Ch 9 - Serious Scorpion Scuffle
A/N: For lack of a better title idea, I decided to go with the triple alliteration theme I went with the last time Tyrian fought Vyliria. Suffice to say, there's some changes that will be occurring here.
I also realize that despite letting her live in this timeline, I haven't actually done another Pyrrha POV yet. It's time to rectify that.
RWBY is now owned by Viz Media. Cool, I guess. I'm still on a wait-and-see mode for what they're going to cook up next, though.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Souls or RWBY. Dark Souls belongs to From Software and RWBY belonged to RoosterTeeth, and now belongs to Viz Media. I only own my OCs.
(Nora)
The skies were overcast this evening. It seemed appropriate to Ren's general mood, because despite the amount of times she'd tried to initiate conversion with her partner today (twenty-three so far), the most he'd responded with was a sullen glance to meet her eyes before looking away rapidly. Nora hoped that he'd get out of his funk soon, but for now she'd decided to give him some space. At the moment, she was walking at the front of the caravan of the Shion refugees, eyes scanning the road to the left while Azul Carmon checked to the right, on the off chance a Grimm managed to get past Vyliria and Penny.
Speaking of the Irithyllian and her unofficial gynoid partner, the pair passed into view from behind some trees. "Something's come up, less than a mile ahead," the unkindled remarked, skipping any pleasantries.
"We found a town," Penny supplied.
"I checked with my darksign. In addition to appearing in a ruined state at first glance, I didn't see any living souls within the walls. If the walls are intact enough, it would make a defensible location to spend the night."
"Right," Azul responded, "I'll pass the news down the caravan, you three scout ahead and start checking the town out."
Vyliria's nod was accompanied by an enthusiastic "Affirmative!" from Penny and a "You got it!" from the ginger bomber herself.
As they walked through the trees, Nora took over the conversation before Vyliria could get started on something serious and boring or Penny would launch onto another tangent. Well, she didn't really mind the latter of those options, it's just that she wanted to start the tangent this time. "So is it just me, or have you two become a lot more synergistic lately?"
Both the non-human women turned to look at her, but it was the unkindled who responded first. "I will admit that I didn't expect you to use a word that long."
"Hey!" Nora shouted, incensed by the implication.
Vyliria raised her hands. "My apologies. I just tend to forget that you're more complex beneath the surface, given your general… demeanor."
"Just because I like to be exuberant doesn't mean I'm an airhead," Nora muttered.
Penny looked on with worry as Vyliria stopped and looked towards the ground. "I... Nora… that was uncalled for. I'm truly sorry, and I didn't mean to insult you. I… fuck, I need to work on not being so callous."
Nora cringed, but accepted the apology for what it was. "Look, Vyl, we all have our off days. Let's just pretend this didn't happen and get back to my first question."
"Oh!" Penny interjected, "We've been hunting Grimm together a lot the past few days, so our combat efficiency as a pair has dramatically increased."
"Yes," Vyliria agreed, "generally speaking, working with others to stab things works towards the goal of being able to fight better together. Speaking of fighting together, I had an idea as we were heading back from the town." They paused as they came out of the forest, and took a look at the abandoned settlement before them, with its empty cobblestoned streets, and white stone walls, with a circular entryway serving as a gate, a few houses looking to have been abandoned mid-construction visible through the portal.
"You didn't tell me about the idea," Penny said as they moved into the town, staying within sight of each other as they fanned out to check the area for any lurking Grimm.
"Well, it concerns Jaune, so I was intending to talk to him, but the opportunity to segue into it presented itself, so I took it. Anyways, if he can boost the auras of others, do you think he could use it to bolster the strength of his own? Obviously, it would burn through his aura at an even faster rate, but if he could, he would likely be able to dramatically increase his strength, speed, and endurance for short periods."
"That's an awesome idea!" Nora called out as they went behind a row of houses to find even more empty, abandoned town.
Vyliria shrugged. "I mean, we don't even know if he could do it in the first place."
"Still, if he could, it would have a lot of combat applications," Penny chimed in.
"I suppose," the Irithyllian agreed, as they finished inspecting the environs, regrouping at the town square to converge on what appeared to be a sign with vines growing over its front. Penny stepped forwards, pulling the vegetation aside, and looked at the writing, but it wasn't her that uttered the name on the wood.
