A/N: aggghh I was so close to getting this out yesterday and having updated exactly a month after the last. whatever, it's fine, this chap is still over 9000 words long.
for those of ya who stuck around after the whole pregnancy reveal thing, thank you. i noticed i dropped a few subscribers and bookmarks for that, but i think i gained more so yay? either way, to those new and old, welcome back! i'm excited to finally put this chapter out, since as promised we get to start meeting some major canon characters. this chap happens to introduce my favorite (besides ruby and oscar) ~
thank y'all for your patience, and thank y'all even more for reviewing last chap. your encouragement means the world to me and I love hearing what you guys are thinking. if there's any point you want more clarification on please reach out; unless it's something that's going to spoil a plot point I'll probably tell you in excruciating detail.
WC: 9334
oh btw announcement: after six or seven years or so of avoiding peer pressure to do so i made a tumblr, mostly so i have a place to put the art i make for this fic (here's a link to a little portrait i made of Ruby, remove the spaces: iggysol . tumblr image / 652020341342978048). there's not a lot on there right now, but i plan to put some of my pencil sketches up there, and i'm dabbling more in digital art so hopefully some of that. i have some ideas for omakes/comics too that i hope to get to. check it out if you want
*break*
When accepting his mission, the God of Light had told him that the humans born without their divine presence would be but a fraction of what they once were. After thousands of years of living and dying alongside them he had plenty of time to ponder what exactly was meant by that, and he still did not know.
Their souls were not any lesser than what they had been the first time, of that he was certain. The breadth of their compassion and the depth of their depravity were easily matched by the people he had known in his first life as Ozma. They were incredibly creative, if not more so than their predecessors, and had long since outstripped any technological advances he had witnessed in humanity's first age. Even their bodies were more firm, strengthened and protected by the advent of Aura. The only thing he could confidently say they lacked was magic, and while Semblances and Dust could be considered a pale imitation the more he saw the more he pondered if humans truly needed magic to be 'whole' as it were.
Oscar was brought back to these millenia long musings once again as he stood over the bound body of the woman who had arguably been the catalyst to the apocalypse.
An amber eye burning with malice, and a diminished crimson flame of magic glared up at him. She was held immobile by a bastardized mix of technology, hard-light dust, Jaune's semblance, and the puttering remains of Oscar's own magic. Yet the woman named Cinder Fall could still shake with rage and hiss her curses at them. She was forced into a kneeling position, with shackles, heat proof and inscribed with long forgotten spells that inhibited magic, binding her wrists, arms, and neck. Beneath her skin he could sense the wild, barely restrained magic earned by the murder of two young women desperately trying to thrash out. Amber, and the Summer Maiden they had been mere seconds too late to save.
Here was a woman with magic coursing through her veins, artificial as it was, like the ancient people of the world. By the gods' definition she was a complete human being. As Oscar stared into her hate filled gaze, he wondered what the gods would say if they saw her.
When she deigned to stop screaming in frustration she gave a dry cough and fixed him with a withering look. "You're still so arrogant. Do you think you're some kind of hero? You're just a false god."
"No, there are no gods here. I am only a man, and not a very good one."
"That's even worse," She spit. Then her head was violently jerked back by the chain that bound her neck. At its other end stood Jaune, a few feet back and gripping the links of steel with barely contained fury. His Semblance was activated as he poured his aura into the amalgamate of contraptions that kept Cinder bound. Staggered out strategically throughout the clearing were Ren and Nora, each with their firearms trained on the captured Maiden's head and waiting for a reason to shoot. It was the most furious Oscar had ever seen any of them.
With a frown and a sigh, he said: "I'm afraid we disagree there." He looked down on her and felt the acute flush of sorrow. This was never what he had intended. So many things in the world today were corruptions of ideals he had tried to instill for the benefit of humanity, but this mockery of the Maidens that sat before him particularly stung.
There were a litany of practical reasons he could cite to his allies as to why the Maidens were birthed into existence, when he couldn't bear to share the crux. He could say the Maidens were his way of making powerful allies. He could claim them to be another line of defense against the Grimm, who could be places when he could not. By making them the key to the chambers, he could say they were yet another obstruction to Salem obtaining the relics; even if she captured Oz she could never open the door without the corresponding Maiden, another measure of security. None of those were quite the truth.
When he had given those four young women powers, oh so long ago now, he had done it so they could do the good he knew they were capable of. For so long he had lost sight of the meaning, of the value, of life. In those days his world was gray and wretched, drowned in self-pity and regret. So many lives he wasted and destroyed, all because he allowed himself to sink into the depths of despair.
Yet those girls, with their bright souls and wide eyes, with their wonder, kindness, trust, love: they showed him again the beauty of the world. How wondrous it could be to be alive. In them he once again saw the potential of humanity. He was reminded of the miracles, of the warmth they were capable of.
In those young women he saw everything humanity could be. He saw hope for all of their futures. He saw… he saw his daughters. He saw what he had dreamed and prayed they would become, when they were so small they fit in his arms and he sobbed in all the fear and elation that bloomed from parenthood. He saw the kind of people he wished them to be: of poise and purpose who were better than their parents, who made the world better by the virtue of their presence in it. He saw what the world had been robbed of when his daughters had been taken far too soon. And his visions made him weep.
So with that in mind, he gave the women that would become the first Maidens his magic.
At the core of the matter, he was an idealist. He dreamed. He yearned for the happy endings and poeticisms of fairy tales. The Maidens were his symbol, a tribute to his daughters, to the women that pulled him out of darkness. They were meant to be in the world; to live amongst the people and be emblematic of all the good he desperately knew humanity to be capable of.
