the next step.

oscar pine ( rwby ) / isola radiale / house 127

[heartcog]

– BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY. ITALICIZE UNCOMFORTABLE.

the dark ⋆ fire ⋆ open water ⋆ deep water ⋆ being alone ⋆ crowded spaces ⋆ confined spaces ⋆ change ⋆ failure ⋆ war ⋆ loss of control ⋆ powerlessness ⋆ prison ⋆ blood ⋆ drowning ⋆ suffocation ⋆ public speaking ⋆ natural animals ⋆ the supernatural ⋆ heights ⋆ death/dying ⋆ intimacy ⋆ rejection ⋆ abandonment ⋆ loss ⋆ the unknown ⋆ the future ⋆ not being good enough ⋆ scary stories ⋆ speaking to new people ⋆ poverty ⋆ loud noises ⋆ being touched ⋆ forgetting ⋆ remembering ⋆ loving

Tagged by |  listen we’re past that dw abt it

Tagging | You.

[heartcog]

“ you know when it really isn’t the day to read... or write... or do homework... or work.... or vibe... or exist? “

" yeah, it’s one of those days. “

[heartcog]

wait,

what do you mean i can get grounded???

[heartcog]

petalbursting replied to your post

paint GLUE, that’s GENIUS

thanks i’m applying for a patent for the both of us right now

[heartcog]

petalbursting‌:

…

… i mean… we do have to find paint in the first place… and paint should be…

… near the… glue… 

...  ... ... ... ... ... ... . . .

... 

we’re going to the store right now. 

[heartcog]

paint glue IS pretty innovative... 

.............................................. and probably also non toxic

[heartcog]

petalbursting‌:

            hmmm, tough call… child-me didn’t care much about taste — more about just putting something in my mouth. … but i DID keep doing it… 

            … should we… try glue, too— ?

...

...

... SHOULD we?

[heartcog]

headmastering‌:

It’s not what pain has done to me. it’s what it’s done to other people! Please!! food coloring maybe! stuff labeled edible???? please?

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... . . .

it’s for science. sorry, oz!

[heartcog]

petalbursting‌:

           my dad said i ate glue a lot as a kid, and i turned out juuust fine. for-children stuff just means they can eat it, that’s the whole point ! … would it actually taste good, though— ??

it’s less about taste and more about experience though, isn’t it??

... and in regards to eating glue, maybe for-children products actually do taste good. i mean, you had it a lot, right? that had to mean something... right?

[heartcog]

headmastering‌:

Please don’t eat paint.

what did paint ever do to you???

[heartcog]

petalbursting‌:

           well, as long as it doesn’t have lead in it… it’s totally okay ! … i think !

i mean... if it’s labeled as for-children and non toxic, it can’t be that bad, right?

[heartcog]

are people eating paint?

[heartcog]

petaltrail‌:

           HE   speaks with such certainty that it almost sounds like an accusation. Her lips part as if to reply, but it’s clear he’s not finished — and she’s a little stunned that this is a conversation they’re having at all. Perhaps it’s better this way… That he feels comfortable enough to bring it up at all, if it’s really what he’s feeling. But something about the way it’s said… Why does it make her feel angry to hear it ? Why can she feel her brows sloping sharply downward when he’s… just being honest ? 

                ❛   Oscar…   ❜   she begins, pausing as if in thought — in reality she has no idea what to say to that, using his name to pad for time.   ❛   Mm… I wasn’t there. The only reason I know any of it is ‘cause Nora, Jaune… and the Professor all told me. And from what they’ve said, I know… that you did do something — plenty.   ❜   A pause, and her voice dips down a little softer — whether out of an attempt at gentleness or to mask her own turmoil, it’s difficult to say.   ❛   … Is that just — what you expect outta me ?  Lying to make you feel better… ?   ❜

“ if i did ‘plenty’ of anything, it was in me holding them back. “

he doesn’t want to be saying this, but, at the same time, if he didn’t, then why were the words spilling from his mouth in the way that they did? “ how can you not understand that i let the relic get stolen? after all we did to get it? “ something boils from deep within him, molten hot and thick like syrup. “ it’s just been reassurance after reassurance. “ he says, all while trying to hold back the burning sensation that wells in his throat, nails digging into calloused palms. “ don’t you hate it? how we take five steps forward and get kicked ten back? because of plans not panning out the way they intended to? because of-- because of people like me who can’t even imagine how they’d ever be able to keep up with you all? “

another long inhale, it appears to almost be painful in its execution, especially with the slow, drawn out way he lets himself breathe out. something hurts, oh yes, something hurts, something that smells of pride, of something saline hidden in the corner of his eyes. “ who doesn’t by this point? why-- “ with an audible “fuck” as the child’s voice cracks, he breathes in again, rubbing quickly at his face before breaking eye contact with the girl before him. “ why won’t... “ 

“ ... why won’t anyone let me say sorry, ruby? “

and why won’t saying sorry make him feel any better?

[heartcog]

“ i barely did anything. “

a straight forward, out of nowhere statement. oscar’s gaze seems different compared to past encounters, a harder glint in his eyes, one hand clenched firmly into a fist while the other curls and presses itself against his head. some would interpret it as confusion, others would perhaps say anger, but the most accurate way to describe it would be... melancholic, resigned. “ you know that. “ he tacks on the accusation with a certain ire, hazel eyes looking down at his hands. ( their hands? ) 

a slow, purposeful inhale gives pause to the conversation, the sigh that the boy exhales seeming to belong to that of someone centuries older than him. “ so... please. “ he starts slowly, the frown growing all the more prevalent across cherubic features. it doesn’t suit him-- it doesn’t, but he’s been doing it more often than any of his other, hasn’t he?

