deercountry | Catch-All with Prompts Inside

Prompts TBA.

This... was going to be special.

Normally Oscar was fairly astute about avoiding strange food or drink, but a thoughtless choice had him taking one without fully realizing what he was doing. The chocolate was sweet, with the smooth peanut butter filling that reminded him of the cookies that he liked to make. He had been think about making another batch when he felt the itching at his scalp-- and a pressure that had built to a breaking point and popped before he realized it. The sudden weight on his head clued him in--

And, embarrassed, he went out in search for Ozpin in his study.

Bag of chocolates still in hand, he popped his head in through the door. The crown of antlers, still small and youthful but growing with more vigor and tines than years before, was immediately evident.

Oscar cast Oz a sheepish grin.

"Uh. Just a warning: don't eat any chocolate right now."

Edited 2023-02-03 02:59 (UTC)

By the time Oscar pokes his head around the corner, of course, it's much too late: Ozpin is not in his chair. Instead, he stands bewildered with his book on the ground, half a truffle in his hand, and a crown of antlers upon his head. He turns to Oscar and the tines catch the light, glinting in their familiar shape. He doesn't need a mirror to know what he will find.

"While I appreciate the warning..."

Of course it came to them at the same time. Sometimes he wonders how the Pthumerians see them, when these things are so often synchronized. Perhaps it goes beyond the Pthumerians; their connection may well be a law like gravity.

"....Sometimes I really think they like to play games with us."

Oscar sighed.

It had been a while since this had happened, however-- and over a year since leaving Julia Sodder's dream had allowed them to become different people from what they were before. Oscar was now nearly seventeen and taller, no longer the skinny little fifteen year old who didn't know how to even begin finding his space in any world.

"At least they're consistent about it," Oscar said, entering the room more fully. It grew a little easier to carry this crown with every step he took-- and, for once, he didn't fully mind. "I guess it's nice that they do that for us."

"I find myself certain of it."

With utter resignation, Ozpin bends to retrieve his dropped book. But he only places the book on a side table and settles on the sofa, the spot beside him open in invitation. He raises a hand to trace the tines upon his head with an easy familiarity, beginning to reacclimate to their weight.

"Difficult to say whether it is meant as a shared joke, or one purely at our expense."

"Why can't it be both?"

Oscar asked, accepting the invitation to sit near Ozpin. It had been a while since they had a chance to just chat, and he was glad to take it.

"I'm just glad it's only antlers. But, I'll take it-- even if it does make me wonder if they're taking it easy on us on purpose."

"A reasonable question." Compared to the dream, the chaos of Deer Country has taken on a much gentler tone. They can all feel it. "Perhaps it's not meant so much as entertainment or challenge... perhaps it's simply an element of the cyclical nature of this world. A repeating pattern, attuned to the changing of the seasons. It seems that the gods and their magic, in this place, turn with the calendar itself."

It's... almost unsettlingly familiar, put like that. Comforting to think that the Pthumerians are little more than forces of nature, moving in their own grand circles.

"I... suppose so."

He shrugged, mulling over how the seasons turned. Any astute reader could understand how 'seasons' as a concept could apply to more than the climate and the weather. History and humanity had it's seasons. Conflict inevitably sparked into bloody war, in which wills as indomitable as nature itself tried to surmount each other until one eventually succeeded. Then, peace would last for a time before people grew restless and greedy-- in which the seeds for the next conflict were planted as easily as barley was sown in the spring for harvest in the fall.

"I wonder what season we're supposed to be in?" Oscar asked, musing. "We're kinda doing something that has never really happened before."

"Under the Doorway, I suppose it's the season of connections to others."

He tips his head as though to indicate what's become of both of them; the rack of antlers makes the gesture only more pronounced.

"But, taken on the broader scale... I suppose this world has passed through several distinct ages. There was a peaceful time before the Pthumerians came; a growing unrest as the Sodders played their roles; then a great and terrible winter as she slept." He casts his gaze out the windows, to the city beyond. "It seems Sleepers were a rarity until recent years. With us, perhaps the world builds towards change once again."