Each Maiden could be the kind of person Oz was far too broken and distorted to be anymore. He was a relic of the past, tied there and pulled in too many directions to achieve the heights of humanity that inspired him to keep going every passing day. The young women that could become Maidens though, were citizens of the present. They were born and shaped in the world that had become Remnant, grown in the light of its moon and not in the shadow of gods.
That was why so many of them roamed freely, despite the danger. That was why Amber had been vulnerable to Cinder's attack, because Amber had been out doing all the good she was intended to. That was why he agreed to James's pressuring, to put Miss Nikos forward as the candidate; to salvage the principle the Maidens had been created for, because he believed in Miss Nikos and the good she should have been destined to achieve.
That was why Oz had never done what he was about to do now.
In all of his many lives, Oz had never killed a maiden. No matter what kind of woman claimed their powers, because Cinder Fall had certainly not been the first to lack a moral code and use the power for evil. He always tried his best to let the Maidens be, to let them become the kind of person they chose, because of all of the qualities the gods' bestowed upon humans, choice was always the most important. For better or for worse.
But he could not spare the same consideration for the woman in front of him. Probably sensing that the end was near, Cinder gave a half delirious chuckle and met his gaze unflinching. "You-" she rasped, "You're finally getting your revenge, huh? Paying me back for burning you to ash last time?"
"No, this is not about revenge." Jaune scoffed at that. Oscar slowly shook his head. "Not for me, at least. I'm sorry that it ever had to come to this."
The rage in her eye reignited. "Don't you dare pity me. Don't you dare-"
"I don't." He cut her off, to her apparent surprise. "None of us do, so rest assured. Everyone here is of the opinion that you deserve every second of what is about to happen to you. You may have lived a misfortunate life, but that does not make you any less culpable for your sins. Everything, is the result of your choices."
That seemed to shock her into silence. For a moment her jaw went slack and her eye went wide. Oscar nodded to Jaune behind him, and began removing his gloves. With both hands he grasped the sides of her face and tilted her chin up. He saw confusion, fear, flash wildly in amber as he stared into her soul.
"We are not cruel, this will be quick." He murmured, mostly to himself. With that said he gave the signal.
Jaune's blade was struck through her gut from behind with a wet squelch. In his hands Cinder's body spasmed as she let out a sharp gasp. Oscar felt her shiver as her amber eye trembled and her whole body shuddered under the weight of impending death. Without a word he let his magic sink from the tips of his fingers into her being. He let it feel for the source of its long estranged sibling, let it greedily gulp down the energy. Liquid fire slowly poured back into his soul as the light in Cinder Fall's eye died.
Finally her gaze turned to glass and her body went limp. The magic stopped flowing.
He burned, body and soul, as he was reunited with the powers that he had been separated from for so long. So small, he felt, struggling to contain all the magic suddenly pouring into him. It was like gorging after starving for years (centuries, millenia-his soul whispered). Cinder Fall's lifeless body fell to the ground with a thump, and he took a few stammering steps back.
Ren's hand was suddenly on his shoulder. "It's done. It's done now," his low voice soothed. Oscar's heart thrummed against his chest as the flames of Summer and Fall burned him from within, but he could tell they were settling. It was a success, the Maiden Powers were reclaimed. A deep sigh of relief escaped him. He isn't sure how long he stood there as he tried to slow his breathing, as he waited for the world to come down from fever pitch.
After a few more moments he took a deep breath and reassessed. He raised his hand and lit a fire, marveling at how easy it came to him now. Extinguishing it, his hand clenched into a fist. He saw Nora and Jaune standing over the corpse, both with blank expressions. Ren rubbed one more comforting circle onto his shoulder before he went to join his teammates.
Oscar eyed the three of them and took in the sight as the weight that had been held for years slid off their shoulders and fell to the ground with a thud. It was over, this part at least. They could take a few more hours to bask in this victory before they had to meet up with team RWBY again.
So he joined JNR in their vigil, gave his prayers of respect to Pyrrha, to Amber, to the last Summer Maiden and all the others that deserved better. After this they would have to go and claim the relic from the chamber, and begin the next phase of the plan. They were all moving ahead now, making new choices for the sake of preserving the world and all its people. Maybe this time the choices he was making were the right ones.
*break*
A few weeks after the revelation in the pharmacy Oscar and Ruby stood outside at Vale's airship docks. Oscar had a bag slung over his shoulder filled with possessions acquired in the last week while they had scrambled to prepare for the next phase of their plan. All around them crowds of people hurried about navigating their way to their ships, or stood off to the side with loved ones to say their farewells before boarding.
"Do you have everything you need? Tooth brush? Pajamas? Scroll charger?"
"You helped me pack last night, so yes," and here he was saying his goodbye-for-now.
Ruby fiddled with the lapels of his coat, air puffed into her cheeks. They were a little more filled in and a little more colorful; both of them gained back some of the weight they'd lost from wandering the Grimmlands with limited rations. After being in the past for around a month now, Oscar was happy to see that she was healthier than when they arrived. "You should really get a heavier one, it'll be winter soon, and you never know when your Aura might break and you'll wish you had a good coat."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"And make sure you call every night. We have fully operational CCT towers for the first time in a decade, so let's put them to work."
Oscar laughed lightly, "Of course, it's a promise."
She stopped fidgeting with his buttons and rested her hands on his shoulders. One silver eye, narrowed and serious, looked up at him imploringly, "And whatever you do, don't get kidnapped."
"You get kidnapped one time and people never let you live it down," he sighed in mock dejection.
"I'm not blaming you! I just want you to be safe!" Ruby insisted. Oscar found the reaction cute, so let himself be fussed over. "Listen, if someone tries to kidnap you just tell them 'sorry, you can't, Ruby said no.'"
