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[At some point, Ozpin had carried him back to Clover's home. Enlisted the Spiritomb that had been hovering around to lull him to sleep, perhaps. Qrow doesn't really remember. He comes to with a start, and he jerks upright before a groan is pulled from his throat, a hand pressed against his side, fingers brushing against the burn scar there, under fabric that's ridden up. That's right....Ozpin had found him. And then...brought him here? He must have, because he wasn't able to call for help. He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his hand, trying to remember. There's....a hazy image of Ozpin sitting with him in one of those streets, against a wall mercifully free of blood, but he wonders if he imagined that.
Trying to stand turns out to be an unfortunate choice; he's not healed enough for it yet, apparently. (There's a note from Ruby on his nightstand with a grumpy face that could've told him that much, whoops)
But he finds his Fluid set up next to him, powered up again--at least for the moment, and an impulse takes him.]
where are you?
Trying to stand turns out to be an unfortunate choice; he's not healed enough for it yet, apparently. (There's a note from Ruby on his nightstand with a grumpy face that could've told him that much, whoops)
But he finds his Fluid set up next to him, powered up again--at least for the moment, and an impulse takes him.]
where are you?
[ Ah. For a very long moment, Ozpin simply stares at this message. He does not know what to expect next: has something else gone wrong? Is this concern for his absence? Or has Qrow regained enough lucidity to regret accepting Ozpin's help, his comfort? He is aware that he overstepped.
But it October, and there is no ignoring a practical message. He texts back. ]
I am with Winter on Princess Drive.
[ I am safe. ]
Am I needed there?
But it October, and there is no ignoring a practical message. He texts back. ]
I am with Winter on Princess Drive.
[ I am safe. ]
Am I needed there?
[Am I needed there? What a loaded question, honestly. Qrow'd like to snap, of course he's needed, would like to be bitter about Ozpin leaving them at a time of danger and uncertainty again, but he's lucid enough to realize that he's projecting, that this isn't the time or place for it.
It's an effort to be reasonable, though. Especially with the faint hazy memories of Ozpin tending his wound earlier still at the back of his mind. Too bad you can't cauterize wounds of the heart.]
not right now
[There's incense lit in the room where he's resting, presumably an extra precaution until he was well enough to properly fight again. He was not able to look for the others, but he hasn't heard any sounds of swords or explosions, which suggests things are quiet, for the moment.
....He hates that there's a small part of him that wants to ask Oz to come anyway, to have someone to talk to while his Aura works on his healing. He pushes the feeling aside; he's not that lost child anymore. Instead:]
it's safer if we all stick together, though
[That's the only reason that Ozpin should come back and nothing emotional whatsoever it's just good SENSE for him and Winter and even Raven to pool their strengths here. Ozpin had always been the one to emphasize teamwork, after all.]
It's an effort to be reasonable, though. Especially with the faint hazy memories of Ozpin tending his wound earlier still at the back of his mind. Too bad you can't cauterize wounds of the heart.]
not right now
[There's incense lit in the room where he's resting, presumably an extra precaution until he was well enough to properly fight again. He was not able to look for the others, but he hasn't heard any sounds of swords or explosions, which suggests things are quiet, for the moment.
....He hates that there's a small part of him that wants to ask Oz to come anyway, to have someone to talk to while his Aura works on his healing. He pushes the feeling aside; he's not that lost child anymore. Instead:]
it's safer if we all stick together, though
[That's the only reason that Ozpin should come back and nothing emotional whatsoever it's just good SENSE for him and Winter and even Raven to pool their strengths here. Ozpin had always been the one to emphasize teamwork, after all.]
[ Again, a delay as Ozpin regards the text and tries to parse out all that is unsaid in it. Safer if we all stick together. Ozpin has not been welcome as part of we since that day in the snow. The invitation to Clover Lane had been one made of a Huntsman's practicality, a very tenuous olive branch. This could be read the same way, and yet.
The idea that Qrow wants him back, even after that moment on the streets— bloodstained brick at their backs, Qrow's hand in his, Ozpin soothing him softly— well. Perhaps there were two ways the aftermath could have gone: Qrow would draw further away, or...
Or this. Perhaps it's strengthened something. Perhaps it was a show enough of good faith to matter.
Eventually: ]
I will return this evening.
