[Willow nods and makes her way back home and to the library to wait for Ozpin. She's clearly distracted, lost in her own thoughts, as she sits in her usual chair.]
[ He doesn't know what to expect as he enters the library. But all is quiet; the manor is peaceful. When Ozpin steps inside, brushing a dusting of snow from the shoulders of his coat, he finds nothing waiting for him but Willow - apparently wound tight with energy, but looking wholly herself. ]
[Willow looks up at Ozpin speaks. It occurs to her that she probably could have had the kettle boiling by the time he arrived, but it doesn't seem to matter much either way. Instead, she just blurts out her news.]
[ Tara. Her love, whom she tried to raise and failed; Tara who is dead.
Ozpin's expression flickers through several emotions: a startled sort of amazement; then something more cautious, more uncertain, feeling echoes of Pyrrha; then it subsides, goes gentle. He examines the coiled energy in Willow and exhales a slow breath. Whatever else is in it, there is relief.
He lowers himself into his chair across from her and sits forward over his knees. ]
That is significant news indeed. I can only imagine the shock, for you and her both.
[Willow lets out a breath and nods. It's been an emotionally exhausting and confusing day to say the least, even if she's primarily choosing to be mostly happy over it. Especially taking into account the homesickness and general loneliness that ran rampant throughout October. There's still a lot of what ifs to consider, though.]
Ohh, yeah. You can say that again. She seems okay, mostly - Well, except for, you know, the usual post-squidiness symptoms.
[ This hangs for a moment too long. There is still something somber in the way he watches her, but he can see in the slump of her shoulders and the giddy sort of exhaustion in her face— there may yet be some sensible caution in her. He would like to think she knows too much, of him and of life in Deerington and perhaps even of herself, to rush wholeheartedly into the past.
She turned away from her lighthouse, in the end. He thinks that is the best preparation for this she could have. ]
I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that the broader adjustment may take a great deal of time. You have had time now to grow with Deerington, where for her, this must all be... rather abrupt.
Yeah... It's kind of a lot for both of us, I think. But we'll figure it out, and I really am glad to see her.
[She pushes her hair back from her face. That's certainly one of the things that's been weighing in the back of her mind - a year spent between Deerington and Trench, even factoring in her return home, it's impossible to recognize that she hasn't changed and grown since then.
Willow pauses to gather her thoughts for a moment.]
She remembers... You know. What happened to her at home.
[ It's soft, and lingers. Ozpin laces his fingers and inspects his clasped hands a moment.
Carefully: ]
This world purports to be a second chance for all of us. A life away from those we led before. I think, perhaps, her situation here is easier than it would have been in Deerington; none of us need to fear a return.
Yeah... I mean, Sunnydale's probably pretty good prep for here - it's kind of like... I dunno, Diet Trench.
[There's a pause as she rethinks that.]
Or, maybe Trench is Diet Sunnydale, depending on whether you're counting monsters or attempted apocalypses as the calories, but anyway. Buffy had a pretty hard time when she came back, and that was to her own hometown, with all her friends and family there.
[Ozpin has again managed to touch on another one of her concerns - how Tara will adjust to life in Trench, especially after being dead - hardly a surprise given he probably understands more than most how potentially complicated that could be.]
To go back can be more difficult than to move forward.
[ He says it lightly, as though it's speculation, but Ozpin has taken on the tone of voice and the distant expression used for thinly-veiled memoir. ]
There is a finality to death that is... best not disrupted. To see how your world has changed in your absence, or to recognize the change in yourself...
That is why your reunion may be, in some ways, more challenge than adapting to circumstances wholly new— no matter how disconcerting our present home can be.
[Willow listens quietly, and nods in understanding. It's not hard to tell he's drawing on his own experiences, of course.]
Yeah. Trust me, I get that now... I mean, it's all a lot, and really confusing, but it's not bad. It's just - I don't know. It's not like we can just pick up where we left off, right? And I don't want anything to happen to her, and that seems like it might be hard to avoid here.
