[ Meanwhile: in the back of Ruby's mind, Ozpin's presence has formed an incoherent buzz of alarm.
It sparked somewhere around Hey, escalated at StanFord, spiked with Rough last couple days— at this point he begins to articulate his concerns about believability, but loses it all immediately at We're good. <3 <3 <3
What he articulates instead sounds like 'Ah.' but it feels like a four-letter word.
The blank and ringing shock lasts several beats, then crunches down to something darker and more uncertain when Ford does not immediately reply. Certainly the man will take it as an unkind joke; he cannot actually think Ozpin would— but then the response comes.
I appreciated having you at my side.
Oh.
Oz subsides to a warm and uncomfortably raw buzz of emotion in the back of Ruby's head, watching the dots jump as Stanford types. When Oscar opens the door and she looks away from the phone, he flares annoyance. Oscar has brought them cocoa and cookies, but he is not inclined to dwell on the implications just now— or the rest of the complicated tangle that he forms in the back of Ruby's mind whenever they face Oscar, in general— because he is busy waiting for Ruby to read that final message.
You've been a good friend, Ozpin. Thank you.
Of course Ruby has to bludgeon the moment to death immediately. ]
'I would like to remind you, yet again, that Stanford and I are not romantically involved.'
[ He is scraping together his composure, ready to provide Ruby some much-needed advice about how to correctly follow instructions, when Oscar interrupts. But the boy only leans in and does not stop her, thus proving his betrayal. ]
'Ruby.' [ There is a note of pleading in it; he is at the end of his rope. ] 'This is not the tone in which Stanford and I communicate. You must understand—'
[ Wait, Stanford is typing. ]
'He... ah.' [ 'Ah' is really all he has for this situation. ] 'He has likely realized these messages do not reflect my usual tone, and is attempting to sidestep the rather heavyhanded emotional implications. I would not take his message on its face. He is likely concerned at best, and at worst, offended by the shift in tone.'
[ Ozpin is absolutely not panicking. That would be absurd. ]
[Ruby can feel the buzz in the back of her head. This whole having another soul inside her is not at all what she had pictured, but for the most part she's pushed that aside because the responses she's getting from Ford aren't particularly as negative as Oz seems to fear, and she can feel that weird warm feeling when those answers come about too.
It's enough to get her to keep going. She thinks briefly.]
Yeah, but you could be. Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move?
[She blatantly says out loud without thinking that Oscar couldn't hear Ozpin's statement. She blinks as the owl lands on her head and she reaches up to give it's feathers a little ruffle.
She glances over to Oscar.]
Okay-Okay. No more smiley's got it. But I think it's helping. Ford hasn't like called me an imposter yet.
Oz is trying to say they aren't in a relationship, but I think they might just need a little push.
How's this?
[And then she picks up the Fluid and starts to type.]
That would be wonderful, Perhaps we can do dinner, at my estate? Would next week be a good juncture? I look forward to your timely response. XOXOXO
Relax Oz, sometimes the direct approach is the only way to go.
[Oscar piped in quickly, realizing what was happening and wondering if the odd pique of confusion he felt was at all similar to what Qrow felt in the bar that fateful afternoon in Haven. He looked up from the screen at Ruby and-- suddenly noticing how close they were-- quickly backed to a more polite distance a way.
Cheeks darkened with embarrassment and confusion-- but, for a wild second, he wished he had a telepathy Semblance like Fox. At least then they could talk openly.
Diggs pulled lightly at Ruby's hair, preening the strands with an oddly delicate touch from it's sharp beak.]
They're definitely in a relationship if he got mad when he learned I was trying to help.
[A nervous chuckle-- that had been an interesting conversation.]
No x's and o's either. Perhaps say...
[He closed his eyes and tried to think of the most Ozpin like reply. Adopting his best and startlingly accurate impression of the headmaster, he continued:]
'I would be delighted. Shall we do dinner the next time we meet? We have a great many things we must discuss, Stanford.'
