deercountry | February Catch-All

The window curtains were inched open in the dark of night-- and Oscar stood silent, staring out at the snow with a grim, pensive look on his young face.

Ordinarily this wouldn't have seemed too unusual, but for the fact that a very different man who cast a very different shadow tended towards similar behaviors in times of great stress. Oscar was too frazzled to notice this. The announcement from Maul and the subsequent flurry that followed had only served to amplify the sheer sense of failure that had been eating at Oscar since December.

When Dipper had to be culled before he hurt someone he cared about while in the throes of beasthood.

He had failed Dipper that day. Mabel and Ruby had done more to save him-- and it was just one of many failures that gnawed away quietly at his soul. Maul's constant current of anger, now unchecked by any measure, only threw Oscar's own attempts at being reasonable into stark relief.

There may not be any way to bargain with a scorpion. There wasn't any way to bargain with a tin soldier, after all.

Quiet as Oscar was, any palebloods and a Certain Someone would be able to notice the frazzled undercurrent that jolted like electricity underneath his ordinary presence. This... was fine.

It had to be. There was no other option.

Edited 2022-02-13 02:49 (UTC)

A shadow moves behind him, but without any fear of startling the boy: they always know where the other is. Even now, even here, to stand together feels like nothing more than a comforting gathering-in of the self.

Perhaps that's why he came.

"Difficulty sleeping?"

Ozpin carries two mugs of cocoa. One he holds for himself; the other he holds out in silent offer. There's an uneasy static within his own chest, an echo of Oscar's. He knows they are both tired.

Ozpin's presence was enough to draw a sigh of relief from the boy. As strange as the balance of their connection was, it remained one of the few spaces where Oscar didn't feel like he needed to have all of the answers-- or help find them if he didn't already have them. Tiredly, he accepted the offered cocoa with a wan smile.

"That's one way to put it," He commented dryly, turning away from the window to look up at his mentor, his counterpart, the other half of his self.

He still found it a little odd to regard such a height, even though nearly two years had passed since he entered the collapsing dream. As close as they were in mind and soul, Oscar was one of the few people he knew from Remnant who had never before met Ozpin in person until these realms. The physicality of their bodies was a strange comfort.

The changes they both had endured only served to reinforce their individuality. They were still two, even though they were one.

"I think we're both going to be taking Night Shift in the house for a while. Between my owl thing and your vampire thing..."

A shrug. Though they were taking different paths, they still ran parallel. It was interesting.

"I have been trying not to call it that."

But this he says with good humor and no small measure of resignation. There is still an uncanny sharpness to his canines, a reflective flash to his eyes. He is mostly himself, but only ever mostly.

But then, his self has always been a matter of shades and halves. This is simply one more measure of it. If this is who he'll be in Deer Country, he can live with the shift.

"In any case, I have seen some recent improvement in the condition. My sleep schedule may yet recover."

Meanwhile, Oscar's eyes flashed whenever light hit them in a certain way-- and he likely cut an eerie picture in a darkened room lit only by a few soft lamps, like the one he was in now. As much as he strode to be just himself, there was no denying that whatever comprised himself was irrevocably changed in the time since he was whisked from Remnant.

"Ah. I guess it'll be just me on night shift, then. That's sad-- I was enjoying the company."

Dry commentary was the best semblance of humor he could muster at the moment. With the encampment on the shore giving him a headache and sleep taunting him, it was the best he could offer.

"I don't claim it to be a rapid change. I suspect we will be sharing hours for some time yet."

It is not a comfortable thing to confess, because of all left unspoken in it. He exhales a long, slow breath, and into the familiar silence he says:

"Any improvement, no matter how gradual, should be cause for relief. Even so, I do understand that it will merit... careful management, in the meantime." With a note of humor: "I would hate to go on the run from Willow again."

There were a lot of matters left unspoken, even with the small confession, but it was enough to have Oscar relaxing a little in the shadows. He, too, heaved a long exhale in the silence, glad for the familiarity of their shared presence.

"I'd hate for that whole situation to happen again at all," Oscar commented wearily. Those few days where their strange little family was estranged within itself had been extremely uncomfortable, for multiple reasons.

"With what happened in January, what happened last year, and some of the other things I've learned she's participated in... for a little bit I was afraid we'd be dealing with an Ironwood situation again."

A sigh.

"...I'm not sure I can handle that kinda thing right now."

