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homogrimoire · 4 years

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Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 5 - Hurt / Comfort

Read it on AO3 here.

Atlas had successfully defended against Salem’s attack, so naturally, a victory celebration scheduled for the next week. In the face of such an evil, people needed to be reminded of all the good things in the world that they were protecting. It was just a day for everyone to let loose and live life before having to go back to Atlesian monotony, which meant everyone was really going to let loose. And thankfully, the next day was also given off so that people could recuperate from the reverie of the previous day. Most citizens were free to spend the two days as they pleased, leaving For the students, a makeshift school dance was in preparation.

A little birdy told Clover that the kids were going, and Qrow would be there as a chaperone. The little birdy also told Clover that Ironwood had to beg Qrow to be a chaperone. Qrow was going to go anyways, but he liked messing around with Ironwood. To Clover, it was a very funny thing to imagine. The only other chaperones were Winter, Robyn, who lost a bet with her sister, and Ironwood himself. Of course, with nothing better to do, Clover volunteered to join the other brave adults who dared to attempt to control a group of teenagers. While many students opted to spend time with their families, some chose to party at their academy. Despite this, the dance would still be a decent size, so Clover’s “sacrifice,” as his team called it, was greatly appreciated by the other adults at the party. Clover didn’t really think of it as such. The way he saw it, it was a way to spend more time with Qrow. Over the months they spent together, Clover had developed a serious crush. It didn’t start out as such, though. Clover remembers the exact moment he realized he had fallen in love with Qrow. It began during their trip back from a supply run where he and Qrow were joined by Jaune and Ren.

“And so, our boy’s night out comes to its end.” Jaune exhaled dejectedly.

“No one said it has to end.” Qrow said with a grin. Jaune’s face immediately lit up.

“You mean ─!” He beamed.

“Well, it is the last mission of the day for all of us, and the sun’s barely setting. If you two,” Qrow said as he referred to Ren and Clover, “don’t have plans, we could have some fun and see where the night takes us.”

“I don't have any important plans, so count me in.” Clover did have a reservation for a training room, but that hardly counted as important compared to living his life and spending time with Qrow and his kids.

“And how about you, Ren? Are you gonna come, or do you have a hot date waiting for you?” Jaune asked as he nudged Ren, alluding to Ren and Nora’s new development in their relationship.

“Actually, kinda. Me and Nora are going to spar later to develop our synergy more.”

“Aww...” Poor Jaune deflated like a balloon.

“Don’t get too sad about it. It’s not like I’d know what to do anyways.” Immediately, the three of them looked at Ren, shock and concern in their eyes.

“Jaune.” Qrow ordered.

“On it.” He said as he pulled out his scroll. A mere moment later, Ren’s scroll rang. Before answering the call, he made sure to keep it a reasonable distance from his ears.

“RENNNN!” Nora’s thunderous voice wailed. In the background, sounds of violence could be heard.

“Yes, Nora?” Ren moved the phone closer to his ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were planning a boys night out?!” The sounds of Yang screaming and grimm dying could be heard as Nora herself grunted in between words.

“It kind of came up just right now.”

“Well ─ Hold on a moment, would you?” From the other side of the line, her warrior’s cry could be heard, followed by the sound of multiple grimm having their armor and bones shattered. “Sorry about that,” she laughed, “but Ren, you should go and have some fun. Besides, we need a break from training. Oh! This gives me an idea! HEY!!! YANG!!!” A distant “what” could be heard. “WANNA HAVE A GIRLS NIGHT!!!” After the sound of a yell and a whimpering grimm, a “sure” was heard. “Nice! Alright, well bye! Love you!!!” Just before the call disconnected, the sound of a structure falling and roaring grimm through were heard.

“Are they ─” Clover looked concerned.

“They’ll be fine.” Ren assured without a drop of worry as he nodded his head. “Well, I guess we should pick up Oscar then.” Picking up Oscar proved to be a wise move. It gave them some time to think about where they could start their night. They were mostly drawing blanks, knowing so little about the area. Qrow mostly just knew about the location of some bars, but those obviously weren’t even going to be considered. So, Qrow asked the local “Lucky Charm” if he knew any good places to begin their night. Lucky for Qrow, he did. However, much to their dismay, Clover decided to keep where they were going a secret, except to Qrow. It made Clover’s heart skip a beat when he saw Qrow’s face lit up. And, needless to say, they all had a fun night. It was the break they needed from all their time working. By the time they got back, they were tired, and the girls were still out, likely having their fun. They said their goodbyes as they parted ways to their respective dorms, Qrow walking with the kids to theirs first. About part of the way to his residence, Clover turned around, deciding that he’d rather spend a bit more time with Qrow rather than just shower and go to sleep. Just before he rounded a corner, he heard Qrow and the kids talking, and stopped. He didn’t want to interrupt. However, despite knowing that he should give them their privacy, he stayed just around the corner, out of sight.

“I guess, what we’re trying to say is, thanks Qrow. We really do appreciate all the stuff you’ve done for us, and we’re proud of you too.” said Ren. Qrow really does have some good kids Clover thought.

“Well, I should thank you kids too. You all helped me a lot too.” To Clover, it sounded like Qrow was on the verge of shedding a tear.

“Group hug?” asked Oscar, opening his arms.

“Group hug.” Qrow replied, opening his arms As they hugged, Clover could hear Jaune sniffling. Clover was undoubtedly happy for Qrow, but in the moment, he could also not help but feel his own loneliness wash over him.

“Alright, that's enough.” Qrow laughed after the hug broke off. “I don’t want you kids making me go soft. I’ve got an image to maintain.” The boys laughed a little. “Welp, we should all go and get some sleep now. Good night kids.” Clover could hear his footsteps as he walked away as he walked away.

“Night Uncle Qrow.” the kids said in unison as they chuckled. Uncle Qrow? That's new. Of course Clover was happy that Qrow had people that cared about him so much, yet, he could also feel his loneliness consuming him even more. Normally, he didn’t mind the loneliness, but knowing that he was missing out on stuff like that always seemed to get him, showing no mercy and going straight for his heart.

“You two can go on without me. I’m gonna go check on Nora. Apparently, their idea of a fun night is a free for all in the training room. They even got Winter and some other students to join. I can only imagine the carnage.” Crap! The way to the large training room they were in involved some backtracking from where they were, which meant Ren was going down the hall and around the corner where Clover was. He had to act natural. He didn’t want it to seem like he was purposely eavesdropping. He heard Jaune and Oscar’s footsteps as they faded away, and Ren’s as they got closer and closer. Just as he was about to make his move, heard Ren speak up.

“I know you’re there.” Bested, he walked out from behind the corner.

“You’re pretty perceptive. I’m impressed.”

“Why were you there?” Ren asked, the question free of any malice. Clover sighed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop or anything. I just decided that I’d rather spend some more time with Qrow, so I came this way to find him, but then I accidentally walked in on your guys’ conversation. Uh, sorry, again.” Clover felt rather embarrassed.

“You didn’t mean any harm. It’s alright. But, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” Oh boy…

“Do you… like Qrow?” Oh, that’s not so bad.

“Of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I mean, do you like like him?” Oh fuck. Clover could feel his face getting hotter as he tried to get out an answer, but ended up stammering. “I’m sorry if I’m just being too straight forward. I know I’m not the best with emotions, so I just want to know if Qrow will be in good hands.” Heh. Qrow doesn’t know how lucky he really is. Well, it’s not luck, its just what he deserves.

“I think...” Clover thinks back on his time with Qrow, from their shared jokes, to seeing him grow to accept himself little by little, and to seeing him adore the kids, and the kids look up to him. “I think I do love him.” He leaned against the wall, coming to terms with the realization.

“Good.” With that, Ren left him to think about his newfound love for Qrow.

Clover knew his days with Qrow were numbered, so he wanted to share as much time with him as possible. Eventually, Qrow and his kids would leave for Vacuo, and he would stay in Atlas, alone once more. So, he looked forward to the day of the dance. He decided that it would be the day he would tell Qrow how he felt. If all went as he hoped, they would share the last dance. Clover was an optimistic, that that didn’t mean he couldn’t be realistic. He still considered the possibility that Qrow could turn him down, for either not feeling that he was ready for a serious relationship, or not reciprocating the feelings. The former, he could live with. It meant he still had a chance and that Qrow probably did like him too. That latter, he feared. If it came to that outcome, he just hoped they could still be friends.