The absurdity of the notion made him grin, "And what should I do if they don't listen?"
"Then blow them sky-high with your magical screw-off powers."
"Alright," Oscar guffawed. "That's plan B. How about I just try to avoid kidnappings altogether?"
"Good," the smile Ruby gave him was small and fluttering, like a tiny bird, but when he blinked it flew away and was replaced with a somber look. "I'll miss you."
It would be the first time they'd separated for such a length of time in years, he would certainly be missing her too. He set his bag down at his side and put his arm around her waist, stepping closer to her. "I could stay. I know this was the plan, but we could figure out another option. Or we could go together."
"No, we've pushed it off as long as we can. The ball needs to start rolling, now, and we have too much ground to cover." Dejectedly, she sighed. "Splitting up is the smartest move."
"Are you sure you're going to be okay though?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"Maybe because, and bear with me here, you're pregnant?"
"Oscar, I'll be fine."
"See, that's really easy to say, but it's a bit different when you're in the thick of it."
"You get that from your forbidden Oz knowledge?"
"Yes, actually." Diving more into Oz's memories to prepare himself, Oscar had been bombarded with second hand recollections of assisting spouses, sisters, and mothers with their pregnancies. Some of them were humorous, or at least had become humorous by the power of nostalgia and the fact that Oscar himself didn't have to suffer the consequences. Others had been tragedies, heart-wrenching moments that still hurt to remember. Almost all of them had been tinged with a sense of stress and background terror, which Oscar could already empathize with personally. His brain still had a two second 'shut-down' of every time he put 'pregnant,' 'baby,' and 'parent' into a coherent sentence, before he rebooted and got his thoughts reorganized with reality again.
"I called the queen of the Grimm a putrid, maggot-ridden demon skank to her face, cut off her head four times, and was the one to walk away from that fight. I think that qualifies me as a veritable badass, of course I can handle a little pregnancy."
"If you say so," He frowned. He didn't doubt her capabilities for one minute, but this was an entirely different kind of challenge. The blur of doctors appointments, mood-swings, accumulation of odd aches and pains, suddenly not being able to perform basic tasks: even from his perspective as a partner it had seemed rather difficult. Managing all of that on her own in addition to their 'to-do lists,' and the lingering trauma he knew they would both have to suffer alone with for the coming weeks, Oscar thought he was rightfully concerned. "If something happens, just call me and I'll be on the first airship back."
Ruby nodded, "I'll be sure to do that, but it's only two months. I'll survive, and you better survive. I will find your next incarnation and whoop your butt if you die right now." She tilted her head to the side contemplatively and pursed your lips. "Well, maybe not whoop your butt, since that wouldn't be fair to the next. But I will cry. A lot."
"That's actually a more effective threat, please don't."
"Then don't die."
"Yes ma'am," Oscar chuckled, and Ruby smirked back. Before he could say more a last call for boarding for his flight blared over the air dock speaker systems. "That's me."
Ruby's arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He never grew tired of those; the single moment of intense connection and the starburst of heat that started in his head and trickled down his spine, it left him feeling warm and giddy for hours after the fact. He'd make sure to hold onto this one for as long as possible. Regretfully, they had to pull apart. "Love you, pinecone."
"Love you too, rose bud." Oscar snuck one more kiss to her forehead before picking up his bag and slinging it back over his shoulder.
Once he was through the gate he heard Ruby call out to him: "Hurry back!" He looked over his shoulder and saw her standing at the fence, waving. "But don't rush so much you get in trouble! Take the time you need to be safe!"
One last laugh bubbled out of him as he waved back. "Promise!" He called back. Finally he disappeared into the airship, all the while thinking about how much he was going to miss her.
As the ship took off he looked out the window and to the ground, lamenting as the bright speck of red he spotted grew smaller and smaller as they flew away.
*break*
Oscar angled his neck awkwardly to try and work out the cricks from sleeping against the window. The ride had, thankfully, been uneventful. He was awoken by the sound of a flight attendant over the intercom announcing their arrival in Mistral. All around him the other passengers were beginning to calmly disembark. The exit was still crowded and Oscar was decently far back in the seating arrangement, so he decided to wait a few minutes for the people in front of him to disperse. He pulled out his scroll and sent a quick text to Ruby to let him know he'd landed.
A look outside the window showed him early evening sunlight streaming through a panoply of pink, orange, and violet clouds, making for a pretty sight. The Mistralian air ship docks were flooded with people, probably rushing to finish up busy days and go home for the night. Sunset was still a few hours away and it was disorienting; due to the length of the flight and change in time zones Oscar had fallen asleep in one kingdom's evening, slept several hours, only to wake up in another kingdom's evening the next day. He didn't think he'd ever dealt with jetlag in this life yet, but it looked like it was time to learn.
A response from Ruby blipped in his notifications, which made him smile until he did the mental math and realized it was three A.M. in Vale at the moment. 'Go to sleep,' he texted back before pocketing his scroll. Looking up he saw that the crowd ahead of him had thinned some, so he hooked the handle of his new weapon to his belt and rose to exit the transport.
The staff was still unnamed. When Ruby asked him what he wanted to call it, Oscar had jokingly replied that it's name was 'The Lengthy Recollection.' That earned him a smack, courtesy of his own weapon as Ruby snatched the handle out of his hand and bopped on the head with it. She had the most hilarious, unamused expression as she told him he'd get his staff back when he learned to treat it with the respect it deserved. It had taken two hours of, very unconvincing because he kept breaking out it snickers, pleading until she finally returned it on the promise that he wouldn't name it something stupid. So, he still had yet to come up with a worthy title for the thing.
