Mercymorn the First (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
acidjail) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-10-06 03:30 pm
acidjail) wrote in deercountry2022-10-06 03:30 pm
acidjail) wrote in deercountry2022-10-06 03:30 pm
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[And it hurt to hear that this was what Paul had thought of him-- as someone that wouldn't help, who didn't have faith in his friends. Those ideas were the very things that all of his friends had worked towards in Remnant, even when they were forced to split their party and work without being able to coordinate. Not trusting each other would have led to disaster.]
...You don't need to carry all of this alone, you know. I meant it when I said that I'd stand with you.
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[A breath short of saying that he isn't safe, but the implication hangs heavy anyway. It diminishes him, makes him softer, more human, inside the blaze of his own sort of aura.]
But that's never stopped you before.
[Almost wry, almost a shivered exhale of something far short of laughter.]
All right. Here I am. You found me. What now?
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[At least he could see Paul-- and see where the flames were coming from. Those two factors made a significant enough difference for Oscar to trust both Paul and his own instincts on the matter.
This was a far different situation from when he and Ruby tag teamed the Lamp, without even knowing that it was drawing Grimm towards them and everyone around them.
Hands still raised, Oscar be stepped forward. ]
Just stay there, okay? I'm going to try something.
--Diggs?
[He called softly, and his little omen manifested nearby. They were a small deer-like creature about the size of and with the wings and feathers of a Bird. Their plumage matched the tones of Oscar's owl shape, and they looked on with large, sad eyes.
Oscar cast the little omen a wry smile that was more sad than sweet,]
... Just stick around, okay? Maybe we can help our friend feel better.
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He still steps back when Oscar steps forward, like a dance partner, like a reflex. But only one step, and no further, as Oscar calls his amalgam Omen that - even now - Paul looks at with the soft wonder of new discovery.]
What are you?
[He asks the Omen, in the gentle, low voice he uses on wild things, crouching down to one knee to get a better look at them. At the edge of his flames, a tiny black shadow trembles, falls away from him to squirm on the sand, and Paul covers her with his hand almost at once without glancing down.]
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I'm what remains of the dream carried by the child that fell through the world.
[The concepts of 'dream' and 'remnant' collided with the theme of his favorite fairy tale, and it was enough to cause Oscar to suck in a soft breath as the memory of his own pain was brought to the surface once more. Mentions of her made Oscar uneasy-- but, underneath everything he had decided to do was his own feelings about a girl he had never met.... and now never would meet.]
She never had a chance to be a kid, or grow up to find the kind of person that she was supposed to be.
[Oscar explained quietly, his own voice barely carrying over the groping grasp of the sea. He glanced between Diggs and Paul with a pained look in his eyes before he finally shook his head and explained himself.]
We thought we were saving her. At least-- I thought we were saving her.
Instead, I made a terrible mistake. A girl that never got to live is remembered as a monster...
And I'm here.
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No. She never did.
[Julia Sodder, the much remembered. Julia Sodder, the hopelessly revered, her salvation all beyond her now. The girl whose bones this world awakened from, and all of her aspirations cast off to never be.
Paul knows who Julia Sodder is. Sometimes, he feels like he nearly knows her himself, that pale and lingering ghost.]
It wasn't only your mistake.
[Paul holds his other hand out towards Diggs, palm up, enticing but not demanding. He doesn't look at Oscar, but his coaxing softness isn't only for the little, grave Omen.]
Which part of that do you see in me? [An odd question, after everything else, or perhaps not.] The little girl? The dream? The mistake? The people who made it?
no subject
Such a gesture had only been shared between himself and Ozpin, their linked souls making matters of this nature seem as comfortable as sitting in a library with only a book for company. The only others he knew who probably shared such a relationship had been the younger Pines twins-- now asleep in the sea while they continued their lives on their Earth.]
...I played a bigger role in it than most of them.
[He explained tightly, looking out towards the sea in an impulsive, desperate attempt to not be seen further.]
I was hurting and not thinking clearly. The world was ending, Salem had arrived and made her mark in our lives. Ozpin died getting us the only clue we had to guide our decisions, and Ruby and I both played messenger to relay what we knew in the week before Ozpin returned for a second time that season.
[Oscar bit his lip, and fought off the hot, angry stinging that prickled at the edges of his eyes.]
When I look at you, I see that girl. I see her brushing off her bumps and bruises, because nothing hurts worse than the loneliness in her chest.
[Julia. And the Girl who Fell Through the World.]
And, in that girl, I see what I could have been in another world...
And in another lifetime.
no subject
Have you ever heard the one about not stabbing the messenger?