As the days leading up to the dance had come and gone, he began to feel more and more confident. After all, the man flirted back with him all the time, at least, he was very sure it was flirting. Then there was his brief talk with Ren. From what Clover had heard, he didn’t even realize at all that his lifelong friend had a crush on him until she kissed him. Since, he was slowly getting better at understanding emotions. So, if even Ren noticed that Clover had feelings for Qrow, then everyone else definitely knew, which was a bit mortifying to Clover. He didn’t want the cat out of the bag too early. And then there was his response when Clover told him he loved Qrow. Good. Not a You��re wasting your time, or a Qrow deserves better than you, but a simple Good. Ren was an honest and good kid. If he knew either of those things were true, he would have told Clover. He didn’t, and, in a sense, basically told Clover that Qrow liked, even loved, him back. It was also kind of like Ren told him that he approved of him, which made Clover very happy. If he had Ren’s approval, he probably had the approval of the other kids too. The quickest way to know you can have a man’s heart is if his kids approve of you. his father would tell him. If he doesn’t have any kids, then have some kids with him and see if they approve of you. That worked out fine for me. His pa was funny, but Clover knew he had his dad’s sense of humor.

The night of the dance Clover made sure not even a hair was out of place. He also mentally prepared himself for what would transpire. He had no doubt that Qrow would accept his love and the dance now, he just needed to prepare himself. It was a major thing he was doing. After checking his hair one last time, he made his way to the ballroom. Clover was guarding the punch bowl as Qrow arrived with the kids, Ruby eagerly dragging him along. Clover admired the man as he walked in. He was standing tall now, as opposed to the hunched over posture he would hold when he first arrived. And of course, he looked as stunning as ever. Hot, great with kids, amazing personality, and literally one of the best huntsmen to have ever lived. He was the whole package. How could Clover not fall in love with him? Qrow then split from the kids as they went do their own things, and made his way over to Clover.

“Hey there hot stuff.” Clover winked. He poured himself another cup of the punch and took a drink. It tasted all right, but as to be expected of a school dance planned on such short notice.

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself Lucky Charm.”

“Mmm, approval from Remnant’s finest. Lucky me.” Clover smiled as Qrow laughed at his joke. It made him excited for what was to come. As the night progressed, they continued chatting and joking as usual. If anyone asked Clover if he was being more flirty than usual, he would have said yes. Qrow was laughing as he told Clover about what went down in the Girl’s Free For All Night. As Ruby told him, Winter was suspected of helping Weiss, so Yang called her out and they began fighting. Ruby had called out “Big Sister Fight!,” which caught everyone’s attention. Everyone picked a side and began chanting “Big Sister Fight! Big sister Fight!” Upon hearing those words, one of the girls literally threw her own big sister into the mix, who Yang caught and threw at Winter. It was determined a tie, but Qrow was proud nonetheless.

“They grow up so fast.” Qrow said as he wiped away an imaginary tear, making Clover chuckle. “I remember my first fight with Atlas personnel like it was yesterday. It was back when Jimmy first joined Ozpin’s circle. This might come as a surprise to you, but we disagreed on a lot of things.” Qrow joked. “We butted heads a lot more then, so one day, we were both at each other’s necks, and Oz told us to take our problem out to the arena. We did, and I won.” Qrow said proudly.

“I’d LOVE to hear that story.” Clover shouted as he slung his arm around Qrow, his drink sloshing around. His volume caught Qrow a bit off guard, but he didn’t notice. Before he could respond, Yang called for her uncle to join them on the dance floor, wanting to see his “legendary” dance moves. Unsurprisingly, he agreed.

“Wanna show them how it’s done, Boy Scout?” Qrow asked.

“No thanks. *hic* I’m good. We need our forces to be spread out anyways! Can’t let these kids have too much fun, now can we?”

“If you say so.” Qrow shrugged, and went off to put the kids in their place. Clover watched Qrow as he put everyone else to shame with his moves. Every now and then, he would partner up with one of the kids for a real show stopper, leaving them giddy. That went on for about an hour. The man certainly had excellent stamina. At the end of a combo with Nora, she loudly proclaimed him her Uncle Qrow and gave him a tight hug, lifting him off the round, which caused him to beam proudly. Meanwhile, Clover was still standing back, keeping his eyes on Qrow as he drank more of the punch. They all look so happy. Clover smiled. He thought that if, just if, Qrow turned him down later, he wouldn’t mind too much. As long as I can see him happy. It won’t be so bad anyways. I’ve been alone all along anyways. It won’t be so different.

“What’s with the long face?” Clover heard, breaking him free of his thoughts.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.” He didn’t notice that Qrow looked a bit sweaty.

“Are you sure? You don’t seem alright Cloves.”

“I can assure, you, cutie. I am a- *hic* okay.” He stammered out. He moved to lean on the table, but missed it. Fortunately for him, Qrow caught him before he could hit the ground. “Heh, lucky me huh?” Qrow grunted as he picked him up, slinging Clover’s arm over his shoulder.

“Come on Boy Scout, let’s get you back to your place.”

“Shouldn’t you take me out on a date first? Not that I’m gonna complain though.” He winked, but it lacked its usual charm

Weiss!” Qrow shouted. “Get your sister to take care of this punch! Someone spiked it! I’ve got Clover to take care of!” Clover felt his heart drop.

“Will do!”

“Wuh? It’s not spiked! I’ve been watching it like a hawk alll nighT.”

“Someone must have been waiting until you got distracted and did it then.” Qrow wasn’t too surprised. It may have been Atlas, but teens will be teens regardless.

“Well, at least you drank most of it rather than the kids.” Qrow noticed that Clover was still holding onto the cup, which still had some of the alcoholic punch in it. The thought to steal some did not cross his mind. “Here, let me see.” he said, referring to the cup. Clover handed it to him, and he took a sniff. He let out a low whistle. He almost pitied the parent who lost whatever it was the kid dumped in the punch.

“That’s some strong stuff.” he said as he tossed it into a trash can. However a sniffling Clover quickly caught his attention.

“Hey, hey, no need to cry. You're fine.” He cooed softly as he wiped away a tear.

“*sniff* I know, I only *hic* only wanted yOu to have a good night. And now? *sniff*You─ you’ve got to take care of me. Some, sad and lonely guy, who got drunk around the─ the amazing guY, who gave up alcohol *sniff* cold turkey! for his kids! *hic*”

“Hey! Don't blame yourself. It was an accident. I know you wouldn’t do that to me.” Mentally, Qrow noted to really thank Tai for dealing with his drunkenness for so long. “And if it helps you, I’m grateful that I can at least use my experience being drunk to help you out. It’s nice to know I can use it for something good.” Clover looked up at Qrow. Only he could look divine in the unflattering cold lights of Atlas.

“Thankss Qrow. Means a lot to me.” Clover began to lean on him more, drowsiness evidently kicking in.

“Well, what are friends for?”

“Yeah… Friends...” Qrow found the sad face he made perplexing. He just chalked it up to the drunkenness. He didn’t want to get his hopes up. They continued the rest of their walk in silence until they reached Clover’s room. By then, he was carrying Clover bridal style as he was too drowsy to walk, even with Qrow’s support. He was obviously trying to keep himself awake.

“Here we are Cloves.” He got out Clover’s keys, which asked for earlier, and opened the door and walked over to his bed. Clover weakly resisted and murmured, wanting to stay in Qrow’s arms, as he set him down onto his side. After making sure he wouldn’t roll over, he gathered a glass of water and the small trash can that was in the restroom. A side effect of the magic enacted upon him was slightly enhanced night vision, which allowed him to see well enough in the darkness of the room. He could have turned on the lights, but he wanted Clover to be comfortable as much as possible. Placing the trash can by the bed, he gently shook Clover. “Hey, Clover.” It took a moment, but he soon opened his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Here.” he said, turning on the desk lamp so he could see the water being handed to him. “So you don’t get dehydrated.”

“Thanks.” Clover sat up and downed half of the glass before setting it down on the nightstand. He went back to laying down on his bed. With that, Qrow turned the light off and sat next to the bed on the floor so he could keep Clover in his view. Qrow was beginning to feel a bit tired as well.

“Get some rest now Lucky Charm. I’ll be here if you need me. Good night.”

“Good night. I love you.”

“Love you too Cloves.” Let’s see if you’ll still love me tomorrow. Clover thought, just before drifting into sleep. Mid-yawn, he realized what they had just said to each other. He looked at Clover to see his reaction, but he was out cold. Qrow wasn’t exactly sure why he said it. It just felt like the natural thing to say. And there goes my sleep. Qrow thought. Sitting there, he wondered if Clover truly meant it. He had been harboring a crush on him for sometime now. He just hadn’t acted upon it. He wasn’t sure how to. His formative years left little room for a serious relationship, and definitely hadn’t taught him to think he was even worthy of love. As a result, his adult years were mostly spent drunk, leaving him still unable to love in such a way, and think he was worthy of such love. Only recently did that change. However, that didn’t mean he would know how to convey those feelings as he would have liked to. Against the odds, he fell asleep in about an hour, still thinking about those few words, and daring to hope they would ring true in the morning. Clover only woke up once, just to drink more water and to go to the restroom. With the alcohol still in his system, Qrow helped him move around. Clover didn’t say anything. Qrow only kept thinking about those words, kept daring to hope.