[ Not that evening is a terribly stable concept at present. But, well. He'll be back soon enough. He'd not been planning to stay away for the remainder of the month— not unless Qrow truly reacted poorly to the show of affection. And it seems he hasn't.
He is too tired, already, to deal comfortably with this much heightened emotion. It wears on him more heavily than the fights against Grimm. ]
The idea that Qrow wants him back, even after that moment on the streets— bloodstained brick at their backs, Qrow's hand in his, Ozpin soothing him softly— well. Perhaps there were two ways the aftermath could have gone: Qrow would draw further away, or...
Or this. Perhaps it's strengthened something. Perhaps it was a show enough of good faith to matter.
Eventually: ]
I will return this evening.
[ Not that evening is a terribly stable concept at present. But, well. He'll be back soon enough. He'd not been planning to stay away for the remainder of the month— not unless Qrow truly reacted poorly to the show of affection. And it seems he hasn't.
He is too tired, already, to deal comfortably with this much heightened emotion. It wears on him more heavily than the fights against Grimm. ]
[He's a little uncertain about doing this, honestly. In the time he and Ozpin have been renegotiating their relationship, he hasn't asked his former mentor for anything directly. It was true what Oscar had said, after all; it was best not to push.
But the only magic he has is to turn into a bird. He does not really know many people that aren't from Remnant, otherwise. Vyng does not consider his powers magic, and they're specific enough to be unlikely to apply.]
there's this kid on the network that needs help from someone with magic.
[He forwards a link]
i told her i knew someone i could ask
[Notably, he promised her nothing. He's not even sure if he should expect anything. After all, Ozpin had hidden his ability to create fresh water until the situation in October had grown truly dire, after all. Asking Ozpin to use it for a stranger's sake may well be asking too much. He'd feel worse if he didn't try, though.]
so
i'm asking
But the only magic he has is to turn into a bird. He does not really know many people that aren't from Remnant, otherwise. Vyng does not consider his powers magic, and they're specific enough to be unlikely to apply.]
there's this kid on the network that needs help from someone with magic.
[He forwards a link]
i told her i knew someone i could ask
[Notably, he promised her nothing. He's not even sure if he should expect anything. After all, Ozpin had hidden his ability to create fresh water until the situation in October had grown truly dire, after all. Asking Ozpin to use it for a stranger's sake may well be asking too much. He'd feel worse if he didn't try, though.]
so
i'm asking
Edited 2020-11-15 01:49 (UTC)
[He finds himself undefinably agitated after his conversation with Pyrrha. He hasn't told the whole story to anyone since that day in the snow, and he finds it frustrating that the first one he tells is the girl they chose to be Fall, the girl who got killed for their cause without ever knowing what what their cause really was. The girl who would've signed up to become a key piece in a chess match that could never be won. Even complaining about it with Glynda doesn't quite ease the itch that still burns under his skin, and he decides, ultimately, to take a walk to clear his head.
Until, anyway, he spots Ozpin sitting at one of the outdoor tables at a cafe, quietly reading some kind of book with a cup of cocoa at his side. He should just turn around and walk away, cool down before he faces Ozpin at all, but instead ... he does something pettier.
There is no warning but the sound of beating wings, but all at once a bird flutters in and snatches his glasses off his face in its beak, before fluttering off a few feet away. Staring right at Ozpin, as though daring him to say something.]
Until, anyway, he spots Ozpin sitting at one of the outdoor tables at a cafe, quietly reading some kind of book with a cup of cocoa at his side. He should just turn around and walk away, cool down before he faces Ozpin at all, but instead ... he does something pettier.
There is no warning but the sound of beating wings, but all at once a bird flutters in and snatches his glasses off his face in its beak, before fluttering off a few feet away. Staring right at Ozpin, as though daring him to say something.]
[Left outside the house is a dark blue basket. Inside is an associate of tea, chocolates, a box of lemon drops, a bottle of wine and a copy of Charles Dickens, Christmas Carol. A blue Tardis-shaped card attached to the basket says, 'Santa' in silver marker.]
[ Gerry is calling Ozpin on the phone, only because he knows from experience that most older people don't like to text. Or, at least, he assumes based on experience. Gertrude never really enjoyed texting, but she did enjoy a good old walkie-talkie once in a while.
