Prompt: "We can't go there. I'm, uh. Banned. For life."
Hard mode was “make the speaker Ozpin” and this may have gotten a little out of control. ...And sad.
Doing a meme, send me a sentence and I’ll sure write something I guess @_@
-
"We can't go there," Ozpin said sharply, fingers digging into Qrow's arm as he dragged him away from the back-alley nightclub door, and Qrow was about to ask if he'd taken their night out too far when Ozpin cleared his throat sheepishly and added, "I'm, ah. Banned. For life." Qrow's eyebrows shot up as he took another glance back at the club. "This life?" he asked, and Ozpin chuckled at the skepticism in his voice.
"Believe it or not, yes. My team and I...may have been responsible for their no-student policy. They banned Huntsmen entirely for a few years, if I recall correctly."
Ozpin's hand slipped from Qrow's arm, sliding down to hold hands and turning their retreat into a leisurely alleyway stroll, and as much as Qrow had been hoping to treat Oz to a little dancing and non-Beacon-or-inner-circle human interaction, he had to admit this was more their speed. It was a clear night, the stars bright enough to see despite the city lights and the club close enough to the docks that there was a nice sea breeze going on. And just getting Oz out of the damn tower was always a win.
"Can't believe Beacon let a known felon become headmaster," Qrow said with a teasing smirk. "Although that sure explains why the application screening process is so lax."
Ozpin huffed a soft laugh and gave his hand a light squeeze. "Nothing so scandalous," he said. "Just the follies of youth; we were fresh off our first year at Beacon, Peter got a bit rowdy, which meant Leo got a bit excitable, and by the time things escalated the staff realized I had deliberately relied on my student status to disguise the fact I was only fifteen and I felt the need to argue the point...by the time the dust cleared, well, I still believe nothing of true value was destroyed in the process, but we did manage to earn a ban and put them off allowing anyone aspiring to our profession entry for a spell."
Qrow had a feeling he was grinning a little wider than was really appropriate, but couldn't bring himself to dial it down. "And let me guess, Lionheart ditched the continent after graduation to escape the shame?"
"Actually, I think he left the continent to get away from Peter," Ozpin admitted, and Qrow snorted.
"Is it mean of me to say I kinda get it?"
To his surprise, Ozpin slowed them nearly to a stop to shoot him a severe look. "Yes it is, Qrow--not to mention a bit hypocritical when you happen to be involved with someone equally verbose--"
Huh, this was a button Qrow hadn't known about. "But you actually have something interesting to say that isn't all bragging--"
"Despite his bluster, Peter has always been a supportive friend and an excellent Huntsman. I would've allowed him into the inner circle years ago," Ozpin grimaced self-consciously, shoulders sagging as the defensive fight went out of him, "if, regrettably, he weren't liable to spill the whole thing several drinks into the next staff party."
He flashed Qrow an apologetic smile, which was completely unnecessary but inevitable since he was sorry for everything pretty much all the time. "Yeah, that's kinda a drawback in our super secret organization," Qrow said, grinning, and gave their linked hands a light swing as they picked up the pace again. This was definitely better than the nightclub would've been. And some of that was a little selfish; Oz could've used some loud, busy, out-of-the-quagmire-he-called-a-head fun, but Qrow did like having him all to himself. The intimacy, the anecdotes, the openness...he felt kinda tempted to push his luck, see what other Wild Teen Oz stories he could get. "So we've got the O, P, and L in OPAL," he mused, noting as they passed the next shop that they were subtly but unsurprisingly heading due Beacon, "was A just not a party person?"
Ozpin stopped dead, and Qrow knew he'd pushed his luck too far.
Typical. "You don't have to--" he began, and Ozpin flashed him a smile sadder than Qrow thought he'd intended, grip tight. "No, it's--" he paused and took a bracing breath, "I have a habit of keeping Atalanta out of the story, but she more than deserves a mention. She was a prodigy herself--and unlike me she'd earned the title in the traditional way. But I was the one who received early admission and the mantle of leadership on our team. I had always expected her to resent me for that, but she was too selfless to stoop so low. Talented, stalwart, clever--I couldn't have asked for a better partner."
Qrow could've looked this up. He could've looked any of this up at any point, but back when he'd been a snooping spy he and Raven hadn't thought the teams would matter past school (ha ha, that'd worked out), and by the time he'd been personally invested it seemed like an invasion of privacy.