Come the morning sun, Qrow found himself to be the first to wake. Knowing firsthand what it was like to wake up with a nasty hangover, Qrow went into the small kitchen to see what he could find some eggs and orange juice. He found some eggs, but no juice. He went to check on Clover before texting Ruby to see if she could bring some orange juice from the cafeteria, telling her to take her time since he was still asleep. He was still sound asleep. He got out a frying pan and made some eggs, periodically checking in on Clover. The time tested hangover cure usually involved raw eggs and orange juice, but he didn’t want to risk salmonella, and had the time to cook the eggs anyways. As he was searching the cupboards for pain relief / fever medicine, he heard a groaning, hungover Clover with messy hair walk into the kitchen.

“Ughhh, what happened last night?” he asked as he rubbed his temples.

“You accidentally got drunk off of some spike punch.”

“I what?” Clover asked quickly, eyes wide from shock.

“If it’s any consolation, it was some strong stuff they snuck in.” He looks adorable when he’s surprised.

“Oh my gods, Qrow, I am so sorry. I─”

“Calm down Lucky Charm, it’s no big deal. You didn’t mean to get drunk or anything. I will say that you’re pretty lucky that I know a lot about being drunk.” Qrow teased with a smirk. The familiarity of their joking nature with each other helped calm Clover down. “Here. You’ll want this stuff.” He set down a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of water, along with a pain relief pill to help with the headache. If anyone were to just walk in on Qrow setting down the food with a soft smile and Clover returning the smile, they would have thought it domestic. This did not evade Qrow and Clover’s minds.

It’s like we’re actually dating.

“Thank’s Qrow. Let me just brush my teeth first.”

“No problem. You’d do the same for me, and smart move.” Meanwhile, Qrow thought about last night. “Say, do you... remember anything from last night?” Qrow asked once Clover returned, as he made some food for himself. For a moment, he tried to remember as far back into the night as he could.

“Last thing I can recall is when you went to dance with kids.” he replied before taking another bite of the food. Except for a dream where I told you I loved you, and you told me that you loved me back.

“I imagined as much. At least you didn’t throw up. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“It’s probably because of the pretty good luck charm in front of me.”

“Careful Boy Scout. Keep talking like that, and I just might have to stay the night.” With a single wink, Qrow made Clover’s heart skip a beat. “You know, to make sure the alcohol is out of your system.”

“Yeah, of course...” Clover hid his sadness well. Figures. However, he couldn’t see the blush that was spreading across Qrow’s face. A knock on the door knocked Clover out of his sad state. “I got it.”

“It should be Ruby.” Qrow told him. “I asked her to bring some orange juice. It’ll help with your hangover.”

“Uncle Qrow!” Ruby exclaimed as she zoomed into the room, latching onto the person who opened the door. She quickly noticed that the man she tackled was, in fact, not her Uncle Qrow.

“Whoops, eh he. Not Uncle Qrow. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright Ruby. I’d have to be pretty used to being knocked around by now anyways.” He chuckled.

“You really should be more careful Ruby. He might have a headache.” Weiss said as she peaked around the corner, trying to keep her voice low. He didn’t expect her to be here, or the rest of her team.

“Lucky for me, I don’t. Your Uncle here’s been taking good care of me.” He said as Ruby helped him up

“Oh, good. I hope you don’t mind if the rest of us then.” Nora said as she peaked through the door. Clover laughed at the small surprise.

“Nope. The more the merrier, they say. But, uh, sorry it's a bit cramped. This place wasn’t made with so many people in mind.” Clover rubbed the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed. His place wasn’t messy or anything, he was just surprised that all the kids came along.

“It’s nice to hear that you’re holding up well.” Ren said as he walked in, hiving Clover a quick but knowing glance.

“Had a real doozy, huh?” Oscar asked.

“And you should have seen Yang. She went around with Winter to interrogate everyone, trying to find out who spiked the punch.” Blake told him.

“We’ll find ‘em soon enough.” Yang said as she pounded a fist into her palm, causing Blake to laugh.

“I’m sure you and Ice Queen will bring our Boy Scout’s perpetrator to justice, Firecracker. Just don’t go too hard on them though, we need ‘em alive.”

“No promises.” They all laughed. Clover didn’t doubt that she would be merciful, or that Winter would either.

“You kids ate, right?” Qrow asked.

“Yes Uncle Qrow, we ate. We’re not little kids. We can feed ourselves, you know.” Ruby told him.

“Looks like your Uncle Qrow might actually be a Mother Hen.” The kids laughed.

“Clover! You’re supposed to be on my side!” Qrow said as he tried to hold back his laugh, but he could not hide his smile.

“Which reminds me, here’s the juice Qrow requested for you.” Ren placed the bottle on the table beside his plate.

“Thanks Ren.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied with a smile.

“Even if you think you feel better, you should still drink some.”

“I will, my knight in shining armor.” After taking a drink, he did feel better than before. A he put the bottle down. The kids were chatting in the background as Qrow sat across from him, his back towards the kids. He could see Ren, towards the back, motioning him to look at the bottle of orange juice. After briefly scanning it, he noticed the phrase “Tell him!” written discreetly on it. He could feel the temperature rising in his face. Qrow was quick to notice.

“You good Lucky Charm? Looks like your fever might be stronger than I thought.” Qrow moved his hand to feel Clover’s forehead, which only made him feel even warmer. “Here.” He said, offering a cold glass of water and some more medicine.

“It’s─ it’s not that.” His heart told him to stop, that he would be fine if he didn’t tell Qrow, that it wouldn’t be able to take it if Qrow rejected him. His mind told him to tell Qrow, that the kids cared for him, that Qrow cared for him, and that his heart would thank him later.

“”Everyone. I have something to say.” He said as he stood up from his chair. All eyes were on him. He took in a deep breath to calm himself. “Qrow, I...” All the way in the back, Ren was giving him a thumbs up. “I love you.”

“I had a feeling you did.”

“Huh?”

“You told me last night.” Okay, so that wasn’t a dream. That means... Qrow got up from his seat and moved closer to Clover. “I could tell you what I told you” Qrow teased, a blush spreading across his face, “but I’ll do you one better.” Slowly, he closed the distance between them, bringing their lips closer and closer. Once their lips touched, nothing else seemed to matter in the world at that moment, not Atlas, not the grimm, and not Salem. As they parted, Clover wished they could continue. “I love you too Clover.” Qrow pulled him in for a soft embrace. Somehow, it meant more than the kiss. He felt even more people joining in on the hug. He opened his eyes to see that all the kids had joined in. He noticed that he was crying. However, it was not from sadness. Clover just knew that it felt right, knew that he wouldn’t be alone anymore, and knew that he was loved.

#Fair Game #fairgameweek2020 #qrow branwen #Clover Ebi

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moonsandstar-s · 5 years

Text

for the first time.

[a post-battle heart-to-heart between the shadow that stopped running from the light and the sun that stopped being afraid to shine in the dark.] "It's over," Yang says, the words delivered like a promise. "You and me, we made it out." Blake's stuck on the gorgeous view outside the airship's window, words blooming and dying just as quick in her mouth. Somewhere outside of her chest, her heart beats a half-remembered song, flying fathoms above the white-capped ocean, suspended miles below the moon, learning what it's like to be winged again. "This is what freedom feels like," she tells Yang, believing, for the first time, that it's true.

read on the archive / other works [for the first time by the script leaves my heart half-broken and half-healed each time i listen to it. & many blessings to the devil/angel erin @twelveclara who is. the. best. editor. in. the. universe.]

Seven years since that story began. Two years, three months, seven days since it swerved off-course. A train uncoupling and sending the world flying away with it. Two years and six days. A candelabra extinguishes in the dark; she’s never known how to read the language of her life. Now she watches the treeline by the ocean skip past the fogged-up airship window and tries to breathe without fear hissing down her neck for the first time since she was twelve years old. Blake’s cross-legged on the floor in the cargo-hold of the airship, freezing her ass off because her coat is history. Her heels lie abandoned off to the side, feet sore and aching from the heat of the battle. It’s just her and the grumble of the engine and too much to be remembered. Sometimes, it’s really nice to ditch the brave-face. In the weak winter light that filters through the vents, she can’t stop staring at her hands, stained with the color of a sword that must be halfway to the ocean right now, slowly drying to rust on her shaking fingers. She scrubbed off most of the the blood an hour ago, the cleansing waterfall mist beading like crystals on her knuckles, but minuscule reminders are still trapped beneath her nails, embedded in her skin. She sits and aches and agonizes like a blocked-up dam. Feeling untethered. Gravity suspended. Every blink sends her vision reeling back like a video that can’t properly load, spurts and flashes of a winter sky, perfect and blue as a mirror, Wilt curling through the air, the icy mist flurrying from the thunder of the falls, Yang’s eyes like the dangerous dawn sky before a storm, Adam’s; like oceans, like ice. So much red and so much blue and nothing between. She is drowning in the fire, her battered body remembering it all, her cheekbone still sore, her abdomen whispering of today and a ghostly night months and months ago. She’s not reliving it anymore, but she still remembers. And it’s the memories that hurt more than the leftover wounds. She’s in her body still when the past comes knocking on her door, but it’s like a spectator sport, almost, a shadow-clone that can take the blame, a shadow of herself, picking up that broken blade as Adam lunges, because it’s not her that lunges for Gambol Shroud. It’s not her that kills Adam. But it is. Every time. She’s the catalyst; she’s the broken balance. Her hands slipping against the too-hot blood that slicks the weapon’s hilt. Her body electric with the memory of the metal grinding up against his ribcage; her shaking fist bumping up against his broken chest. Adam, staggering, stopping, falling out of sight: she kills him, every time. No other choice to make. And no choice but to watch the summary of a whole life vanish in between one heartbeat and the next.