"Oniyuri," Azul said in an even voice as he and the rest of VAAPPR strode into the town at the head of the caravan. "Mistral's Mountain Glenn, if it had been overrun by the Grimm before it was fully built."
"Years ago, the richest people in Mistral were unhappy with the way the council was running the city," Ren offered as way of explanation. "So they pooled their wealth and resources together to build their own city, with their own laws. The hope was that one day, it might even become its own kingdom. Many people thought it would be the future." Nora looked on with concern that Ren managed to appear even more depressed than before. "I know that my parents did…"
She jogged up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Ren just stood still, with clenched, shaking fists. Nora fought the urge to cringe when her mind flashed to her own repressed memories of her youth. "What happened?" Penny inquired.
"What always happens," Azul said with a resigned voice. "The Grimm."
Ren swallowed, and Nora saw him use his semblance on himself, taking a few steps forward to put a hand on his shoulder. "Not just any one."
"Just one?" Pyrrha asked, askance at the implication.
A murder of crows flapped overhead as the wind picked up, and Nora spotted Vyliria suddenly stiffen out of the corner of her eye. The huntsmen and huntresses turned to the Irithyllian even as the Shion refugees fanned out into the surrounding buildings in this section of the town.
"Something feels off," she said, slowly turning around, and eyeing the rooftops. She took a breath, and several of the nearby civilians gasped when her darksign burned to life on the back of her shoulder. She did a slow circle, and Nora knew her eyes were roving for something only she could see. She froze two thirds into her turn. "Fuuuuuck," she droned out.
"What is it?" Jaune asked.
"Remember that Tyrian prick that I fought against with Neo?"
"The… scorpion faunus working for Salem?" Nora asked.
"Salem?" Azul questioned. VAAPPR cringed, because they forgot that that wasn't supposed to be general knowledge, but to Vyliria's credit, she moved on as if Nora hadn't asked the question.
"I saw his soul straight ahead, and coming closer fast. Fuck, he could slaughter the civilians. We need to fight him in a different locale, but we need to leave some people behind in case he tries to go around to use the civilians as hostages."
"You fought him, what do you know about him?" Azul asked.
"He's a scorpion faunus, though Neo cut off his tail in our last fight. The poison in it was incredibly potent, however. He's fast, deranged, and extremely dangerous. His wrist blades double as low caliber automatic weapons, and when he uses his semblance, his irises flash purple. His semblance apparently lets him cut through aura, which paired with his fanatical desire to harm his foes even at his own expense makes him an even greater threat," Vyliria listed off. She paused for half a second, before her head shot up in an evident epiphany. "But his weapons are metal." Her head turned to Pyrrha.
Nora caught on to the developing plan before the unkindled could articulate it. "So you and Pyrrha will go deeper into the town to intercept him, while the rest of us guard the civilians?"
"Exactly."
"Okay," Pyrrha agreed.
"But I want to help you," Penny protested.
Vyliria turned to the gynoid, stepping forwards and putting her hands on her shoulders. "Penny. Gods forbid something happens to us, but just in case, you have the fastest reaction time of any of us. I trust you the most to protect these people."
Penny blinked, but nodded, a resolute expression on her face. "Okay!"
Nora watched as they went to set off further into Oniyuri, but Vyliria stopped after the first few steps. "Oh, and tell Jaune about my idea!" she called back, before she turned to catch up to Pyrrha, and Nora got a blast of nostalgia as the Irithyllian raised her right fist to her side, in a gesture she'd called "silent resolve," like she had all the way back during initiation in Beacon.
"What idea?" Jaune asked, clearly confused.
"Oh, fearless leader, you're gonna love this!" Nora said. She didn't really understand why he swallowed nervously, though she put that in the back of her mind as she made a brief mental detour to wish her friends the best of luck.
(Pyrrha)
Pyrrha swallowed, her nerves getting the better of her. This was the first time since Cinder that she would be going into a fight knowing that it would have a skilled, sapient opponent that was willing to end her life. Next to her, Vyliria had drawn the Moonlight Greatsword, taking slow, shallow breaths as she used her darksign to track the approaching foe.
"Tyrian is deranged," she said in a low voice. "And weird, which says a lot coming from me, but I digress. There is no reasoning with him. He won't stop until he has completed his goal, or some part of his mind decides that failure is better than not returning to his 'goddess' at all. Are you prepared to take a life, Pyrrha?"
