Armed and Ready

( @emberfists ​ ) ♥ ( X )

                   The UNMISTAKABLE presence of a certain stouthearted adolescent with kunzite eyes capable of deprecating with a mere withering glance is befuddling. From a conscientious sibling to altruistic friends, the perilous world from whence the venturesome blonde came offered her MUCH. What is it about this inhospitable wasteland that could have enticed her?

                 Regardless, palpable bemusement aside, the abstruse elder finds herself daunted and even somewhat petrified by the inexorability of an encounter with the resilient youth. Left abashed and terribly contrite in the wake of their last, she finds herself rendered nonplussed at present. Though she’d rather flee ( and oh how she abhors that timorousness within herself ), she willfully refrains from doing so. Whilst ineluctable apprehension causes garnet eyes to avoid meeting her progeny’s lilac ones, a discernible frown tugs at unpredictable lips. Her hubris revolts at the uninhibited candor with which she acknowledges the lionheart, but she still speaks. 

           ❝ I thought about what would happen if we ever crossed paths again. No matter how many times I did, I never managed to find the right words. Even now - even HERE in a place I never expected to see you, I can’t find them.                   I imagine it’s just another disappointment to you. ❞

No longer does Yang have the instinct to arm herself when she realizes who is standing in front of her. Ember Celica remains in its dormant state as she stares back at the woman she’d once longed to meet, once thought she wanted to meet more than anything. She’s grown since then; she’s learned. She knows that the woman before her is nothing that she had imagined she was as a lonely child missing two mothers.

`It’s not my fault that you abandoned me.` Part of her still wants to say it out loud, to declare it where Raven will hear her truth. But she knows better than to rely on her for affirmation by now.

          Does she think that he doesn’t care? Honestly, that’s probably the one that did him in with this attempt. He had cared, and caring had brought him to raise people instead of toy soldiers like the gods had surely intended him to. Malleable, easy influenced people, unsure of where their loyalties lay until he had led them on with his expertise in all things sweet and rose colored. He’s been taught from the very beginning that the hearts of humanity were easily swayed. Yang has reacted in the exact way that he expected her to. ( he’s disappointed in himself, for letting things slip this far. but there’s no going backwards in time. )

          Cruel, heartless, foolish in thinking that he could ever hope to fix anything when all he’s been good at is bringing ruin wherever he goes. ‘ You have bigger things to deal with. ‘ He could scream here, say “ how else am I supposed to live with my mistakes if I don’t keep moving forward? “, but he knows that he’s given up on the idea of progress altogether, here. Still, Ozpin allows himself to stare right back into Yang’s gaze, hazel against lavender. The air is thick with an unresolved tension that could leap out and explode in their faces at any moment. He does not hear any beasts in the distance. And so, as the immortal stares and stares, Ozpin finds himself…

                    … smiling.

          “ … Observant as always, Miss Xiao Long. “ Bravo for figuring him out, after all this time. It always seems to be children that rip apart his mechanations into pieces right before his very eyes– they’ve always been more focused on one’s heart compared to the adults that he’s had to speak with. He’s no exception to this– the intricate web that he’s tied around his neck does not allow for him to reflect on the good of another often, unless it is useful. He had made use of Yang, of team RWBY. Her reaction is well justified, and that makes it all the easier to plaster on that mask that he’s grown to rely on. “ You’re absolutely right. I can’t get away with it here. “ He takes a step back.

                    “ So, I’ll leave you be. “

Yang stands shocked still as Ozpin starts to walk away, a thousand thoughts running through her head and paralyzing her body. You’re absolutely right, Ozpin had said, Ozpin had admitted that she was right about the way he viewed them. Observant, he’d complimented her, as though his compliments meant anything but a disgusting chill running down her spine now that she knows the truth. So I’ll leave you be, and now he’s leaving, running away just like every other coward she’s ever met.

And there’s nothing she can say to stop him, nothing she wants to say, because she doesn’t really want to stop him so much as she wanted to believe the person who was supposed to be leading them all in the fight against Salem would believe in his own position enough to stand and fight her for it.

