Deaged Oz AU - Oh, Jaques? RUN
Oz looked massively uncomfortable in the silver and dark blue clothing Winter had forced him into. Even though he was very aware that the point of this was to encourage the merge, he did not want to be anywhere near the Schnee manor. Especially not considering the promise he had made to Adam Taurus regarding the fate of Jaques Schnee.
"I am aware he invited you, Winter. But why exactly do you wish me to come along? I have no memories of the manor and I have actually been there before. Nothing triggered then, why would it trigger now?" He preferred not to think about what had happened the last time he'd been to one of these events, since he had spent most of the night glaring at Jaques Schnee... at least now he had an idea of just what may have triggered what had, at the time, felt like a rather irrational hatred of the man.
"You know there are things to remember now. Besides, the other person in your soul told me it might be a good idea to try. He really does not wish to absorb you. Nor would I wish you to disappear, uncle."
"But why blue? I know it's the Schnee color, but still... shouldn't the point be to bring less attention to this, not more?"
"Considering the color schemes of my father's parties, blue will draw far less attention than dark green would. Besides, the less attention on you, the easier it will be to find proof that my father actually had a hand in fixing the election."
Oz looked down, biting his lip slightly.
"What if we're right, Winter? The timing of my own kidnapping is suspicious considering your father's actions following that and my brother's death, what if he actually was involved in this?"
"Then there will be proof." Winter's voice wavered slightly, but she swallowed and continued. "IF he is, and it's a very big if, then at least that means that he deserves whatever fate you've planned for him?"
Oz stared at her, getting a flat look in response.
"I'm not stupid, uncle, I'm very well aware that you have some sort of plan to deal with him. Considering the implications if you are right... you do realise every kingdom was looking for the Infinite Man? The things Atlas could have accomplished..."
Oz shifted, looking uncomfortable. "I'm just a man, Winter, not even a very good one."
Winter looked unimpressed. "Quoting from that story isn't going to win you any points, you know... besides, isn't your relative worth a matter of opinion? You're a good man, Wintertip Pine."
"No. I'm not. But I think we may have to agree to disagree." His hand wandered up to his collar again, it still felt far too tight, the embroidery itching against his skin.
"Try not to fiddle with your collar. The sooner this is over, the sooner you can change out of it. I promise, if this goes right, you'll never have to wear it again."
Oz pouted. At least the coat was more or less a replica of his normal one, only done in a pewter gray and sapphire as opposed to soft gold and emerald. But the shirt was heavily embroidered with silver thread and felt wrong against his skin, the silvery wooden sheath Winter had found for Long Memory felt wrong in his hands. Part of him rebelled against the pretense and he worried that it might be that tiny fragment that was still Winter Schnee inside. Something was wrong, something that Jaques Schnee had been a part of.
Was he right? Was the timing too suspect, the death and kidnapping too convenient? It was very obvious that Jaques had desperately wanted the company after all... had he truly gone to that sort of lengths to get it? Nicolas Schnee's health had certainly gone into a steep decline after losing his sons, but could even Jaques have been that cruel? What would it do to Winter and Weiss, if he had been? Whitley and Willow, too... if he could so easily sacrifice others for his goals, what could he do to those he had left to control?
"I don't feel ready for this. But then, I never will, will I? The party to celebrate his questionable victory is tonight, there isn't a better time for it."
"You really don't want to do this, do you?"
"I fear that there may be other things at play that we cannot see. Look at Robyn's party..."
"Maybe. But either way, we need to be there. The probability is that he will be happy to see you. The brother in law that is not in fact dead. The possibility of him being horrified exists, but he is still my father. I prefer not to damn him without cause."
"And I fully understand that. I just... worry."
Oz was just as uncomfortable standing in the foyer of the frankly ridiculous mansion as he feared he would be. The sapphire and silver clothing he wore still felt ostentatious, but the surroudings were at least at a different enough level that he could relax slightly. He felt better for being armed, for all that Long Memory was still disguised, it was there. Bringing a weapon into a place like this, which conspired to make him feel even smaller than he usually did, was certainly a good idea.
