopped when she reads the name of Penny’s tutor, it’s a name she knew well but hadn’t graced her lips in far too long.

Winter: Whitley?

She says aloud, puzzled as to how her only brother had become part of this. Reading further she discovers the life debt Whitley had incurred from Penny and the political deal that followed. This calms her slightly, her father using someone’s goodwill to gain an edge was as much a fact of life to her as needing air to breathe. And though the connotations of him gaining political power gave her shivers, it was hardly the biggest issue she had to deal with right now. Pausing to finish preparing her tea and opening her tin of cookies, Winter gets comfortable before resuming her reading.

As she goes from the formative details into the lesson plans and progress reports Winter finds herself immersed in the text. The way of writing in each report was so uniquely Whitley she could almost hear his voice reading in her ears. Seeing the effect and time he took into teaching Penny was so… interesting. The way he taught wasn’t anything like they’d grown up with at all, it was customized to work with Penny’s learning style. More hands-on work and promoted in ways that feed off her thirst for knowledge and growth. Breaks were offered if needed along with snacks, things people would expect from the underclass but were something none of the three siblings had experienced at all. The entries that stand out the most are the practical one's elite harassment, something she’d never been prepared for and suffering greatly from in her youth. The work he put into making sure Penny could survive and thrive was more than Winter could have ever hoped out of anyone, especially her brother.

In some ways, he seemed the most like their father as they got older. At least that’s what Winter remembered.

To be fair she hadn’t paid him much attention since she joined the military and started training Weiss. The most recent memories she had of him were just passing glances and hearing catty remarks she couldn’t even recall. The clearest recollections she had of him she had were from years ago. She could still remember holding him for the first time, his tiny hand wrapped around her pinky finger and his bright little eyes looking up at her with all the innocence in the world. She could still hear him leading his scales on the piano, trying to catch you with her and Weiss so they could play together like a little band. She recalled how he used to sneak her his portion of the snacks he didn’t like when they had tea, trying his best not to slip over their grandfather’s cape as he reached over to her plate. All because he didn’t like cucumbers but didn’t want to waste it.

He was so precious to her then, so sweet despite everything going on around them. And from what she could gleam he was still that sweet boy in some ways even after everything turned out so horrible.

When did he stop being that way? Or rather when did she stop seeing it? Seeing him, her own little brother as himself.

Winter: Just when he did become so grown up?

She thought to herself, picking up her teacup to take a sip. She looks down and sees a ripple in the tea as she pulls it to her lips. Then another and another as clear droplets fall into her cup. Wiping her cheek with the tip of her finger, Winter feels a line of water dripping down her face. When she had started crying Winter didn't know but she wouldn’t let that stop her from reading. Staying up late, rediscovering a dear memory she’d long since forgotten.

#ahhh yes angst #what a great way to start the year am i right #but srsly i liked this a lot might be on my top 5 maybe #by Winter's realization alone #call me biased but i am a sucker for sibling relationships and Whinter realizing her brother existed was always a dream of mine so-#i love how it started with the entire chapter her not thinking of Whitley ONCE even when recalling her life under Jacques #UNTIL she read his name and suddenly is BOOM realization after realuzation after nostalgia

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superfrostydrawing · 5 months

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Broken Machines: Between Shadows

Chapter 7: Wandering with you.

Clothes lay scattered across her bed as Penny searched through her closet. The night Whitley texted her they’d spent hours after dinner planning this meet-up. Jacques was heading out again and the weather was going to be nice all weekend, so they’d have plenty of time to spend together. Whitley had been cooped up in the manor for a while, so Penny had suggested they go to the park and get some fresh air together.

Penny: I know a nice one nearby. It has an ice rink, a big playground, and some picnic tables. We can go ice skating and get lunch from one of the street vendors!

She proposed, Whitley ruminated on the suggestion for a moment. He hadn’t been to a park in over a decade but the thought of skating with Penny did tickle his fancy too much to refuse.

Whitley: Should I bring my own skates?