Yeah. He's just making a big fuss. I think he's just super shy, because there is definitely more going on here.
[She's a little too distracted trying to navigate the conversation with Oz and Oscar to realize how close Oscar is at the moment. The fact that Diggs is preening her is just another thing keeping her from catching that blush.
She glances back down at the message and considers Oscar's advice.]
No. The x's and o's definitely have to stay. You can never have enough of those in this kind of situation.
But-
[And she starts to fix the message.]
I would be delighted. Shall we do dinner the next time we meet? I would be happy to host at my estate. We have a great many things we must discuss, Stanford. I look forward to your timely response. XOXOXO
[ Ford is ready to leave it at that. Ford is hoping to leave it at that. Ozpin is obviously not in a normal state of mind right now, and continuing what's already a somewhat fraught conversation now that he knows that much seems unkind. Waiting until they're both feeling like themselves again seems like the far wiser decision by far.
But then Ozpin replies again. Ford, who has gotten up and taken to pacing around his room since sending his last message, checks his inbox and walks directly into one of his chalkboards. Ozpin is sounding both a little more like himself and a lot less like himself and Ford is increasingly at a loss for how to react. Sitting down first is probably a good start, which he does. Directly on the floor.
What the hell does that mean? An invitation to dinner isn't necessarily anything but platonic. The Xs and Os, on the other hand, are impossible to misread unless they somehow represent something completely different in Remnant. He can't even start to puzzle out the emojis. And the request for a timely response is... bizarrely bossy, if Ford's being totally honest. But if it's that out of character, shouldn't he go along with it? That's probably best, right? He isn't sure; the whole situation is complicated by the lingering hope that all of this is meant with total sincerity and the stubborn refusal to accept it as anything except a mistake.
This time, Ford's response comes after just a moment has passed. ]
I'd like that. Dinner sounds wonderful.
My schedule is free, so let me know what day works best for you.
[ The text comes in, and Ozpin is humming with tension, waiting for the furious hurt as Stanford realizes that someone is pretending to be— as best he could know— a dead man.
That is not what he receives. ]
'He can't possibly...'
[ Ozpin is at a loss for words. In the back of Ruby's head, he goes stunned-silent. There's only the briefest flicker of something warm and charmed at "Dinner sounds wonderful" before he recognizes that Ford is merely playing along. Trapping the impostor? Gathering data? It seems the Stanford thing to do.
He is still itching to snatch the Fluid and sort the rest out himself. It is only the fresh memory of Ruby's panic that holds him back. She is not his puppet. ]
'If you will not give it to me, please hand the Fluid to Oscar.'
[Oscar reads the following replies with his heart pounding in his chest, quietly praying to whatever gods or Sodder or whomever cared to listen that they did not just fuck up Oz's first romance in thousands of years. Biting his lip nervously, his gaze darted between Ruby and the screen while he mindlessly shoved a cookie into his mouth.
--Upon seeing the reply, he nearly choked.]
I-- I can't believe that worked!
[He blurted out, entire person lighting up with his glee.]
[ How long does it take Ford to respond? Only about a minute. Ford doesn't know that, though. You could tell him an hour had passed and he wouldn't be able to argue. The ;D has robbed all concept of time from him.
Finally, however, he responds. ]
Friday night is fine.
But I think you should get some sleep, Ozpin.
[ Preferably right now, so Ford can get some advice from Stan before the conversation continues and flies even more off the rails. ]
[Ruby can feel she’s probably stepping over a line here, but she has fo cross it. This wasn’t just about Oz’s feelings, this was about Ford. She had to make the move for Oz.]
I’ll do just that. I’ll be thinking of you, Stanford. ~Night Night~
[And just like that. She hits send and throws the fluid to Oscar.]
Stuffing one last cookie in his mouth, he caught the Fluid and took off.]
Keep in touch Ruby! I'll help with whatever I can!