His mouth slants into a tight, worried line, at that.

"There have certainly been points where Willow needed... the guidance of friends to keep her on the right path. She has told me as much. But I do not think it is an equivalent situation."

He's quiet a moment before he says:

"General Ironwood has always had a way of fixating on the task at hand, to the exclusion of all else. The rest of us have our own different, varied, faults."

"Yeah... I know."

People were always people-- wonderfully unique while simultaneously being painfully similar. Willow had her reasons, and Oscar had discussed them with her rather than leaping straight into judgements, but there were other factors at play as well.

"With everything that's been happening and keeps happening lately... I guess it's gotten hard playing Guidance Counselor to people who are older than me. I know Willow isn't much older than Jaune or Yang, but still. It's tricky right now."

"I can certainly understand that. It is a great burden, being asked to keep the peace."

He means, but does not say: it is a great burden to be a mentor, or to be looked to one even long before you're ready. A long time ago now, in what feels almost like another life, a young man had swept into Beacon Academy and watched the decorated professors turn to him for his command. He remembers it; he remembers its echo across a dozen lifetimes or more.

"I will try to keep the chaos to a minimum— at least what little I control."

Like your vampire problems?

[He asked, in an pale attempt at making a joke. ]

... You know that I'd be willing to help you if you need it. Drawing blood and making it not weird sounds easy enough

[ He does not say I know, but it shows in the weary shift in his posture. ]

It is very kind of you to offer, Oscar. But I should not ask that of you. I have managed well enough thus far, using... alternate sources.

[The admission was enough for Oscar to give Oz a tired look. He had ideas... but he would rather hear Oz say it instead of just plucking it from the space between them.]

...We both know you don't have that many alternate sources, Ozpin.

[ His expression is chagrined. Still: it's perhaps a kindness that Oscar hasn't gone prying into the messy emotional tangle he has so poorly tried to keep concealed between them.

He says, very carefully: ]

It is a... delicate situation, at present, and one still very much in progress. But I have had some... willing assistance... from Stanford.

[-- the record scratch as Oscar processed this revelation was near audible in the silence that followed. Oscar made it a point to do his best not to pry or project, but it was impossible to hide the immediate notion of now being able to confirm Ford as a Monsterfucker.

He slowly drew a breath and cast Ozpin his most deadpan impression:]

I thought you of all preople knew better than to mess around with your Exes.

[... Congrats, Ozpin. Even the other half of your soul thinks this is Bad Taste.]

[ Now that's a low blow, and one he'll only tolerate from another of— him. A host, a partner, someone else cause up in the cycle.

Impatiently, he says: ]

I understand that we parted on difficult terms, in Deerington. But it's entirely possible to reach an understanding.

[ He says this like it's simple and doesn't mean all that much to him. The embarrassing flare of worry-and-hope says otherwise. ]

[Yes, another of Him-- which Oscar, by all means, is.]

... You know I had Dipper calling me in a panic after that, right?

[He asked quietly, suddenly feeling very tired.]

What happened with you and Mr. Ford nearly messed us up, too. But, I was honest and upfront with him... And Dipper was willing to listen.

We should have both learned about lying after what happened in the mountains... And on the Whale.

[ Oscar's tone drops quiet and low, and he feels it like a shift in the air; he feels the drop through their bond. ]

It wasn't so simple as that.

[ But his shoulders drop with it. He looks away from Oscar, out to the quiet night. ]

But I am sorry, Oscar. For the burden it placed upon you.

...I know.

[Because, this was Ozpin and Ford Pines. Nothing that either of them did could ever be described as 'simple. Oscar audibly sighed, also glancing out towards the night.]

The weight of this isn't something I can't handle. I just wish you would at least talk to me.

In truth, I don't know what to say.

[ It's more honest than he means it to be: wry, tired, a touch frustrated sparking through the bond. ]

He and I... I did something I thought necessary, though painful. It was a betrayal Stanford could not tolerate. [ He sets his jaw. ] Now— well. It isn't what it was.

[ Not yet, says the traitorous flicker of hope. ]

Even so, he saved my life in November. ... And he helped me willingly, more recently than that.

[Catching the ebb of frustration, Oscar reached out and touched Ozpin's arm. With their complimentary blood types along with their bond, he hoped that it would be enough to settle the torrent of heavy emotions that had swept the both of them.]

It's never gonna be the same, [Oscar said quietly.] A lot happened, and everyone's different...