The tournament champion looked to the unkindled. Her breathing quickened for a few seconds. The last time she'd been in this scenario, she'd given her all, and had nearly gotten both herself and Jaune killed. She'd failed, and had been given an all-too-real demonstration that her title of "Invincible Girl" was a blatant lie. That despite her skill, she hadn't been good enough to protect her friends, the man she loved, and that she ultimately only still drew breath because of the animate corpse by her side. Not knowing how to broach those fears and insecurities to any of her friends, this whole time they had only grown and festered, and she'd just barely been able to shove them down while fighting Grimm. Yet Tyrian was no creature of darkness. And furthermore, was she prepared to take a life? Even when she'd fought Cinder, while a logical part of her had said that there was only one way to ensure the powers of the Fall Maiden didn't remain with the usurper, despite the fact that Cinder had clearly been trying to kill her and Jaune both, she'd only been fighting to incapacitate; to maim at worst. She hadn't been oblivious more recently either. Her own guilt had only been compounded when she learned that Penny had been forced to take lives to protect others, and that she'd been wracked by guilt before a talk with Vyliria had caused a shift in the gynoid's worldview.
Unfortunately, she'd have to answer her internal dilemma in the heat of the moment, because they were out of time. A figure leapt from a building above them, landing on the other side of the pair of women, flicking his arms behind him as he deployed his wrist blades, and looked up at them with a demented grin and a sinister glint in his yellow eyes. At the moment, he was wearing a brown trenchcoat, open at the front, which obscured what would have remained of his tail from view. He sprinted directly at Vyliria, leaping over a wave of teal moonlight she sent at him with a horizontal swipe of her blade, before swinging both hands down for an overhead strike. Metal clanged as she blocked with her own blade in a two-handed grip, before Tyrian sprang back from the impact, and transitioned to a leg sweep as soon as he landed. Vyliria yelped as her footing was taken from under her, but remained resolute, twisting as she fell and thrusting a palm towards the ground. Tyrian was forced to raise his hands to block the larger-than-normal blast of black flame that fired towards the ground, and the unkindled used the recoil of the midair cast to launch herself upwards, before twisting and thrusting a palm behind her to repeat the spell, sword glowing teal as she blasted down toward her opponent. Tyiran leapt out of the way of both the blade and the eruption of lunar magic as the blade impacted the ground, but Vyliria was forced to raise her sword to block a hail of gunfire as Tyrian unloaded at the Irithyllian.
Pyrrha had not been idle however, and even though the fight had gone on for less than ten seconds, she was already sprinting forwards to help her teammate. Phalanx whistled through the air, Tyrian twisting his head to the side at the last second to avoid the transposed weapon, before Miló was magnetically pulled from her hip to her right hand. Her left drew the sunlight talisman instead of Aukúo̱, prayers leaving her lips as she reared a hand back.
The Great Lord Gwyn lead his knights against the Everlasting,
Clouds of greatarrows sailing forth, and golden bolts blasting,
Yet when even all their efforts failed to make their scales break,
They were always shattered by their Lightning Stakes!
Tyrian backflipped to dodge the impact of the spell, landing on his feet, albeit out of a combat stance. Pyrrha didn't let her own guard down, and neither did Vyliria.
"Tyrian," the unkindled spat. To his credit, the deranged servant of Salem didn't seem to care about the animosity directed his way.
"Pyrrha Nikos, as I live and breathe," he began theatrically, arms spread wide. "Why, I've never had the opportunity to fight a celebrity before." Pyrrha grit her teeth, swapping her talisman for her shield, but nonetheless directed one quizzical eye towards Vyliria.
"I told you, he's weird," the unkindled whispered. Aloud, she spoke to her foe, asking, "And why are you here again? Revenge?"
"Well," the maniac began, "I will admit, revenge is a nice bonus to the orders our goddess has given me, but no. I have been given the glorious task of killing you," he said, pointing at Vyliria, "however many times needed to ensure you stay dead."
"Gods have tried and failed that same task," the unkindled dryly shot back. "Real gods." Pyrrha could feel the grin the Irithyllian bore as Tyrian's eyes narrowed at the implied insult. "I sincerely doubt you can do better than them."
"Ooooh, a challenge? I'd be happy to oblige. And while you make your way back from Vale, I can collect the pile of thinking scrap metal as well."
Vyliria tightened her grip on the Moonlight Greatsword so hard that Pyrrha heard her knuckles pop. "You know, now I'm going to enjoy running you through with my blade."