He quips with a smile. With the location picked out and a time frame sorted the only thing left to do for Penny was pick out an outfit! It wasn’t too cold out but there was still snow on the ground so pants or leggings would be best if she was going to be doing physical activities. Being a skirt lover Penny looked through all her causal clothes for a suitable one, as she searched, she recalled the stylish cold-weather outfit she’d picked up at Stellar oh so long ago. Putting the pieces together and looking them over as set Penny decides to swap out the yellow boots for her brown winter boots so she can be steady on her feet instead of risking stumbling while breaking in the higher heels. She also switches out the compass-themed accessories for her silver brooch to better match her deep blue blouse. She dawns her outfit then checks herself out in the mirror and after a few adjustments everything looks great. Now on to hair, since she’s gonna be active a simple high ponytail works fine. And as a final touch, she applies a coat of cherry lipgloss to her lips, a little something she picked up at the store earlier in the week. It’s a small touch that adds a lovely little shine to her appearance.

With that Penny’s ready to go, placing her necessities into the large pockets of her coat and heads downstairs. Her dad had gone up to the academy to help run some diagnostics on the mechas stationed at the border earlier that day, so Penny locks up the house before leaving. She practically skips all the way to the station and seems to sway as she stays outside waiting for Whitley.

Whitley himself was just as excited, sitting on the train bound for the lower city. He’d dressed a little more carefully this time, adding a blue and gray plaid sweater vest and low leather boots to his ensemble along with a satchel. Inside this satchel was a pair of ice skates, ones he hadn’t used in some time but luckily still fit. He’d spent more than an hour the night before checking and prepping them for today. After browbeating Mary into sneaking him the needed material, Whitley had polished the skates to perfection and even sharpened up the blades to ensure they’d been in peak form. He holds them tightly in his lap as the train car slowly comes to a stop at its destination.

Stepping out onto the platform and into the station Whitley wades through the crowd to the exit. He debates trying to sneak up on Penny again but is spotted before he can come to a decision.

Penny: Hey! Over here!

She calls out, waving him over from the closet street corner. Whitley turns and bolts straight for her, throwing the satchel straps over one shoulder as he goes straight for a hug. As soon as they make contact Whitley lays his head in the crack of Penny’s and breathes in deep. Taking in her essence and breathing out all the stress he’d been storing, Whitley feels instantly lighter. Her soothing presence and comforting scent putting him completely at ease. Penny wraps her arms around his shoulder and neck, giggling a little when his hair tickles her cheek.

Whitley: Gods, I missed you.

He whispers sweetly, Penny’s cheeks heat up as she responds in kind.

Penny: Missed you too.

After a long embrace they part, Whitley stealing another longing glaze and immediately notices the tent of pink on Penny’s lips.

Whitley: What’s this?

He asks, grasping Penny’s chin with his hand and tilting it upwards to get a better look. The gloss shimmers as Whitley holds a teasing finger right under her bottom lip.

Whitley: Is this-(chuckles)-are you wearing makeup?

Penny: J-just some lipgloss.

She stammers in response, face glowing beet red as she gently pushes Whitley’s hand away. He smirks at her reaction and then holds out an arm to her.

Whitley: Shall we?

Penny links her arm with his with a soft smile and they two begin their trek to the park. Thankfully it doesn’t take long as Penny guides them through the quickest route. The park itself looks like a stretch of pathways surrounded by deep snow, grass barely peeking out from the depths of it. There’s hardly anyone around besides some elderly people sitting on benches, playing chess on the public boards, or feeding the few flocks of birds that congregate in the area. Some wave as they pass when they notice Penny, a few inquiring about the young man she’s with. Phrases like “Who’s this?” “Is he a friend of yours?” “Is that your boyfriend?” and more are repetitively hurdled at Penny as they walk through the park. She brushes them off and tries to hurry past to avoid more prying while Whitley quietly chuckles under his mask, playfully waving back as they wade through the wave of nosy old people. Eventually, they reach their destination, the ice rink and playground.

