warpathos replied to your post: all these qrows and still none with a blo.odbor.ne...
THAT’S WHAT IM SAYYYINNNGGGG
finally. someone gets me.
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warpathos replied to your post: all these qrows and still none with a blo.odbor.ne...
THAT’S WHAT IM SAYYYINNNGGGG
finally. someone gets me.

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@warpathos : “Take my hand.”
does he dare? does he allow himself to trust james? to accept what he offers and allow himself to be pulled to the unknown? there is a certain adrenaline that comes with his outstretched hand, like opening the door to a cage. it is a matter of simply stepping out into the world ( because atlas might as well be a different world from the verdant greens of vale ). he does not know if darkness or light will be waiting for him. perhaps both. perhaps he will be met with grays like watercolors across a canvas. he would like that, to not have the stark black and whites of his life and purpose. he thinks he would like that very much.
ozpin takes his hand.
soft things for the wizard / accepting.
soft. | @warpathos
“you might catch a cold, you know?”
“james, please...” arthur sighs, pulling his hood up over his reddening ears. the fur trim does very little to hide his shivering, however. “i’ve lived in atlas just as long as you have. the cold hardly bothers me.” and that wouldn’t be a lie if he would put his aura up like the rest of the citizens who had the ability. instead, he resigns to shivering underneath padded suede and thick fur, gloved hands deep in his pockets to keep them from freezing off in the snow.