But hey, if he'd done it he wouldn't be living this moment right here, so thanks for nothing past Qrow. "So did she..."
That was the default Huntsman explanation for an absent teammate, but Ozpin just looked vaguely confused at the lead. "Hmm? Oh, no, she's alive and well. Currently encouraging a civil rights movement over in Mantle, I believe. We just haven't spoken lately." He smiled tightly. "And, in fact, she would prefer it if we never do again."
Oh. Great. Usually if they made it this far into bad territory, Ozpin clammed right up.
Turned out it was worse when he didn't. Qrow opened his mouth to protest again but Ozpin pushed on before he could. "We were close, at Beacon," he said, his smile sad and distant. "Both full of mutual admiration and grateful to have someone who understood the pedestal people with our reputations would be set upon. Her advice was always sound, her support invaluable, and over the years we grew quite close, to the point where she was the first I decided to let in on my secret outside the inner circle my predecessor had built."
Despite the usual lull of storytelling in his voice, Ozpin's head bowed and his grip on Qrow's hand turned almost crushing, unconscious but possessive.
"She...took the news badly. Not even the magnitude or the conspiracy involved, what upset her most was, well, me. For all I was aware how our commonality played a key role in our relationship, I failed to realize how integral she considered it. My true nature--repelled her. Nothing had been earned, or studied, or practiced--in our time together what I had experienced alongside her progress was not true growth but simply--becoming. "Knowing the change I had undergone, she believed I was not the person she thought she had befriended, nor even the person she'd first met. I tried to explain the merge to her, but she found the details irrelevant. Either I was a parasite or a fraud; a ghost consuming the lives of others or a coward who'd thrown away his own individuality for a chance at glory. Neither appealed to her."
Ozpin's eyes finally raised to meet Qrow's again, and what hurt most was how guarded they were, like Qrow would change his mind about all this because he hadn't thought about all that before.
And admittedly he hadn't. But he didn't think he would've wanted to, either--he knew who he'd fallen for, and that had nothing to do with who Oz had been, as long as he was comfortable with who he was now.
Gods knew Ozpin would've hated the version of Qrow that could've met him when he was that age anyway. "She conceded my goals were worthwhile, at least," Ozpin concluded, finally releasing Qrow's hand with an apologetic wince, and for all Qrow probably should've been grateful to get his circulation back he wasn't too fond of the way it felt like a dismissal. "She had no desire to be an enemy, and was even willing to keep my secret and serve as an ally should the worst occur. But she made it clear our personal relationship was over."
The silence that followed was choking and the distance wide, Ozpin huddled into himself with a gaze too melancholy to be expectant, and Qrow didn't have a damn clue of what to say, other than: "You didn't have to tell me that."
Ozpin smiled wryly and shrugged. "I wanted to. The reminder helps, from time to time. What my identity might look like from an outside perspective." He settled both hands on the handle of his cane, gripping it nearly as tightly as he had Qrow's hand. "And someday you may have to watch me do it to someone else."
Oh. So that was the lesson here.
Well, too bad, Oz, he was still a terrible student. "Not any time soon," Qrow said, stepping into Ozpin's space, and at the very least Oz let him. "And not at all if we find a way to end this."
Oz met his gaze and held it, more relaxed but still so godsdamned sad, and Qrow knew there were right words to say here that would help piece back together the trust his masochistic boss had shattered on himself but he didn't have any of them.
So instead he cupped a hand to his cheek and kissed him, and hoped it would help.
Oz leaned back into it, and he hoped that meant it did.
"And anyway, I know exactly who you are," Qrow murmured into his shoulder, and they just stood there for a while. And Qrow knew it was probably too soon, but something had to break the silence and he was famously shit at timing and Oz knew what he'd gotten into so despite the warning signs he added with snide certainty, "A nightclub felon."
To his relief, Ozpin snorted and dissolved into soft snickering, and suddenly Qrow was supporting a little more of his weight than he thought Oz had intended.
It was fine, he could take it. And they didn't have anywhere else to be. "If I recall correctly," Ozpin mused, rough voice belying the light tone, "they finally lifted the ban on professional Huntsman after the complete destruction of a club down the street by some other rowdy team of first years eight or so years later really put into perspective how much worse it could've been."
Never mind, it'd figure Qrow would fall for a guy whose first move after feeling better was to get petty. "Hey, it's not like we started that fight, but we weren't gonna leave without ending it--"