The playground was nothing remarkable, just a metal jungle gym, some swings, seesaws, and monkey bars. Children were playing about all over the place, all dressed in thick winter coats that hardly seemed to slow down the running, jumping, and playing as the little ones enjoyed the snow-covered landscape. Opposite to that was the equally bustling ice rank where the older parkgoers make their best attempts at skating around the rink. Most just do careful rotations while others try to pull off tricks. Couples young and old hold hands as they skate together, teens do dumb tricks that raise the ire of the custodians working who promptly yell at them to knock it off and children hold on to training frames as their parent helps them get the hang of things.

Penny’s eyes shine in excitement at the sight of so many people out enjoying the day, meanwhile, Whitley is less than impressed. This was honestly the shabbiest rink he’d ever seen, completely outdoors with loaner skates that had been in circulation for five years at the least and a main building that most likely hadn't been renovated in the last decade. But seeing Penny’s excitement he pushes all that aside, as long as she’s happy and at his side the venue doesn’t matter.

Whitley: So, you ready to go skating or-

Penny: Yes!

She interrupts him, eagerness practically beaming off her.

Whitley: Okay then little miss go-getter, why don’t you go get some skates and I’ll meet you on the rink?

Penny: Okay! I’ll be right back! Don’t start without me!

She exclaimed joyfully before running off to the counter to borrow a pair of skates. Getting in line with others Penny waits patiently for her turn as others ahead of her get their skates and head to the ice.

Rink Attendant: Next.

The attendant calls as the last person in front of Penny steps out of the way, letting her move up to the front.

Penny: Hello! I like to borrow a pair of ice skates, please!

She asks, the slightly disinterested teen attendant gives her half a gaze before pushing a clipboard with the sigh in form over to her but pauses when he realizes who’s in front of him.

Rink Attendant: What the-are you are-are you the flying huntress lady? Penny, right?

Penny: Yes, that’s me.

Rink Attendant: Holy crap, you’re like a local hero! My little cousin is crazy about you, he won’t shut up about seeing you around town!

Penny: Aw, really? What’s his name?

Rink Attendant: Georgy.

Penny thinks for a moment, combing through her memories for a child with that name. And soon she finds it, recalling the face of a particularly excitable little boy among one of the groups of children she sees almost daily.

Penny: Oh, little Georgy. He should be turning seven this month, right?

Rink Attendant: Yeah, tomorrow actually! How’d you know?!

Penny: He told me the last time I helped his class cross the street to their elementary school, he was passing out invitations while in line. Please tell him I said happy birthday.

Rink Attendant: I will trust me I will! So, what did you need again?

Penny: Ice skates, please.

Rink Attendant: Alright, alright, what’s your shoe size?

Penny: Six and a half.

Rink Attendant: Okay, just put down your first and last name and your scroll number here and I’ll be right back with your skates.

Penny: Okay.

Penny notes down her name and number while the attendant goes over to the rack of skates and finds a pair in her size. After a few minutes, he returns and puts the skates on the counter.

Rink Attendant: Here you go, just remember to bring them back when you’re done.

Penny: Of course, thank you.

Penny grabs the skates and turns to walk away, as she’s leaving the attendant calls out to her.

Joey: Be the way my name’s Joey!

He half shouts, the attendant at the snack bar shaking her head disapprovingly. Penny, being no stranger to gaining admiration from her citizens, looks back at him and smiles.

Penny: Thanks again, Joey. I promise to return these in the best state possible.

She beams before running back over to the rink. Going up to the opening closest to the entrance, Penny spots Whitley standing in wait, holding onto the side while wearing his skates. He notices her approaching and waves her over.

Whitley: There you are, I thought you’d gotten lost again.

Penny: Sorry, the line was longer than I expected, I also met a relative of a fan of mine and made some light conversation.

Whitley: A fan? I didn’t know I was dating a celebrity.

He jests, Penny giggles at his joke as she sits down and removes her shoes.

Penny: I’m not a celebrity say per se, just very active in the protection of the city and the safety of its citizens. People took notice of my efforts and appreciate me for it.

Whitley: I see. So aside from being a great student, model soldier, and an amazing partner, you’re also a pillar of your community. Is there anything you can’t do?