Tyrian closed his eyes, taking in a breath as he smiled. He opened them, appearing terrifying in how calm he looked. "Goooood." He closed the gap to the unkindled in a blink, and the Moonlight Greatsword moved to a one-handed grip as she deflected two jabs from his wrist blades, before Pyrrha's eyes widened as a flash of metal preceded an entirely mechanical scorpion tail flashing out from under his coat and jabbing towards Vyliria's neck. A flash of fire preceded the mechanical appendage barely being intercepted by a dagger, longer than the parrying blade still resting on the unkindled's hip, with a hooked edge, and a talon-like metal protrusion just beneath where the wooden hilt met the metal blade. Vyliria's left hand wrenched to the side, the previously unseen weapon yanking the prosthetic out of the way. Pyrrha called to the magic in Phalanx, the weapon flying back to her grip, poised to stab Tyrian as it did so, and she jabbed with her xiphos at her opponent, though he deflected the javelin with his tail and blocked Miló with a wrist blade. Vyliria stepped forwards and spun clockwise, yet the Moonlight Greatsword also found its path interrupted by a wrist blade, and the dagger in Vyliria's off-hand jabbed forwards only to be intercepted by the tail. Tyrian chuckled, before pushing with both weapons and tail to force the two women back, as he disengaged. He pulled the coat off and tossed it aside, revealing the metallic scorpion tail, tip filled with a no-doubt poisonous purple liquid, in all its glory.
"Godsdamnit," Vyliria complained aloud. "Neo cut that off fair-and-square!"
"Ah, but all's fair in love and war, my undead foe," the man replied with glee.
Pyrrha decided that enough was enough. With a flicker of black Polarity, Aukúo̱ was removed from her hand as she thrust a palm forwards, grabbing Tyrian's weapons and tail with magnetic force and lifting him into the air to spread his arms and tail out and render him immoble. "Then this would be fair as well," she taunted.
Tyrian actually looked surprised at the development. "Touche." He looked as if he was going to continue, but a sharp intake of breath from Vyliria caused him to merely raise his eyebrow instead.
"Where did you get those rings?" the Irithyllian asked with a dangerous undertone to her voice. Pyrrha took a second look at Tyrian, noticing two strange rings on his right hand, one of which looked identical to the Pontiff's eye ring Vyliria had given Yang, and another looked incredibly similar.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" Tyrian taunted, before his eyes, hands, and tail flashed purple… and Pyrrha's grip with her Polarity vanished with it. With a cackle, he sprinted straight at Pyrrha, who stood dumbfounded that her semblance had just failed. She reacted slowly, too slowly, and was only saved from a hit that would have gone straight through her aura by Vyliria shoving her out of the way to take the blow herself. She was sent flying, but righted herself in midair and maneuvered the Moonlight Greatsword beneath her, bracing her feet on the blade and letting it carve a furrow into the ground until she came to a stop. Her hood had been thrown down, and her head shot back up even as she crouched against her own weapon, a cold anger in her mismatched eyes as she hopped off the blade. Ignoring the black blood spurting from her throat, which had been ripped open by the blow, she merely drew forth her estus flask and took a small sip, pocketing it and drawing her blade from the ground as the wound healed. She bolted forwards, sword held to her side as her dagger-bearing arm was bent in front of her, the weapon in a reverse-grip.
Pyrrha attempted another grab with her Polarity, but the black of the magnetic field was torn apart by purple once more. Looking to her outstretched hand, she realized it was shaking, and her breathing was quickening, but she pushed it down with a swallow and went to help her friend. Vyliria reached him first, sliding to the ground, using her dagger as an anchor to swing the Moonlight Greatsword in a wide arc. Tyrian leapt over the teal blade, and Vyliria rolled away from a jab from the metal stinger, which he used to propel himself back into the air. Pyrrha raised Aukúo̱ to block a hail of bullets he fired at her, and as he came back down at her, and she threw the shield and it struck him in the midsection, halting his momentum. The tournament champion called the shield back to her, leaping above it and positioning its face to act as a springboard, bounding off it and launching herself at him, Phalanx held in both hands as she stabbed. His tail grabbed the blade, yanking it down and out of the way, and when her eyes noted purple flickering on his blades, she used Polarity to pull herself back by her armor, the attack passing through the air she'd occupied less than a second prior. She drew Miló and called her shield back. So his semblance only stops mine from working on him, not anything else, she thought. She grit her teeth as a voice in the back of her mind repeated useless as a mantra.