[He asks, tilting his head slightly to one side. It's not a mocking question, or a judgmental one, despite not being intended to be answered. He turns his attention back to Diggs. It's easier to look at him than it is to keep looking at Oscar - to see Oscar looking back at him. He isn't the only one in this conversation with a capacity for perceiving people accurately.]
You trusted what you were told. You interpreted it according to what you knew at the time. [His own Omen shivers hard under his cupped hand.] I know you. You did what you thought was the best thing to do...and you didn't save her, even though you wanted to.
[He slips his hand up behind the deer-like Omen's ears, thumbing the base of one more gingerly than a scratch.]
So it feels like you didn't save yourself. So you wonder if anything could save you, in that other lifetime. So here you are, wanting to save me from my loneliness. [He exhales, slowly.] Would you believe me if I said I know what that's like?
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Farm life had taught him to swim, but it didn't garner him with any comfort in open waters.
Releasing a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, Oscar finally sunk down into the wet sand. Crouching still wasn't something he had mastered with his prothesis, even with Ironwood having shared some Atlesian schematics upon it's creation. Some things took time-- even Yang, the best fighter he knew, had trouble adjusting to her arm.]
...I know, [he said quietly while Diggs' ears twitched under Paul's fingers. He still felt his face burning-- but, that was okay.]
Anyone who knows how Kings and Emperors play knows it in their soul. I just...
[He sighed.]
I just don't want to see you get yourself hurt or do something you'll regret while trying to help someone you care about. Maybe--
[He shakily sucked in a breath at that point. The subjects he was bringing up was known to everyone he had lived with through the collapse of Julia's Dream, but not something he had discussed at length with anyone he had met since. It was easy to keep to his old friends and not talk about old hurts.
In this case... Paul needed to know. ]
...Maybe the way you're trying to help Kiriona is only going to hurt her, like what happened with Julia. Or, maybe it'll hurt you in a way you can't come back from.
Like it did with me.
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Oscar.
[The sympathy in Paul's tone is frank and unguarded as he looks at the miserable lines of Oscar's shoulders, the concern etched on his round farm boy's features. Oscar cannot help but be expressive with his large, shining eyes too often prone to worry.]
What is it that you're afraid I'm going to do?
[There is so much more to take apart here, starting, perhaps, with Oscar's belief that he has not come back from the ways he has been hurt, but this is where Paul wants to start. It's where he needs to start, because for all of his guessing, he cannot know unless Oscar says it aloud.]
Be honest with me. As a friend.
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Wordlessly, Oscar rolled up the loose pants covering the prosthesis that Paul doubtless knew that he had and finally dared to meet that gaze. Diggs nudged their little head into Paul's hand, as if quietly urging the young prince to pay attention. ]
I got this while trying to save my sister from a terrible enemy right when the dream was falling apart,
[Oscar explained, running his fingers along the plant-like filigree he had painted into the Atlesian based tech that bore the marks of Ruby's whimsy. ]
Salem had awakened in the Dream... And it was a mess. Her first acts included killing a guy I started to see as a brother... And turning Ruby into a monster.
[His brows furrowed as he heaved a sigh. Even a year and a half was not enough time to discuss the trauma the was Salem.]
The adults from Remnant-- General Ironwood, Uncle Qrow Branwen, and Ozpin all did their part to keep her contained, but it was... Brutal. They killed her-- over and over and over-- until she had lost enough from the compounded deaths that she couldn't hurt us anymore.
-- My point is, Paul: I know that it's like to do everything you can to save your sister.
I just don't want to see you be like me, and get yourself in deep trouble while you're doing so.
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He pays attention. He doesn't look away from Oscar's wounds, or the unspoken implication behind the whole unfolding story. It's there between the lines, if he keeps his ear sharp, and lets himself take it in as it is.]
I'm not going to hurt anyone else.
[He weaves apology and comfort into one strand through the words, sinking back slightly into his heels as he swallows. The flames around him might seem dimmer, or that might be a trick of their fey, deceptive light.]
Even if I could fight Teacher [he could, he knows he could, like this, he knows he knows he knows -] it wouldn't change anything. Other people would get hurt. Gideon would be one of them - Kaworu, Midoriya, you - Falco and Johnny - Lazarus - Anna - the whole city could be ash by the time we were done, and he'd wash up on the shore, and it would be for nothing.
I know that wouldn't bring her home. This isn't that kind of fight.