[And with that he was gone-- not without the raucous sound of a small body unceremoniously tumbling down the stairs, punctuated with a chipper 'I'm fine!' before the front door slammed shut.]
It comes and goes within the span of a moment: there is no flash of gold, no fanfare, no out-of-body tug. It is simply that, in one moment, Ruby has full and easy control of her body. In the next, there is the painless but disorienting pressure of being joined in the driver's seat, and she (they) acts on a reflex that isn't her (their) own. They jolt forward to grab at the Fluid, a beat too late to stop Oscar sprinting off with it.
There is a distant clatter, a yelped reassurance, the slam of a door. Ruby's arm falls again, returned to her own power. In her mind, Ozpin shifts away from the front.
(If she will not respect his autonomy as an individual—)
(She is eighteen. She is exerting her newfound control over him in ultimately harmless ways. Stanford would not believe such a message to be him; it is not even an effective humiliation. He owes her patience.)
(Ozpin settles back with a distinct air of simmering irritation, anyway.) ]
'I see you're enjoying yourself.' [ He does not sound pleased. ] 'Tell me, how do you intend to make good on this romantic Friday evening date, given our condition? I don't imagine you will be joining Stanford for a dinner by candlelight.'
[It's a disorienting experience, something Ruby hadn't expected. A flash of panic bleeds through the emotional connection they have. Along with the distinct memories of Ruby's body being controlled by puppet strings by Bill just over a week ago.
She steels herself and tries to push those memories down. This.... wasn't the same thing. She kept mentally repeating that to herself until she it stuck.
She watches in the backseat of her own eye as Ozpin tries to get a hold of the fluid but Oscar makes his escape successfully.
She feels the irritation as he hands over the controls back to her and she flops back on her bed. Her breathing calming down at the loss of control.]
I was just trying to do a good deed. Come on, I got you a date after all.
[The next words hit her like a truck and she just lays there for a second. For about a solid minute she can't think of a proper response but eventually she settles on one that suits the situation.]
Fuck.
[She rolls over and buries herself in her pillow for a minute. Maybe if she suffocates the both of them, Oz will end up in an older, more age appropriate body and she can just expire.
Eventually she pulls herself out from pillow and says.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It sparked somewhere around Hey, escalated at StanFord, spiked with Rough last couple days— at this point he begins to articulate his concerns about believability, but loses it all immediately at We're good. <3 <3 <3
What he articulates instead sounds like 'Ah.' but it feels like a four-letter word.
The blank and ringing shock lasts several beats, then crunches down to something darker and more uncertain when Ford does not immediately reply. Certainly the man will take it as an unkind joke; he cannot actually think Ozpin would— but then the response comes.
I appreciated having you at my side.
Oh.
Oz subsides to a warm and uncomfortably raw buzz of emotion in the back of Ruby's head, watching the dots jump as Stanford types. When Oscar opens the door and she looks away from the phone, he flares annoyance. Oscar has brought them cocoa and cookies, but he is not inclined to dwell on the implications just now— or the rest of the complicated tangle that he forms in the back of Ruby's mind whenever they face Oscar, in general— because he is busy waiting for Ruby to read that final message.
You've been a good friend, Ozpin. Thank you.
Of course Ruby has to bludgeon the moment to death immediately. ]
'I would like to remind you, yet again, that Stanford and I are not romantically involved.'
[ He is scraping together his composure, ready to provide Ruby some much-needed advice about how to correctly follow instructions, when Oscar interrupts. But the boy only leans in and does not stop her, thus proving his betrayal. ]
'Ruby.' [ There is a note of pleading in it; he is at the end of his rope. ] 'This is not the tone in which Stanford and I communicate. You must understand—'
[ Wait, Stanford is typing. ]
'He... ah.' [ 'Ah' is really all he has for this situation. ] 'He has likely realized these messages do not reflect my usual tone, and is attempting to sidestep the rather heavyhanded emotional implications. I would not take his message on its face. He is likely concerned at best, and at worst, offended by the shift in tone.'
