[ Waiting, unsurprisingly, is not Mako's strong suit. Like the last time Ozpin saw him, he is a mess of nerves and energy. He spends the time until Oz appears pacing the foyer, telling himself he's looking for shapes in the mist and wants to be ready for Oz, but really it's just that he can't sit still. Mako feels like a caged tigerdillo, all impulse with nowhere to go. There is nothing he can do, and his world has become so small and so fragile.
Mako steps back immediately when Oz arrives, gives him the space to come in, ignoring the way mist clings to his coat like fingers, trailing in after him.
Before he closes the door, Mako gives a mist a dark-eyed look, frowning out into the mass.
Then he turns to Oz and both his brows shoot up. ]
You look like crap.
[ A beat. Heat curls into Mako's cheeks. ]
Uh. No, actually, I mean that, you don't look well. We're fine. As fine as we can be. We have... a lot of dumplings, if you want any.
[ This is about the fifth time someone has said as much to his face in as many months, and Ozpin sighs as he brushes the clinging damp from his arms. ]
I wouldn't refuse.
[ They do not have anything particularly fresh left at home, and he cannot yet determine how long the supply will last. He'd been counting on their collective hunting capabilities, all this time. Now there is nothing to them but their meager stockpile. ]
I am fine. It's simply been... a difficult week.
[ He shall need to brave the fog just to check on Stanford, soon. The man shouldn't be left alone to work himself into more and more of a panicked frenzy. And it's only a few days til she is back again. ]
[ Mako gets rude when he gets worried, and right now, he is worried about everything, up to and including Oz. ]
C'mon. In the kitchen.
[ Mako waves a hand, already turning to lead him through the ridiculous marble foyer—really, pay no attention to the statue of his brother in fuzzy shorts and little else—to the kitchen near the back of the house. There's a side-door in there, and the mist lurks outside that. They can test whatever Oz's thing is in there. ]
Why so difficult? The mist? The sense of impending doom? The fact that there's nothing we can do about any of it?
[ Ozpin's gaze lands on the statue and lingers, bemused, but he makes no comment. He follows all the same. ]
All these and more, I'm afraid.
[ He hesitates to elaborate. Mako is his neighbor and, if he is to take this liberty, a friend. It is not unlikely that he will come into her line of fire, if Ozpin is not very careful in carrying out his task. It is not unlikely that some resident of Ozpin's home will tell him the story before Ozpin himself gets a chance.
But for now, she is out of play. They have more pressing concerns. ]
As I've said, I have some capacity to navigate the mist. You may have more need of it than me.
[ Mako looks back over his shoulder at that, his brows lifting. That's a lot more than he was expecting. He still has questions about what has Oz so tired, but really, they're all exhausted. Everyone is exhausted and apparently Oz has even more than that, which is... really just par for the course, for this place.
No wonder he looks so tired. It's kinder of him, then, to offer a way to help even with all that weight on his shoulders.
Mako moves over to the freezer and pulls out maybe more dumplings than he would have otherwise, frozen in plastic bags. Convenient things, those. ]
It is hard to check on the caches when my bending isn't working. Should be able to rely on the sun, but I guess even that's breaking. How does it work?
[ He smiles, now, the small and genuine smile of a man given a chance to reveal a magic trick. He removes his glasses: small, round, cracked in one lens. They're tinted a gentle amber that match his eyes and Mako's. ]
These arrived in my Blessings Basket some months ago. They allow clear sight through all conditions— even darkness, and even these.
[ Greater distances are still hazy with white, but compared to the range of vision he's discovered without help of the glasses... it is something. ]
[ The terribly convenient thing about being a firebender, and working with steam-based frozen foods, is that all Mako has to do is pull down their makeshift steam basket (made of some soft wood they'd found out back), pile up some dumplings in it as he watches Ozpin, and let it sit there in his hands while he pushes in slow, gentle heat. ]
They're...
[ Mako contemplates them for a moment, stepping closer over wide kitchen tiles with the basket just starting to steam. ]
[ Okay probably it's rude to insult a gift someone is actively attempting to give you. Mako realizes this at Ozpin's little smile, and tries to ignore the embarrassed flush creeping up onto his cheeks by pulling the top off the steamer. ]
I'll, uh. Trade you. You don't need them to see, do you?