Yang just watches Ozpin in Oscar’s body disappear into the trees as though he’d never been there at all, leaving behind only his footprints in the snow that would soon be covered up. When she can no longer hear the dampened sound of his footsteps she finally unfreezes, and she waits just long enough to be sure he won’t hear her outburst before she yells, using her metal arm to punch the tree closest to her with all her might.

The shock of the blow radiating up her arm isn’t enough to draw her attention completely, but it gets her talking. “Who the hell does he think he is, anyway? He talks like he already gave up and this is some kind of crappy damage control and we’re still all supposed to listen to him!” Abruptly, she realizes she’s only talking to herself out here, falling silent and letting her arms fall to her sides.

“Should’ve thrown my damn arm at him, maybe it’d knock some sense into him,” she mumbles to herself, looking at the mark she’d left on the tree with a grimace. But she hadn’t run into Oz because she wanted to stand out in the snow in the middle of nowhere, and now that he’s left there’s no reason for her to stay, either. She shakes her head and walks away herself; as she goes, the snowfall covers their footsteps, until the unobservant wouldn’t be able to tell a confrontation had happened there at all.

          GOLDEN LOCKS CATCH HER EYE, something alluring about the familiarity as she finishes her task at hand. hands dust themselves off from any debris, giving a small wave to one of the villagers to notify her leaving before moving to follow after. were it who she thought, she could only wonder why she might be here of all places. yet it was always like that, wasn’t it? one never knew the circumstances one felt or had gone through. ❝ Yang! ❞ calling out to her was easy enough, waiting for the other to turn or glance her way before stopping herself.

          ❝ It is really you, correct? I mean, I wouldn’t expect it not to be you, of course. Still, I would loathe to think I mistook someone else as you— ❞ if anything, she simply wanted to make sure she was real, especially in light of when she last parted with her which could only lead to questions on all they had experienced.

                                                           「 @emberfists 」

Day-to-day life in Eidolon isn’t so bad. Yang is definitely getting used to it, and she’s not sure she’ll ever stop being unsettled by her constant state of depleted aura, but... It’s manageable. She has honest work, people she knows but no Ruby where is Ruby and there’s plenty to explore if she’s willing to brave the cold to do it.

She’s just come back from a hunt when she hears a voice calling her name, and it feels like every cell inside her body is frozen in an instant. Ice Dust couldn’t stop her in her place so thoroughly, but as she wills herself to turn around she knows she wouldn’t mistake that voice anywhere.

“...Pyrrha?” But when she turns around, the other girl is still there. Real, still talking to her, and she barely spares a second to wonder if this might be a cruel illusion before she can’t continue that line of thought, running to her instead. The impossible can happen in Eidolon, after all, and if her hugging Pyrrha doesn’t make her disappear she’ll just take that as proof that it’s happening now.

While Yang was hunting, she usually didn’t see anyone else. She liked to wander out far, both to see more of the Great White and prevent everyone only hunting close to the village and driving away all the animals in the area. So it was unusual to see barely-there human footprints in the snow while she worked, and sure enough rounding the trees brought her face-to-face with someone only vaguely familiar.

“Oh, you’re the one who’s always around with… that guy.” It wasn’t like she’d learned his name, either. At least she recognized him at all. “Hey, we’re pretty far out from the village. Are you alright out here without a weapon or anything?”

  Oscar nearly jumps out of his skin as Yang’s voice breaks the almost silence of him messing around. His shoulders are hunched and he’s slow to turn around, visibly relaxing as his heart rate drops back to a (close to) normal pace.

  He blinks for a moment at the question about whether he’s Ozpin or not, eyebrows furrowing and the edge of his lip quirking down. Right, they’re twins here; speaking with someone other than the man himself lets that truth of his life sink in further.

  “ It’s farm boy, ” he responds, turning back around and going back to work in silence. Oscar isn’t one for conversation, in the end. However… company was important, especially since all he’s had thus far in this wasteland was… y’know.