Whitley sauntered up, eyeing his sister disinterestedly, before focusing solely on Oz. "Greetings, welcome to Schnee manor. Although, if you are a guest of my sister, you have shown rather poor taste so far. Ah well, you're young and you may yet learn better. I'm Whitley, by the way. You are?"
"Wintertip Pine." Oz stated, looking rather uncomfortable. "This place is... very, very big."
"It suits us. Is this your first time being in this sort of environment? Let me show you around. You're young, you really need to respect your elders."
Oz glanced at Winter, who looked amused. So, no help there, then.
Reluctantly, he followed Whitley, who proceeded to point out people and artworks almost as though both were of equal importance. Nothing about this place felt the slightest bit familiar to Oz. But then, if Jaques had altered it then it might not. His reluctance must have shown on his face, since Whitley picked up on it. "If you don't want to follow me, then don't. But I'm older than you, I know best."
"Appearences may be rather deceiving." Oz muttered to himself. "If you wish to make friends, maybe start without trying to order me around?"
Whitley rolled his eyes, looking for his father. Jaques wasn't exactly hard to spot, even in the crowd.
"Ah, father? Meet Wintertip Pine. He had the poor taste to show up alongside my sister, however I believe I may have got to him in time."
Jaques eyes swept Oz. He looked bored for a second before his eyes widened and he visibly started to sweat. He blinked, looking again, then quickly excused himself. "My apologies son, I have other people I need to meet. Welcome to your... little friend, however."
Across the room, Winter's eyes narrowed. Well, that was certainly confirmation of something.
Oz watched Jaques beat a hasty retreat, feeling vaguely sick. Next to him, Whitley made confused noises for a second before realising Oz looked less than surprised.
"Alright. Who are you, really? My father does not run away."
"I fear he might." Oz murmured softly. "At least when confronted by ghosts. Whitley? Would it be possible to meet your mother? I fear it may be rather important."
"Not without telling me who you are. My mother is delicate."
"I really am Wintertip Pine. But I was once known as Winter Schnee. I worry that your father might have something to do with that."
Whitley stared. "You're younger than me yet you claim to be my uncle? You do know that isn't actually possible, right?"
Oz sighed. "Magic is real. I can show you later in less crowded circumstances if you wish for proof. However as it stands, I really do need to speak with your mother."
"... I am going to hold you to that. Follow me." Whitley led the way up the stairs in a daze, Oz following close behind. Winter met them at the top, nodding to Whitley and smiling at Oz.
"Hello again, sister. I assume you also wish to speak to mother?" Whitley sounded very fed up at this point. Winter just nodded and followed the two boys down the hall. Any staff they ran into recognised Whitley and Winter, of course, though a few of the older ones blinked at Oz in confused recognition as he passed.
"Mother should be through that door, forgive me if I do not join you." Whitley wandered back down the hall towards the party, looking rather like he hoped the whole encounter was some massive hallucination.
Winter opened the door. Her mother sprawled in a chair on the other side, a bottle of wine in her hand. She looked up on her daughter's entrance, then froze as Oz followed her in, looking at the bottle in her hand as though it had personally betrayed her.
"I haven't drunk enough to hallucinate you yet, baby brother. So kindly go away? I'll speak with you and Nicky later."
Oz looked appalled. "Is she always like this?" He asked Winter in a hushed voice, that nonetheless travelled in the small room. Willow's eyes sharpened slightly. Obviously his question was outside the sphere of her usual hallucinations.
"Who are you?" She demanded. "How dare you pretend to be my baby brother?" Even as she glared at him, Winter moved in front, shielding him without even really meaning to.
"Mother? I know this is strange to believe, but this really is uncle Winter... a temporal semblance was involved, you see."
The glance she threw Oz was vaguely apologetic, though technically speaking she wasn't lying. Oz's presence did mean that his semblance was technically involved after all.
Willow stared at Oz. She blinked, shook her head and blinked again, but the image of her brother didn't change.
"Winny?" She murmured, sounding tearful. "Is that really you?"
"So I've been told. I do not actually remember you, though I'm sorry to say that. But yes, it's me."