“ don’t lie to me just to make me feel better. “

( @petaltrail​. )

[headmastering]

Little Talks

[heartcog]

headmastering‌:

     It’s a quiet winter day at home, the fire place crackling as the wind whistles outside. Soft footsteps echo against the floor as long strides place Ozpin in front of the sofa Oscar likes to do his reading in. The boy doesn’t look up right away, eyes never leaving the pages in front of him, but in a fashion that has the man furrowing his brows in concern.

     “Mind if I have a seat? I have your cocoa.” He asks, sitting down beside him when the permission is given. There’s two mugs in his hands, one of which is promptly handed over. Oz gently observes the boy take his first sips, before taking one of his own and sighing.

     “Oscar… is something bothering you?” The question at first seems out of place, but he quickly explains himself. “I was going to ask how you were enjoying the book… but I noticed you weren’t really reading it.” Just staring at or through the story in his hands. “So please, talk to me.” 

     I’m listening.

the hero climbed higher and higher, ascending the tower where her lover lay. their hair had been cut, no longer able to welcome back their beloved one to spend a moment within the brick walls. still, the knight swore to see the woman again, gasping for breath as ravaged hands spilled blood in the climb. and, just as she reached the top, she saw the one whom she had pledged her life to, embracing her as they shared a deep and passionate kiss. but something was amiss. 

the maiden of the tower had plunged a knife deep into her lover’s chest, pushing her farther and farther until her heels teetered on the edge of the window, before falling as the sound of a gun echoes--

“ h-huh? “

“ bothering... ... ... ... --me? “ oscar draws up his legs onto the cushions, managing to cradle himself into a fetal position as the mug tottered precariously on his knees, hands gripping at the ceramic tightly. “ ... mmm. this adaptation isn’t my favorite. “ a halfhearted attempt at sarcasm, the boy seems to deflate as he further sinks into the couch. “ i think that i’m okay. “ he says, staring at the ceiling. “ just... thinking. “ his pointer finger taps against the mug several times, before he goes to readjust his bandages. 

“ it should go away. “ he tries to reassure the other, trying to get the sight of metal rushing past his vision out of his head. “ i... “ reach out. please. he can do it, just, just... 

“ ... just think i hate heights, that’s all. “

[heartcog]

what more could he have done? he wonders.

which combination of words and actions would have led back into peace, to harmony and working together as they had just agreed on hours prior? something had happened to ironwood back then, when he had disappeared back into the academy and left the general to take on watts alone in the place where hell began. something that flipped a switch, had the man backtracking all of their delicately organized process into something even worse than how he started. as the boy had crashed against the ground from another blow, he had heard over his scroll a single statement: ironwood’s declaring martial law. 

he hardly had any time to think on it as his attacker had donned his visage and threatened the people he had decided to declare as his friends, but as time went on, he couldn’t help himself as the worry culminated and grew, especially as a lamp of gold and azure had been snatched from right under his nose and he had come to the frustrating conclusion that he wouldn’t have been able to do anything but drag the others down with his presence. the anger had pooled in his chest, guilt rising as so too did his legs as they pulled him closer and closer to a certain elevator, down into the lion’s den with a fearful machination that no longer wanted to have a heart.

oscar’s hand lingers over his chest, the feeling of a soreness that bloomed with the sensation of his aura shattering resounding in his ribs. james-- ironwood had made it clear that he no longer wished to speak with him, the failed successor, the child who had never been able to bring back the man who the other had regarded as a trusted friend all that time ago. 

( ‘ can your children win a war? ‘ )

 the boy stands in silence, watching the man intently before him. as a second ticks by, he does little more than shifting his weight from one foot to the other, instead making his stride in the form of spoken word. 

“ ... hello, sir. “

perhaps the general didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, that quite possibly ringing even more truly than before given this foreign land, but the chill hurts. ( he’s sorry. ) the walls hurt. ( he’s sorry. )  the sight of a scared animal running away hurt. ( he’s so, so sorry. ) eyebrows draw together, his gaze staying as he holds his own hand. ( how could he have helped? ) a useless effort, given how the other had most certainly caught the sight of his fingers trembling. ( should he have run away, too? ) “ when... “

“ when did you get here? “

( @tinheartedly​. )

[heartcog]

shiftwish‌ ( it’s not that bad... ):

  “ do you get into fights? you don’t look like you could hurt anyone! ”

  not that tsukasa has much room to talk. he’s flexed his own strength several times in the past between destroying what should’ve been indestructible in its own domain among other actions. he curls and uncurls his fingers a few times before folding his hands behind his back, rocking back on his heels and listening to oscar.

  “ cold…? ”

  what a strange question. who asks the dead if they’re cold? perhaps there’s a beating heart in his chest and blood in his veins once more, but tsukasa isn’t alive by any means. even with the slight shiver that runs through him at the mention, he only sinks his nails into his skin and smiles.

  “ i am, but it doesn’t matter! we’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you and your weird belt fashion! do you have any more you don’t need? ”

were he a year younger and still living in the attic of a barnhouse, oscar would have most certainly agreed with that assessment. “ it’s unfortunately pretty common back home. “ but living the life of a normal citizen wasn’t quite fabled in the stars for him, or something like that. ‘and i can’t call myself an expert,’ he wants to add, but decides against it at the last second. this kid wouldn’t get any strange ideas from all of this, would he? 

after a moment, oscar decides that that such observations would be unavoidable.

“ they’re not that weird. “ unconsciously, his hand hovers over the one that had been pulled taut around the bottom of his torso, before forcing his hand back down.  oscar nods his head to a place behind tsukasa, revealing the presence of a cafe ( one that he thankfully hasn’t scouted out yet ). maybe satiating any need for sugar would take the heat off of his new kicks.

“ do you like cocoa? “