o1 . clockhouse move-in!

[clocktowers]

Who: clocktowers and housemates, plus any curious passersby.
What: A move-in log! Go ahead and make your own toplevels.
When: Early September.
Where: Gaze

Content Warnings: Tagged in subject lines as needed.

In Gaze, not far from the grand spire of Never Mind's clocktower, Ozpin has found his Deerington home. The manor looks as though it has not seen life in decades or more: the once-vibrant paint has peeled to a mucky grey, the dented gate has turned a decaying green, and the whole property is a jungle of thorny weeds. The front of the mansion has been swallowed by the tangled vines of morning glories, flowers dotting the house blue and red in clusters like wounds.

The windows are boarded, just as they'd been in the mists of May. The third-floor tower is a burned wreck from a battle that feels, by now, a full lifetime ago. Every window is shattered; every space is thick with cobwebs and filmy sea salt.

Ozpin stands at the gate and gazes up the drive. He looks a mess: his hair still stuck up with sea salt, his glasses missing, wearing only the simple dark robe Ruby slung over his shoulders on the beach. He doesn't even have his cane; he doesn't even have his Aura.

But there is something beautifully simple in that. It feels like reincarnation without the dread of taking a host; it feels new.

Comments

[clocktowers]

[ Ozpin sees the set of his shoulders and does not comment; his mind hums with quiet discontent, but it is merely background noise. He will revisit it later, alone— or, as close to alone as they can truly manage. ]

Perhaps not my first choice of color... but I suppose we will.

[ There is a tired comfort in that, weary and fond: even if they are here among a drab and rusted backdrop, he knows Oscar shall always cajole him into a little more color, a little more life. ]

[justoscar]

[It was hard witnessing Ozpin like this-- so dour, so broken.

Oscar knew that this was Ozpin's true nature after decades and so many lifetimes before struggling against impossible odds, and he wished that he could do a little more...]

We can try to dye them green? [He asked, earnestly.] Once we get these clean, the fiber should take to a dark green pretty well!

[And then it would be a color more in line with the both of them. Even a mellow black or an earthy brown felt more natural than the worn down gray. Such colors still spoke of life.

They both needed some of that vibrancy.]

[clocktowers]

[ It does not quite draw a chuckle from him, but he warms all the same. Fondness echoes through the bond between them. ]

It certainly wouldn't hurt to try.