  He rolls his shoulders before looking over one to Yang again. “ I’m guessing Ozpin told you I’m here? I don’t really know how else you’d know, so… ” he begins, finishing his work before standing up to face Yang properly.

Yang watches Oscar jump and cringes to herself; maybe she could have gone a little slower in greeting the kid. He’s obviously got a lot going on, and she’s met the other one with his face once already. If anyone else has been thinking they might be the same when meeting him… Yeah, she can see how he might be on edge.

She perches on the edge of one of the plots with a shrug, looking around despite having full confidence that she doesn’t know enough about farming to keep track of what’s going on in here. Their garden at home is only so big. ”I thought I was gonna have to keep looking for you, but the old man suggested you were doing okay here. It’s still better to see it for myself.”

          How exhausting.

          Should he sigh, here? No, certainly not, it would most likely bring a bruise before any other kind of response. Ozpin has never reacted well to anger, calculated as he was, instead opting to intervene and end the conversation as soon as possible. It’s never good to dwell on such feelings, after all, especially with such heat and intensity. His eyes remain ever more on the other’s, and he listens as attentively as he can, but his attention is split, here. What evils could surface before them if he allows her to spit her fire?

          But, on the other hand, once he considers it, she’ll only become all the more angrier if he tries to debunk any of her complaints. For the most part, the statements are valid, but… Some give him pause, a slight narrowing of his eyes being unavoidable as a finger twitches.

          “ You did all see it. “ He says quietly, but not without his own gentle force behind it. Soft steps. “ Therefore, you know from Jinn themself that I am not capable of choosing who I plague when it comes to who my curse passes onto. “ Is the option to venture closure viable here? No– her movement is to get her energy out while still having the sanity to converse with him. Ozpin won’t push it. His gaze drops to Yang’s arm for but a moment, before he looks back to the blonde. Is it devastation? Pity? Or a pure blankness? Everything is always so hard to tell with him.

          “ … If you would like to ask me any questions still, you know that I am here. “ Ha! How foolish of him to simply invite anyone to his door, but, hm. If anyone wants any logical truths, he would be the best person to ask, wouldn’t he be? “ I left because I was overwhelmed. It has been some time since I’ve seen the truth. Cowardly, I know. “ 

Ozpin is right about one thing. Yang is not going to become less angry here thanks to any action he can take. She continues to pace even as the snow becomes flattened beneath her feet.

”When did I say you chose to use his face? Just because you don’t choose who it is doesn’t mean you haven’t already written him off as collateral damage. Because that’s what they all are, right? Whatever lives they had before, you just tell yourself it’s not your fault you didn’t listen to what this was gonna be, you have bigger things to deal with than the little people with one life each.” But that’s not what she’s really angry about, and getting it out reminds her of that.

So does the glance towards her arm. So does the reassurance that he’s willing to answer her questions. Her fists tighten and her feet come to a stop. Her shoulders droop, and yet they lose none of their tension. Reminded of her arm, reminded of what he thinks of her for it, the raging brand of anger she’s sometimes known for dissipates. This is quieter—more direct, more focused.

Qrow doesn’t believe that for a second, but only gives a small shrug. Like he said, he isn’t going to press the issue. If she wants to talk about her, he’ll wait until she’s ready. Besides, there’s more pressing things to deal with- like this confusing difference in time.

“Nowhere near enough to be as drunk as you think, but that’s not the point. We weren’t in Argus; we hadn’t even gotten on the train,” the huntsman insists, bristling slightly, more out of frustration at this whole damn situation than any insinuations brought against his person. Why can’t anything be simple?  Did something happen? Does he just not remember? Earlier he dismissed any deep thought on the matter in favor of dwelling on the revelations. Now though…

Qrow sighs. Regardless of whatever ‘everything’ she’s talking about, Yang’s right. He should just dive in and tell her. This is much more important anyway.

“Look, I wanted to talk about… this whole relic situation,” not quite, but it takes a moment of gritting his teeth to continue onto the truth, “About Ozpin and this damn mess I dragged you into. I… Learned some things recently.”