It wasn't the Long Memory, which was a little disappointing. The cane had been the one object he got to keep through most of his reincarnations. It was comforting, like a weaponized safety blanket, but because of that it wasn't something that could be easily replaced. That was part of the reason he'd chosen to make a new weapon instead of attempting to reconstruct it.
The other reason was for security. To avoid any intense scrutiny that would make achieving their goal more difficult, Oscar had to separate himself from Ozpin for the duration of their mission. The Long Memory was just too recognizable to those who knew what to look for. Anyone involved in the shadow war, friend or foe, could see and flag him as suspicious before reporting information to their master. He didn't want to give them any reason to think he was somehow connected to the wizard, not yet.
With the current opportunity, Oscar wanted to capitalize on what was arguably one of Oz's greatest assets: anonymity. Until a new incarnation picked up the cane and revealed himself, Oz became a virtual unknown at the start of each life. Thanks to that advantage Oz could take his time in teaching his incarnation, safe from scathing eyes and all the perils Salem would send to end them before they were ready. Unfortunately due to the destabilized times he had incarnated into Oscar had not received that luxury, with the exception of a few interactions very early on in their partnership. Now he intended to take full advantage of it.
The reason he had chosen a staff, in the particular style he designed it as, was that he eventually planned to come clean about his origins. It would be on his own terms though. While Long Memory was instantly recognizable to most of those 'in-the-know,' it wasn't the only weapon Oz was known for. He'd once wielded a staff just like this, a long time ago, as a wizard in the woods, as a king of an empire, as a hero who fought for justice. But those who knew the man he was then and the kind of weapon he wielded were all long dead. The image was lost, and now only held meaning to two people he was unlikely to personally encounter: Ozpin and Salem.
The appearance of Oscar's current weapon would mean nothing to any scouts that happened to spot him, and would only be telling of his status as one of the many, many combatantants on Remnant. When he eventually revealed himself to Ozpin though? He had a good feeling it would help ease belief in his admittedly far-fetched story of being a time traveling incarnation from a post-apocalyptic future. If it wasn't enough, well, he had plenty of impossible knowledge to share and prove himself.
Oscar was… pretty sure his past incarnation would take it well enough. He'd cross that bridge when he got there. Now, he had a very important meeting to go to.
*break*
The lower district, as one could probably infer from the name, was the part of Mistral with the lowest elevation in the city proper, and thus all the problems that caused. Most of the area didn't see direct sunlight for several long stretches of the day, as it was blotted out by the placement of buildings above it. Combined with the upper districts being mostly uncaring of the design of their drainage system, this led to a perpetual dampness in the air that smelled faintly of mold. It also led to a thick haze of mist that obscured the faces of passersby. Fog curled around Oscar's ankles as he watched each of them carefully, keeping his hand on the silver canister on his belt to protect it from pickpockets.
This was the side of Mistral that he hadn't really seen the first time he came to the capital of the kingdom as a terrified fourteen year old. Their group had kept mostly to the upper district around Haven; the only time he had ventured away from that zone was when he'd first arrived and with the task of finding Qrow. Though there had been a few close calls, the voice of Oz had been able to guide him away from Mistral's more suspect corners as he navigated through a veritable bar crawl on his search for Oz's ally. Considering the kingdom's penchant for crime, it was somewhat of a miracle that Oscar hadn't been mugged or worse the moment he set foot in some of the places he had poked his head into.
Now without that comforting voice, Oscar quietly made his way through a back alley. He breathed in the wet air as he maneuvered through rows of rickety wooden houses. All of Oz's instincts from that time were now his, and he could see all the things he couldn't the first time. He could spot the subtle lumps and folds of clothing that indicated concealed weapons on the belts, hips, backs, and thighs of every other person he passed. Half the ones that didn't have something hidden kept their weapons blatant, and he was willing to bet that the ones that appeared totally bare still had something hidden up their sleeves. He could feel eyes fall on him and linger for brief moments before flitting along to more appetizing targets. As he looked now, in his quite literally war-torn combat gear and the purpose in his gait, Oscar imagined that he blended in much better than the first time. It was easy for him to slip into shadows until he found his end goal.
Eventually Oscar located the familiar symbol of a spider on a web etched in the one of the wood posts of a discrete building half tucked into a back alley. Lil' Miss Malachite and her network of spies and thugs had been a blossom and a thorn to their group in the future. They could be contracted by anybody with the lien to pay their fee, which had sometimes worked in their favor. More often than not though it led to their hiding places being found, their plans being leaked, and the board being tossed up once again to chaos. The whole thing eventually ended with their group spearheading the effort to set Malachite's web on fire; Ren and Blake had led a small team to assassinate Lil' Miss herself, if Oscar recalled correctly.
That was seven years ago for him, and now he was fighting back an acute feeling of frustration from coming face to face with something his mind said should be dead and gone. It was a feeling Oscar thought he should start getting used to, he'd be encountering it a fair bit in the coming months. With a short sigh he pushed the blue curtain in the doorway aside and entered the spider's web.
A moderate din of talking, clinking glasses, and scraping forks greeted him. Muted orange brick walls and dark wooden beams encased the space. The space was wildly different from Junior's club, but somehow it was even less hospitable and more intimidating. Several patrons sat out at the scattered tables, in the dim light he could see the same spiderweb insignia from outside tattooing various parts of their bodies. Each and every one of them cast him a subtle look that sought to completely dissect him in a glance. Oscar wondered briefly what they saw before continuing his way to the back. His combat boots clicked slightly on the cobblestone tiles.