[ Ozpin is absolutely not panicking. That would be absurd. ]
no subject
It's enough to get her to keep going. She thinks briefly.]
Yeah, but you could be. Maybe he's waiting for you to make the first move?
[She blatantly says out loud without thinking that Oscar couldn't hear Ozpin's statement. She blinks as the owl lands on her head and she reaches up to give it's feathers a little ruffle.
She glances over to Oscar.]
Okay-Okay. No more smiley's got it. But I think it's helping. Ford hasn't like called me an imposter yet.
Oz is trying to say they aren't in a relationship, but I think they might just need a little push.
How's this?
[And then she picks up the Fluid and starts to type.]
That would be wonderful,
Perhaps we can do dinner, at my estate?
Would next week be a good juncture?
I look forward to your timely response. XOXOXO
Relax Oz, sometimes the direct approach is the only way to go.
no subject
[Oscar piped in quickly, realizing what was happening and wondering if the odd pique of confusion he felt was at all similar to what Qrow felt in the bar that fateful afternoon in Haven. He looked up from the screen at Ruby and-- suddenly noticing how close they were-- quickly backed to a more polite distance a way.
Cheeks darkened with embarrassment and confusion-- but, for a wild second, he wished he had a telepathy Semblance like Fox. At least then they could talk openly.
Diggs pulled lightly at Ruby's hair, preening the strands with an oddly delicate touch from it's sharp beak.]
They're definitely in a relationship if he got mad when he learned I was trying to help.
[A nervous chuckle-- that had been an interesting conversation.]
No x's and o's either. Perhaps say...
[He closed his eyes and tried to think of the most Ozpin like reply. Adopting his best and startlingly accurate impression of the headmaster, he continued:]
'I would be delighted.
Shall we do dinner the next time we meet? We have a great many things we must discuss, Stanford.'
no subject
[She's a little too distracted trying to navigate the conversation with Oz and Oscar to realize how close Oscar is at the moment. The fact that Diggs is preening her is just another thing keeping her from catching that blush.
She glances back down at the message and considers Oscar's advice.]
No. The x's and o's definitely have to stay. You can never have enough of those in this kind of situation.
But-
[And she starts to fix the message.]
I would be delighted.
Shall we do dinner the next time we meet?
I would be happy to host at my estate.
We have a great many things we must discuss, Stanford.
I look forward to your timely response. XOXOXO
Sincerly,
Professor Ozpin.
P.S. :) :D :>
[And then she hits send.]
1/3
'Ruby, I must genuinely stress...'
[ She thinks it's "helping." Of course. ]
'...that this is not how I would prefer to...'
[ "Dinner, at my estate?" ]
'Allow me to rephrase. You should not—'
[ "XOXOXO," and Oscar immediately redeems himself by trying to stop her, but she just barrels on anyway like a charging Boarbatusk— ]
'Ruby!'
[ Sent. ]
2/3
3/3
'Will you allow me to fix this?'
[ He means, of course, by taking control. ]
no subject
But then Ozpin replies again. Ford, who has gotten up and taken to pacing around his room since sending his last message, checks his inbox and walks directly into one of his chalkboards. Ozpin is sounding both a little more like himself and a lot less like himself and Ford is increasingly at a loss for how to react. Sitting down first is probably a good start, which he does. Directly on the floor.
What the hell does that mean? An invitation to dinner isn't necessarily anything but platonic. The Xs and Os, on the other hand, are impossible to misread unless they somehow represent something completely different in Remnant. He can't even start to puzzle out the emojis. And the request for a timely response is... bizarrely bossy, if Ford's being totally honest. But if it's that out of character, shouldn't he go along with it? That's probably best, right? He isn't sure; the whole situation is complicated by the lingering hope that all of this is meant with total sincerity and the stubborn refusal to accept it as anything except a mistake.