"I'm a little tired of living through an historical era, Oz."

Oscar said with a sigh. That had been the ongoing theme of his life since leaving his Aunt's farm, and needing to navigate through the chaos constantly was... tiring.

But if anyone had to do it, Oscar supposed that people like them were the best to have around. They already knew what they were doing.

He joined Oz, noticing not for the first time that he no longer stood quite as small next to the towering headmaster. While he was content with the possibility of never reaching that height, it was still... strange.

"If it's what we're supposed to do... then I guess it's our role. I want to see this place get better, and I don't want everything that happened in Deerington to be forgotten.

Oz's expression goes weary, but he does not have to say it aloud: history always followed them, on Remnant. He has lived so many lives, and so few of them peaceful.

"I believe that to be a noble undertaking. To carry on the lessons of the past and shepherd in a kinder future." It's what he's done, at his best. In too many lifetimes he has lost track of that goal, or lost the will to carry it out. "The stories of our past may yet help those building lives here now."

"I hope so,"

Oscar said, looking up shyly. The antlers were still a tad strange for him, but the weight of them wasn't unpleasant. They were still lighter than the burden of expectation that the world placed on the both of them.

"I just don't want to accidentally guide anyone down a path that we can't turn around on. That's already happened.... and we're still cleaning up from it."

Edited 2023-03-02 03:11 (UTC)

Ah. It shows more readily than otherwise, now that Ozpin's antlers cant with his movements and telegraph every faint dip of his head: he still feels the shame of that misstep, every time Oscar turns it over between them like a stone. It sits heavy in the air every time.

"That is always the burden of responsibility, when one intends to guide others... or when they look to us, regardless of what we set out to do. Laying the path ahead is no simple thing for those who walk it."

It's made easier by distance, he doesn't say; or, at least, it's supposed to be.

The burden was on both of them. Oscar dipped his head as well, with his antlers proving to be a heavier crown to wear than he anticipated with the movement.

"There's no way to to go and retrace our steps," he said quietly. "But, sometimes I wonder if it's possible to change the road we're on? Oz... there's so much here, but there has to be a better way for the both of us to be living in this world."

He can feel the emotion underlying it, the mingled hope and fear— that quiet, worried longing for the world to make sense. Little good can be said of Remnant and their place in it, but at least there was a certainty in despair. An unwinnable game requires much less of its players than one they are still asked to strive in.

"What road do we walk?" It's meant to be said as wise rhetorical, but he finds himself asking too honestly, as though Oscar might somehow see the shape of this where he cannot. "And what do we wish it were?"

He raises a hand to the familiar curves of his antlers, but lets it fall again.

"I find my vision less than clear... It's only ever in hindsight that we can see the perils of our actions. I'm afraid there may be no greater wisdom for us than to tread on, as all men do."

He does not truly think there's anything better for them than this.

The turning over of the month and the changing of the Patrons was a reminder for everyone that Winter was halfway over. The snow would melt soon, and not long after the time would come when the days were longer than the nights-- and it would be spring once more. Oscar recalled his offer to Vyng over the fall to help out with the farm that the Druid had inherited. As smart as Vyng was, strong as Tuck was, and clever as Billie was, Oscar wasn't certain that any of them had any understanding about farming.

Even in the winter, there were chores that needed to be done to prepare.

Oscar arrived at the farm that morning without prompting and set to work checking over what he could without even telling the others that he was there. Eventually they would wake up and find him making his notes and jotting down his to-do list of tasks to go over with Vyng and the others later. A farm had a multitude of options, and he wanted to see what the current caretakers wanted to do before getting in too deep.

Only the small, deer-like creature that was his Omen and his towering black horse kept him company in the early morning. Oscar was glad for the company-- and he wasn't opposed to more.

Edited 2023-02-03 03:25 (UTC)

If Oscar suspected Vyng and his family were ill-prepared in the ways of producing food for a whole town, then...he would be abso-fucking-lutely right. Nobody should be entrusting them with that responsibility. (As far as Vyng is concerned, he's just the interim grounds guardian until some hapless, sad-sack Sleeper needs an actual reason to wake up in the mornings. Then he can sagely pass the baton over to them and go along his merry way.)