She was hard to miss. While most of her spiders favored muted tones that let them blend into the background, Lil' Miss Malachite was a spot of color. The stout blonde woman in the ornate white and purple dress looked up at him as he approached. They made eye contact, and she gave a coy smirk. "Well hello there, little boy." Her two guards standing behind fixed him with a withering look that dared him to try anything funny.
Oscar hid his own bemused smile behind a polite one as he gave a moderate bow. "Lil' Miss Malachite, I presume? It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I believe we have an appointment." They had gone ahead and set one up through Junior's connections. Turned out that the infamous Lil' Miss was Junior's sister-in-law, and that she had acted as a mentor of sorts to him when he'd been starting his network in Vale. The exact nature of their relationship still eluded and confused Oscar, because several of Junior's looks when talking about her would rapidly shift from haunted, to terrified, to angry, to grudgingly respectful in the span of a minute. He lost count of how many times that cycle repeated during their conversation.
"Hmmm? You have more manners than I expected, considering the splash I hear you made at little Hei's party room." Malachite appraised him, the beginnings of a pleased expression growing as she drawled her words.
Interesting, he thought. "Some people need a kick to the groin before they can have a civilized conversation, ma'am."
There was a moment of silence, until he heard a hearty chuckle. Mirth clearly played on Malachite's face as she reclined in her seat, "Oh, you're a funny one, aren't you? Not wrong though, little Hei can get a bit too uppity for his own good. I appreciate you reminding him of the fact. Now what can I help you with, darling?"
Good, he read the room correctly. If Oscar weren't concealing his weaknesses he would have sighed in relief, "I'm looking for a few people, they might be somewhat difficult to find."
"Well sugar, you came to the right place," Malachite smiled charmingly before flicking out her fan and hiding her grin behind it. She nodded for him to sit down at the chair across from her.
…What a difference this was from the future timeline. Oscar hadn't been a part of the team that sparred against Malachite's corrosive web of criminals, but everything he'd heard had told him she wasn't pleasant to deal with. Now he was having a cordial discussion with her, how times change. He sat down at the table and placed a pouch with the pre-agreed upon amount for the transaction at the center. One of Malachite's minions grabbed it and counted, before nodding and placing it back on the table.
Oscar took out his scroll and pulled up the files he needed before setting it on the table and turning it around. "There are three of them. They may be traveling together, but most likely they will be separated."
Malachite's pale blue eyes scanned the screen, "Quite the variety you've got here. An escaped serial killer, a deceased Atlesian scientist, and a man who's been missing for a decade."
"They say you're the best at finding people, especially in Mistral. I have strong reason to believe that Callows and Rainart are on the continent. I'm sure they won't be a problem for you," Oscar nodded lightly, "Watts may be a bit tricky."
"Because he's supposed to be dead?"
"Because he's a mole, and just like them he's unlikely to leave whatever hole he's hiding in for some time. Out of these three though, he's of least concern."
"I see. Anything else?"
"Please tell your men to be careful, these three are very dangerous. Callows, in particular, is a sadist and would take extreme joy in tormenting any of those he manages to catch." Oscar straightened up, serious. While he held no love for Malachite, her men, or what they did, he would not wish Tyrian's idea of 'fun' on any living thing. A fair warning was the least he could do.
Malachite's eyes widened perceptibly as a look of surprise crossed her face before she schooled her features. At the corner of his eye he caught her two minions exchanging a heavy look at his words. "You really aren't from this side of the world, are you hon?" The spider queen fluttered her fan, then snapped it shut against her palm. "Well sugar, thank you for the warning. We'll get you what you need by the end of the week. You run along now, unless you want to stay for a drink."
"No, thank you for your hospitality," he rose to leave.
As he was heading out the door Malachite called out to him. "Take care, sugar. The world can be a dark and scary place for those people who give a little too much."
Oscar glanced over his shoulder and lightly smiled, like he wasn't already aware of that fact, "I'll keep that in mind."
*break*
Business done for the moment, Oscar had made his way up to one of the middling districts where he was slightly less concerned with being shanked for his wallet. He found an inn and tavern nestled just outside a moderate shopping district, a middle of the road place that managed to cater to crooks hiding in the light, exemplars slipping into shadows, and the ones who were totally average with nothing to hide. Oscar supposed he fit none of those categories, but was drawn in anyway by the delicious smell of whatever their daily dinner special was.
So now he sat at a mostly empty wooden bar with a bowl of chicken fried rice and a glass of iced tea. There was a decent crowd of travelers and locals, but it wasn't suffocating. He was enjoying his meal and thinking about calling Ruby in a while when it was finally a decent hour in Vale, but something odd happened.
Oz has never been omniscient. Magical, pseudo-immortal, and briefly touched by the divine, yes. All knowing, however? Nope, never, and he'd only gained precognition recently on the technicality of Oscar being a literal time traveler. He couldn't just tell when things were wrong, in that respect he was just as blind as everyone else.
Yet that was exactly what happened when she walked in: a woman at the end of the bar. Dressed like a huntress, she had armored boots, a bracer on her left arm, and a pauldron on her right shoulder. A leather strap across her chest held several small pouches, as well as a collapsed staff of her own. Her dark brown hair cut into a neat bob just an inch above her shoulders, and she had eyes the same color as caramel and a beauty mark just below the corner of her left eye.
Oscar fixated on her, abnormally so. A warmth in his chest that refused to be ignored flared up the moment he saw her. If he wasn't as attuned with his soul as he was he might have mistaken it for physical attraction, but it was just slightly different. No matter how much he tried he could not make himself look away. Something about her was alluring, not in the sexual sense but in her presence. A strong desire to sit next to her, be near her, nearly yanked him over to where she was.