She drew her talisman, running it along her xiphos while intoning the miracle for lighting blade as fast as she could, while Vyliria reengaged. Two swipes from her dagger were intercepted, and she moved her greatsword to block his stinger, before dismissing the dagger and using black flame to launch herself into the air again, immediately followed by another that shot herself at him with a spin. Tyrian crossed his wrist blades in front of him, blocking the impact of her greatsword, but she flipped away, landing next to him and gripping the Moonlight Greatsword with both hands, getting two swings through to his aura before he could lower his guard. His mechanical tail lashed out again, this time wrapping about her wrists before yanking the sword out of her grip and tossing it to the side. He grinned at her and chuckled as her eyes flicked to the weapon for a fraction of a second, before she glared, jabbing her right hand forwards with two fingers pointed out, poking him in the eyes. He screamed and backpedaled as he brought his hands to his face, and the Irithyllian followed up with a punch to the sternum, causing him to stumble back further, before she took a step forwards and roundhouse-kicked him in the face. He stumbled to the side this time, and recovered just in time to see Vyliria rear her left hand back and swing a flame fan at him. The massive mirror of fire hit him twice, and Pyrrha finally finished her spell and ran at him. Phalanx flew back towards her, jabbing Tyrian in the side before returning to her back, and she locked Miló with one wrist blade, throwing up the armored gauntlet of her left hand, still holding her talisman, and rightfully trusting the metal to block the other despite it going through her aura. Polarity raised her shield to block the stinger with a clang of metal, while Vyliria made a dash for her discarded weapon.
Tyrian kicked her back, and went on the offensive, her talisman hastily shoved to her hip as she backpedaled, using her semblance to keep her shield intercepting every jab from his prosthetic, as she drew Phalanx and desperately dual-wielded to attempt to hold back his weapons. Given that dual (technically triple, with her semblance on Aukúo̱) wielding was something she'd never done before, she was forced to rely on Polarity to repeatedly bodily pull herself out of the way of blows she failed to stop, the concentration already taxing, and his blows only strengthening with each strike, courtesy of the rings he had. Vyliria used her hooked dagger to shift her momentum, spinning as she grabbed her own blade, before charging at Tyrian's back without losing speed. He heard the approaching footsteps, and his stinger blocked the first swipe of her greatsword, before he threw one wrist to intercept the second. He glanced at both of them, bringing his stinger to the ground and using it to hold himself up, raising his feet from the floor, and doing a full split to kick them both back. He threw himself at the unkindled, who used both hands to hold her blade and block twin strikes from Tyrian.
Pyrrha placed her weapons away, drawing her talisman with her left hand and Aukúo̱ with her right. Even as she threw the shield to strike Tyrian's stinger in order to prevent it from striking Vyliria, her left hand reared back as she began to cast.
The dragons swarmed in endless hordes,
Against them stood the first of the Lords,
Gwyn brought his personal wrath upon his hated foes,
Each glowing white lance laying an Everlasting low,
And all across the battlefield the wyrms did quake in fear,
As the great Lord smote them all with his Sunlight Spears!
The shield bounced off his tail, glowing black as it began to swing back to her, and Tyrian's eyes widened as he noticed the spell start flying towards him. Several things happened in the next three seconds. Firstly, the scorpion faunus bodily threw himself out of the way of the glowing white bolt of Gywn's wrath. Secondly, Vyliria was thrown off balance by the sudden lack of resistance to her own sword, left hand losing its grip on the weapon as it swung wide, right arm too far to move the blade back into a blocking position in time. Vyliria's eyes widened, and the next thing to happen was a clear presentation of her inhuman reflexes, embers racing down her left arm, still in front of her chest, albeit at a slight angle. A fraction of a second before the miracle struck the Irithyllian, the golden wing crest shield bloomed forth in her left hand in a wash of burning ash. The ancient magics in it barely had time to activate, the shield just beginning to glow gold when the sunlight spear struck. With a brilliant flash, a deafening bang accompanied by a shearing sound akin to metal rupturing, and a shower of golden sparks, the spell ricocheted… and flew directly into Tyrian, still midair from his hasty, and ultimately failed, evasion.