”We… what? How is that possible? We derailed the train. We had to drag an old lady around with us in the snow. We talked to the relic—” She cuts herself off there. What Qrow’s saying doesn’t make sense, but she doesn’t want to jog his memory with that incident in particular. She’d assumed that was why this was where she’d found him holed up, anyway.

It sounds like she may have been right from the wrong perspective, this time. She doesn’t want to take his water if he needs it to sober up, but it doesn’t seem like he was exaggerating his state of moderate sobriety. She snags his glass to take just a ‘sip’ for herself, sliding it back across the table when she’s used the moment to gather her thoughts.

”Uncle Qrow, if you don’t remember Jinn, what is it about Ozpin and the relics that you wanted to talk to me about? Do you need me to fill you in on the details?”

          “ … “

          It’s not his place to add fuel to the flames, she’s perfectly capable of doing that herself. But Ozpin isn’t sure if there’s anything that he could say that wouldn’t go past her as completely and utterly infuriating, being who he is. It’s an understandable situation, but exhausting nonetheless. So his ex-student had ended up here as well. It’d be foolish of him to dismiss the idea of the others following her. With the silence comes a painful slowness, the elder going to put his hands behind his back in a trademark gesture.

          “ I did not come to the Great White in order to separate from Mister Pine, though it is a welcome benefit for both of us. “ He sighs. “ I only wish that whoever pulled these strings didn’t have to make a mockery of it. He deserves to be able to own his own face. “

          “ Our bodies are individual, completely disconnected from each other in everything but aesthetic. “ Ozpin explains. Perhaps it’s appeasement. Wouldn’t be the first time. “ I’d be pushed to state that we’re identical twins, but I don’t want to insult him. “ He blinks, looking to the side. “ I… apologize, for disappointing you. “ 

Oscar’s visage might be all that keeps her from wielding ember celica again. Even with Ozpin’s assurance that they’re separated in Eidolon, she doubts she’ll gain any satisfaction from hitting someone who looks like a new ally—one who she’d just seen shaken up by someone else. And... she doesn’t want to think it, but she’s not sure she can believe Ozpin’s words until she meets Oscar and he confirms them, anyway. He’s lied about far graver situations without hesitation or remorse already.

“You can quit it with the bullshit about him owning his face. You’ve been doing this long enough to be used to it, haven’t you? We all saw it. It’s easier for both of us if you would just—stop pretending you’re better than that.”

Ozpin isn’t Salem. He doesn’t desire the destruction of humanity; Yang knows he isn’t her enemy in that way. But she can’t call him an ally, not truly. Not for as long as he’s going to act like he and Salem are the ones playing chess with the rest of the world as their pieces, rather than him thinking of them as allies in turn.

She scoffs when he apologizes for her mistaking him for Oscar.

   “Wooow, you sure have great impressions of Atlas,” Qrow looks gravely at her, almost scolding, before smirking wide and winking, “I’m so proud.”

   It’s nice moment of levity anyway, before the heavy shit sinks back in. These never last long do they? But hold on, Yang almost seems prepared for some conversation like this- 

   “’Everything’? Wait, wait. What ‘everything’ would I have avoided before now?” the uncle scratches his head, “Raven showing up at Haven? Thought I told you we could talk about that when you were ready.” He’s already made his peace about that situation anyway. She’s not family. Not anymore, even with new revelations. She might’ve been right about Oz- something he’s never gonna want to admit to her face if he can help it- but not about everything else. The line had still been crossed.

   Huh, thinking about it. This almost feels familiar, in a very awful way. Suddenly Qrow remembers how his conversation with Ozpin even started.

“..What’s the last thing you remember? Leaving for station and Argus?”

“Between you and Weiss...” She shrugs one shoulder and leaves it at that. Talking about Atlas isn’t important, not compared to everything else. But the rest of Qrow’s words are confusing more than grave—even with the mention of Raven, which makes her grimace.