Not normal, his conscious mind screamed, rooting in place. Whatever was happening to him, whatever she was doing, it wasn't natural. The world narrowed down to a line, and the only things that existed were himself, the woman, and the bar that connected to him. It seemed that it wasn't just him noticing her either; he caught her sneaking glances at him too. His grip on his spoon tightened.
She smiled at him from across the bar with a touch of coyness before approaching him. The odd fluttering fire in his chest flickered and jerked on his soul, Oscar tensed in preparation. "Hey there," her voice was casual, with a note of playfulness. She sat down in the seat next to him and leaned in a tad too close for comfort.
"Hello, can I help you?" He cleared his throat. Proximity increased the intensity of the strange sensation, but it wasn't all consuming. No, it was more like a bell, something that rang and reminded him of its existence but did nothing to make him actually act.
"Maybe, can I buy you a drink?"
"Oh, I don't drink. This is iced tea," The bartender had rolled her eyes when he'd ordered it, but he didn't let it bother him since it was delicious.
"Barkeep, his next tea is on me. One for me too please, but add rum to it." Unfazed, she snapped her fingers and gave a confident smile. Bubbly would be the word he used to describe her, lively the next. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "So, are you a time traveler?"
And Oscar stopped dead.
Oh gods, she knows. How? Curling despair wailed somewhere in his soul, slowly getting louder and louder until it threatened to drown him out. A whole month of preparations, extensive planning, so much sacrifice, were they all about to be rendered useless because of some-
"Because I see you in my future!" Chimed the women cheerfully.
Oscar blinked, "What?"
"Because I see you in my future? Get it? Time traveler, in my future?" She repeated, but whatever the hell was going on still didn't make a lick of sense to Oscar. At his lack of response her confidence wavered and her expression slipped into something sheepish. She lightly scratched her temple and averted her gaze to look at the floor, a nervous titter escaping her. "Oof, that was a really bad one, wasn't it?"
"A-" He stuttered, "A bad what?"
"A bad pick-up line?"
"Pick-up line?" What was a pick-up line? How did she-the word abruptly clicked and a memory from the Oz collective shot to the forefront of his mind. It was more recent than most; suddenly he was Ozpin in his early twenties, before the merge and officially becoming headmaster and fully assuming the massive duty of his soul, out for a night on the town with the team he himself had graduated Beacon with. A vivid moment where he had sat at a bar while the others got sloshed, and one particularly inebriated patron strolled up to him with a seductive strut, lidded eyes and smooth honeyed words intent on-oohhhh. Heat invaded Oscar's face as the context caught up with him and strangled his panic with sheer embarrassment. Unthinkingly, he screeched out: "I'm married!"
His outburst was so loud the woman physically jerked back in surprise. He watched her blink in confusion before her eyes widened and her mouth made an understanding 'o' shape. "Oh. Oh wow, sorry. That was probably pretty uncomfortable for you."
"No, it's okay." Oscar shrunk, too numb from the whiplash of emotions. He had to forcefully slow his breathing, the stress of… whatever that was threatened to kill him at the ripe old age of twenty six going on four thousand. "That's, um, yeah."
"Awkward…"
"You get used to it."
She chuckled lightly and swirled her drink around. "Well, this night is not going how I expected it, but hey, let's not send on that bitter note. I'm always down to make new friends!"
"That does sound nice," he responded diplomatically, feeling caution. The… pick-up line had thrown him for a mental loop but he wasn't out of the clear yet. There was still something about this woman that was drawing him in, in a way that felt unnatural. Is this her Semblance? Something mind-altering?
The woman grinned cheekily, her whole demeanor shifted from the somewhat suave stride into a laid-back and inviting posture. "My name's Amber. What's yours, friend?"
Oscar's speculations ground to a halt as the final piece fell into place. Oh, his mind stuttered again, this time from melancholy. More of Ozpin's memories came loose and overlaid with reality, and the lively young woman before him became another dead child, a living corpse encased in metal and glass that would become her coffin. Amber: a name that meant courage, self-confidence, and good luck, and the young woman that embodied her own name so completely.
"I'm Tip," he forced an inviting smile and gave the name from the fake he'd used to get to Mistral. Any other reaction caused by the bubbling guilt and self-loathing was shoved deep down so as not to alarm Amber.
The bizarre attraction he felt towards her suddenly made sense-the heat in his chest, that was the magic of the Fall Maiden. Even after he'd reclaimed it from Cinder, it had spent so long as its own entity that it had developed a vague sense of identity. The power was drawn to itself, so a fraction of the magic Oscar possessed was what pulled him towards its twin with Amber so insistently.
The Fall Maiden didn't appear to pick up on the storm of discomfort that swirled underneath his skin, and raised him her glass. "Nice to meet you, Tip. To a beautiful new friendship."
"To friendship," he echoed, his tone a touch hollow. They clinked glasses and he hid his wince behind a drink. Amber opened her mouth to say more, but was interrupted by a low, rough voice.
"Seems like you're having fun, kid, mind if I join you?"
At the sound of it Oscar dropped his glass, which fell to the ground and shattered. Cursing internally he schooled his expression. He could never forget that voice, but as much as he cared for it, running into its owner now was some of the worst luck posible. Putting on a mask of faux concern and confusion, he let himself look up.
There he met the painfully familiar red eyes of Qrow Branwen-protector, mentor, friend-in the flesh and not as a bloodstained ghost.
*break*
Qrow squinted at the man across from him. Amber had given him the stink eye she always did whenever he butted into her personal life, but once the shattered glass caused by his Semblance was cleaned up she'd been quick to relent and insisted their little trio moved to an actual table instead of the bar. Now he sat on the other side of the mysterious 'new friend,' with his arms crossed as he looked the new guy up and down.