But, it's good that you have a start-- and that he's willing.

Edited 2022-03-20 01:56 (UTC)

[ Oscar touches his arm, and he exhales a slow breath. He subsides, however slightly. ]

I suppose it is... a start. We will see what comes of it. Please do try not to worry overmuch, in the meantime.

I will be careful.

[Oscar heaved a heavy sigh at those words, feeling a certain tightening in his chest at being bid not to worry. Unfortunate and painful happenings tended to follow those words...]

I'll do my best, but I can't promise that I won't.

....That's just part of what it means to be a team, though. Right?

[ Ozpin turns to him, finally, and his smile is one Oscar hasn't seen on him much lately: small, and fragile, and warm. ]

I suppose it is.

Willow was Dead.

Willow was Dead, everyone was on high alert, and Oscar was so frazzled he felt on the verge of astral projecting-- the task of staying grounded and within his body to fathom the hardships, complications, and full ramifications of this incident were mind boggling.

Sleep did not come for him. But, as he lurked outside the building at night for the clarity of the frigid winter air, he was glad that the looming figure of Shortcake had joined him. The black stallion had been with him since he entered the Dream, and Oscar was glad when Shortcake joined him on the shores after that world had collapsed. In short, the rough mannered horse was one of the few stable elements in Oscar's life.

Family was another, and Willow was a part of that. So long as the chocolates were causing everyone to act in ways that were out of character for them, Oscar didn't know when he would sleep again...

It was uncharacteristic for Willow to not show for their reading sessions. He wasn't upset at all, aware that things came up in Trench that couldn't be avoided. The chocolate situation that he was hearing about could have caused her to disappear to do... whatever those caused a person to do.

However, it was unlike Willow not to answer him within a few hours. She was generally quite prompt. With her uncertainty when it came to how his brother had made a public declaration of future battle, he had offered to escort her from the lamp that she would typically use. He had decided to take it upon himself to assure himself of her safety before calling off the study session off.

He had been to her house before, escorting her on several occasions. He'd never gone inside and never wanted to. Still, he approached the familiar house with his usual lumbering stalk and noted that there was someone he didn't recognize and what he had come to know as a horse.

At first, he thought nothing of it. People had roommates. People waited for others. It wouldn't be considered unusual. He made no attempt to hide his direct line towards the house.

...Ah.

It was a presence that was vaguely familiar to Oscar. They had not interacted very much besides in passing, but there were certain individuals that his awareness, enhanced by his Paleblood, wouldn't fail to identify by character if not by name. This was one of the more intense people in town.

He had no idea why this person was here, and so Oscar stayed his ground until the stranger drew closer.

"...Whatever business you have here, this is kind of a bad time."

He said, in a voice that was soft and tired and yet firmly girded in steel. He was exhausted, and for once had little patience for drama.

Savage came to a stop when he was addressed by the humanling, looking the young man up and down. He couldn't recall this one, so any interactions had clearly not made significant impression on him.

He glanced at the house which had been his purpose and then back at the humanling.

"I'm here for Willow. We have a scheduled arrangement she missed." He wasn't actually here to cause trouble; he tended to leave that sort of activity for his brother.

Oh no.

The fear and pain that the boy was trying to hide was immediately visible at the mention of Willow's name. Hazel eyes widened briefly before Oscar sharply looked away, thick hair clouding his face from full visibility. Underneath him, Shortcake chuffed in obvious concern...

"That's... part of the problem."

Oscar confessed at length, finally daring to meet Savage's alien gaze.

"She's dead. I'm sorry."

Savage knew that look. It seemed typical across most sentient species who were capable of dynamic facial expressions. The lack of helmets or other expression blockers meant that he could watch this humanling's expression shift in real time, and he didn't even need the verbal confirmation to know why Willow hadn't come to their arranged meeting.

From further down the street where he had come, a low rumbling bellow sounded and his Omen, Brute, lumbered out from a side-street. Another louder bellow and the Reek picked up a trot down the street, shaking a threatening head at any vehicle in the way.

He watched with an impassive expression, watching the human then glancing to the house and back again. "How?"

"I-I don't know."

It was hard to find his own internal stability. The overwhelming grief within the verdant halls of the mansion they lived him was the result of everyone who resided there-- and stemmed from far more than just Willow's untimely passing. So much had happened and so much kept happening that it was impossible to keep track of everything.