These memories are hers and this will take some days, she thinks, undoing him from her world. She’s never known a life without Adam, never known a heart that doesn’t jackhammer out of her chest when he’s close, but she’s coming to understand this life. Coming to learn how to paint new colors over the stain of his soul on her skin, lilacs and golds and whites. Trying to remember how an artist creates instead of destroys.

“Blake,” says a voice from the doorway. Blake looks up and sees the sun. “Oh,” she says. “Hey.”

“You’re shivering. Are you cold?” Blake presses her knuckles against the ridge of her brow. “Yeah. My coat’s probably blown halfway across Argus by now,” she says ruefully. “Maybe Cordovin will use it as white flag to plead for Ironwood’s mercy, do you think?” “When hell freezes over,” Yang says sincerely, still hovering on the threshold. In her hands she’s clutching a blanket, fingers knotting nonsensical patterns in the corners. “Can I come in?”

Blake inclines her head. “Please.” Yang’s steps are light, but there’s a gravity there that’s not familiar, each movement measured, exact. She pauses in front of Blake only to offer her the blanket, which she gratefully accepts, before circling around to her side and sitting close enough that Blake can smell the faintest scent of old smoke, close enough to see the faintest shadow of a bruise threatening her cheek. Yang hooks Blake in closer with her arm, the weight a warmth over her shivering shoulders, and Blake welcomes the respite she provides from the cold. “Bad news about this whole Ironwood-swooping-in-to-save-the-day ordeal,” Yang says suddenly, “is that he’s bound to notice I’ve banged up his gift to me.” She laughs, a low sound like the purr of the engine, as she walks the metal tips of her fingers across Blake’s wrist. “Charity has its limits, especially for boneheaded military commanders. I think he’ll be pissed.”

“Let me see it,” Blake says. Obligingly, Yang rests the prosthetic across Blake’s lap, and she stiffens at the traces of rust-red on the fingers and joints. The past that won’t be washed away just yet. Happiness has a cost and it’s remembrance of what you did to get there. Some shadow stirs behind Yang’s eyes, but all she says is, “I couldn’t get all of it off, either.”

Blake’s fingers explore the ridges of singed metal, goosebumps exploding up and down her forearms. The prosthetic’s side panel is destroyed, steel curling and charred from the heat of Adam’s charge, exposing a fine meshing of wires and chambers on the inside. It’s a tangle of intricate clockwork, each gear blackened but unbroken. The damage is undeniable, but it’s still functioning as well as it ever has. “I’m thinking of installing a new panel,” Yang continues, frowning slightly at the charred gashes. “Battle wounds are overrated, and this just looks cheap. Do you think Atlas shops carry purple spray-paint?” “Purple?” Blake grins. “Why not yellow again?” “Complimentary,” Yang retorts. “You look good on me, you know.” She runs a considering finger down Blake’s arm, brow knitted. “Maybe we should get you something gold once we get there. A new coat, maybe, to keep you warm.” “You keep me warm enough without having to waste lien on some ornate Atlas frippery.” Blake pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders and curls closer towards Yang. “If a space heater and the sun had a kid, you’d be that kid.” Yang returns the smile before it sloughs away, a solemn lilt entering her voice. “The others were asking about you, earlier. Wondering where you were. They asked what happened up at the comms tower that kept you from responding to Jaune’s signal.”

Blake wonders if one day she’ll be able to take the mention of it without seizing up, but today it’s fresh, closer than her own skin, suffocating her. “What did you say?”

Yang breathes out, golden strands of hair fluttering in the slipstream, and despite her misgivings Blake’s still caught up in fascination at the sight of her, of all these little details; a precious thing lost and found and then almost destroyed again. They’re not whole, but they’re getting there. “I didn’t have to. Weiss told Jaune to bug off, Ruby jumped in to stop them fighting, and I took the chance to come and find you.” Yang shifts, pulls Blake a little closer against her side. “It’s crazy, after everything, and that huge fight with the mech, they’re all happy that we’re all okay and celebrating together because we’re finally on the way to Atlas - after everything we went through - I just can’t get into celebrating. I just wanted to be with you.” Blake feels like a storm run out of rain, charged and boiling with nothing left to give. The clouds won’t subside and there’s no lightning left to strike. Just the wet pavement and the heavy, heavy sky. Yang makes a small noise of alarm and Blake realizes she’s digging her fingers into her arm hard enough to draw blood, her knuckles bloodless-white. Gently, Yang reaches over and squeezes Blake’s vice-like grip until it slackens, delicate as a bird broken on the ground. “Oh, baby,” she says, so softly, her voice aching. “It’s okay. We’re still here. We’re going to be alright.” “He’s gone,” Blake whispers, head falling against her knees. Her eyes burn, but no tears are forthcoming; in that spinning, stretching silence, she’s infinite. She’s run through the uncertainty and fury and sorrow and resignation over and over and now they feel like something tired, an obligatory pain that no longer hurts. But looking out the window at the dull white light reflecting off the snow-choked sea, the gulls crying out as they climb higher into the beautifully empty blue sky, the high whistle of the wind as it runs over the surging waves below them, she finds her heart twisting in her chest with something new. In the center of her soul, some unbreakable cord, stretched tight enough to strangle for seven years, unraveled at the last, and the newfound freedom feels like falling foot-first into the sky.

“I feel empty,” she gets out. “I should feel relieved. I should be happy. I just feel… nothing.” She swallows around the lump in her throat. “I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted… I wanted...” Her voice shatters, and she goes with it. Yang’s fingers tighten on her shoulder, clinging as desperately as Blake clung to the slick stone on the waterfall bridge. For fighting on. For life itself. “You didn’t want to kill him, Blake. I didn’t want to. He didn’t give us any other choice but to choose the worst option.” She splays her prosthetic hand wide before the two of them, shining in the dim light. “It’s easier for me to believe I was trying to kill him during the whole fight, but I wasn’t, and neither were you, and I can’t lie to myself. Even if he was throwing his best into cutting us down. We just wanted him to give up and leave us alone. I just wanted… I don’t know.” She laughs, a helpless, choked little sound. “I wanted for him not to have happened to you. To us. Or I guess for him to just… realize he couldn’t make you love him again.” For him to realize a heart can find another home, Blake thinks, but Yang’s still going on, her voice more distant than the mountains touching the shallow sky. “I thought… when he lunged at you… when he tried to grab that blade before you did, that I was going to lose you again if I didn’t do what I wasn’t strong enough to do back at Beacon. I knew there was no going back from that split-second, you knew it, and he must have, too. And we ended him so he wouldn’t end us. I just… sometimes you’re defined in a moment by the choices you make in a heartbeat. The choices where you have to be yourself without thinking about it at all. And we chose to survive.” Her eyes burn like an oath in the dusky light. “And that’s okay.” “A choice.” A sob extinguishes itself in Blake’s throat. She’s had an armful of choices, of decisions, of vows, kept close to her chest for her entire life. She should hate that in the moment it mattered most, only one promise was not worth her own death, but worth the death of someone who was once worth every choice in the world. “I never wanted anyone to die. I never...”