Gerry will keep calling until Ozpin picks up, and when Ozpin does, Gerry will offer a bright and happy: ]
Congratulations!
Gerry will keep calling until Ozpin picks up, and when Ozpin does, Gerry will offer a bright and happy: ]
Congratulations!
[ Ozpin does pick up, mildly concerned to find Gerry's name on his Fluid; the young man does not generally contact him outside of work. The greeting he's met with is, therefore, a relief, but hardly what he'd expected. The wizard gives a soft, perplexed chuckle at the enthusiasm. ]
While I'm sure I am glad to receive it, what am I being congratulated for?
While I'm sure I am glad to receive it, what am I being congratulated for?
[ Gerry wastes no time beating around the bush. ]
I heard you're seeing someone! That's great news. Are things going well?
I heard you're seeing someone! That's great news. Are things going well?
[ . . . ]
[ He is suddenly, horribly aware of the conversation he'd awoken to in the groupchat. How the gossip spread this quickly to Gerry is beyond him. Is it something Oscar would have mentioned so readily? Something has been simmering at the edge of his awareness all afternoon. ]
I see. [ It's a worryingly thoughtful I see. Then, still warm but distinctly chagrined behind it: ] While I do appreciate the sentiment, it's not entirely accurate. May I ask who you heard this from?
[ He is suddenly, horribly aware of the conversation he'd awoken to in the groupchat. How the gossip spread this quickly to Gerry is beyond him. Is it something Oscar would have mentioned so readily? Something has been simmering at the edge of his awareness all afternoon. ]
I see. [ It's a worryingly thoughtful I see. Then, still warm but distinctly chagrined behind it: ] While I do appreciate the sentiment, it's not entirely accurate. May I ask who you heard this from?
[ Gerry would leave it at that, but since Ozpin does seem kind of stressed out about all this: ]
...and by little bird, I mean Oscar. What do you mean, not entirely accurate?
[ Are you chickening out, Ozpin? Really? Right in front of a supportive coworker? ]
...and by little bird, I mean Oscar. What do you mean, not entirely accurate?
[ Are you chickening out, Ozpin? Really? Right in front of a supportive coworker? ]
[ Gerry says little bird and all Ozpin can think is of the horribly smug corvid that has been shadowing his lunch meetings with Stanford, and apparently their evening outings as well—
Oh. Yes, of course Oscar has spread the details of their connection even further than their allies from Remnant. Ozpin genuinely does need to speak with him about it, now. ]
Oscar seems to be reading a great deal into the time I spend with a friend.
[ Bold fucking words from a man who cuddled that friend in his lap not twelve hours ago. Oz keeps his straight face. ]
I'm afraid it's not quite what he imagines.
Oh. Yes, of course Oscar has spread the details of their connection even further than their allies from Remnant. Ozpin genuinely does need to speak with him about it, now. ]
Oscar seems to be reading a great deal into the time I spend with a friend.
[ Bold fucking words from a man who cuddled that friend in his lap not twelve hours ago. Oz keeps his straight face. ]
I'm afraid it's not quite what he imagines.
Sure, Ozpin. Whatever you say.
[ Gerry, of course, is in no way buying Ozpin’s deflection, and his tone of voice shows it. ]
All I’m saying is, if Oscar is even a little bit right, it might be nice to show this person that you care about them, and that you have good taste or you’re cool or something like that. Is your friend from earth?
[ Gerry figures that’s a reasonable guess, since that’s the case for most Sleepers. ]
[ Gerry, of course, is in no way buying Ozpin’s deflection, and his tone of voice shows it. ]
All I’m saying is, if Oscar is even a little bit right, it might be nice to show this person that you care about them, and that you have good taste or you’re cool or something like that. Is your friend from earth?
[ Gerry figures that’s a reasonable guess, since that’s the case for most Sleepers. ]
[ So the situation with Bill has gotten... weird. Definitely not good weird, but it's hard to tell if it's bad weird, which is more alarming than if he just knew. He's already told Ozpin some things about Bill, and this new flavor of weird seems like a good reason to finally bring him up to speed. Thus, early in the evening on on the 15th, Oz will get a message in his inbox. ]
Ozpin, could you meet with me when you're free? There's something I'd like to discuss.
Ozpin, could you meet with me when you're free? There's something I'd like to discuss.