He states with a wink, garnering another giggle as well as a blush from Penny while she pulls the skates onto her feet and starts tying the laces. Looking between them it’s obvious Whitley’s skates are the superior pair. White leather, in perfect condition with blades sharp enough to cut through the ice like butter. Meanwhile, Penny’s loaners were a worn dingy brown color that had clearly seen better days, the blades being the only saving grace on them. Penny is far too excited to notice or care about that whole Whitley silently contemplates getting her a pair as a gift for the next time they go skating. But before he can start thinking about what color she’d prefer; Penny gets up and attempts to stand in her skates.

Penny: Okay, they’re on! Now let’s-Whoa!

But she quickly loses her balance, Whitley quickly moving forward to catch her arm and help her stand up straight before she can fully tumble to the ground. Holding onto his arm, Penny has trouble keeping her footing on the thin blades.

Whitley: Easy, easy, just take it one step at a time.

Whitley advises, holding onto to Penny with on arm and the side of the rink with the other. Penny nods cautiously and slowly starts taking baby steps toward the rink, never letting Whitley’s hand go for a second. Her excitement quickly turns to nervousness as Penny’s never felt this unsteady on her feet before, legs shaking with apprehension at every step. She moves at a snail’s pace, inch by inch, and watches her feet until she’s right up against Whitley at the entrance to the rink. Seeing the tension in her movements Whitley gently steps back onto the ice and takes her other hand in his, gently guiding her out with him.

Whitley: Penny.

He calls, trying to distract her from her fear but it goes unheard.

Whitley: Penny!

He repeats, this time more forcefully. This does manage to grab her attention as Penny’s graze jerks up from the ground and onto Whitley.

Whitley: Keep your head up. You can’t see where you’re going if you keep looking down like that.

Penny: O-okay.

Whitley: Good, now relax. If you’re stiffen up like that, you’ll lock your knees and fall.

Penny: O-okay, okay.

Penny takes a few deep breaths and tries to relax her body, still holding onto Whitley as they stand on the ice. Once she stops shaking and her breathing evens out Whitley continues.

Whitley: Calm now?

Penny: Yeah.

Whitley: Great…Are you ready to try and move?

Penny hesitates for a moment, looking down at her feet again before looking back at Whitley. He seems so calm; his gaze is so soft as he stares at her, and his hands caress her arms gently. His demeanor is just so serene and comforting Penny wanted to dive straight into his arms and hold him close. But being in public and knowing she’d never get skating if she did, with a look of pure determination Penny nods yes.

Whitley: Okay. First things first, put your dominant foot forward.

Penny nods and cautiously puts her right foot forward.

Whitley: Okay, now I need you to lean your weight towards me and push forward.

Penny: Just move forward on only one foot?

She asks starting back down at her feet then looks back up, her nerves clearly getting to her again. Whitley, overcome with compassion and worry, tries to reassure her.

Whitley: It doesn’t have to be much, just do whatever you’re comfortable with. You can hold onto me for leverage, and make sure to raise your other foot as push off.

Penny: Okay.

Penny takes a big deep breath in, shuts her eyes, and pushes forward, Whitley moving backward to match her step. When she realizes she hasn’t fallen yet, opens her eyes and peeks around to see that she is still standing. Relieved and reassured Penny looks to Whitley with a smile, as if asking to take another step.

Whitley: Now the other.

He chimes, encouraging her to keep moving. She pushes off on her left foot and they move forward a bit. Feeling more confident, Penny keeps moving forward, her stripes getting bigger as they go. Through this, Whitley continues to hold her, moving backward at her pace with ease. As they skate along the long side of the rink Penny grows more comfortable and relaxes into the rhythm of their movements. It’s smooth sailing until they close in on one of the bends, Whitley looking back ahead of them to see how close they are to the curve.

Whitley: Okay, we’re coming up on a turn.

Penny: Oh no!

Penny’s eyes dilate with fear, but Whitley quickly reassures her.

Whitley: It’s okay. Just gently lean your weight away from the curve, I’ll help you balance.

Penny: Are you sure I won’t fall?!