[ Why would anyone from Remnant wear something practical? ]
A trade it is.
[ He looks only more amused at Mako's fumbling; it is genuinely difficult to insult Ozpin to a point that he will snap about it, particularly after a few weeks spent with Glitch under his roof. He offers out the spindly glasses and quirks an eyebrow. ]
[ They really are spindly. Mako shifts all the dumplings to one hand to take them delicately between two fingers. They're small, and look like the kind of pointless fashion thing he never had the money or patience for, but if they really can help—
Belatedly, he holds out the steamer basket, balanced carefully. ]
[ About as tactful as his young housemates, and so Ozpin accepts the basket with a growing grin. ]
Thank you. Might I trouble you for chopsticks?
[ If he is already here, he might as well make himself at home; he invites himself to a seat in the kitchen while Mako frowns over his new accessory. Even with the mist just outside their doorstep, it feels like a little spot of comfort, brighter than home. ]
[ Mako slips the glasses onto his face, delicate so he doesn't snap them or something, and then turns around with only a little bit of vertigo to grab for chopsticks.
He blinks, looking out the window, his hand on the half-open drawer. ]
Woah. These are—you weren't kidding.
[ Rather than a swirling mass, Mako can see shapes outside the window: the cactus that sprouted up last month, a few bushes, the dark mass of the gazebo far in the yard.
[ Distractedly, Mako hands them over, reaching out to pass them into Oz's fingers. He's still half-looking out the window, blinking behind the tiny lenses.
He almost doesn't say anything. In the past, he wouldn't have: this is a useful thing, and very needed.
But Mako has changed, so after a moment he turns back around, looking over the top of them at Ozpin, sitting in his kitchen with a pile of steaming dumplings. Maybe he should make tea, ward off the mist's chill. ]
And you're sure you don't need these.
[ That scrappy little part of him is yelling at him not to ask, to just take the gift, but Mako doesn't live by that part of his life. Not anymore. ]
[ Ozpin pauses with a dumpling between his chopsticks. He sets it back down again and smiles, warm and genuine. ]
You seem to have greater need of them, given the effort to maintain the caches. And I have been fighting monsters a very long time. I can function well enough without.
[ He can lean upon his magic when he must, and that helps a little. It helps enough. ]
[ Protesting any more than that is pointless, but an odd curl of warmth swirls up in Mako all the same. He offers Ozpin a small smile back and comes over to lean on the counter opposite him, looking a little silly in the glasses. ]
They'll be put to good use. Thank you. That's... everyone here is really willing to help each other out. It took some getting used to.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Mako steps back immediately when Oz arrives, gives him the space to come in, ignoring the way mist clings to his coat like fingers, trailing in after him.
Before he closes the door, Mako gives a mist a dark-eyed look, frowning out into the mass.
Then he turns to Oz and both his brows shoot up. ]
You look like crap.
[ A beat. Heat curls into Mako's cheeks. ]
Uh. No, actually, I mean that, you don't look well. We're fine. As fine as we can be. We have... a lot of dumplings, if you want any.
no subject
I wouldn't refuse.
[ They do not have anything particularly fresh left at home, and he cannot yet determine how long the supply will last. He'd been counting on their collective hunting capabilities, all this time. Now there is nothing to them but their meager stockpile. ]
I am fine. It's simply been... a difficult week.
[ He shall need to brave the fog just to check on Stanford, soon. The man shouldn't be left alone to work himself into more and more of a panicked frenzy. And it's only a few days til she is back again. ]
no subject
C'mon. In the kitchen.
[ Mako waves a hand, already turning to lead him through the ridiculous marble foyer—really, pay no attention to the statue of his brother in fuzzy shorts and little else—to the kitchen near the back of the house. There's a side-door in there, and the mist lurks outside that. They can test whatever Oz's thing is in there. ]
Why so difficult? The mist? The sense of impending doom? The fact that there's nothing we can do about any of it?
no subject
All these and more, I'm afraid.