[ But Ozpin doesn't respond. He doesn't respond that same evening, which is unusual but not necessarily alarming. He doesn't respond the next morning, either, which is decidedly more strange but not yet cause for panic.
When nearly 24 hours pass without an answer, Ford is finally concerned enough to try again. ]
In case my last message didn't go through, there's something I need to tell you as soon as possible. I'd prefer to talk in person if possible.
When nearly 24 hours pass without an answer, Ford is finally concerned enough to try again. ]
In case my last message didn't go through, there's something I need to tell you as soon as possible. I'd prefer to talk in person if possible.
[ And still there's no response. This is a long enough wait for Ford to get caught up in his own head and, of course, start over-analyzing absolutely everything. Their second to last meeting had ended terribly, no questions there, but he thought their last meeting had gone fine. Ozpin hadn't seemed reluctant to join him (not that Ford is good at reading things like that) and hadn't brought up the picture (not that Ford had thought to ask about it, either). More importantly, the bulk of the evening and the following morning had been nice. Really nice. It's probably, barring his celebration with Jheselbraum, the most pleasant time he's had with anyone that he didn't already consider family or a very close friend at the time. The idea of doing it again is extremely appealing, and it's when that realization creeps in that he has to admit that Stanley is right and had somehow called it nearly two months in advance. He hadn't dared to ask directly, but he'd thought the feeling was mutual.
But now, with the 'benefit' of hindsight, he can see all the ways that was a foolish assumption. He has, in many ways, matured past the childhood anxieties that prevented him for so much as properly shaking hands with someone. In many other ways those anxieties still cling to him and always will, a persistent fear of being viewed as weird or abnormal always dragging on his attempts to connect with other people whether he notices it or not (and usually, he doesn't). That Ozpin is quite strange himself doesn't do much to mitigate the unease. There are plenty of ways for their different types of strangeness to clash, to be so incompatible as to suddenly truncate whatever it was that was forming between them. By the end of the third day with no response he's forced to assume that's exactly what happened.
Ford tries several times to write another message, but he doesn't end up sending anything. ]
But now, with the 'benefit' of hindsight, he can see all the ways that was a foolish assumption. He has, in many ways, matured past the childhood anxieties that prevented him for so much as properly shaking hands with someone. In many other ways those anxieties still cling to him and always will, a persistent fear of being viewed as weird or abnormal always dragging on his attempts to connect with other people whether he notices it or not (and usually, he doesn't). That Ozpin is quite strange himself doesn't do much to mitigate the unease. There are plenty of ways for their different types of strangeness to clash, to be so incompatible as to suddenly truncate whatever it was that was forming between them. By the end of the third day with no response he's forced to assume that's exactly what happened.
Ford tries several times to write another message, but he doesn't end up sending anything. ]
[ So he may have messed things up completely, but by noon on the 28th he's decided that's fine. More importantly, he's realized that something a little more alarming than simply being ghosted might be going on. Deerington is dangerous, and while it's hard to imagine any of it posing a real danger to Ozpin that doesn't mean it can't. But even if he is being ghosted, he still wants to warn him. Ozpin had told him about the Chill, so telling about about Bill is the least he can do. He writes a message, erases it, writes a different one, then erases that as well. He repeats the process a few more times and is in the middle of deleting his latest attempt when Robert, who had crept into his room unnoticed while Ford was distracted, lets out a sudden Liii! that startles Ford into dropping his phone.
The message Ozpin receives simply reads: ]
If I did somjhge54
[ T h a n k s, Robert. That's exactly what Ford needed right now. Ford's heart nearly stops when he sees that the half deleted message went through. He takes a moment to remove Litwick from his room (and throw down some jellybeans to distract him) before returning to his phone and figuring that, well, he may as well get this over with. ]
Sorry. I sent that on accident.
I haven't heard from you in a few days. I hope you're alright.
Contact me when you can, and let me know if you need help with anything.
The message Ozpin receives simply reads: ]
If I did somjhge54
[ T h a n k s, Robert. That's exactly what Ford needed right now. Ford's heart nearly stops when he sees that the half deleted message went through. He takes a moment to remove Litwick from his room (and throw down some jellybeans to distract him) before returning to his phone and figuring that, well, he may as well get this over with. ]
Sorry. I sent that on accident.
I haven't heard from you in a few days. I hope you're alright.