He screamed as the spell impacted, blasting him back as his aura flickered and struggled to stay up. He tumbled across the cobblestoned ground a few times, before coming to a stop and rising shakily to his feet. Pyrrha froze, turning to look at a Vyliria who was staring ahead, wide-eyed, a dumbfounded expression on her face. A pair of seconds passed, before the unkindled looked down at her shield, looked back up at Tyrian, and then looked left at Pyrrha. Their eyes met, and Vyliria sent the shield back to her storage, picking up her blade before resuming a combat stance, once more facing their foe.
"That was fucking awesome," she said. Pyrrha dumbly nodded. Tyrian just screamed in rage, charging at the Irithyllian once more. Vyliria just narrowed her eyes, and took a breath. Pyrrha readied a lighting arrow, blasting Tyrian's stinger and aborting its attempted strike, while Vyliria used her hooked dagger to parry one of his blades, dropping the weapon to punch him in the face and stagger him. As he stepped back from the unanticipated blow, her left hand grabbed his shoulder, and her right reared back before she gave a shout and plunged the Moonlight Greatsword through his chest. He gasped as his aura broke, and the teal blade came out of his back, coated in red. Vyliria took a step forwards and pushed, dragging Tyrian to the ground along with the sword, before planting a boot on his stomach and wrenching her weapon free in a shower of blood. She flicked the blade to remove most of the viscera, regarding the dying man in front of her. "Rot in the Abyss," she all but spat as she turned to retrieve the dagger she dropped.
As such, she didn't notice the grin spread on Tyrian's face. She didn't notice him rising despite his wounds. And she didn't notice his blades and eyes glow purple as he prepared to lunge. But Pyrrha did. And she threw Phalanx full-force at the scorpion faunus to stop him from harming her friend. Vyliria whipped around, shock on her face, but rather than an attack, she took in the sight of Tyrian stumbling a few steps to the side, a soul transposed spear embedded into the side of his head. His eyes unfocused, and he fell to the side, limbs flopping once as his corpse hit the ground. Pyrrha starred, and realized she just killed a man.
And then a burning circle flared to life on his back, visible through the white shirt he wore. His body evaporated into a white mist that dissipated before their eyes, only Phalanx and splashes of blood left behind. Metal clattered as Vyliria dropped the Moonlight Greatsword, eyes wide, and mouth agape. Pyrrha herself realized the implications of what they just witnessed, and the knowledge that the man she just murdered would come back didn't assuage her peace of mind in the slightest.
"He's undead?" the redhead questioned in a low voice. Vyliria didn't turn at her words. She just continued to stare. Pyrrha tried calling out her name, snapping her fingers, and even briefly considered (but didn't attempt) shooting near her with a lightning arrow, but nothing snapped her out of her fugue-state. Finally, after over half a minute, Pyrrha walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, which finally managed to muster a response.
"Oh, fuck."
(Oscar)
The young farmhand found himself reading a book by lantern-light after another hard day's work. He flipped the page, getting to the next chapter of The Man with Two Souls, when his aunt called that dinner would be on the table soon.
"What are we having?" he called through the closed door and down the stairs.
"Doesn't matter, you're eating it," she called back.
Oscar supposed she was right, but he couldn't help himself. "I never agreed to these terms."
"It's part of 'the living under my roof' contract," she countered. "Read the fine print and come wash up."
Oscar slipped a bookmark into his tome, and leaned back, letting his eyes adjust to things that weren't words less than a foot from his face. He sighed, and took a glance up at the ceiling, before flicking his gaze over to the lantern on his night-table. It was gonna need a refill of fire dust by the end of the week, and the stuff was only becoming more expensive the longer the embargo from Atlas carried on. He stood up, stretched briefly, and began to walk to the door.
"We have to leave."
Oscar ignored the voice. "Oscar." The boy grit his teeth. Just ignore it, he thought. "Oscar." More forceful, this time.
His hand paused before touching the doorknob. He swallowed. "I decided you're not real," he told the voice, refusing to name it, "so you might as well just give up."
There was a pause, as if the voice was looking for words to say. "I understand how you're feeling, I went through the same panic and confusion."
Oscar shuddered, walking back to the night-table, and putting the books haphazardly scattered across his room away. "It's not real, it's not real, it's not real," he repeated as a mantra, hoping against hope the action would change reality. He stood up, looking at his reflection in the window.
"I can assure you, you're perfectly sane," the voice said.
Oscar looked at his eyes in the reflection, genuinely doubting that. "I'm talking to a voice in my head." He turned around, moving towards the door once again.