For the moment, Oscar felt too raw to try to numb himself.

Sucking in a shaky breath, he ran his hands through Shortcake's mane to anchor himself and keep explaining.

He didn't really know this man and had no idea what could happen.

"Some of our friends got married. With the festivities and everything going on in town..."

He trailed. The fervor of bonds and chocolate was a direct contrast to the terrible foreboding that clouded the beach as people scurried to prepare for a strange and horrific beast to approach. Confusion reigned across Trench.

"We must have lost track of her. That kinda thing hasn't happened before. Not here!"

There was going to be tears, weren't there? Savage wasn't used to dealing with any species actually shedding tears, usually because he wasn't dealing with people actually in touch with their emotions. This small human did seem very upset with the loss, so was likely a friend of Willow's. She did seem likeable by human standards and definitely by any Zabrak standards.

He stood there rooted on the spot that he had taken up, almost frustrated out of his surprise at her being dead by the lack of information. Surely someone knew how, why, and when she had died. She was... too popular not to be noticed in such a way.

His omen had trotted the distance to him and nudged him with a big cheek horn. He ignored the beast for now, processing.

"Where was she felled? I want to see her." He needed to confirm with his own eyes possible injuries. It would dictate his next move.

There would be tears. The floodgates had already been breached; between finding two of his friends' bodies under his roof and the growing chaos within Trench, the well was dry. Quietly, Oscar regarded both the stranger and his beast for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"I don't know," he repeated, more firmly as he reached for the strange internal balance born of a fate not meant to be his that had girded him through disasters already. This was difficult, but not impossible.

He had already seen hell, and lied to her face.

"We found her body in her room, already cold and starting to decay. Whatever happened to her... it wasn't natural.

Perhaps her demise had been another threat from within or without of Trench. Perhaps it wasn't the gut feeling that he had that something had a chance of occurring between her and his brother. She had said she would take precautions. Maybe it was a zealot or a beast, or an accident.

Why did he even want to know? She was a human who had been kind towards him, but he knew if he grew angry, if he released the deep well of hatred and his fury that she would back away. They all had to. Only the kits born on the dark side hub of Dathomir naturally knew the danger of one another and accepted it. So what if Willow died? She would come back; death had no permanence here.

He glanced at the youngling, keeping his expression sharp as he sorted through his internal emotions.

"Was a weapon used on her? Could you tell?" Stop. He needed to walk away. Even if it was Maul, nothing would change. He'd stand with his brother; he'd made a promise - influenced by the magic of the witches yes - to walk with Maul.

"... I didn't actually see the body,"

He admitted, nervous about how this person would react. For once, Oscar was in a position where he didn't have a lot of answers, and it was unnerving.

"My mentor took care of everything himself and wouldn't let others help. I suppose that's his right, though. He's the oldest in the house and he knows how to handle difficult problems."

Savage sighed through his nose, shaking his head as he looked at the house beyond. It seemed to him that this boy didn't have much information, which left him wanting to go in to check for himself while also just walking away.

He had a lot on his mind, and he was uncomfortable knowing that Willow was dead. He wasn't offended by dead bodies, but... it wasn't going to happen here it seemed. The kid was clearly upset.

"Who is your mentor?" Maybe he'd go that direction.

Normally Oscar would shake his head and deny being able to tell Savage anything. However, in this instant, he suspected that actually sharing information might help ease the stranger's anger and hurt.

Taking a deep breath, he heaved a sigh.

"His name is Ozpin. He's the guy who lived in this house before any of us, back before the dream collapsed. If he knows you're a friend of Willow's, he might be willing to talk."

Savage likely wouldn't have been satisfied with being told to go away, so at least some information meant that he wasn't about to kick down the door and go looking. He experienced unfavourable and uncomfortable emotions, but they had never been things he had felt for anyone outside of his own kin and more specifically his own bloodline.

Ozpin. He'd never heard that name before, and it was unique. Perhaps he would look into his brother's tactics and try to research first. Charging in headlong with false information would do him no good; Savage didn't have friends.

"Perhaps another time. I'm too angry over her death for more civil conversation where I have to pull information," he remarked. It was more than anger, but he wasn't going to focus on anything other than that. "Keep her safe when she returns."

Then he turned to leave.

February Catch-All

Closed | mid to late February | For Ozpin

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Closed | Late February | For Savage

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Sorry for the wait

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