Contact me when you can, and let me know if you need help with anything.
[ Ozpin has never experienced— never even heard about— the process of returning to one's home world and then being dragged back to Deerington. He has been aware that such a thing happens, but not what it looks like. Nor what impact it can have.
But perhaps there has never been a case quite like this.
When Ozpin bolts awake on December 28th, he comes awake gasping through the pain of Oscar's cracked ribs, Oscar's fractured jaw, Oscar's bruised face. His elbows and shoulders are numb with the strain of being strung up by Oscar's wrists. He can feel the boy's panic muddled with his own, calling him out into the snow.
The day is a blur of terrible effort and exhaustion and cold. It is a long time before he returns to the manor, where his Fluid still sits abandoned on the bedside table. When he finally does get home, he collapses eagerly asleep with a titmouse nestled into his hair.
Aura, it appears, regenerates more slowly in Deerington. More slowly still when split between two bodies. The next morning is no less painful, and Ozpin takes up his Fluid in clumsy hands, his wrists still chafed and swollen.
He does not expect the number of messages that await him. He does not expect the content of them, either. There's something I need to tell you as soon as possible could hardly be more worrying. It is a different bolt of emotion to read the aborted If I did something.
The last they'd spoken... well. Nothing had been said explicitly. Deerington's December impulses had been in full effect. But it's rather difficult to dismiss that morning spent warm together in the growing light of dawn. It hangs unaddressed over the accidental silence. So, heedless of his aching wrists, Ozpin writes back: ]
I am alright.
I'm sorry to have worried you. It seems I returned to Remnant for a short time.
Is there still something you'd like to discuss?
But perhaps there has never been a case quite like this.
When Ozpin bolts awake on December 28th, he comes awake gasping through the pain of Oscar's cracked ribs, Oscar's fractured jaw, Oscar's bruised face. His elbows and shoulders are numb with the strain of being strung up by Oscar's wrists. He can feel the boy's panic muddled with his own, calling him out into the snow.
The day is a blur of terrible effort and exhaustion and cold. It is a long time before he returns to the manor, where his Fluid still sits abandoned on the bedside table. When he finally does get home, he collapses eagerly asleep with a titmouse nestled into his hair.
Aura, it appears, regenerates more slowly in Deerington. More slowly still when split between two bodies. The next morning is no less painful, and Ozpin takes up his Fluid in clumsy hands, his wrists still chafed and swollen.
He does not expect the number of messages that await him. He does not expect the content of them, either. There's something I need to tell you as soon as possible could hardly be more worrying. It is a different bolt of emotion to read the aborted If I did something.
The last they'd spoken... well. Nothing had been said explicitly. Deerington's December impulses had been in full effect. But it's rather difficult to dismiss that morning spent warm together in the growing light of dawn. It hangs unaddressed over the accidental silence. So, heedless of his aching wrists, Ozpin writes back: ]
I am alright.
I'm sorry to have worried you. It seems I returned to Remnant for a short time.
Is there still something you'd like to discuss?
[ Ford actually manages to avoid working himself into a frenzy while he waits for an answer, but only because he throws himself into his death ray project with such single-minded focus that he's completely forgotten to worry about things like social interaction and basic human needs and the passage of time. He's a little delayed in getting back to the Fluid; only by about thirty minutes, but enough that he rushes to pick it up when he sees the message notification.
The explanation is so obvious that Ford feels like an absolute idiot for not considering it in the first place, even though he had no reason to think that a return home wouldn't register Ozpin's device as being completely disconnected from the network. Fortunately, he's too relieved for his embarrassment to stop him from sending a prompt reply. ]
It's alright. I'm glad it wasn't something worse.
[ Though when he sees the state Ozpin is in he might reassess the idea that it could be much worse. ]
There is. It's about another Sleeper that recently arrived.
We could meet at the cafe unless you prefer to talk somewhere else.
The explanation is so obvious that Ford feels like an absolute idiot for not considering it in the first place, even though he had no reason to think that a return home wouldn't register Ozpin's device as being completely disconnected from the network. Fortunately, he's too relieved for his embarrassment to stop him from sending a prompt reply. ]
It's alright. I'm glad it wasn't something worse.
[ Though when he sees the state Ozpin is in he might reassess the idea that it could be much worse. ]
There is. It's about another Sleeper that recently arrived.
