10 . september catchall

[clocktowers]

Who: Ozpin and CR; tap me at ochrona for a starter.
What: A return from the sea, among other things.
When: Late August into September.
Where: Throughout Trench.

Comments

[clocktowers]

[ It is oddly light and directionless, this moment. He has nowhere else to be; he has very little else where he might go, aside wherever Willow or Stanford can be found. And yet Qrow isn't the only safe harbor available to him. The city is weather-beaten and in disarray, yes, but it's nothing apocalyptic; they face a scattering of public enemies, not an army. They can simply go on. ]

Thank you.

[ He steps inside, and it's easy. He has, after all, spent an evening here before: it's familiar in the way of any safehouse, colored by fondness and old stress in equal part. Ozpin falls into step a pace behind Qrow, shrugging out of his wet overcoat as he does. It leaves him in shirtsleeves and a little rumpled by wind. ]

I do hope I haven't missed anything too eventful.

[bolstafir]

When isn't it eventful around here?

[Said lightly, with a tinge of self-deprecation. There have certainly been Events, of late, not least of which includes his forming a familial bond with Break as a mark of their partnership with each other. Add in Ruby's kidnapping, Ange's near-miss with Beasthood, and the brief episode of entirely less voluntary mindspace-sharing, and it's kind of been a lot.

Somewhat unsure of where to begin or if he should be the one taking a page out of Ozpin's book and simply letting all the unpleasantness lie, he starts leading the way toward the kitchen, aiming to make some cocoa for the two of them. Oz might notice ... that since the last he was here, there's been a new addition to the room -- a perfectly bird-sized door by the window that could be opened and closed by a creature with a beak and cleverness. Qrow notably does not so much as glance toward it.]

Seems like the dust is finally settling from that mess, though. Won't even have a horde of monsters to deal with when we get back.

[It's fine if he just casually acknowledges the elephant in the room as though it were nothing, right. There are no deep seated griefs or old traumas dug up here, just another bout of Trench nonsense that's over now.]

[clocktowers]

[ Ozpin follows him, and settles into a chair at the table while Qrow tends to their drinks. This, too, is familiar. It's an unexpected joy to be here in what he considers his own body, burdened by no permanent losses, no background discomfort of a new host fumbling through an unwanted partnership. There is no shadow upon him but the ache at having lost, and being set adrift in the wake of it— but he has known adrift to mean waking in a strange continent. Here he is in a familiar kitchen, offered cocoa and easy warmth.

There is a pause, nothing but the clink of mugs on the counter. Ozpin says, softly: ]

Indeed. I will take this world's idea of harshness over the one we knew, and suffer it gladly. Here, at least, the dead can always return home.

[ He knows the house has burned. Home isn't merely a building, after all. ]