Tip Evergreen, he had introduced himself as. Moderate height, maybe a little below average. He had a thinner build, but Qrow could tell from experience that the guy was athletic underneath the worn and torn huntsman gear. The collapsed staff with the dust crystal attachment that drew Qrow's eye when he'd walked in was clipped to the man's side, ready to be used. He carried a weapon in a public place, which was suspicious even if it blended in well with the mundane, so Qrow would assume he was an active combatant.
His assignment of keeping an eye on Amber was one he took seriously. Spotting potential threats to the Fall Maiden was something he did constantly, instinctively. That's why he'd been watching closely when this guy started talking to his charge. From the distance it had been unclear which of them had approached the other first. If this Evergreen guy had struck up a conversation with Amber unprompted, then there could be a problem.
That was enough to put Qrow on edge. It didn't help that the guy was staring at him so intently. Big hazel eyes seemed to spend more time fixed on Qrow than on Amber while she babbled through some funny anecdote about the time she got kicked off a transport to Atlas for trying to sneak a cat on board in her luggage.
Qrow would give the guy one thing, he had to have balls of steel. He didn't even flinch when Qrow made direct eye contact. That kind of reaction was fucking weird and raised all the red flags. Why was he focused on Qrow and not Amber? Did he recognize Qrow? Did he know him as one of Oz's agents, or from something else?
Qrow trusted his gut. It came with years of looking over his shoulder for enemy bandits, Grimm, Salem's agents, and the consequences of his own damn Semblance. If he got bad vibes, then something was wrong. But Freckles wasn't setting off the alarms, not exactly. Whatever he was just felt strange. There was this odd sense of deja vu about him, though Qrow was almost certain they'd never met before.
Deciding to test his reactions, Qrow forced a chuckle. "You know, if you stare at me so much I'll think you have the hots for me."
Immediately Freckles's expression shifted into a look of confusion, before twisting into blatant horror. "Oh-! N-no! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to stare."
Flustered. Far more expressive than what he'd expect from a spy or an assassin, but he could just be very good at his job. "It's fine, I know I'm gorgeous." Qrow leaned in, maybe he could cause a crack in the innocent facade.
"No no no no, that's not it I swear." Evergreen jolted back stammering, face growing redder by the second. "It's because you kind of look a lot like my father figure?"
"Is that some kind of daddy joke?"
Evergreen audibly gagged, "Ew, Gods no," his face morphed into a disgusted cringe.
Their table fell totally silent. The din of the tavern filled the void as Qrow stared stunned at Evergreen, whose own eyes went as wide as saucers.
Amber fell face first onto the table in a fit of cackles. "'Ew,' he said 'ew,' oh my gods he took one look at you and said 'ew!'" She banged her fist on the table as she struggled for breath.
Qrow blinked, a little dazed. He looked down at himself. Ew? He thought.
"I am so sorry! I didn't mean it like that!" Evergreen backtracked so fast he could have rivaled Ruby in a footrace. "You're not gross or anything like that that's not what I meant I'm sure you're very handsome or something but I'm married and you're just not my type and all-"
Amber's laughter turned into a howl, "Not his type-!"
"Okay! That's enough!" Qrow snapped.
"I really didn't mean it like that." Freckles had taken some time to breathe between his words, but he was still wincing. "That was a reflex, because it's weird to think of the guy who took care of me like a son in any kind of sexual context. I didn't mean to cause any offense. Can we start over? Please?"
Qrow sighed, exasperated. "Fine." Muffled laughter could still be heard from Amber as she was still losing her shit. Qrow flicked her temple, eliciting a sharp squeak from the Maiden. This wasn't how he was expecting the conversation to go, whatever this was.
The relief was obvious on the other man's face. "I'm Tip Evergreen, it's really nice to meet you."
"Qrow Branwen," he gave, watching closely.
His charge raised her hand, still weak with laughter. "And I'm Amber." There was no obvious reaction in Freckles's features to indicate familiarity with either his or Amber's name. He just gave a smile that, for whatever reason, rang bells in Qrow's head. Still not warning bells, but… there was something familiar about that smile. "So what brings you to Mistral?"
"I'm from here originally, or, well, one of the settlements nearby. I have some personal matters to attend to." Freckles answered easily. The tension in his posture seemed to drain out of him. "My wife and I just moved to Vale. Getting documentation for immigration between kingdoms is very tedious. It doesn't help that the town I grew up in has very few records, all of them paper."
Amber hummed acknowledgingly. "Sounds tough."
"It's manageable. How about you two? Are you from here?"
"No, just passing through. I love traveling to new places. Meeting new people, seeing the sights, helping out who I can. It's a good life." Qrow twitched. He didn't like this question, he didn't like Amber giving out any info to suspicious guys in bars, no matter how vague it was.
"I'm watching out for this brat as a favor to a mutual acquaintance," he intoned, fixing Evergreen with a warning look. Once again, he didn't react like a normal person. Most people under Qrow's scrutiny would grow increasingly uncomfortable, but not Freckles apparently. No fidget, no flinch, not even an aversion of eyes. Bastard just smiled again in the weird, familiar, knowing way. Qrow shifted awkwardly in his seat before plopping a hand on Amber's head and ruffling her hair like one of his nieces. "She's so annoying though, I'm thinking of ditching her."
Amber playfully swatted his hand away, "Psh, you love me. And you know what, I keep saying you should check in with some of your Mistralian huntsmen friends. Socialize for once. I can't be the one to make you talk to other people all the time."
"Don't worry about it sweetheart," Qrow rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious!" Amber whined. "It's concerning, you don't talk to anyone. Like, at all."