Whitley: I promise you won’t, trust me.

Penny nods and as they hit the turn, she leans with Whitley, and they glide around the rounded edge of the rink. As they drift Penny stares into Whitley’s eyes, they glimmer with absolute admiration and trust as they gaze into hers. The look gives her peace of mind as they reach the other end of the curve.

Whitley: There we go. Now straight back up.

He chirps, causing Penny to giggle as they straighten out again. They glide around the rink a few times until Penny seems comfortable with her skating, only then does Whitley let go of one of Penny’s hands and skate alongside her. As they drift leisurely across the ice, Penny can’t help but gaze at the other skaters. Specifically, she looks in awe of the more seasoned ice dancers practicing their craft nearby. One girl, in particular, grabs her attention as the dancer moves closer to the center of the rink and performs a lay-back spin. The girl arches beautifully as twirls in one skate, tutu over her thermos haloing her waist as she spins. This display garners the amusement and astonishment of many on the rink, including Penny who releases of Whitley’s hand to applaud her. Seeing her attention taken off him, Whitley feels a tiny tinge of jealousy.

Whitley: It’s not that impressive, her execution was poor, and she could barely keep her form for more than a few seconds. I could do better.

He really could, Whitley was well-versed in the art of figure skating. Having spent years being trained by many master skaters alongside Weiss and Winter as part of their formative education. His skill was a performance level and though he hardly used this skill the training had been so intense most of the move set he was taught had been committed to muscle memory. And with a glint of playfulness in his eyes, Whitley moves away from Penny and towards the inner parts of the rink. Penny reaches out to with a confused expression on her face but Whitley just shots her wink and strides onward.

Whitley opens up his coat and increases his speed as he does a half routine around the rink before turning around and doing a backflip, landing elegantly on one leg. He then slides into a camel spin, upper body and left leg up in a horizontal position as he spins with his right. Once he spins out Whitley skates backward for a good distance until he builds up the momentum for a waltz jump into a double salchow then a triple axel.

Penny watches on in pure amazement, as do many of the other skaters on the rink. Seeing these reactions Whitley goes further and shows off his best footwork before capping his performance with a layback spin that folded into a sitting spin. There’s a small round of applause from the onlookers, Penny being the most enthusiastic as she fights the urge to jump up and down while clapping her heart out. Whitley notes her eagerness as he takes a dramatic bow before skating back to her side.

Penny: That was amazing!!!

Whitley: Thank you.

He says with a smirk, relishing in the brilliant sparkles of astonishment in Penny’s eyes.

Penny: I knew you were a good dancer, but this is a completely different art!

Whitley: Figure skating is a common aristocratic hobby in cold climates and as a child of affluence I’ve been in skates as long as I’ve been in dancing shoes.

Penny: Really?! Are there any other hidden talents you haven’t told me about?

She asks both teasingly and curiously, her sense of wonder greatly perked at the discovery of her boyfriend’s ice-dancing prowess.

Whitley: Of course, there are. But where’s the fun in just telling you?

He chirps before skating away, Penny following close behind. Their conversation continues as they glide around the rink.

Penny: So how many are there?

Whitley: Of what?

Penny: Your talents I don’t know.

Whitley: Hmm, hard to say. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me and I’m not too keen to share them yet.

Penny: Can you a least give me an estimate?

Whitley: And ruin the mystic of our relationship? Never!

He spouts in a fake dramatic tone, faux gobsmacked look, and his face and hand over his heart to aid his theatrics. Penny sighs and presses on.

Penny: Are you really that unwilling to tell, or do you just not trust me to know?

Whitley: What?

Penny: It’s okay if that’s why, I understand your reasoning. Just because we’ve grown close to each other doesn't mean that our trust in each other is absolute.

Whitley: Wait, that's not it at all!

He stops dead in his tracks, halting Penny in hers, and the two stand face-to-face on the ice.

Whitley: Look, Penny, there’s just-(sigh)-there’s a lot of things going on at home for right now and there’s a lot of history there I just…I just don’t think you’re ready to know just yet.

Penny: I…I know.