Which is why Vyng's expression brightens when he comes across Oscar early one morning. Always reassuring to have somebody competent on the scene.

"Heyyyy, good morning!" the Druid greets in a sing-song voice. "How's it going? You need any breakfast, buddy?"

"Breakfast?"

Oscar looked up at his friend, his distracted expression immediately breaking into a grin at the sight of Vyng. Like any regular teenager, he dashed over-- food was definitely welcome here.

"I'm not gonna say no!" He chirped, scooping up his Omen as Diggs joined him. Shortcake, ever grumpy, snorted at the two of them and wandered off-- likely to look for his own meal or entertainment. Horses were far more resourceful than people gave them credit for.

"It's been a while, Vyng. I'm glad you guys are still here!"

"Yeah? Bet the townies are too," Vyng quips with a crooked grin. Plenty of Sleepers tolerate them well enough, but some of the locals have absolutely branded the three of them as menaces.

He waves Oscar over toward the farmhouse's porch.

"Just, uh. Stay there," he instructs. "I'll be riiiiight back."

Edited 2023-02-22 02:47 (UTC)

"Eh? You don't need to make it a big deal."

He watched Vyng leave, utterly bemused by this, and feeling rather awkward. It was still pretty early and Vyng's family didn't seem like the type to be up with the chickens. He didn't want anyone to go too far out of their way.]

"It's a bigger deal in there," Vyng answers ominously. "Trust me."

And with that, he steps into the house and shuts the door behind him. There's some clanging around. Indignant clucking. Probably glass breaking, too. But after a few minutes, Vyng emerges from the inside of the house...with a serene expression, and a warm plate of oatmeal.

"Breakfast," he says with a small bow and a flourish of his hand, "is served, mousier." With a small bow and a flourish of his hand, he offers the plate to Oscar. A syrupy smiley face decorates the top.

Despite the cold, Oscar couldn't help but start laughing at the absurdity of the delivery.

"I have no idea what that word means," He said, grinning as he accepted the plate. "But, thanks!"

"It's not important," Vyng says with a wave of his hand, "just like most of the stuff that comes outta my mouth. But you're welcome!"

The Druid settles down next to Oscar, hands clasping between his knees.

"I don't know,"

Oscar said, grinning as he started into his breakfast. Ever the earnest kid, he knew that the strangest looking meals often were the tastiest.

They were made with love, after all.

"You say a lot of things that are pretty smart, too. Sometimes, you even sound like you've shared secrets with the oldest trees in the world."

He's gratified when Oscar tucks into his food. Vyng is no Meers, but he still enjoys cooking for his friends and family.

"Trees have much wisdom to share," Vyng says with a sage nod, "it is true. Also? They're the biggest gossips. Share a secret with one tree, and it's only a matter of time before the whole gosh-darned forest knows about it."

"Really?"

He took a big bite, enjoying the warmth and the sweetness of the meal, and regarded Vyng with wide, interested eyes. Even the early morning couldn't dull his curiosity.

"But, how do they talk to each other? Is it underground, with their roots? Or do they send their leaves at each other?"

"Even better." Vyng's eyes light up. "Fungi! Great for parties with neighbors. Even better when you've got some real dirt to share with 'em."

"Fungi? You mean, like mushrooms?"

Oscar blinked up at the Druid, plainly confused. Fungi weren't something he tusseled with, even while foraging. There was too much of a risk of toxins.

"How does it work? What is it like?"

Oh-ho-ho-ho. Let Vyng expound on all the virtues of fungi.

"It's like a big brain. Beneath the forest floor," he says with a grin. "They send messages to other plants through this crazy-elaborate social network. It's absolutely nuts!"

Oscar's wide eyes almost glittered with fascinated interest. sure, it was cold and he had chores to do, but there was still plenty of time-- and conversations with Vyng weren't an every day thing.

"Fungi, like a brain underground?"

He sucked on his spoon, thoughtfully.

"Or like a city? That sounds like a fairy tale!"