Yang stares hard at the flaking blood trapped on their hands, both of their hands. “Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll feel real, you know? That he’s dead. That we don’t have to be scared anymore. We’ve killed hundreds of Grimm, and I don’t think that’s the hang-up - taking someone else’s life. Killing is just another part of what we do. It’s defense. Against evil and hatred. And we were just acting in defense. But I understand, I do. It’s like you’ve lived in the same room as a ghost for all of your life and you’ve only ever seen the pieces of your life shift around from the influence of this thing that you can’t even see, but you know it’s there, it exists.” Yang shakes her head, frustrated. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that… you can’t feel bad because you chose us, Blake. For choosing yourself. You can’t blame yourself for wanting happiness over wanting forgiveness for someone who never deserved it. ”

“I spent so much time in the shadows because Adam always made me feel like that’s where I belonged,” Blake chokes out. “I don’t know what else to believe now that he’s gone.” Yang traps a lock of Blake’s hair between her thumb and index finger, tucks it behind her ear. She leans in and presses lingering lips between Blake’s brows, her breath slow and stuttering, the kiss a thing gentler than snow against the sea. “I know, Blake,” she whispers. “But the shadows are just shadows. They’re not you.” Blake closes her eyes, giving herself over to the singing rush that dances through her head at Yang’s touch, like sunlight glancing off a stream, dispelling the shadows bearing Adam’s blue eyes. Louder than a shout in the dark. The thing that makes the scars seem smaller. It slept dormant ever since she ran from Beacon all those months ago, but she’s been relearning it day by day. It’s Yang’s presence, Blake thinks, the inexplicable ways she makes tomorrow not seem like such a scary thing. Her resolve and her grin and her fierce devotion. Something about Yang makes her fall in love with summertime all over again. “Thank you,” Blake breathes. Yang pulls back by degrees, still kneeling inches from Blake’s nose. Foreheads almost touching, but not quite. Her calloused hands rest on Blake’s knees, the distance between them so close, much too far. Blake can see new details, freed from the weeping that prevented it before: the dusting of freckles across the bridge of Yang’s nose, the tilt of confusion in her lips, the way the winter ocean reflects gray in her eyes. “For what?” Blake surrenders to the impulse she’s had since the train’s journey to Argus, since since the afternoon falling gold through the windows, since Yang; she brings a hand up to cup her jaw, but Yang doesn’t need the encouragement; she leans in, meeting Blake halfway through, their kiss softer than sunlight. It’s brief; Blake knows this because her heart crashes like thunder in her ears, she tastes salt and smoke and something sweet, and then the crash subsides and they’ve broken apart, foreheads still leaned against one another. Time steps to the sidelines and leaves only this: the purr of the engine, the distant song of the ocean, two mismatched heartbeats finding solace in the stillness, after everything. “For loving me,” Blake says. Yang’s eyes blaze and she closes the distance between their lips again, her kiss hungry now, seeking, hands sliding up from Blake’s knees and drawing her in, close, closer. Her thumb, patterning out slow circles, finds the ridged rise of the scar and stays there, the contact sending lightning strikes down Blake’s spine. Where Adam’s touch brought fire, fury, Yang’s brings warmth - just warmth. Just safety. Her touch says home.

“Don’t thank me like it’s some big thing,” she murmurs against her lips. “Way too much credit. Loving you comes easy.” Blake leans back a little, runs a finger down the side of Yang’s face, lost in what she sees there; the hectic flush on her cheeks, the glisten of her lips. Now that she’s kissed Yang already, the impulse hasn’t died down; if anything, it’s stronger than it ever was. She just wants to breathe her in and never stop. “You make me start to believe in that again.” Yang breaks away, sitting back on her knees. She reaches out to wind a loop of Blake’s hair around her thumb, nibbling her lip. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you here.” She lets the curl spring free, a nervous grin flitting across her face. “I know I wing, like, everything, but I don’t wanna wing this. I want it to be, like…. I want great. I want us to be great. I just… is there a way to do this proper, or do I just…” She gestures expansively, suddenly pensive. “Ask you flat-out?”

Blake leans in and plants a swift kiss on her lips, searing like flame. It’s addictive already. Brew happiness and bottle it; that’s kissing Yang. “That depends,” she says, mock-sweetly, folding her hands atop her knees. “What is it that you want to ask me?” Yang socks her in the leg, laughing loud. “Blake Belladonna.” Blake mimics her irritation by folding her arms. “Yang Xiao Long.” Her laugh subsides into a lopsided, flush-cheeked grin, lighting her expression from the inside-out. “Okay,” she says. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She clears her throat and leans forward, the intensity in her eyes taking Blake aback. “I’ll tell you that you’re my better half. That you make me happy. You make the moon shine twice as bright in a night sky. When you’re in the room with me, you’re who I wanna be around. When you leave it, I miss you. I wonder when you’re coming back and if it can be sooner than it already is, because when you’re with me I’m at home. In a fight, there’s no one else I trust more at my back. You’re who I want to talk to, who I want to share my secrets with, who I want to make smile. When you’re here, the sun shines. When you’re gone, everything is grey.” Yang’s smile has died down under the weight of her words, but it’s still there, flickering in her face, at the edges of her lips. But it’s earnestness, more than anything, knitting her brows and shining in her eyes. “I’m tired of only you and then just me. I think we work better as an us.” She catches Blake’s hand, hugs it between her own, warm skin and cold metal, and brings it close to her chest. “What do you think?” “Girlfriend,” Blake says, unable to force back the smile threatening to spread over her face, “the word you’re looking for is girlfriend, Yang.” “Ass. You could’ve just said yes or no.” Yang brings Blake’s hand to her mouth, her breath ghosting against her knuckles as she huffs out a laugh. “I was trying to do some profound speech, to be all - poetic and poignant and shit, like you, and you’ve gone and made it seem all - ”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It was a beautiful speech. I loved it.” Blake’s laughing and she wishes she could bottle up the feeling flooding through her veins at that moment; it’s the antonym of Adam, the antonym of every thought that’s anchored her to the belief that she’ll never discover light again. Maybe love, maybe joy. Maybe a combination. It’s a glow with Yang’s name written all over it. “Okay, here’s what I think: I think that the best thing fate ever did for me was pushing you to come talk to me in the ballroom two years ago,” she says. “I think the best thing I ever did for myself was choose you. And I think - ”

She’s interrupted by Yang leaning in and kissing her, smolderingly, achingly slow, but it’s hardly an interruption she protests. Anyways, it’s a spectacular exercise in self-control, Blake thinks, breaking away from it to manage on a choppy, breathless breath, “Yes.”

“Huh?” Yang wrinkles her nose in an adorable confusion and Blake can’t resist the swelling of her heart.

“Yes,” she repeats. “I’ll be your girlfriend.” “Oh,” Yang says, and then the smile that bursts across her face has nothing on the weak winter sun struggling through the clouds. “Come on, don’t sound so smug. Like you were ever gonna dream of saying no to all of this in a million years - ”

“I don’t regard myself as being incredibly stupid, so, no,” Blake admits. “But don’t get too cocky with yourself. We’ve still got a long way to go with each other.”

“Noted,” Yang says, and then: “Just think how disappointed Ilia and Sun are gonna be when you see them again, though!” “Why?” “You’ve been on the make-it-to-Atlas-or-bust mission for only six days,” she exclaims, “and you’re already hitched.” “We’re not married, Yang.” “Maybe not,” Yang announces, “but I’ve got plans, great plans.” She leans in, her prosthetic stroking across Blake’s stomach, erasing the pain of the scars, the nights of lonely uncertainty, promising something new, light, together. “And we’re gonna be together in every single one of them. That’s a promise.” “A promise,” Blake whispers, daring to believe it, surprised to find that the belief comes easy. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” She leans in, then, presses a kiss to Yang’s temple, her lips lingering close to the warmth. Yang’s hand tightens wordlessly on her own. The silence fallen between them is close, but it’s comforting, like a friend long-lost and then returned in the aftermath of chaos. Blake thinks it might be restoration. The thing that makes fault lines shift back together again. Outside the airship window, the sun finally breaches the gray bank of clouds, shining against the sea like a beacon.

#bumbleby #RWBY #Blake Belladonna #Yang Xiao Long #Bumblebee #RWBY V6 #RWBY 6 #RWBY Volume 6

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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

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RWBY Musings #72: A Farm Boy and his Bot. What if…Oscar gains his very own robot companion for the Atlas Arc?

So lately, I’m beginning to adore the concept of Oscar eventually gaining some kind of magical or rather unusual companion inspired by another known character from the Wizard of Oz. In my last musing post, I mentioned Oscar assuming control of Salem’s winged Beringels so that he may control them as the RWBY-verse’s equivalent of the Golden Cap.

Now I’m here to present another Oz-inspired possibility. What if…while in Atlas, Oscar either builds and/or gains the friendship of an Atlesian robot and this character will draw reference from the Oz character: Jack Pumpkinhead.

Oscar’s Robot

For those of you who might not know:

According to Wikipedia, in the second Oz book, the Marvellous Land of Oz, Jack Pumpkinhead is an animated homunculus. Jack is described as being incredibly tall with a skinny figure made from tree limbs and jointed with wooden pegs. He has a large carved jack-o’-lantern for a head which is where his name is derived from. Although, unlike most jack-o-lanterns, the seeds and other pumpkin guts were not removed from Jack so it substitutes for his brain.