Whitley: I do trust you, Penny. I love being that I can be myself, my true self with you. And while I’d love to tell you…everything about me there’s just…

Whitley sighs, the weight of all the horrors in his life becoming unbearably heavy as he tries to speak. He takes her hands in his, holding them tenderly as he gazed directly onto her eyes.

Whitley: There are just some things that are better left unsaid for the time being.

Penny: I-I…uh..

Penny’s breath hitches and she feels a chill up her spine. She knew Whitley had his secrets, Penny had her own, but with all the understanding and kindness he’d given her, she couldn't help the cloud of guilt that hung over her head. And knowing now that it was only a matter of in when not if made that cloud hung more like a guillotine’s blade, the rope holding it up slowly being cut away by Whitley’s continued earnestly.

How ironic, the girl who could tell no lies was suddenly terrified by incoming truths.

Seeing the uncertainty on her face Whitley reaches up to caress one of her cheeks, concerned that he’d accidentally hit a sore spot for her.

Whitley: I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-

Penny: Hey, can you teach me some of your skating moves?!

Penny asks her face lit up with normal joyous enthusiasm, all hints of worry seemingly blasting themselves off her in a fraction of a second. Whitley is taken aback at the tone shift, usually, he’s the one to cut the conversation when things got too heavy but today Penny had beaten him to the punch.

Whitley: Really?

Penny: Yes! I really want to try the spins! They looked so fun!

Whitley: Well, those aren’t beginner-level tricks. Maybe we can try something simpler like a bunny hop.

Penny: Bunny hop? What’s that?!

Whitley demonstrates, doing a little hop from one place to another without losing balance. Penny’s immediately invested and soon their date turns into a short beginner ice skating lesson. The tense of their previous discussion dies down but the sting of it lingers as both try hard to push passed it. After a couple of hours on the rink, it's lunchtime. Penny turns in her skates, Joey assisting her again and tries to slide her a small slip of paper with his number on it, but Whitley’s quick hands and icy gaze dashes the attempted flirt before Penny can even notice. With that settled the couple considered their options, Penny volunteering the snack bar as the quick and easy pick. Whitley quickly rejects this on the ground that their hot chocolate was made with mostly hot water and the condiment dispenser looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks which Penny agrees with. So they go with the original plan, cart vendors. One of the things Soltais was prided on, especially when it came to tourism, was its status as a winter wonderland. Beautiful snow fell often, meaning there was always a chance for winter games and winter foods that the rest of the world only enjoyed in mass during their cold seasons. This extended to food vendors all over both cities, and with it being lunchtime Penny and Whitley don’t have to go far to find some. Carts serving mini meat pies, hot sandwiches, soups, and many more warm delights were common places in parks and shopping areas in Mantle. And being in the lower city on a weekend meant some interesting vendors could be found. Foreign vendors from all over the globe would petal their offerings around heavily populated areas in both but Mantle’s were known for being both convenient and inexpensive without a loss in taste.

With no lack of options, Penny and Whitley wander for a moment, searching for something good to eat. In their searching, the cries of one particular vendor catches Penny’s attention.

Vendor: Corn Dog! Nice Thick, Hot, and Cheesy Mistrial Style Corn Doges!

He cries, Penny looks over at his setup and is a little surprised. It’s larger than the normal hotdog stands, with a pot of batter and a fryer built into it along with a session for toppings which themselves are unusual. Sliced potatoes, crushed-up spicy chips, even corn cereal and sugar. It’s only when the next person in line for the stand orders does Penny understands the big difference between this corn dog and a regular one as the vendor reaches into the small refrigerator and pulls out two long chopsticks both skewered with half with a beef sausage and half mozzarella cheese. After the vendor dunks the skewers into the batter and spins them around to gather up a good coat, he drops them right into the boiling fry oil. The smell the frying gives off is oddly sweet, almost like a donut, which draws Penny in even more. Once the pair is done cooking the vendor pulls them out and places them on paper serving boats before sprinkling on sugar and spraying on lines of ketchup and mustard. The sight is mouth-watering, and the very easily excitable Penny can’t help but Whitley over to share her discovery. Whitley is…less than eager about her findings, he hadn’t really had junk food in years and honestly was too well-versed in nutrition to actively seek it out. But the smell coming off the stand was delightful, and he was already breaking many of his father’s rules just by being here, so what’s the harm in having a little treat?