"I didn't say you were normal, I said you were sane. There's quite a significant differen-"
"Shut up!" he shouted. "You think this is funny?!" he hissed, looking back towards the window. "It's not."
"We are in complete agreement on that matter, I promise you. Believe me, I wish this weren't the case. But as I've told you, our aura, our souls, are combined."
"I'm done listening to you," he spat with a scowl.
The voice changed its tone. "Have you ever been to Haven?" This song and dance again?
"I told you I'm not going and I told you that I'm done listening."
"Do you think you could describe the headmaster's office?" That was new.
"No," Oscar said, genuinely confused and trying to figure out what angle the voice was trying now. "Why would I know that, I've never seen-"
"Try," the voice commanded. "Right now."
If it'll shut you up, Oscar thought. "It's probably…" he was going to guess randomly, but then, all of the sudden, images of what he thought would be a school office flashed through his mind. "It's autumn colored," he said, in a near-daze. "With a large mahogany desk. There's a small table and chairs in the corner for guests of the headmaster. With a tea set that… I… I… gave him." His eyes widened, and he took a step back while putting a hand to his head. "Why did I say that?" he asked with alarm. He took another step back, "Why do I know that?" and another, looking down at his hands, "Why did I say that?!"
"Because I helped build that school, and the tea set was a gift to the man running it now," the voice said in a matter-of-fact tone. Oscar staggered over to his bed, plopping down on it and putting his head in his hands. "If you don't believe me, you can look it up," he continued. "If I recall, your aunt has several books on Mistral downstairs. I'm certain you could find a picture in one of them."
Oscar stared ahead, grabbing the lifeline he'd been inadvertently tossed and clinging to it. "That's right, I must have seen it in a picture," he rationalized.
"Oscar."
Oscar shot to his feet. "Stop talking to me!"
"I have a grave responsibility to uphold. We both do."
The anger in the boy left his veins, replaced by a deep fatigue, and he fell to his knees. "I never agreed to anything," he said weakly.
"No, you didn't," the voice sounded remorseful for once, "And neither did I, at first, but you do have an opportunity."
"For what?"
"Greatness, hopefully. Greatness in knowing that when the world needed help, you were the one to reach out your hand. It won't come without hardship, without sacrifice, but I know that you don't want to live the rest of your life working as a farmhand in Mistral."
Oscar's eyes widened. "So you just decided to read my thoughts?!" He was suddenly terrified for the sanctity of his own mind.
"I… well… they're our thoughts now," Ozpin told him. "You saw some of my own memories just a minute ago."
"Get out of my head!"
"Oscar!" his aunt called. "Suppertime! I'd better see clean hands."
The young farmhand sank to his knees, and tears leaked from his eyes. The old Mistralian curse, "May you live in interesting times," came to mind, and now he knew why people had seen it as such.
()
A/N: Hey, good to see you all again (metaphorically, of course). So here's another little change I decided to make, inspired by that scene in Forever Fall where Jaune basically uses his aura to turn into a flashbang while Cardin is holding him in the air. It's also a logical expansion of his semblance: Namely, him using it on himself. Basically, at the expense of burning through twice the aura he'd normally use, he can become the terminator for short durations. Rest assured, given the rule of Chekhov's gun, since I mentioned it, I do intend for him to use this ability later on.
Pyrrha hasn't been having the best of times in her head. Her failed fight with Cinder has really shook her perceptions of her own abilities, and she's been silently struggling with a growing feeling of inadequacy as she seems powerless to help those she cares for (Vyl and Penny's growing power creep hasn't helped that), Ren's struggling with past memories being dredged up as they trek across the Mistralian countryside, Penny has had to kill because Pyrrha wasn't fast enough to keep up with the gynoid and the unkindled, Jaune unlocking his semblance by saving her has given her the impression that the man she wants to protect the most is not only capable of better protecting himself, but is better at protecting her as well… and Vyliria is a whole heap of troubles unto herself. Really, only Nora's trucking on as her usual self at the moment. To cut a long explanation short, Yang may not have a PTSD arc in this timeline, but what about Pyrrha?
All this shows itself during her fight with Tyrian, culminating in her killing him to save Vyliria, and the knowledge that he isn't staying dead only makes it worse for her.