Jack was originally made by a little boy named Tip (the male persona of Princess Ozma before she ultimately regained her true form) to scare his guardian, an old witch named Mombi. When Mombi saw Jack, she nearly smashed him to pieces but instead, decided to test out her new Powder of Life on him. The powder worked and made Jack come to life.

Jack has been noted to not be known for his intelligence which varies depending on the quality and number of seeds in his pumpkin-head at the time. Despite this, Jack manages to come up with random bits of wisdom and common sense often. That is the character of Jack Pumpkinhead.

As we know, Oscar Pine is alluded to Princess Ozma. Since Ozma is the original creator and parent of Jack Pumpkinhead, what if…Oscar will build his own Pumpkinhead in reference to how Tip made Jack Pumpkinhead or…perhaps Pumpkinhead is an Atlas Academy practice droid designed by Atlas for its students to gain hands on training during their combat simulation drills by fighting sentient machines

Perhaps…Pumpkinhead was an out-dated model that the school failed to maintain over the years. The bot had taken so many hits that it was due for decommissioning before being sent on its way to the junkyard scrap heap to be salvaged for it parts along with the others in its outdated series since Atlas was due to upgrade to newer, more efficient models in coming time.

Or…at least that was the plan before Oscar more or less rescues (technically steals) the machine---keeping it stored away where he and the other heroes were housed in Atlas---a full house suite organized for them courtesy of Winter Schnee and the General and overseen by Weiss who basically acts as landlady making sure nobody wrecks the place her sister generously helped organize for them. So Oscar keeps Pumpkinhead secured in his room while doing his best to repair the bot piece by piece with as limited resources as he had on his own time.

At first the former farm hand kept Pumpkinhead a secret away from the other heroes. But ultimately Oscar had no choice but to come clean about the tall, pumpkin-headed secret he’s been hoarding in his bedroom.

I’m kind of amused at the idea of Oscar being the type to pick up a stray robot without question. I think if done in the canon it could be a reference to Oz while providing a call back to Fullmetal Alchemist. After all, in FMA, Oscar’s VA--Aaron Dismuke played Alphonse Elricand us ole school FMA fans know how Alphonse was notorious for picking up stray cats.

Picture…Oscar pulling an Alphonse just with picking up a stray sentient robot he was trying to patch-up. One of my favourite Pinehead headcanons is that Oscar has a natural born talent for mechanical engineering as a testament to his upbringing back on his family farm.

In the V6 opening, Oscar could be spotted reading an Atlas Mechanics magazine during his shot with JNR and Qrow. A throwaway detail or conceivably a foreshadowing nod to what’s to be seen of this farm boy’s hidden talents during the Atlas Arc?

I’d absolutely love it if Oscar is good at repairing machinery with robots being no exception. I think that could be a really interesting skill for him to have. Plus picture the look on everyone’s faces to learn that our veteran farm boy’s got a knack for tinkering with them mechanical thingamabobbles and gadgets.

Remember how back in V2, Ruby snuck Zwei onto Team RWBY’s off-campus field trip to Mountain Glenn with Oobleck and we got that funny bit where Oobleck calls Ruby out only for Zwei to unceremoniously pop out of Ruby’s backpack; barking defiantly at her when she hisses for him to get back in the bag.

RWBY Squiggle Script #016: Pumpkinhead

Picture it. A similar scenario like that with Oscar where an online, Pumpkinhead is unceremoniously uncovered in Oscar’s bedroom closet and the farm boy is awkwardly put on the spot to explain himself; all the while standing between his profoundly stupefied comrades and teammates (at least Jaune, Nora, Ruby and Weiss for the sake of this scene. Let’s say the others were away on other errands or something) and a spooked Pumpkinhead who sat curled up in a ball behind Oscar, frightened by the unfamiliar non-Oscar faces.

Jaune: ….Oscar, is that a… 8ft robot standing in your bedroom?

Oscar: Actually he’s 7ft 11 inches tall to be exact. But…yeah…it’s---it’s a robot.

Jaune: Okay, let me try asking again. Oscar, why is there a 7ft 11 inches tall robot in your bedroom?

Oscar: *chuckling nervously with a shrug* Would you believe me if I said he followed me home?

Weiss: *incredulously* Oscar, be serious. Did you steal that Atlesian Practice droid?

Oscar: *awkward laughing intensifies* Psssh no, of course not. I told you. He followed me...sort of. Look I’ll explain everything just promise me you won’t freak out if I tell you.

Despite their equally doubting expressions, the others settled down to listen to Oscar’s explanation.

Oscar: It started a while back. It was the first Battle Sim class for us first years and our professor wanted us to practice combat against a moving target. For that class we were each paired up with a practice droid to spar with. I got this fella. *pats Pumpkinhead* For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to…hurt him. The minute I raised my weapon, he just looked at me and curled up all frightened and shaken. I know that sounds really, really crazy but… it did happen. Even my teacher took notice and started yelling at me to take it down. Show no mercy against the enemy, he said. Even if that enemy is a defenceless practice droid who was more scared of you and…refused to fight. So naturally, I refused to fight too.

I won’t attack an opponent who isn’t trying to harm me. So I ended up not fighting at all and…as you’d expect, the teacher sent me straight to Ironwood.

Jaune: *incredulously* So that’s why you were in trouble before? For refusing to beat up one practice droid?

Oscar: *nods* Yeah. Turns out you can get a full month’s detention for anything at Atlas Academy. As punishment, I was put in charge of helping with droid maintenance. The robo-tech guy supervising me is a real piece of work, to say the least, but other than that, it wasn’t half bad. I didn’t mind looking after the droids. From there, I noticed this guy following me around a lot. Even when he was supposed to be offline, everywhere I turned, he was there just…staring at me. I guess you could say he took a weird shine to me after our forfeit fight. It was really weird and really uncomfortable, at first.

But after a while I got use to the stares and actually started to appreciate the company. *chuckles* You can say he’s been my fateful companion during the more boring detention days and he’s a surprisingly good listener. Doesn’t say much…or…do much except stare but I think we became friends.

Weiss: *dubiously*…You befriended…a robot?

Oscar: *defensively* It can happen.

Ruby: He’s right. It can.

Weiss: *exasperated* Please don’t encourage him.

Nora: Can you guys quit interrupting? I wanna know what happens next? Go on Oscar.

Oscar: *frowning* Well…what happened next is actually the worst part. One detention, I didn’t find him with the other bods. Some first years from my class had rented him out for some extracurricular target practice.

Ruby: What… happened?

Oscar: *exasperated; fist clenching* What’d you think? They broke him! Wrecked him up really bad. Students are allowed to fight the droids after school but these students overdid it. And what’s worst is that after they were done, they just…left him. The robo-tech will clean up the mess for us, they said. They didn’t even bother returning him. Just left him in pieces. I tried to tell them off but I was useless. They just pushed me aside.

Nora: *annoyed* Please tell me you reported those jerks!

Ruby: Did you tell someone? Ironwood? The robo-tech?

Oscar: I tried but…it just made things worse. I told the robo-tech about what happened but… he didn’t care. I asked him if he could repair him but he said… *scoffs* He said fixing damaged goods isn’t in his payroll. It’s not in his job requirements to fix the bots, he’s just supposed to polish them up and make them look pretty. Who cares if a couple of them get ruined in a few rough sparring matches? Atlas’ got the funds so why bother fixing the broken bots when they could just as easily replace them with newer models. If I had left him as is, he would’ve been scrapped! I…couldn't just…leave him like that. I had to do something so…

Ruby: …So…you saved him?

Weiss: He stole it!

Oscar: I…*head handing guiltily* Yeah, I stole him, yes.

Weiss: I can’t believe it. We’ve been hoarding a felon.

Ruby: Weiss, quit being so overdramatic.

Weiss: I am not!

Nora: So…exactly how long have you been hiding this bot here under our noses?

Oscar: Let’s see, one…two weeks so probably…about a month.

Groans all around, the most audible being Weiss’. Ruby being Ruby appeared more sympathetic.

Ruby: Well… he seems to be up and running now. Why didn’t you try taking him back to the school again?

Oscar: He’s not completely fixed yet. There’s still more work to be done but I can only do some much with such little tools and with such a little workspace. Besides I already tried that but...he won't let me. I think he's too scared to go back there after what those kids did to him.

Weiss: He’s scared? He's a machine!

Ruby: Weiss, even machines can have feelings too.

Weiss: But---

Oscar: *wearily* Do you guys mind lowering your voices please? He doesn't like it when you yell. He hates loud noises.

At this, Oscar gently pats the tall robot behind him.

Oscar: It's okay big guy. We won't yell anymore. It's okay, Pumpkin.

Ruby: *snorts* Pumpkin?

Oscar:*embarassed* Uhh…yeah. It’s short for Pumpkinhead.

Nora: Aww. That's kind of sweet.

Weiss: *arms crossed with an incredulous expression* You named it!