Indeed it does. [ It warms some sympathy back into his expression, rising back from that too-thoughtful distance. ] This is plainly not a kind or gentle world to be reborn into. Even so, perhaps we should not judge it as a second Deerington: thus far it has seemed more real, more grounded, and more reasonable a home.
But it sounds as though you are both well-prepared for living among danger. She may yet rise to the challenge.
I guess we kind of have to rise to the challenges here. I mean, what's the alternative? Besides, she's got plenty of power of her own - she's been practicing magic way longer than I have. Maybe it even translated better for her here than it did me.
[ He smiles back, and it smooths away the last of the distance in him. Now it's that familiar mingling of pity, and fondness, and warmth: something that, taken together, approximates hope. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Yeah, I can wait until you get back. Don't worry - it's nothing bad or anything.
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[ Good news in Deerington was always a rare and rather volatile thing. Big good news all the more. ]
Would you like to meet me in the library?
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[Willow nods and makes her way back home and to the library to wait for Ozpin. She's clearly distracted, lost in her own thoughts, as she sits in her usual chair.]
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Shall I put the kettle on?
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Tara's here.
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Ozpin's expression flickers through several emotions: a startled sort of amazement; then something more cautious, more uncertain, feeling echoes of Pyrrha; then it subsides, goes gentle. He examines the coiled energy in Willow and exhales a slow breath. Whatever else is in it, there is relief.
He lowers himself into his chair across from her and sits forward over his knees. ]
That is significant news indeed. I can only imagine the shock, for you and her both.
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Ohh, yeah. You can say that again. She seems okay, mostly - Well, except for, you know, the usual post-squidiness symptoms.
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[ This hangs for a moment too long. There is still something somber in the way he watches her, but he can see in the slump of her shoulders and the giddy sort of exhaustion in her face— there may yet be some sensible caution in her. He would like to think she knows too much, of him and of life in Deerington and perhaps even of herself, to rush wholeheartedly into the past.
She turned away from her lighthouse, in the end. He thinks that is the best preparation for this she could have. ]
I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that the broader adjustment may take a great deal of time. You have had time now to grow with Deerington, where for her, this must all be... rather abrupt.
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[She pushes her hair back from her face. That's certainly one of the things that's been weighing in the back of her mind - a year spent between Deerington and Trench, even factoring in her return home, it's impossible to recognize that she hasn't changed and grown since then.
Willow pauses to gather her thoughts for a moment.]
She remembers... You know. What happened to her at home.
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[ It's soft, and lingers. Ozpin laces his fingers and inspects his clasped hands a moment.
Carefully: ]
This world purports to be a second chance for all of us. A life away from those we led before. I think, perhaps, her situation here is easier than it would have been in Deerington; none of us need to fear a return.
[ He looks up to regard her again. ]
It can simply be a fresh start.
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[There's a pause as she rethinks that.]
Or, maybe Trench is Diet Sunnydale, depending on whether you're counting monsters or attempted apocalypses as the calories, but anyway. Buffy had a pretty hard time when she came back, and that was to her own hometown, with all her friends and family there.
[Ozpin has again managed to touch on another one of her concerns - how Tara will adjust to life in Trench, especially after being dead - hardly a surprise given he probably understands more than most how potentially complicated that could be.]
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[ He says it lightly, as though it's speculation, but Ozpin has taken on the tone of voice and the distant expression used for thinly-veiled memoir. ]
There is a finality to death that is... best not disrupted. To see how your world has changed in your absence, or to recognize the change in yourself...
That is why your reunion may be, in some ways, more challenge than adapting to circumstances wholly new— no matter how disconcerting our present home can be.
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Yeah. Trust me, I get that now... I mean, it's all a lot, and really confusing, but it's not bad. It's just - I don't know. It's not like we can just pick up where we left off, right? And I don't want anything to happen to her, and that seems like it might be hard to avoid here.
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But it sounds as though you are both well-prepared for living among danger. She may yet rise to the challenge.
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[Willow grins.]
I think you'll like her, when you meet her.
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[ He smiles back, and it smooths away the last of the distance in him. Now it's that familiar mingling of pity, and fondness, and warmth: something that, taken together, approximates hope. ]
She is welcome here anytime.