"If a city were a single entity? Then, yeah. Sure!" Wouldn't be the strangest thing Vyng's heard of. "Communing with certain mycelium can yield as many secrets as caps n' stems. But the deeper the secrets, the higher the cost."

A pause.

"If we're comparing them to fairy tales, it'd probably be one with hard bargains and monkey paws. But mushrooms aren't wicked creatures — just misunderstood. They're so interconnected with the environment. People could stand to learn a thing or two from them."

Congrats, Vyng. The boy's mind was getting swept away by the fantastical ideas of fungal networks too complex for the ordinary mind to comprehend. It was a logic that didn't make sense to how human minds worked-- but, the same applied to the forces of natural law.

"I've heard stories about fungi being able to solve complicated puzzles in order to reach their prize" he said softly, "and other stories about how fungi can overtake a creature's body as part of it's biological processes. How do you communicate with trees if the fungi are part of it? How... do you keep yourself from going crazy?"

Oscar didn't venture to the Sanctuary often, but an errand in town had brought him this way. Truth be told, he was a little concerned about the strange boy, Allen, in the same way he had been concerned about Paul. Anyone who could organize an establishment so large, so quickly could pose a significant danger, and Oscar knew that he was already close friends with a few too many dangerous people in town already.

He didn't necessarily want to add more.

But, since he was already in the area, he decided to look around. The last time he had seen the place, he had been voluntold to help the skinny librarian Palamedes move a few heavy objects. He wasn't up on current affairs, but something about the season shifting had encouraged him to look into it.

Edited 2023-02-03 03:42 (UTC)

Ezra would be sympathetic to Oscar's concerns, if only he knew them. He helped Paul with the Leviathan, and he helps here at the Sanctuary too, yes.

That doesn't preclude doing threat assessments. Back home, he'd pulled together some unlikely alliances to face seemingly impossible odds, himself. So he has a decent sense of the potential dangers. Keeping his eyes open, while he tries to do what good he can, helps with the threat assessment, as far as he's concerned.

Today, Ezra has spread out trays of mulched soil taken from close to the guardian tree that keeps the Sanctuary grounds relatively corruption free. He's currently fussing over barely sprouted bean plants seedlings that he intends to plant in the outdoor gardens on grounds, once the weather shifts warmer again.

When he can see - or feel - that one of them struggling to thrive, he closes his eyes and oh so gently pulls ambient energy from the Force, through him, to give just a little to the plant. Not enough to visibly grow, because he doesn't think he has the power and control to do that well and evenly. It's just a helping hand for a tiny bit of life.

Which maybe makes this all look even more odd, to someone else.

Where Ezra had focused in on helping at the Sanctuary to minimize the potential threat levels, Oscar had focused in on assisting Paul as an alternative view point-- as someone with experience both in Trench and in Julia's dream, and had also seen the great and terrible things people can do for the sake of a good cause.

For the moment, however, he was focusing on matters closer to his own heart, home, and well-being. Quietly, he watched Ezra work with the seedlings and slowed down in his short journey. A bag of goods from the grocery was the only indicator of why he was in this part of town.

He was merely taking a detour, a breather.

But, ever the resourceful farmhand, he couldn't resist sidling over and speaking up behind Ezra.

"If you have any egg shells lying around, they can help. Same with coffee grounds and vegetable scraps."

Ezra glances up, and hums thoughtfully. "I've been composting scraps and tea and coffee grounds."

He pauses. "Egg shells, too?" That...had not occurred to him, and now he feels like an idiot. Egg shells, he has plenty of, from Trenchwood farm.

"Yeah. It's not much different from bonemeal. Easier to get, too."

Oscar smiled-- easy, confident. This was his element and he was glad to be able to discuss it.

"I lived on a farm for a while, before I hit the road. My Aunt taught me a lot of easy gardening tricks if you ever want a little help."

"I did spend some time around farms, growing up, but not as part of a farming family. And Lothal didn't really have the equivalent of chickens," Erza confesses.

"My actual gardening experience has been spread across two wildly different ecosystems. So yeah. Still filling into gap, for sure."