Jaune: *reasonably* Oscar, I understand you want to help this bot but you do realize he's Atlas Academy property. You can't just keep him in the house. He's not a pet.

Oscar: *pouting* I know I can’t keep him but he's still pretty messed up. If I take him back to the school as he is now, they'll throw him away for sure. At least let me try and fix him first. Please.

Jaune: Oscar...

Oscar: *imploringly* Please.

Jaune and Nora exchanged unsure looks. Weiss huffed but in the end it was Ruby who spoke up.

Ruby: Okay.

Weiss: What! Ruby you're not serious!

Ruby: It's like Oscar said, we can’t send him back to the school broken. The least we can do is let him finish fixing him.

Weiss: Unbelievable.

Ruby: Weiss...

Ruby plants a firm hand on Weiss’ shoulder, looking at her squarely so she’s certain the Schnee girl could see her serious expression.

Ruby: Please.

Weiss stares at Ruby blankly for a few beats before finally sighing, admitting defeat.

Weiss: Fine. But it's not staying in here. *indicates to the bedroom* There’s an empty storage room downstairs in the basement. It's not much but it’s definitely more appropriate to house your...Pumpkin friend than a small bedroom closet. It’s yours till the bot is fixed and…I’ll see if I can get you some better tools to speed up the process. While I detest lying to my sister and the General, I guess I could always say it’s for a school project or something. Not making any promises.

Oscar beams.

Oscar: Thank you Weiss-cream.

Weiss: *eye twitching* Call me that again and you and your bot will be sleeping in the streets tonight.

Oscar: *nervously* Y---Yes ma’am. I promise I’ll move Pumpkin as soon as the storage room opens up.

Weiss: Good. Just…hurry up and fix it. The last thing we need is trouble with Atlas Academy.

---

As promised, Oscar moved Pumpkinhead immediately into the storage room after Weiss gave him access. In this next concocted scene, Pumpkin is safely secured with Oscar now standing behind him on a chair for added height while he worked diligently on repairing some of the remaining damages done to its head.

Oscar: Alright big guy. You’ll only feel a slight tickle but I promise it won’t hurt.

Pumpkinhead voices his disapproval with incoherent robot noises but otherwise stays trustingly cooperative while Oscar patches him. When Oscar was done, he patted the top of Pumpkinhead’s head with a proud grin, happy with his handiwork.

Oscar: There you go. Now that part’s all done for today. See. Not as bad as you thought, right bud? Nothing to be scared about.

Ruby: Didn't realize you were such a robot whisperer.

Oscar nearly falls off his chair as he zips around to find Ruby standing at the top of the staircase leading down into the storage room. She wore an amused smile; arms crossed as she came down.

Oscar: *embarrassed* Ru---Ruby? How---How long have you been standing there?

Ruby: *giggling* Not too long but long enough to see you sweet talk, Mr. Pumpkinhead over there. Are you sure you don’t need any help fixing him? Yang’s pretty handy; no pun intended and…I might know a thing or two that could help out too just so you know. I did built my weapon from scratch after all.

Oscar: Thanks but…as much as I’d love the extra hands, I don’t want to distress Pumpkin too much. He’s not really open to new people right now. Besides I used to help my uncle fix the machinery back on the farm. Fixing a giant robot, surprisingly not that different from fixing a tractor. I mean it is different but my Uncle Henry was the best mechanic I know. Taught me everything he knew and I've always loved a good pet project.

Wiping his grease stained hands on a handkerchief he kept in his back pocket, Oscar smiled broadly as he patted the top of Pumpkinhead’s exposed top once life time before closing it shut. After that, the young boy jumped down from his perch to stand next to Ruby, admiring the work he was able to get done that evening.

Oscar: *smiles at Ruby* It's a slow hurdle but at least we’re getting somewhere, y’know?

Ruby: *nods; smiling back* Well uh...you seem to be doing a pretty great job so far on your own. I'm actually really impressed.

Oscar: *blushing* For real?

Oscar tried leaning against a small table that was next to him; absently neglecting the table had wheels. Immediately Oscar scrambled to regain his balance and make sure the tools on top the table didn’t clatter to the floor and startle Pumpkinhead. While he was victorious in keeping the giant bot at ease, that didn’t stop him from momentarily making a spectacle of himself in front of Ruby who eyed him closely, hand covering her mouth to supress another giggle.

Oscar: *cheekily* I meant to do that.

For the sake of Oscar’s pride, Ruby ignored his last blunder as she slowly approached Pumpkinhead. Instantly, the bots beady white eyes swivelled around inside their socket to focus in on Ruby.

Ruby: He's looking a lot better from earlier.

Oscar: *rubbing the back of his neck bashfully; cheeks slightly flushed* Thanks. I owe Weiss big time for letting me use the storage room. It’s amazing how much more work I can get done when I’m not trying to hide a giant robot in my closet anymore.

Ruby nods wordlessly as she slowly edged closer to Pumpkinhead, eyes wide with curious wonder. Now Ruby was standing close to the robot’s legs. The instant she made an attempt to move further, that’s when the uproar started. Incoherent static mechanical noises echoed throughout the garage as Pumpkinhead made a fuss trying to move as far away from Ruby as possible.

Immediately, Oscar pulled Ruby back making sure to gently move her as far away from the robot as possible. After he did that, he ran to the robot’s side, doing his best to silence its distressed signals.

Oscar: Whoa! WHOA! Easy Pumpkin. She's a friend. She’s not going to hurt you. Easy bud, easy.

A few gentle words and reassuring pats later, Oscar managed to tame the robot yet again and Pumpkinhead settled silent once more. However its optical eye never left Ruby who now stood far, a bit shaken herself. Now it was her turn to be comforted by Oscar who returned to her side with a reassuring smile.

Oscar: … I should have warned you. Pumpkin doesn’t really like anyone coming near him except me. Sorry about that.

Ruby: No it’s….okay. Is he better now?

Oscar: Yeah, he should be good so long as you stay over here.

Ruby nodded. Rubbing her shoulder nervously, she made an attempt to break the awkwardness of her blunder.

Ruby: …So ......Pumpkinhead, huh?

Oscar: *chuckling* Name of the year, right?

Ruby: *smirking wryly* I guess. Why that name though?

Oscar: It’s an old boring farm boy story you probably wouldn’t want to here.

Ruby: *smiling* Oh yeah? Try me.

Her answer made Oscar smile.

Oscar: Well; when I was a little kid growing up on the farm, we had this old neighbour. I never learned what her real name was. I just used to call her Ms. M for mean because she was the meanest old lady in the world, at least to 10-year-old Oscar. Although she had her own farm with her own cornfields, she’d always let her pigs and her weird four horned cow wander onto our side of the land and destroy our crops before they could harvest.

Ruby: *disbelievingly* I’m sorry. A four-horned cow?

Oscar: *nods* Yep. And each time my family complained, she’d just laugh at us and still leave her animals to mess up our crops while hers remained perfectly fine. Not that it helped much. She was actually a really bad farmer and all her former farmhands couldn’t stand working for her.

Ruby: She sounds like quite the handful.

Oscar: She was. I hated that old lady. Aunt Em taught me that it’s not good to hate people but that lady was a real witch. She was never nice to me and she was even worst to my aunt. Reminds me a lot of that Mombi kid from school actually. Both are a bunch of bullies.

Anyways, one harvest, 10 year old me figured he had enough of Ms M and wanted to teach her a lesson. So I picked the biggest pumpkin I can carry and built this giant scare---er---pumpkin hoping he would scare Ms M and her animals off our land. You can probably guess what I named him.

Ruby: *drumming her finger against her chin, pretending to ponder* Hmm, think, think, think. *snaps fingers and grins* Pumpkinhead?

Oscar: *laughs* You've been paying attention.

Ruby: *giggles* So what happened? Did the OG Pumpkinhead scare away the old wicked witch next door?

Oscar: Nope. Didn't even phase her at all. Actually it was the ten shot gun bullets through the window from Aunt Em that did the trick. Never dared bother us again after that.

Ruby: *jaw hanging in a mix of shock and amusement* No way!

Oscar: *grinning wide* Yes way! I can still hear my Aunt Em now. Oscar, fetch me my gun! No, not that one! The bigger one with the bigger bullets.

At this point, Ruby was in stitches, hardly able to contain her laughter and Oscar joined her.

Ruby: *though laughter* I'm sorry. I'm having a hard time picturing your dainty old aunt firing a gun.

Oscar: *chuckling* There's an old Mistralian saying back home. You don’t mess with the west and if it hails from the south, get out. West and South Anima are mostly farming lands. If there are two things you don't play with in my neck of the woods, it's family and produce and that old witch had it coming big time.

I'd never forget the look on her face when my aunt marched straight up to her house and blew out all her windows. All ten of them on all sides. Not a single piece of glass was spared that day. Em even took out Ms. M’s glass eye. But for that she used a teeny, tiny pistol.