[ He hesitates to elaborate. Mako is his neighbor and, if he is to take this liberty, a friend. It is not unlikely that he will come into her line of fire, if Ozpin is not very careful in carrying out his task. It is not unlikely that some resident of Ozpin's home will tell him the story before Ozpin himself gets a chance.
But for now, she is out of play. They have more pressing concerns. ]
As I've said, I have some capacity to navigate the mist. You may have more need of it than me.
no subject
[ Mako looks back over his shoulder at that, his brows lifting. That's a lot more than he was expecting. He still has questions about what has Oz so tired, but really, they're all exhausted. Everyone is exhausted and apparently Oz has even more than that, which is... really just par for the course, for this place.
No wonder he looks so tired. It's kinder of him, then, to offer a way to help even with all that weight on his shoulders.
Mako moves over to the freezer and pulls out maybe more dumplings than he would have otherwise, frozen in plastic bags. Convenient things, those. ]
It is hard to check on the caches when my bending isn't working. Should be able to rely on the sun, but I guess even that's breaking. How does it work?
no subject
[ He smiles, now, the small and genuine smile of a man given a chance to reveal a magic trick. He removes his glasses: small, round, cracked in one lens. They're tinted a gentle amber that match his eyes and Mako's. ]
These arrived in my Blessings Basket some months ago. They allow clear sight through all conditions— even darkness, and even these.
[ Greater distances are still hazy with white, but compared to the range of vision he's discovered without help of the glasses... it is something. ]
no subject
They're...
[ Mako contemplates them for a moment, stepping closer over wide kitchen tiles with the basket just starting to steam. ]
...kind of small.
no subject
It's a fashion of which I am fond, I'm afraid. I assure you, they still function quite well.
[ Actually the range of vision is absurdly bad and anyone could tell you they look stupid. Ozpin disagrees. ]
no subject
I'll, uh. Trade you. You don't need them to see, do you?
no subject
[ Why would anyone from Remnant wear something practical? ]
A trade it is.
[ He looks only more amused at Mako's fumbling; it is genuinely difficult to insult Ozpin to a point that he will snap about it, particularly after a few weeks spent with Glitch under his roof. He offers out the spindly glasses and quirks an eyebrow. ]
no subject
Belatedly, he holds out the steamer basket, balanced carefully. ]
Here. You look like you need them.
[ Tactful! ]
no subject
Thank you. Might I trouble you for chopsticks?
[ If he is already here, he might as well make himself at home; he invites himself to a seat in the kitchen while Mako frowns over his new accessory. Even with the mist just outside their doorstep, it feels like a little spot of comfort, brighter than home. ]
no subject
He blinks, looking out the window, his hand on the half-open drawer. ]
Woah. These are—you weren't kidding.
[ Rather than a swirling mass, Mako can see shapes outside the window: the cactus that sprouted up last month, a few bushes, the dark mass of the gazebo far in the yard.
It's so much more than he could see before. ]
no subject
[ He sounds very pleased with himself, even as he leans over his gifted basked of dumplings to reach for the chopsticks. ]
An early gift from Sodder. They have served me well for some months now.
no subject
He almost doesn't say anything. In the past, he wouldn't have: this is a useful thing, and very needed.
But Mako has changed, so after a moment he turns back around, looking over the top of them at Ozpin, sitting in his kitchen with a pile of steaming dumplings. Maybe he should make tea, ward off the mist's chill. ]
And you're sure you don't need these.
[ That scrappy little part of him is yelling at him not to ask, to just take the gift, but Mako doesn't live by that part of his life. Not anymore. ]
no subject
You seem to have greater need of them, given the effort to maintain the caches. And I have been fighting monsters a very long time. I can function well enough without.
[ He can lean upon his magic when he must, and that helps a little. It helps enough. ]
I will be glad to see them go to good use.
no subject
They'll be put to good use. Thank you. That's... everyone here is really willing to help each other out. It took some getting used to.
no subject
If there is any consistent lesson in Deerington... it is that we have each other.
[ He raises his dumpling like a toast. It is, in fact, delicious. ]