Sometimes I think it never was.
no subject
Oscar knew that look that darkened Paul's face, recognizing it from the times he had caught his reflection in the glass windows of the citadels of Atlas. He knew something of what it felt like to stand above and regard the world below-- and not see yourself as part of the equation. ]
... You don't get it,
[He said, tentatively reaching out as if he were approaching a wild animal. ]
You need to not let yourself get hurt, either. That'll set off a chain bigger than anything you can do alone.
[How many times had be seen Ruby hold back tears under the weight of her responsibilities? How many times had she even reached out to Oscar-- a total stranger at the time-- when she was hurting herself?
He didn't want that fate for Paul, and he could tell that Paul didn't see how he stood at the gravitational center of so many people with powers beyond what he could reign in. ]
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But he has been keeping his temper. He has been trying to be reasonable. He has been trying to do everything he thinks Oscar wants him to, trying to do everything it is he wants him to do, and none of it seems to be enough. Frustration sharpens the line of his jaw and thins his mouth.]
I don't 'get' it?
[The colloquialism is flat and hard in his mouth. He takes his hand off Diggs and brings it to his own knee as his Omen stops shivering and begins to coil, slow and sinuous, a soft circle in the sand.]
Who do you think is going to hurt me? What - just tell me what it is you think I am going to do, since you seem to know so much about it. Not Ruby, not your Professor, not anyone else. Me. What else do you think I'm going to do that's worse than this?
[The fire surges, bursting with colours real and unreal, the dull red and pale blues of dying stars and every shade between.]
Or is it that you don't believe me, Oscar Pine?
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The glimpses of Paul's rage was reflected amid the vine-like etchings on the plating-- and he could sense Diggs taking a halting step back from the inferno. ]
...I just told you,
[Oscar said quietly, knowing full well that he was playing a dangerous game. ]
I'm worried about you getting yourself hurt. Have you thought about what Chara would do if that happens? What about Deku or Kaworu? What about Johnny, or do you not care that they'll probably get themselves hurt or killed if you fail at whatever you're planning?
[Taking a deep breath, he boldly added: ]
What about Kiriona? She this had a lot to figure out-- do you think interfering with something that isn't your business and potentially getting yourself hurt will help her? How do you think she'll feel, watching you approach like this?
[Diggs darted to his side as his own voice raised in pitch and firmness, tiny ears trembling as they buried their face into Oscar's should. Diggs said nothing out loud, but he could hear it in his mind.
Please don't get yourself hurt, either.
Sucking in a breath, he turned to the omen and ran his fingers through the soft, feather-like coat.
He didn't plan on getting hurt.
After a moment he spoke sitting, in a tone that was as tired and worn and old as the rocks on the beach.]
... Or do you want me to be afraid, like you're some God or force of nature?
Because you're not either of those. Salem isn't either, and I've learned how to not let fear define who I am or what I do.
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[Paul understands seeing ghosts in other people. It's something he does all the time, the sole example of his people who have made it to this world, the only Atreides and the only member of the Empire. There have been times that the ache to see anything familiar again has bled into his still-banked desire for revenge, so that he imagines even his enemies as touchstones. Anyone, anyone, who understands him, understands the world he came up in, who knows the stories and the lifeways he does.
But there is a limit of fairness to it, and in the face of Oscar's continued evasion and reminiscing something slender in Paul snaps under the shadows of Oscar's comparisons. His Omen rises by his side, larger now, the seams of her mouth fluttering in agitation.]
All you've done is tell me stories about you, and your life, and your enemies. You don't believe me when I tell you that I don't mean to do violence - and I understand that. Maybe you shouldn't. But lying to me about it?
[He pushes up to his feet, glaring down at the smaller boy as his Omen continues to swell, now nearly the same size he is.]
I don't care if you're afraid of me or not. There are other monsters you can taunt if you want to play this game.
Leave.
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-- I'm not lying!
[Oscar snapped, an uncommon bite in his tone while he vainly searched for the pool of magic that was no longer within his reach. Gritting his teeth, he stumbled forward in an effort to simply regain his balance-- ]
It's no you I'm worried about stuff that! I just don't want to see how many times Chara is going to stab John if something happens to you. I don't want to see Midoriya get himself into the hospital. Again. I don't want to see what Kaworu will do if someone else falls right in front of him.
[Uncertainty beat an unsteady tempo in his chest while the tumult of his own and Paul's roiling emotions buzzed against his self control. Panic clenched at him-- and-- ]
I believe what you're saying, but I also believed that you understood why the book was dangerous and why I told you we needed to get rid of it. I'm worried about you, Paul. I wouldn't have stuck around for six months if I didn't trust and worry about you.
