missions
"I know this is dangerous. I'm sorry to ask this of you."
He shook his head, running fingers through grey-streaked, limp hair. "It's all good. It's what I signed up for, after all."
Dark eyes flashed, and the man leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, regret apparent for only one moment before neutrality dominated him once more. "This can't be easy. Let me know if you need assistance."
He scoffed, one hand reaching behind him, resting on the familiar hilt of his weapon. "I'm sure I'll be fine."
The man sighed, leaning back into his chair, eyes hidden by the glasses forever perched upon his nose. "…you know what to do."
"Dispose of the evidence. It'll be fine."
"No trace can be left."
"It'll be fine."
"…This person isn't explicitly involved in Salem's plans." The man sighed. "Can you still do it?"
"Of course I'll be fine." I'd do anything for you.
They both knew that he'd do whatever Professor Ozpin wanted. After all, Oz had given him a reason to keep living, when the rest of the world had given up on him. No one was happy hearing the name 'Branwen', after all. Oz was home.
He took a swig from his flask, shuddering as the alcohol burned on its way down. It was simultaneously the perfect wakeup call, and the perfect way to numb the pain of what he was about to do.
Professor Ozpin stood, opening up a window in his office. "Good luck. Be safe."
Come back home.
He put his flask away, stretching his back quickly. If all went well, he'd be back by suppertime. "Yes sir." Maybe Ruby and her little friends would be up to something silly again, something he'd be able to watch through the window when he came back.
But for now, all Qrow could do was take a few steps, gain a running start, and feel his body melt away, the air carrying him onward as his human flesh disappeared and his avian form took over, guiding him to where his target lay.
Just a quick intel mission. Just a quick body disposal. He'd done worse.
And yet, he wished that he hadn't seen the regret in Oz's eyes as the man watched him go.