They get in line and order two, one regular and one with potatoes, and sit down at a nearby bench to eat. Penny takes the original style while Whitley has the potato fried, as per usual Penny blows on her to cool it before her excitement and takes a premature bite. It’s hot, crunchy, and gooey as her teeth break through the crust and into the melted cheese underneath. The condiments give it a multilayered undertone as the sugar combines with the tangy ketchup and mustard. It’s a wonderful flavor mix, dancing on Penny’s tongue as she buffs and puffs to cool it down before swallowing. Hungry and entranced by Penny’s display of enjoyment Whitley also takes a hesitant bite. At first, there’s an odd sense of nostalgia as his taste buds are hit with a familiar flavor. It’s potato fritters, something his mother would sneak him and his sisters when they went out with her father before he became too ill to get out of bed. It’s a comforting flavor that is only amplified by the cheese and condiments. As they eat, Penny accidentally gets a nice cheese stretch going as she pulls back from a bite. Intrigued she pulls it further away only for the stringy cheese to stretch longer and longer. The feat amuses her greatly and she turns to show Whitley the silly situation she’s in.

Penny: Hmm!

She mutters, holding the other end of the cheese rope in her mouth while holding the source in Whitley’s face to see. Whitley chuckles at the ridiculous mess she’s made then without even two seconds of thought he bites off the other end from the corndog and sucks the string of cheese into his mouth. Now connected to her by a thin thread of mozzarella Whitley immediately started eating the cheese, carefully gnawing so the string wouldn't break as he got closer and closer to Penny’s mouth. Said girl is completely stunned by yet another bold move from her boyfriend, only regaining her sense when his lips are only centimeters from touching hers. Once out of her trance, Penny bites down hard, cuts the string from her end, and slurs up the remaining cheese. Whitley smirked at her shyness and finished off the rest of his half of the string before continuing to eat his corn dog.

Once lunch is over, they play in the snow for a bit. Penny rolls up big balls of snow for the snowman while Whitley gathers sticks and stones to decorate it. He smoothes out some of the shapes while Penny stacks the snow and they put the face on together. The first is a nicely made traditional snowman, minus the black top hat, festive scarf, and carrot nose.

Whitley: And he’s done. Not too bad for a locally sourced snowman if I do say so myself.

Penny: He looks so good, there’s hardly any big lumps or cracks in him either!

Whitley: You're welcome, smoothing him out without damaging his structure wasn’t easy but I think he was worth the effort.

Penny: Thank you for your contribution, Whitley, I really appreciate it. Now what do we name him?

Whitley: I’m not sure, mind throwing out some suggestions?

Penny: Hmm.

Penny thinks for a moment, names were a very subjective topic. The standard changes depending on what was being named. Animals could be named after people, food, and objects due to being living creatures but objects were significantly less emotionally precious to be given such monikers. Most often an object is named in relation to what it is. Racking her brain for everything snow-related, Penny comes up with a short list of possible names.

Penny: Snowdrop?

Whitley: That’s a little too feminine for a snowman.

Penny: Snowburg?

Whitley: I believe that’s the name of festive festive-themed glass workshop.

Penny: Snowdust?

Whitley: That’s the street name of at least three different illegal substances.

Penny: Oh.

Penny pauses again, trying her hardest to come up with something suitable for the lovely snow pal she’d created with her beloved. It had to be something memorable to commemorate the moment so she expanded her perimeters. And after several moments of silent contemplation, Penny finally decides what to name the snowman.

Penny: How about…. Lord Snowington!

She announces, proud of her choice as her boyfriend looks at her completely bewildered by her name choice.

Whitley..., Excuse me, could you repeat that?

Penny: His name is Lord Snowington!

Whitley: And what spurred this name into being?