But--
[Holding his Omen tightly, he took an unsteady step forward-- ]
I'm scared for you, Paul. And--
[-- and his words left him with a gasp as he felt the prosthesis get stuck in the thick, wet sand and give way. Unable to catch himself, he pitched forward. ]
cw: referenced self-harm
He should be fair. He knows he should. Oscar is afraid for him. It isn't his fault that he doesn't understand. That he thinks so little of Paul. It isn't as though Paul hasn't given him reason to.
But there's a wound slit in him invisible to the eye (not like her) that bleeds black and cold as the void, and the fire in his veins doesn't warm. It only burns.]
You've always think you know better than I-
[He draws out the words like a knife, and he would wield them that way, if he had time. If Oscar didn't stumble as Paul's rage built and built and built into a towering column, into the monstrous engine he knows better than anyone else, no matter what they think they understand.
The fire lances out towards Oscar's tumbling body like a spear, and Paul lurches backward too late, scrabbling at the frayed edges of his control to call it back, call it back -]
cw: burns, torture reference, child endangerment.
He bit his lip and made to stand instead, but the sheer weight of something stopped his movement.
Oscar looked up, and was met with the sight of his Omen in their fully realized form. Diggs had squirmed out of his arms when Oscar fell. With their wings flared outward with a shimmering green glow not unlike Oscar's aura, Diggs stood over him... No longer in the size of a bird but a full grown stag, head bowed and ready to charge if need be.
'Stay down this time,' they said in a mental voice to Oscar. 'You keep forgetting that you're not alone.'
Oscar sighed and, gripping at his arm, relented.]
I know. [He said in a hoarse, defeated tone.
To the both of them.]
I guess we're not so different... And I've really failed my job.
cw: burns
You need to go.
[There's nothing Paul can do to help him. Even if he could get close enough to touch the other boy without causing more damage, he doesn't even have a first aid kit to speak of, let alone any of the more sophisticated treatments Oscar will require.
It's just like he thought it would be. It's exactly what he warned Oscar about, and now here they are, because Paul lacked the will to walk away in the first place when he knew how recklessly determined the farm boy can be.]
Call Ruby. Tell her to come get you, or I will.
cw: burns
[Paul didn't know half of how stubborn Oscar could be, or the lengths he was willing to go. Out of all of his household, perhaps only Midoriya had a clue. After all, he had put himself in harm's way and earned the respect of some forest beasts on the sake of a bluff and making an opening.
Pulling himself upright, he carefully relied on Diggs' support to stand -- and recalled the feelings and unspoken memories of his forebears for guidance. He stood a little too straight, his shoulders squared and steady while he fought with himself to not show an inch of leeway.
If his shadow seemed a little taller than his soft farmboy soul, it must have been a trick of the glimmers of his Aura. But--
Paul wasn't the only one with a lineage of god-kings.]
Promise me you'll get rid of it.
[If the voice that Paul had imagined from the anonymous wizard on the network seemed cold, them the voice that carried across the distance between them was colder still... And too worn from generations of suffering to belong to just a mere farmhand.
Once upon a time, a man with two souls was given a crown to wear. With it's weight heavy upon his brow, he saw visions of the results of a choice that he had yet to make-- and the truth of an unknown future had driven him mad,
This time, the man with two souls was not wearing a crown, but the Omen's antlers and wings glowing behind him were nearly as valorous as the Relic which remained outside of Trench and hidden beyond his memory's reach.
Oscar took a breath, quietly grasping the hands of both his fear and his fury. Diggs's presence was a comfort, but the intercollected souls of the Others, whose faces he didn't know but whose memories he could see, helped him find the words he needed to combat the stubbornness that was certain to come. ]
The book, Paul. Burn it. Destroy it. Throw it out to the sea-- I don't care, but Get Rid Of It.
Promise me that. Give me your word on the honor of your ancestors that you'll do that, and I'll get help for that which you cannot fix.
cw: burns
The frantic concern that animated his body drains away. He straightens as Oscar does, but with more grace, untroubled by injury. He is a wretch in ragged clothes stained with ash and his feet bare on black sand, but his stance forgets this.
Behind his head the fire arcs in seven glowing discs, forming one after another like a malign flower blooming. His Omen opens her mouth ringed with ten thousand teeth like curved needle, the blackness of her throat darker than the blackness she is made of.]
You know nothing of the honour of my ancestors.
[The cold is as absolute as the flame.]
I give you my word, for all that you spit on it, and I will give you a warning, for all that you don't heed them.
Never attempt to hold yourself hostage against me again. I am not threatened by a knife you put against your own neck.
[He touches his Omen's side. An unspoken signal passes between them, and they turn in unison to walk away from Oscar and Diggs, towards the tall grey cliffs much farther down the beach.]