Now he was starting to get offended. "I talk to people." And his charge had the nerve to just look at him. He growled in response. "Fine, I think my favorite dumbass Shiro Wan still operates out of Mistral. I'll hit him up before we move on. We've run into each other a couple of times since Beacon, it'd be nice to catch up."
"There you go!" Amber beamed, and he was instantly regretting his promise.
A soft chuckle from the other end of the table brought him back to their third. Evergreen was smiling that damn smile again: soft wrinkling around the eyes, slight tilt of his head, look that said he was...proud, maybe? The context wasn't right and it looked strange on his face so it continued to make Qrow uneasy. "You're a huntsman," Freckles didn't ask, he stated.
Qrow narrowed his eyes on the man, and opened his mouth to respond. But Amber beat him to the punch. "Yeah! He's decent enough." He inhaled sharply, this kid.
Then Freckles had the nerve to laugh, "Well then, thank you for your service."
"Yeah yeah, you're welcome and all that. What about you Freckles, you a huntsman?"
He shook his head and hummed lightly, "Oh, no. Not licensed or anything. But growing up I had some huntsmen friends who taught me a lot, so I know how to fight. Living outside the kingdoms is risky, learning how to combat Grimm is always a useful skill."
"That's fair," Qrow answered, feeling a tinge of frustration. Such reasonable answers, almost too reasonable. "Where's your wife?"
"Pardon?"
"Your wife, didn't she come here with you?" Questioned Qrow again, leaning forward.
"No, just me. She stayed in Vale."
"Is that so? Why's that?" he layered his tone with obvious suspicion. He could feel Amber scrutinizing him for being too paranoid, but what Amber somehow didn't understand even with the shiny target over her head was that it wasn't paranoia if people were really out to get you. Aggression during interrogations was a tactic he was good at. The point of it wasn't to get an answer but to gauge reactions. Was he defensive? Did he mix up facts? What did his body language look like?
Freckles yet again refused to follow norms, and his freckled face blushed pink like a schoolgirl. "Well that's because she's expecting."
Expecting? Qrow thought, Expecting wha-…Oh for fuck's sake.
"Oh my gods congratulations! You must be so excited!" Amber clapped with giddiness. Why, he couldn't say. It wasn't like she was having the baby.
Freckles smiled nervously-and now he supposedly had a legit reason for that too didn't he?- and scratched the back of his head. Once again the action was familiar, but Qrow could actually place it this time. Tai had often made the same face when he was cornered by housewives and little old grannies in the supermarket with Summer during her pregnancy. "Thank you. And yes, though honestly it's a little terrifying."
"I'm sure, but that will make it all the more worth it when the baby's born." She grabbed Freckles's gloved hand and made a tiny excited squeal that hurt Qrow's ears. Amber then launched into a rapid fire of questions that Qrow wished he could tune out but didn't because it could be important. How far along was she?-twelve weeks. Is this your first child?-yes. Have you decorated the nursery yet?-no, not yet. They went on and on, and Qrow didn't learn a single interesting thing.
After what must have been hours of back and forth Freckles finally yawned obviously enough that Amber took notice. "It's getting late, isn't it? Sorry, you must be tired."
"I should be getting to sleep soon, I have an appointment in the morning. But it's been a lovely conversation. Thank you for sitting down with me, it's been a pleasure to meet you." Freckles grinned. Oh thank the brothers, Qrow thought, the mindless chit chat was finally coming to an end.
"You too! Good luck with the baby! Actually…" Amber fished out her scroll from her pocket and put it on the table. "Here, give me your number. I really want updates!"
Was that… do people normally demand the scroll numbers of strangers they meet in a tavern? Wait- Qrow thought, Yes they do, but for baby pictures?
Freckles also seemed a little uncomfortable with the idea, so perhaps Qrow wasn't as out of touch with the younger generation as he thought. Still, he punched his number into Amber's contact list, who immediately turned around and snapped an unsuspecting picture of Freckles. She giggled over his caught off guard face and made it his contact pic, to his weak protests. Qrow could only roll his eyes over her antics.
Finally they said their goodbyes and goodnights. Freckles walked away after an affectionate hug from Amber in the opposite direction of their inn.
Qrow ended up leaving with certainty that Evergreen was not a common hired crook. Even with all of his odd quirks his story was too solid and his reactions too genuine. In all likelihood his gut had raised a false alarm, and the freckled man was exactly who he said he was: a civilian that's seen a little action outside the walls of a kingdom, eager to start a new life with his family somewhere safe and cozy like Vale's defensive walls. Normal, ordinary, not harmless but not a threat either. In Qrow's professional opinion, the chances of Tip Evergreen being responsible for some elaborate plot involving magic and the Maidens and the Circle's little shadow war seemed pretty low.
Not zero, of course, never zero, but pretty low.
A/N: Oscar starts this chapter with actual revenge murder but the thing that almost breaks him is getting hit on. twice. *for the record, the reason why Amber hit on Oscar this chap is because she was also feeling he mystical pull of the fall maiden power, but unlike Oscar she doesn't have the benefit of all his soul-organization days and was unable to distinguish the magical fixation from physical attraction.
consistency of tone? what's that? is it edible?
real talk: I'm not entirely happy with this chap. the things i wanted to happen happened, but i'm not sure my words were the most efficient? idk how to say it. or i might just be down on it because i wrote all my favorite parts a long time ago (like the flashback scene? that was written actual months ago) and slogged through all the less-fun-but-necessary connecting bits in the past few days so that's what's wearing on me. i'm trying to introduce a lot of elements for the plot that will be used later, but at the moment it feels a little stiff to me. uggh.
let me know what you think in the reviews! or hit me up on tumblr since i have that now i guess