Alignment: Chaotic Schneebling - RWBY, Schnee siblings timetravel
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low effort life
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- Feb 19, 2013
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All is well in the Schnee household. The stocks are up, the tariffs are down, and Jacques Schnee has a rare moment to spend with his family. A glass of wine and a nice book to unwind, leaving the office for tomorrow, and the night to spend with his wife and young daughter.
Children really do grow up very fast. Why, just last quarter she was struggling to move around, now she's apparently a little grimm with all her energy. Well, that's Willow's concern. Jacques has better things to occupy his time than drooling toddlers. Fortunately, Winter isn't that noisy. He'd hate to have to get up and do something about it if she was. He's rather comfortable right now.
"Ma-ma-ma." Oh, and that's right, she'd said her first word not too long ago. Only that and disjointed syllables so far.
Come to think of it, he muses as he sips at his glass, this really must be the first time he's spending time with Willow and Winter since she was born. He probably ought to correct that at least a bit. It wouldn't do for the girl to not know who her father was. Even now she looks curiously at him, alternating between staring at him and her mother.
On a whim, he's not feeling this book right now, Jacques gets up and walks over to Willow and Winter. "Willow," he lays a hand on her shoulder, "how are my girls doing today?"
"Mama." Winter grabs clumsily at her mother's shawl.
His wife gives him a distracted smile. "That's right liebling, I'm Mama. And that's Papa. Pa-pa."
Big blue eyes stare up at him. "Mmm-mo-mowa." Jacques can't help but roll his eyes. Babies. Winter keeps rolling syllables between fat lips, a frown on her rotund face. "Mo-wa-da. Mo-daw." It appears that rather than 'papa', Winter's new word of the day will be 'mother'.
Not that he cares about what words a baby can or cannot say.
Winter suddenly brightens, laughing, and extends a chubby hand in his direction. "Modaffoca!"
Jacques drops his glass. Willow gasps. Winter laughs and repeats the word. "Mo-da-fo-ca! Modaffoca, modaffooca!"
"What in the- Who's been teaching my daughter such filth!" He explodes.
"Jacques! Please, gods, nobody! She's just a baby, she's just playing with sounds!" Willow barely raises her voice, shushing the laughing baby in her arms by bouncing her. "I'll correct this, don't worry."
Of course. Winter's not even a year old yet, she doesn't know what her behavior means. Jacques rubs the bridge of his nose. Well, no matter, Willow will handle the situation. Dust help them if Jacques has to be the one to be involved in child-rearing, he'd set her straight one way or another.
And yet, as he shoots his daughter a glance, he can't help but think (foolishly) that Winter knows something he doesn't.
Children really do grow up very fast. Why, just last quarter she was struggling to move around, now she's apparently a little grimm with all her energy. Well, that's Willow's concern. Jacques has better things to occupy his time than drooling toddlers. Fortunately, Winter isn't that noisy. He'd hate to have to get up and do something about it if she was. He's rather comfortable right now.
"Ma-ma-ma." Oh, and that's right, she'd said her first word not too long ago. Only that and disjointed syllables so far.
Come to think of it, he muses as he sips at his glass, this really must be the first time he's spending time with Willow and Winter since she was born. He probably ought to correct that at least a bit. It wouldn't do for the girl to not know who her father was. Even now she looks curiously at him, alternating between staring at him and her mother.
On a whim, he's not feeling this book right now, Jacques gets up and walks over to Willow and Winter. "Willow," he lays a hand on her shoulder, "how are my girls doing today?"
"Mama." Winter grabs clumsily at her mother's shawl.
His wife gives him a distracted smile. "That's right liebling, I'm Mama. And that's Papa. Pa-pa."
Big blue eyes stare up at him. "Mmm-mo-mowa." Jacques can't help but roll his eyes. Babies. Winter keeps rolling syllables between fat lips, a frown on her rotund face. "Mo-wa-da. Mo-daw." It appears that rather than 'papa', Winter's new word of the day will be 'mother'.
Not that he cares about what words a baby can or cannot say.
Winter suddenly brightens, laughing, and extends a chubby hand in his direction. "Modaffoca!"
Jacques drops his glass. Willow gasps. Winter laughs and repeats the word. "Mo-da-fo-ca! Modaffoca, modaffooca!"
"What in the- Who's been teaching my daughter such filth!" He explodes.
"Jacques! Please, gods, nobody! She's just a baby, she's just playing with sounds!" Willow barely raises her voice, shushing the laughing baby in her arms by bouncing her. "I'll correct this, don't worry."
Of course. Winter's not even a year old yet, she doesn't know what her behavior means. Jacques rubs the bridge of his nose. Well, no matter, Willow will handle the situation. Dust help them if Jacques has to be the one to be involved in child-rearing, he'd set her straight one way or another.
And yet, as he shoots his daughter a glance, he can't help but think (foolishly) that Winter knows something he doesn't.
lol. i've had a couple of 'Schnee Peggy Sue' ideas in the works, but this is the only non-angsty one, involving a 3 schnee team up against their father and the world. did I manage to convey Jacques' sleezyness across, I'm not sure about that...