Willow kept staring. "You... don't remember me?"
"I don't really remember anything. I was hoping you might be able to help. I really am Winter Schnee. I just... there's so much I don't know, Willow Tree." He blinked, he hadn't meant to call her that.
"... you really are Winny. If you call me that, then... I'm so sorry, baby brother."
"You have no need to be sorry, Willow."
"But I am. I never looked for you, I just accepted that you were dead, You were gone, then Nicky got himself killed and Jaques... oh, brothers, Jaques..."
"There's no proof he was involved."
But Willow had already gotten up, looking more determined than Winter had ever seen her. "I have access to the computer systems. If proof exists, it will be there. I failed you once, baby brother. I refuse to do so again."
Oz and Winter exchanged slightly shocked glances before following Willow down the hal to a a room that did, indeed, contain computers. The picture on the wall opposite made Oz stop, though. It was Nicolas Schnee painted beside a silver haired, amber eyed woman that pulled at something deep inside him. There were three children, Willow obvious by her white hair and blue eyes, a stout silver haired boy with equally blue eyes and a slight child, maybe three years old. The eyes that looked at him from the portrait were a match to his own.
Winter followed his gaze and winced, she'd known the picture all her life but the similarities between the youngest boy and Wintertip seemed suddenly, glaringly, obvious. She'd met Ozpin as an adult, though... the similarities would surely still have been there?
Willow knew what she was doing, bringing up records from further and further back as she searched. Jaques was organised... and arrogant... enough to have digitised everything and finally she hit on the messages that would hammer the nails into his coffin.
He had, indeed, instigated Winter Schnee's long ago kidnapping. More, he had been behind the riot that had claimed Nicolas Schnee Junior's life a scarce six months later. Cycling forward it was obvious he was in the habit of making deals with criminal enterprises, too.
Winter looked to Oz, a question in her eyes. Oz nodded. This was all the proof they needed to feel far less guilty over the plan than they might otherwise. That the most recent security videos showed him talking to a man who looked suspiciously like Arthur Watts about fixing the election was just further proof that he needed to die.
Oz sent a quick, coded message from his scroll to Adam Taurus' before meeting his sister's eyes. "We need to get Jaques alone. Will you help us deal with him once and for all?" He could only hope that her hatred for him matched up to the rumors but he refused to lie to his own family. At least that was a line Ozma could not make him cross.
Willow nodded. "I can find reason enough to draw him away. Are you sure you can deal with him though?"
Both Winters exchanged glances. "We both hold hunters licences. There are others around that may be willing to help if needed, but the whole reason hunters exist is to kill monsters. Not all monsters are Grimm." Oz's voice was firm and Willow stared for a second as though trying to place it before shaking her head.
"I cannot help you beyond drawing him away. Please, both of you... don't get yourselves killed? I don't think I could deal with the loss."
Jaques Schnee followed his wife, looking angry. "What's so important that you need to show me now, we're in the middle of a party, dear." His voice promised violence, but he stared at the room he was led to. It wasn't empty. His daughter stood on one side, the ghost he'd rather hoped he had hallucinated next to her. Winter had her swords out and pointed at him, the boy armed with a long stick of some sort of silvery wood. He backed up, only to hear the door lock behind him. This room had always been soundproof by design.
"And what exactly do you expect? Me to be scared of some crippled ghost? I killed you, Winter Schnee. You have no power here. As for my daughter, I own you."
Oz froze briefly, eyes wide at the confirmation, Winter snarling next to him. Coming back to himself, he rotated the cane, drawing Long Memory from its hiding place, knowing even as he did so that Salem would know, now, who he was. He didn't care, some things were more important.
Jaques Schnee watched the cane, eyes narrowed in sudden recognition, searching Oz's face. The silvery hair, the amber eyes, the dark glasses, all the clues were there after all.
"YOU", he snarled, and went on the attack. Unfortunately for him, the outcome was never really in doubt. Once Jaques Schnee lay, beaten and bloody, a third figure, armed with a smoking brand, emerged. Adam Taurus' face was savage.
The screaming lasted for a very long time.
