Oscar 'Little Cute Boy' Pine (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
justoscar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2022-04-06 10:14 pm
justoscar) wrote in deercountry2022-04-06 10:14 pm
Entry tags:
Better Run Run Run Away... | Closed
Who: Oscar Pine, Dipper and Ford Pines + CR-- and a SPECIAL GUEST
What: Oscar broke into a locked study and stole some questionable items. The Fallout is Insane.
When: Early April, right after Ianthe's post
Where: The Pines Residence (The Bone Fortress)
Content Warnings: theft, endangerment of minors, (temporary) dismemberment, written reference to blood, etc.
[Somewhere, on the other side of town, was a couple of teenage boys completely missing the warning on the network about Certain Wards and their Effects. Instead, they were deep in concentration over their attempted ward-breaking-- and Oscar, lips pressed together in worry, felt compelled to hurry.
What had started as an innocent curiosity had turned into something more once Oscar realized he could break the lock at the birthday party Kaworu had thrown for Paul a few days before. A nervous escapade and a bad trip later had further cemented what Oscar felt in his gut about the party's host. Although the man had a placid smile and an off the cuff demeanor, something about the man made his skin crawl and his stomach churn like dozens of snakes huddled in a ball for the winter. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't shake the look in the man's eyes.
Instead of the man who was cryptically called Teacher, Oscar saw only Salem.
He had run to Dipper's immediately upon coming to his senses again, having faith that his boyfriend and partner would have a better idea of how to break this kind of magic than Oscar did.
This Teacher couldn't possibly be worse than Bill Cipher.
(There was a plant that had come along as well... but the plant was innocent. He would get it proper nourishment later.)]
What: Oscar broke into a locked study and stole some questionable items. The Fallout is Insane.
When: Early April, right after Ianthe's post
Where: The Pines Residence (The Bone Fortress)
Content Warnings: theft, endangerment of minors, (temporary) dismemberment, written reference to blood, etc.
[Somewhere, on the other side of town, was a couple of teenage boys completely missing the warning on the network about Certain Wards and their Effects. Instead, they were deep in concentration over their attempted ward-breaking-- and Oscar, lips pressed together in worry, felt compelled to hurry.
What had started as an innocent curiosity had turned into something more once Oscar realized he could break the lock at the birthday party Kaworu had thrown for Paul a few days before. A nervous escapade and a bad trip later had further cemented what Oscar felt in his gut about the party's host. Although the man had a placid smile and an off the cuff demeanor, something about the man made his skin crawl and his stomach churn like dozens of snakes huddled in a ball for the winter. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't shake the look in the man's eyes.
Instead of the man who was cryptically called Teacher, Oscar saw only Salem.
He had run to Dipper's immediately upon coming to his senses again, having faith that his boyfriend and partner would have a better idea of how to break this kind of magic than Oscar did.
This Teacher couldn't possibly be worse than Bill Cipher.
(There was a plant that had come along as well... but the plant was innocent. He would get it proper nourishment later.)]
no subject
[ The guards were, to be fair, occupied with the upstairs— because upstairs is where he keeps the lethal warding. But the vibe seemed pretty clear. ]
The Pthumerian bone is from the Archives, and so are most of the rest. I'm not running a secret Sleeper butchery... [ He tips his head in consideration. ] If we're auditing all my sources, most of the skeletons came from those who did. I'm not graverobbing willy-nilly.
no subject
[You know, if he had two legs.
Somehow he suspected that this man knew that, too.But Oscar Pine saw the point. He had broken in-- but this entire affair just felt wrong. It was too easy. This man-- hadn't Ford called him Sasha-- was too calm, too laid back.]
But why do you want this at all? What are you trying to do?
[Keep talking-- keep talking. He wasn't ready to die, but he wasn't ready to just give himself and the secrets etched in the shadow of his soul up for this man, either. ]
no subject
[ Seriously, the nerve of this kid. He blows out a sigh. ]
I think the local term is 'Arcane Scholar.' We're trying to sort out how it all interconnects.
no subject
[He huffed. Although he was sure it was something Dipper would have done, something they would have coordinated on Remnant to do if they were suspicious, this place had different rules
And, he was still afraid.
Blustered out, Oscar floated in the ether. Nothing more than a stubborn teen with a myriad of souls connected to his and a deep well of magic that he was cut off from, he watched and thought and waited. Words meant nothing.
He knew better than most that words were nothing--and everything-- to god-kings.]
Who are you, really?
[He asked eventually, quiet but stubborn. ]
Most of my friends keep talking about you. 'Teacher' this and 'Teacher' that. And now I see that you're friends with someone close to me, too.
I don't get it. Any of it.
Why?
no subject
[ But his tone gentles slightly, away from the brittle edge to his humor. There is still an emotional distance to him, in the inhuman blacks of his eyes, but it is not malicious. ]
I like teaching, and board games. Does a guy need a nefarious scheme just because he likes blood and skeletons? Because I have some news about the locals.
no subject
[He cut in-- he hadn't been playing the Pthumerians game for two years without learning that much. Ruby lost an eye over it; he lost a leg. Everyone had already lost so much.]
Just-- tell me that you'll make this place better instead of harder. I don't care if you're a necromancer or if you're a weird researcher. Some of us are trying to make this place somewhere worth living.
cw: gory hand regrowth
[ In the physical world, he closes one plain brown hand over the stump of Oscar's arm. When he draws it up, like a sculptor pulling clay, bone weaves itself back into existence to follow his motion; muscle layers itself smoothly over the skeleton; it takes mere seconds for God to restore skin and fingernails and little brown freckles.