"I swear, Ruby. I'm not kidding about the bad luck thing."

Oscar had relented to Ruby's request that he join her while she set up anti-burglary traps in her shop after a recent break-in. Why anyone would want to burglarize Ruby Rose was beyond him, but he was always glad to keep her company-- except this time.

"I'm not even carrying either of the gifts that Dorothea gave me, and it's not like Uncle Qrow is around for any of it," he continued, babbling on at an anxious pace. "First Peter and I got snowed in a weird abandoned shed and he was just wearing these thin tennis shoes, then Ange's sister-in-law tried to ask me to be a third in her arrangement with Battler when we were matched during that Speed Dating thing."

He groaned at the thought. It wasn't that Beatrice herself was unpleasant, but he had no desire to get too caught up in the source of the problems within the Ushiromiya family. Staying friendly was only a sound decision. Going further... was dangerous.

In a different way than anything on Remnant could be.

Edited 2023-02-23 02:53 (UTC)

Ruby was doing her best to keep her shop safe and the people around her. It also had just been longer than she was used getting a chance to visit Oscar. As much as she was enjoying having a place to herself with Ange. It was awkward not being a part of large home with her teammates. It was just different.

"Maybe it's something weird from the patrons? Maybe they swapped yours and Qrow's semblances or something?" It was a long shot. But Oscar didn't exactly have one unlocked at the moment either. It could explain something.

Still all the stories- Well it certainly did say something about his luck at the moment.

"Sheesh- Uh. I mean Peter gets into trouble all the time. But wow. The whole thing with Beatrice there. That uh. Sounds like a mess. What did you end up saying to her?"

Oscar sighed.

"I told her the truth: that Ange would probably kill all three of us."

Which... was the truth. Ange had always been quiet and carried herself with a sort of grace that befitted a maiden with an armor made of ice. It wasn't easy to see underneath that armor, but Oscar had caught glimpses-- and what he saw reminded him of the particular temper he had observed in the Schnee siblings. Certainly, that temper was fairly elegant-- but, also quite devastating.

Oscar followed Ruby closely, keeping his hands to himself while he scanned the room for potential areas to fortify. He enjoyed spending time with Ruby too. His main concern was accidentally doing something that would make a mess of her business.

"...I think Dorothea's been playing with me, since the winter." Oscar said, to explain his problems to Ruby. While he hadn't caught sight of his Patron, he could feel her eyes on him at times. It had been ongoing since he had collaborated with Paul on their ritual with Julia... and he wasn't sure if he particularly liked her attention.

"She kinda makes me nervous," he admitted. "She's trickier than the Curious Cat, but her fun usually involves hard lessons that actually aren't all that fun."

Ruby can't help but stifle a giggle. Except the stifling doesn't last very long and she needs to put a hand on Oscar's shoulder to support herself.

"Okay. Honestly. You're probably right about that. And you made the right call." Honestly with what Ruby knew of Beatrice and what she had done, it was a bit of a miracle that her and Ange were getting along as well as they were.

She sits on that next comment for a little while. But she understands what he means by that. The Patrons were incredibly fickle beings, it made her feel less like what happened in their world was out of the question for others.

"...You probably aren't wrong there. But- You feel like you're learning something from them, right?

It's not great but at least you're in one piece. And neither Ange or I would let anything happen to you."

"I know-- it just makes me feel weird, that she's giving me the sort of tools that would have helped Alyx get away with her choices in Ever After."

But, he was grateful to Ruby for her support regardless. He wanted to be his most honest, genuine self with her. That included being open about when something was troubling him.

"...I haven't used either one of them, just so you know." He added, "and I don't plan to. Not unless something big comes up. But, I don't see why it would."

Prompts TBA.

Catch-All with Prompts Inside

Oscar Pine

For Ozpin

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For Vyng

thanks for your patience!

oh always!

<3

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my life keeps eating me. Thanks for being patient.

no worries! <3

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For Ezra.

Sorry for the delay!

It's ok!

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For Ruby

Sorry this took so long to get back to!

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Waver Velvet