This time, Ford's response comes after just a moment has passed. ]
I'd like that. Dinner sounds wonderful.
My schedule is free, so let me know what day works best for you.
no subject
That is not what he receives. ]
'He can't possibly...'
[ Ozpin is at a loss for words. In the back of Ruby's head, he goes stunned-silent. There's only the briefest flicker of something warm and charmed at "Dinner sounds wonderful" before he recognizes that Ford is merely playing along. Trapping the impostor? Gathering data? It seems the Stanford thing to do.
He is still itching to snatch the Fluid and sort the rest out himself. It is only the fresh memory of Ruby's panic that holds him back. She is not his puppet. ]
'If you will not give it to me, please hand the Fluid to Oscar.'
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--Upon seeing the reply, he nearly choked.]
I-- I can't believe that worked!
[He blurted out, entire person lighting up with his glee.]
Ruby... we really do make a good team!
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Then the surprise once the actual response comes in. Ruby looks between the fluid and Oscar and let's out a giddy squeal.
IT WAS WORKING! THEY WERE DOING IT.]
Oscar, high five!
[She raises a hand for a high five and then brings her hands back down toward the device.]
Just have to seal the deal. Oscar, Oz is getting a little more testy. Let me know if things look dicey grab the Fluid and book it.
[She then start to type.]
Perfect~!
Friday night would be ideal.
It's a date.
;D
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Finally, however, he responds. ]
Friday night is fine.
But I think you should get some sleep, Ozpin.
[ Preferably right now, so Ford can get some advice from Stan before the conversation continues and flies even more off the rails. ]
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I’ll do just that.
I’ll be thinking of you, Stanford.
~Night Night~
[And just like that. She hits send and throws the fluid to Oscar.]
Run!!!
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Stuffing one last cookie in his mouth, he caught the Fluid and took off.]
Keep in touch Ruby! I'll help with whatever I can!
[And with that he was gone-- not without the raucous sound of a small body unceremoniously tumbling down the stairs, punctuated with a chipper 'I'm fine!' before the front door slammed shut.]
no subject
[ Sent.
It comes and goes within the span of a moment: there is no flash of gold, no fanfare, no out-of-body tug. It is simply that, in one moment, Ruby has full and easy control of her body. In the next, there is the painless but disorienting pressure of being joined in the driver's seat, and she (they) acts on a reflex that isn't her (their) own. They jolt forward to grab at the Fluid, a beat too late to stop Oscar sprinting off with it.
There is a distant clatter, a yelped reassurance, the slam of a door. Ruby's arm falls again, returned to her own power. In her mind, Ozpin shifts away from the front.
(If she will not respect his autonomy as an individual—)
(She is eighteen. She is exerting her newfound control over him in ultimately harmless ways. Stanford would not believe such a message to be him; it is not even an effective humiliation. He owes her patience.)
(Ozpin settles back with a distinct air of simmering irritation, anyway.) ]
'I see you're enjoying yourself.' [ He does not sound pleased. ] 'Tell me, how do you intend to make good on this romantic Friday evening date, given our condition? I don't imagine you will be joining Stanford for a dinner by candlelight.'
no subject
She steels herself and tries to push those memories down. This.... wasn't the same thing. She kept mentally repeating that to herself until she it stuck.
She watches in the backseat of her own eye as Ozpin tries to get a hold of the fluid but Oscar makes his escape successfully.
She feels the irritation as he hands over the controls back to her and she flops back on her bed. Her breathing calming down at the loss of control.]
I was just trying to do a good deed. Come on, I got you a date after all.
[The next words hit her like a truck and she just lays there for a second. For about a solid minute she can't think of a proper response but eventually she settles on one that suits the situation.]
Fuck.
[She rolls over and buries herself in her pillow for a minute. Maybe if she suffocates the both of them, Oz will end up in an older, more age appropriate body and she can just expire.
Eventually she pulls herself out from pillow and says.]
I guess I got us a date.