It looks as though it's never been lost. ]
I won't inconvenience you with a skeleton army, and you won't go kicking down locked doors. Deal?
Cw: disorientation, nausea, distraction
He couldn't watch the bizarre process of remolding flesh from dust. Had he a stomach, he would have lost it contents on the necromancers robes. ]
--okay!
[He gasped, holding himself afloat somehow admid the surge of energy that came with the reconstruction-- And the swift ebb of the tide that followed.
Awareness blurred into a haze as voices beyond human awareness droned in his non-existent ears.
-- maybe it was his paleblood.
-- maybe he shouldn't have broken his egg.
He just needed to get back into his body. Then he could think and they could make an agreement. Maybe that would be enough to help him feel himself, feel less exposed-- less--
Oscar reached... And missed his mark.]
no subject
Is this, uh. Not standard?
no subject
It was only since arriving in Trench that Oscar could leave his body at all, but his dream walking episodes with his friends always had an easy return. They had also been facilitated by his own choice, not like this.
Reeling in non-existence, Oscar Pine found himself struggling. His body was restored-- so why couldn't--??
He wanted to shake his non-existent head. Maybe he did, and maybe Sasha the Necromancer could perceive it]
...I think I'm gonna be sick.
no subject
[ He splays his hands, soothing, to the patch of air in which the ghost of Oscar Pines hangs trembling. ]
This is new and interesting, from an arcane theory standpoint. [ And, at the growing agitation of the Pineses in the background and Oscar looking like he wants to metaphysically hurl, ] Sorry, sorry— you want a little boost?
no subject
[The words were steadier than he felt, thanks to the noncorporeal nature of the situation. Overlaid with the hesitation, however, was a mantra in another recollected voice:
'Don't panic. Everything is going to be okay.'
Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic... He grasped onto the mantra and tried to hold himself as steady as he could. However--
Oscar knew he should have died. He had broken his egg: he was feeling the tug of multiple imperatives at play.
Fear was a familiar companion. It was what people did in their fear that helped define their nature. However--
It had been over a year since his encounter with the dark goddess-queen that held Remnant in her grasp, over a year since he understood that her goals of decimation were grounded in her own despair. It had been over a year, but the invisible wounds were the hardest to heal.
He was afraid. There was no option that freed him from his fear. ]
no subject
[ His mouth quirks up in a small, thoughtful smile. For just a moment he looks at Oscar, and seems to be inspecting him more deeply. ]
Even those in... unusual situations.
[ He knows. He's known since the moment he met this kid; he was there when soul melanges were invented, after all. ]
no subject
He felt exposed.
Oscar froze-- and the remnants of personalities and identities that were clustered behind him also froze. Somewhere, he felt the shuddering recognition of the weight of being seen.
Once upon a time, a man revealed his status of magic and immortality to a small, cloistered little community. The community rallied around him, but grew beyond his control--
Recognition was dangerous.
Torn between the instinct to flee the was a terrifyingly common trait within the myriad and his own knowledge that he had to keep trying-- no matter what-- Oscar swallowed his fear. Perceptual awareness fuzzed in and out with every ragged heartbeat that shook within his body to compensate for the severe blood loss, and he felt his world spinning.
It wasn't unlike the fevers he had gotten as a child, like all kids do. His insides rolled and churned.
There was no choice. There was obviously no choice. Finding words once more, he ventured:]
... Okay.
no subject
He presses the boy's spirit back to his body, and pins the selves together with a tidy stitch of thanergy, the sort of stabilization and preservation theorem any Seventh adept could explain. It will be disorienting, having everything come online again, but there's no ill will in it.
This kid has been a nuisance and a brat and a fascinating wreck of a soul melange. He is still, at the end of the day, a scared kid. God can be petty, but he isn't cruel. ]
Cw: disorientation, emesis
His insides lurched.
Gasping for air, Oscar was in motion in an instant. He didn't make it an inch before crumbling at the Necromancer's feet as nausea overtook him. The acrid heat of bile and sundry other liquids burned his throat and stung his eyes as he heaved and expelled whatever had remained in his stomach from earlier that day.
He was tired. He wanted to go home. He knew where he was, however... But the skeletons were a cold comfort when he couldn't read anything that he understood in those black, endless eyes.
He panicked. ]
no subject
Again. ]
Well, [ says God, as the Pines duo startle forward for their newly-resurrected and re-armed friend, ] it's an improvement. Give it a moment, things should settle.
no subject
Still feeling sick, he managed to look up at the man, the teacher, the Necromancer, with eyes that were wide with his awareness of who and what he was dealing with. This being, with all the whimsies of a man and the powers of a God, was impossible to predict--
-- and that was what made him dangerous.
Coughing at the burning in his throat, he wiped at his mouth with the back of his sleeve and slumped backwards into a sitting position. It was all he could manage while he still felt ungrounded and didn't trust his feet to steady him.]
--Please,
[He said hoarsely, wetly.]
I won't do that again. Just-- just-- whatever you're doing, please do it to make this place better.
[Because he knew in his bones and his soul that there was nothing he could do to stop this person. Like Salem, the powers he wielded were too great. Like a storm, anything was possible.
... Unlike the ocean, however, it may have been possible to negotiate.
Swallowing in his stubbornness and pride, Oscar dropped his gaze. Too many memories and identities stirred in his own being, but he knew he couldn't just leave it there.
Releasing a breath-- and the tension that held him together-- he slumped over like a doll that had been cut from use strings. He was afraid... But oh so tired. ]
... And, please.
Don't hurt my friends.