“Raven... isn’t important.” Yang won’t pretend that Raven’s role in what happened at Haven doesn’t bother her. But Raven had fled, and she had left her to take the relic. The burden of that relic is what matters, internal turmoil regarding absent parents aside. “How much have you had to drink? We were in Argus before we came here. You didn’t hit your head, did you?”

Suddenly, she wonders what he wants to talk about. If he doesn’t remember the journey to Argus, he doesn’t know, does he? Is she going to have to tell him? Will he even believe her without Jinn? How is she supposed to bring up something of that magnitude, if he meant to talk about something else?

Will she have to be the one to break him the way Ozpin did when he couldn’t offer any answers after what Jinn showed them?

“Man, I was kinda curious how they were growing stuff in this weather, but I shouldn’t be surprised I’d find one of you in here, should I?”

Yang’s question is said dully, as she’s unsure how she feels about who she’s speaking to just yet. At least the Glassgreen is warmer than it is outside, so even if this is Ozpin again she won’t have to deal with him in the freezing weather again. Still, the greenery isn’t much of an improvement to Yang’s mood.

“Is that you, farm boy? Or am I stuck with the absentminded professor again?”

She makes no secret of which one she wants it to be, rolling her eyes when she mentions Ozpin. But if it is Oscar... Ozpin had said he was okay, but it wasn’t like she was going to believe him so easily with his track record. He’d tell her Oscar was fine even if he knew the kid was gone if it was more convenient for him that she didn’t know, or if he thought it would be kinder even if it was important.

Qrow’s moved from the barside to an empty table due to reaching some apparent ‘nightly limit’. Feels like a bad omen, especially since he’s nowhere near as drunk as he’d like to be. So he’s hunched over glaring at the tall glass of water sitting in front of him. Try to sober him up will they? Gods he hated this place; he hated every fucking part of it-

‘Uncle Qrow?’

Shit.

The huntsman straightens up immediately. There she is, Yang Xiao-Long, one of the few lights of his life- right at the worst possible moment in the worst possible place. He manages a smile anyway.

“Heeey firecracker. You find your way to this big old blizzard too, huh?”

Qrow’s happy to see her, of course he is, but-

‘Your faith was misguided, Qrow.’

This is his fault. Even if they were back home, he’d dragged them into the worst mistake of his life. He’s gotta tell her. 

“Look, Yang… we should probably talk.”

Yang watches Qrow sit up with a moderate amount of trepidation. At first unsure if he’s going to tip over, and then just... not sure what she should say. Back in Remnant, it was hard to know what to say to someone who’d just suffered a loss she could only understand so far and was determined to drink it away instead of talking about it.

But her uncle is offering to talk now. And is apparently more sober than his location would suggest. She smiles a little at the familiar nickname, shoving his shoulder affectionately as she walks around to the other side of the table to sit.

“It’s warmer than I imagined Atlas was gonna be, so it’s not that bad,” she jokes as she slides into the seat. But even as she leans her chin on her hand casually, her expression turns more serious.

The bunkhouse wasn’t exactly the most luxurious space Yang had ever lived in; considering what the rest of the place looked like, that wasn’t surprising. It was, however, a little bit of a shock when the power stopped working and she found out she had to turn a crank in the basement to replenish it.

Whatever. That was fine, too. Not like there was anything she could do besides take care of it. When she came back up the (now much brighter) stairs though, she found someone else there—in a bunkhouse with as many beds as theirs, that was normal. What wasn’t normal was how familiar that person was, even if they hadn’t met personally before.

“You’re—Weiss’s sister? You’re here, too?”

There were some things to be said for Eidolon. It was peaceful without the same threat of Salem hanging over their heads. The cold wasn’t ideal, but Yang could get used to it. To her knowledge there weren’t even any grimm, though there were other less-than-friendly creatures roaming the Great White. Even if the quiet only made her anxious after everything, it was quiet.