Speaking of that fight: I'll start off with the spell parry scene. Every now and then, I just get random ideas to pop into my head regarding the book. Some of these are so fantastic, that I stop whatever I'm doing, and go "I need to write this down," before doing exactly that on my google docs app on my phone. This was one of those scenes. Vyliria's keeping the parrying dagger on her hip, but has finally decided to make the upgrade to the Abyss Watcher's parrying dagger for the additional reach and offensive capabilities. Lastly, here's another idea I had that I wrote down: Vyliria may not have guns to use to maneuver via recoil, but what about spells? Hence, she came up with a larger-than-normal black flame blast to emulate the recoil-based propulsion that Ruby and Yang use on their own weapons, adding a third dimension to her combat style, and finally, properly inserting herself into RWBY style combat.
Finally getting to use Phalanx in combat was cool, though balancing it with Miló and spells was tough. Writing Pyrrha fighting for the first time in a few months was a bit of trouble to get back into, but once I got going it became a blast.
As for Tyrian using his semblance to negate Polarity, this was done for two reasons: One, it serves to ensure there's an actual fight to be had (rest assured, there will be occasions where she just shuts down a fight with her semblance, this just isn't one of them), and serves as a logical expansion of Aura Disruption. He can disrupt what basically amounts to the use of one's soul as a shield. Semblances, while not tied directly to aura in this universe, still come as a direct extension of the soul, rather than a manipulation of the soul (or ambient souls), or channelling power from other sources. As such, I'm allowing Tyrian's semblance to be able to cut through any semblance based form of restraint (even Marrow's STAY, now that I think about it), but not Dark Souls magic (albeit, the only real form of restraint I can recall from DS magic would be tranquil walk of peace from DS1… and I guess Seath's crystal golems and petrification from basilisks, but those aren't things an unkindled can get their hands on). Two, her very first fight with a dangerous (IE: not a bandit, or Raven who runs away as soon as her opponents are distracted by falling water towers) sentient opponent after Cinder is another fight where her semblance, her most powerful tool, is essentially rendered useless, which serves as another big hit to her self confidence and reinforces her own belief that she's a one-trick pony who is a hindrance to her friends without that ace up her sleeve.
This fight was something else. I rewatched Qrow's fight about three times before starting on this (you can notice I pulled some stuff from it). Entire paragraphs happened in seconds. I would think out like three seconds of the fight scene, and then spend ten minutes writing it out.
So, Vyliria noticed Tyrian's Pontiff rings, and isn't happy, and everyone is deeply concerned with figuring out how Tyrian is now undead (spoiler alert: it was Sulyvahn. I mean, the man offered him a way to serve his goddess even beyond death. Of course Tyrian would go for it). Remember, not everything in this story happens on screen, and I very much enjoy saving things like Jaune learning blessed weapon or this until it actually happens. I gotta keep some surprises until the last minute, after all.
AFAIK, we're never told what book Oscar is reading. So I went with The Man with Two Souls for the irony factor. And also 1: Because maybe despite trying to deny Oz in in his head at first he's hoping the book might provide some insight as to how you should react to a sudden voice in your head, and 2: I support the idea that a past life of Ozpin is the one that wrote the book in the first place. Unfortunately, as much as I want to start changing some Oscar stuff, Vyliria hasn't impacted the canon enough that I can reasonably have a farmhand in the arse-end of Nowhere, Anima, diverge from what he's done in the show. Though I can change a little bit of dialogue here and there. But the Oscar plot is gonna be mostly a rehash of canon for now, at least until he gets to Mistral…
Also, writing a fully fleshed out conversation with a voice inside a character's head was a very novel and strange experience. Gonna have to get used to it though. And yes, that use of Ozpin's actual name at the end instead of "the voice" was quite intentional. I trust that you'll be able to figure out why.
"May you live in interesting times," is claimed to be a translation of a traditional Chinese curse. Claimed because I couldn't find an actual source of the saying, despite it being attributed to having originated in China. The interpretation is that a normal life occurs in uninteresting times, where peace and tranquility are the norm, whereas interesting times are times of trouble or strife. For example, WWII would qualify as "interesting times." While I'm going with the headcanon that either part or all of Ancient Mistral is Remnant's Ancient Greece (maybe more prevalent in Northern Mistral), the amount of Oriental architectural influence we see in the show strongly suggests that there is also a history of analogs to east Asian cultures in the Kingdom in the Mountains. Hence, I felt it appropriate to attribute the saying to an unknown source in Mistral's past.
Oh, and as a little teaser, the Nuckelavee is gonna be different, to say the least.