Penny: Well, he’d made of snow but very well-crafted, so I gave him the Lord title and added the ington on as it’s commonly associated with people of wealth and higher standing.

She explains. Whitley takes a moment to absorb this information and finds himself laughing at Penny’s absurd reasoning. It was so on theme for her to use such sound logic in the most bizarre ways.

Whitley: I see. (chuckles) Well Lord Snowington it is then!

With that, their creation is dubbed Lord Snowington, and the pair soon decide he needs a companion. Unfortunately, by the time they begin building the second one a group of young teenagers, most like middle schoolers, have taken notice of their work and aim to ruin the fun. Without prompting one throws a snowball directly at the snowman’s head, only to be intercepted by Penny’s incredible speed.

Penny; Hey! Leave our snowman alone.

She shouts, holding the attempted means of snow destruction in her hand. The malicious juveniles take her stance as a challenge and quickly start gathering up snow.

Whitley: Looks like they want a fight.

Penny: I can see that, are you okay with engaging in light combat?

Whitley: Well, I haven’t thrown a snowball in years, but I wouldn’t mind giving it a try. Besides they’ve disrespected Lord Snowington, and that can’t stand.

Penny: Okay, then get ready for battle!

She cries before digging down to the ground and making her own snow ammunition. Penny had always wanted to have a snowball fight and she wasn’t gonna waste the chance to cut losses. Soon it’s an all-out war! The middle schoolers start hurling snowballs at the couple, their aim isn’t the best and their form is clumsy but they’re giving it their all. Despite being outnumbered both Penny and Whitley are quick-footed and coordinated enough to dodge the onslaught. When the opportunity to strike back comes Penny stands firm with direct attacks, throwing snowballs at those closest by while she guards Lord Snowington. Whitley takes a stealthier approach, compacting his snowballs to be steadier and aiming for weak points like stomach and legs to trip up their already messy formation.

In the end, the middle schoolers admit defeat and take off, Lord Snowington still standing in the aftermath. By the time Whitley has to get going they’ve made a little snow family, Lord Snowington Lady Snowington, their daughter Valley, and their pet snow bunny Carrot. Penny waves their snow friends goodbye as they leave the park, hoping they might last long enough to see again the next time she patrols the area. As they walk back to the station Whitley feels a wave of fatigue washes over him, all the physical activity draining the commonly sedentary young man. It’s been so long since he’d had that much fun while being so active his usual sluggishness is replaced by a more fulfilled sense of tiredness. Still, his body cries for rest and yawns, Whitley reaching up to cover his mouth on reflex only to be met by the fabric of his mask over his skin. Penny giggles at his clumsy moment and Whitley responds by playfully pinching her cheek as they continue walking.

This was bliss to him, being fun and silly with someone who loved and cared for him. Though it did make going back up even harder, sometimes just looking at her made Whitley want to stay and never look back. But he knew the consequences that would bring, and he had goals to fulfill before he could truly act as he wished.

Whitley: Just a little longer. Two more years at the most and less than that if I can find a big enough weak point to exploit until I’m of age.

Whitley muses as he bids Penny farewell before walking into the train station. He looks back once before going through the entrance, being graced with the view of Penny still waving him goodbye, an innocent smile bright on her face and eyes full of warmth. What a shame that she fell for someone like him, a person tangled up in a world so bleak it was eating him alive. What would she think of him if she knew the things he’d witnessed? How would she see him if she knew of the monsters in his company more often than not? What would she do if she knew what he was willing to do for his freedom and how much he’d already done for it? Whitley didn’t know but deep down he was sure that the less she knew of his true nature the better.

Whitley: Hopefully I can keep this clean enough to stay with her. Getting blood on those soft hands would be too cruel.

He thinks, marching towards the platform for his train, apathetic towards his departure back to the he he calls home. Still, the lingering scent of Penny on his clothes and the warmth her visage gave him was enough to keep him sane. He’d call her again tonight and the next morning, missing her every second until they met again. It was a torturous cycle but far kinder than any other he’d experienced. And for Whitley, that was more than enough.

#rwby #rwby fanfiction #penny polendina #whitley schnee

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