We could meet at the cafe unless you prefer to talk somewhere else.
[ He seriously considers bowing to his injuries and inviting Ford to meet him at his home. Ozpin is tired, and Oscar is tired on top of it. The boy is still a fluffy little songbird, and if the shape is a comfort to him, Oz has no intention of shunting him back to his aching human self. He can acknowledge that they are currently in poor condition.
But October's aftermath had been worse, in many ways. And there is little to be done for damage to the face and ribs. He is not bedridden, and to have Stanford hovering awkwardly in the manor, after the way they'd last parted, is more than he is presently willing to bear. This is not a good time for reminders of intimacy.
Her voice still echoes in his ears, and her pitying smile, and the coolness of her hand against his (Oscar's) face. He is trying desperately not to think of it. So: they will go out. ]
I confess the experience has been rather strenuous, and it may be a few days before I am fully recovered. Still, I can meet briefly.
I will see you at the cafe.
[ Rather strenuous is a polite way to describe a face black with bruises, and the ginger, limping way he walks. But they will get to that in time. ]
But October's aftermath had been worse, in many ways. And there is little to be done for damage to the face and ribs. He is not bedridden, and to have Stanford hovering awkwardly in the manor, after the way they'd last parted, is more than he is presently willing to bear. This is not a good time for reminders of intimacy.
Her voice still echoes in his ears, and her pitying smile, and the coolness of her hand against his (Oscar's) face. He is trying desperately not to think of it. So: they will go out. ]
I confess the experience has been rather strenuous, and it may be a few days before I am fully recovered. Still, I can meet briefly.
I will see you at the cafe.
[ Rather strenuous is a polite way to describe a face black with bruises, and the ginger, limping way he walks. But they will get to that in time. ]
[ Ford calls instead of texting, for once, and when he speaks his usual excited energy is totally absent from his tone. ]
Ozpin, there's something I'd like to ask you.
Ozpin, there's something I'd like to ask you.
[ Ozpin has seen the post.
He... has many questions. Perhaps the loudest among them is baffled, almost indignant: that is what a demon looks like?
On the heels of that, in a tone of rather more desperation: why are you working with him?
Stanford had warned him, explicitly and repeatedly, about the thing known as Bill Cipher. Stanford had warned him very specifically against helping Bill to further his goals. Stanford had warned him about portals.
It is a relief to pick up the phone with Stanford's name on the screen. That tone in his voice, though, only makes something in Oz's chest drop out again with dread. When he replies, he sounds wary. ]
... I've seen the announcement. [ And your involvement in it goes unsaid. ] I take it this is related?
He... has many questions. Perhaps the loudest among them is baffled, almost indignant: that is what a demon looks like?
On the heels of that, in a tone of rather more desperation: why are you working with him?
Stanford had warned him, explicitly and repeatedly, about the thing known as Bill Cipher. Stanford had warned him very specifically against helping Bill to further his goals. Stanford had warned him about portals.
It is a relief to pick up the phone with Stanford's name on the screen. That tone in his voice, though, only makes something in Oz's chest drop out again with dread. When he replies, he sounds wary. ]
... I've seen the announcement. [ And your involvement in it goes unsaid. ] I take it this is related?
[ Well, at least Ford doesn't have to explain that part. But that's not as much of a relief as he'd hoped it might be. ]
It is. I--
[ Ford falters and falls silent, suddenly aware he doesn't actually know what he wants to say here. He'd been intending to ask for Ozpin's assistance, sure, but he can't jump right into that with no preamble. Not with such obvious, unasked questions hanging over them. The silence hangs for a long moment before Ford forces himself to continue. ]
... In November, when I first became aware that Bill was in Deerington, I made a mistake in how I handled him. Both the confrontation I had with him in December and his announcement earlier today are consequences of that mistake.
It is. I--
[ Ford falters and falls silent, suddenly aware he doesn't actually know what he wants to say here. He'd been intending to ask for Ozpin's assistance, sure, but he can't jump right into that with no preamble. Not with such obvious, unasked questions hanging over them. The silence hangs for a long moment before Ford forces himself to continue. ]
... In November, when I first became aware that Bill was in Deerington, I made a mistake in how I handled him. Both the confrontation I had with him in December and his announcement earlier today are consequences of that mistake.
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