Ruby: *wheezing* You are making this up!

Oscar: *sarcastically* Would I lie?

Ruby gave Oscar a knowing look, punching him playfully in the shoulder.

Oscar: *chuckling* Okay, okay, you got me. That last part about the glass eye is made up but everything else is full proof. Farm boy's honour on my uncle’s grave.

Oscar grinned cheekily and Ruby only shook her head in amusement at the former farm hand.

Ruby: Wow. And I guess this Pumpkinhead reminds you of home.

Oscar: Yeah. Y'know he's not too different from the one on the farm. He's bright orange. Got two beady eyes and a crooked moon smile. Big ole pumpkin-sized head and skinny arms and legs---

At Oscar’s comments, Pumpkinhead made a noise from behind as if to show his displeasure of Oscar’s remarks about its physique. Oscar backpedals, turning to flash the robot a kind-hearted smile.

Oscar: *chuckles* I don't mean that in a bad way Pumpkin. You're a good boy. Yes you are, Whose the best Pumpkinhead in the world? You are!

At Oscar’s affectionate comments, the colour on Pumpkinhead’s eyes turned neon pink as if to reflect its delight of being coddled by Oscar and its robot legs even wiggled, as if mimicking a dog wagging its tails happily at its owner. It is a unexpectedly adorable moment that even makes Ruby gush. So much so that she forgets herself.

Ruby: *cooing; heart-eyes; clapping her hands excitedly* Awww, he is a sweet guy!

This time, Pumpkinhead sprung up suddenly; bursting through the cables that Oscar was partially using before in his current stage of repairing the bot as it shuffled behind whatever giant piece of infrastructure within the storage room was big enough to shield the bot from Ruby. From there Pumpkinhead remained.

Oscar groaned, rubbing his forehead. Ruby, in turn, looked to him guiltily.

Ruby: *apologetically* I am so, sorry. Things were getting so cheery, I forgot about…before. I’m really sorry Oscar. I guess Pumpkin really doesn’t like me now, huh?

Oscar: *exasperated but assuring* Don't…*sighs*…Don’t take it personally. It's not really you. Pumpkin’s scared of everyone. He's alright with me because I think I'm the first person who hasn't tried to hurt him before. Kind of a bad thing to say, isn’t it?

Ruby: Well...isn't he a practice droid? Aren't they built specifically for combat? To take a hit whenever on the battlefield?

Oscar: Yeah but...that doesn't necessarily mean he liked being used that way. What if all the other practice droids are like Pumpkin?

Ruby: I think your guy is a special case, Oscar.

Oscar: You’re probably right. But it makes you wonder doesn't it? I know you guys must think I'm being silly for caring about something that's technically not alive but...he feels alive to me. When he's scared...I feel his fear. I understand it as if it's my own. It's not his fault he was born to be this. He never asked to be made into a practice droid for others to beat up on him whenever they liked. It wasn't his choice. He just had to accept the role he was dealt with but just because this is his life now doesn’t mean he has to like it. He's free to feel scared and not be okay with everything.

Ruby eyed Oscar weirdly. Even though she knew he was speaking from the heart in defence of Pumpkinhead, she couldn’t help but get the impression that his words felt oddly off. As if there was more to them between the lines.

Ruby: *concernedly* Oscar, is everything...okay? With you?

Now it was Oscar’s turn to eye Ruby strangely.

Oscar: *surprised* Yeah I'm good. Why wouldn't I be?

Ruby: I---

Ruby opens her mouth to continue but instead decides against it; claiming it wasn’t the right time to pry.

Ruby: Nevermind.

Oscar looks over Ruby once more, waiting to see if she might say something else but when she doesn’t, he shrugs casually.

Oscar: I'm...going to go check up on Pumpkin. Did you need me for something?

Just like that, Ruby remembers why she came down to the storage room in the first place. She blushes, a bit embarrassed that she had gotten so distracted before.

Ruby: *awkwardly* Oh right! No, no, I just...came down to let you know dinner's almost ready.

Oscar: *smiles* Ooh good I'm starving actually. Let me just clean up here and I’ll join you up upstairs.

Ruby nods. As Oscar makes a move to tidy up to leave, that’s when Pumpkinhead peep its head out, eyes fixed on Oscar.

Oscar: Hey buddy, I'm going up to eat now. I won’t be gone for long but I need you to be on your best behaviour, okay?

Oscar had meant to sound more assuring but his attempt was met with distressed robotic chatter. At the noise, Oscar’s expressed dropped shamefacedly.

Oscar: …Look, I know you don't like it when I leave but…I’ll just be upstairs. I’ll only be gone for like four minutes. Three if I eat really fast.

The robotic distressed signals only intensified and Oscar slumps, face in hand.

Ruby: What's wrong?

Oscar: *sighing* He's…in one of his clingy moods, tonight. Must've been all the excitement from today. When he's stressed like this he doesn't like me to leave. Doesn't want to be left alone. *groans loudly* Guess I'm missing dinner.

Ruby: No you don't. I'll bring your plate down for you. I'll just let the others know we'll be having dinner in the garage tonight.

Oscar: Wait… we?

Ruby: Yeah. You, Pumpkinhead and me. *smiles brightly* You can keep Pumpkin company so he doesn’t stress out and I can keep you company. But…that's only if you---y’know, want my---

Oscar: No, no it’s cool. I---Pumpkin's not much of a talker anyways and...

Oscar flashes Ruby a smile.

Oscar: I'd like your company.

Ruby: *beaming* Great! I promise I won't overstep again this time. Besides…

Ruby turns her attention on Pumpkinhead who was still peeping out at them.

Ruby: *perkily*We may have had a rough start but don't worry Pumpkin, you and I will be bestest of friends in no time too.

Ruby flashes Pumpkinhead a big toothy smile, hitting him with a big ole Ruby Rose thumbs up only for Pumpkin to jolt and zip his head right back behind his hiding spot.

Oscar: *sweatdrops* Sorry.

Ruby: Playing hard to get I see. Not to worry, I've befriended your type before. You're not getting me to give up that easy.

With a determined huff that earns a chuckle from Oscar, Ruby turns on her heals to head back upstairs.

Oscar: Hey Ruby?

Ruby looks back.

Oscar: Thank you. From me and Pumpkin. *cheeks reddening* Mostly me.

Ruby says nothing. Instead she just smiles brightly, pleased with herself to see her friend smiling at her. With that, she leaves to go grab their food.

And scene.

What do you guys think? Now this squiggle meister has shared quite a bit of Oscar- themed theories and Pinehead headcanons before but I think this one has become one of my personal favourites especially as we’re going into the Atlas Arc.

I already got my wish last season with the introduction of flying monkey Grimm in the series. Now what I’d love to see next is Oscar awakening his inner mechanic and creating Pumpkinhead. And after Pumpkinhead, perhaps even Sawhorse will be integrated into RWBY as well as both characters were signature in Princess Ozma’s side of the story.

Words cannot fathom how much I really, really dig this idea. I really want Pumpkinhead to become a canon character in Oscar’s story now because I think it could be pretty cute for Oscar to have his very own robotic companion who he becomes attached to. Ruby had Penny but unlike Oscar, Penny wasn’t canonically invented by Ruby. Pinocchio wasn’t made by either Little Red Riding Hood or Dorothy Gale.

However Princess Ozma did create Jack Pumpkinhead and eventually Sawhorse.

Who knows? If my Pinehead theory comes true, perhaps Oscar will invent his own Pumpkinhead while in Atlas. Atlas is the most technologically advanced kingdom in Remnant so it is a huge possibility. Plus as I’ll point out again, this fits into the Wizard of Oz. If Oscar becomes an inventor on top of being a great and powerful wizard, I don’t think anyone can really complain because it comes with the source material he was influenced by.

Plus Oscar becoming an inventor could be something worth exploring as part of his individual story outside of his story with Ozpin. The whole Ozma reincarnation cycle and magic and longstanding battle with Salem to protect humanity became part of Oscar’s story via his connection with Ozpin who is essentially the Wizard of Oz.

But Oscar inventing Pumpkinhead is more connected to Princess Ozma who he draws reference from. So therefore, this is an opportunity to develop Oscar as his own character outside of Ozpin. Right now, most of Oscar’s story has primary been focused the part he shares with Ozpin.

That’s fine but… ya’ll know how much I have been advocating for Oscar to get his own fair share of development, right? And I think this is an idea on how RWBY can do that while drawing reference from the fairy-tale character Oscar was based off of. This is something the CRWBY Writers can do with Oscar while in Atlas as a means of fleshing him out. I’m just saying.

But y’know. For now, it’s only just another theory to add to the rest as always.

More Squiggles’ RWBY Content

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#rwby #oscar pine #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #ruby rose #rwby musings #rwby volume 7 #rwby v7 theories #squiggles scripts: rwby

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