But the quiet only magnified how lonely it was. She’d started to find familiar faces, some more welcome than others, but where was her team? Her sister? Whatever she’d wanted, it hadn’t been to be separated from them again, especially when they’d just reunited. She knows it’s possible for them to come here. But Eidolon isn’t that big—it’s hard to keep thinking she’ll find them the longer she goes missing them.

There’s no mistaking those ears, though. They’re walking away from her, and Yang quickens her pace to catch up to them.

“Blake!” she calls out, just in case she’s mistaken (she knows she isn’t). A smile appears on her face, and she pretends it isn’t obviously strained. “Guess this is a creative idea of figuring out normal, huh?”

          Oh, great sir, when will you stop brooding? Maybe never, that would be nice. He doesn’t deserve to forget anything that’s done, after all, which is why restless legs had dragged him outside and into the tundra’s landscape, ever wandering in hope of getting any semblance of peace. Unfortunately, watching the scenery had never been great to lessen his own thoughts, so it had only served to make things all the more frustrating. The leaves are beautiful though, he’ll at least admit that. In a fit of rare childishness, Ozpin reaches out to brush his hand along them as he walks past, letting the snow fall to the ground in unnatural clumps. 

          His travel had not been quiet; he had thought that he had no need to hide, out here. The chances of the worst happening were, even for him, quite low. It was fine, right? Of course it was. Even if one of his old students showed up right before his eyes, it’d be fine.

          ‘What happened with Jaune’. Ah, what did happen with Jaune? He had dug himself into a crevice during that time, but he remembers… a conflict. Distress from his previous headmate. The ever persistent statement in his mind echoing I’m not him, I’m not him, I’m not him. 

                    That’s right. He isn’t.

          “ … Hello, Miss Xiao Long. “ Ozpin starts, looking on as he lets a breath run past him. He still needs to get used to telling the truth, hm? “ Oscar is fine, though not here at present moment. I believe he is back at the village. “ A pause.

          “ You look well. “

As soon as she hears the words ’Miss Xiao Long’ she’s stiff again, her back ramrod straight as she stops in her tracks in front of the other. She doesn’t have to hear his clarification to know that this isn’t Oscar. It’s just an errant soul wearing his face. Her temper flares, and she crosses her arms so that she won’t hit him outright. 

“Ozpin,” she acknowledges him, eyes narrowing. “So are you done being a coward who hides behind the child whose life you stole? Or is that why you’re really out here.”

Even though it’s a question, it has the tone of an accusation.

Yang has never been someone who can be content remaining cooped up in a small space. Eidolon isn’t bad, missing sibling notwithstanding, but even with the snow she finds that she feels better when she makes time to explore outside the village. She’s seen the caves the villagers talk about, a strange field of ice that she can’t think of as anything besides a maze, and today she’s in a place apparently called Silvermoss Forest. It’s nostalgic, considering where she was before she came here. But it’s too quiet alone.

That only means that the crunch of snow beneath someone else’s feet rings loudly in her ears, and habit and something else has Yang unsheathing Ember Celica before she has time to think, prepared for anyone who might come into view.

So when she does see who it is, her relief is clear, tension leaving her shoulders and a smile dawning on her face as she retracts Ember Celica.

Eidolon raises so many questions, and Yang has so few answers. Did she really choose this? She wanted a way out of what looked like a pointless struggle, but that didn’t mean she wanted this... She can’t find Ruby. So this can’t be what she wanted.

But what she wanted when she came here doesn’t matter anymore. And since her immediate goal is to learn more about Eidolon, she knows where she should go for information—or at least, where she should go normally. There’s no telling if this place will follow the usual rules. All the same, it’s her best lead. So she heads to The Crystal.

But she never makes it to the bar; something else catches her attention on the way there.

“Uncle Qrow?! You’re here?”

yang xiao long. // RWBY

every picture of her in sunglasses is my favorite

not only is she armed and ready, she’s armed and ready

who needs a mom when you have a motorcycle

oh damn she doesn’t have her motorcycle here. ignore that

someone tell her where her sister is before she starts throwing hands

literally and metaphorically