Ozpin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clocktowers) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deernet2021-09-06 06:18 pm
clocktowers) wrote in deernet2021-09-06 06:18 pm
Entry tags:
o1 . text, un: beacon
Welcome, to all arrivals, new and old. My name is Ozpin.
It seems our arrival has fallen on October's doorstep. It was, to put it lightly, a dangerous month in Deerington. Even here in Trench, I would be unsurprised to find that we are entering a season of bloodshed and Beasts.
It would be wise to prepare. Even should that degree of danger fail to arrive, many of us have been newly burdened by powers we have not yet learned to control.
In the world of Remnant - I do not think it right to call it 'home,' in light of our situation - I served as headmaster of a combat academy. I guided young people in learning to harness their powers and hone their abilities, even in the most dire of circumstances.
If you are interested in such training, I am now accepting students for private instruction. It seems our currencies won't be of much use here, so allow me to propose an alternate price: stories. I have always been a scholar of folklore and fairy tales, and I would like to hear what your own worlds have to offer.
[ Ozpin hesitates a long, long beat. Then: ]
I shall even trade you one in return. My favorite, as of late, is about an old hermit and the visitors who changed his life. For those who have heard some of my more recent tales, you may be pleased to know that this one has a happy ending.
It seems our arrival has fallen on October's doorstep. It was, to put it lightly, a dangerous month in Deerington. Even here in Trench, I would be unsurprised to find that we are entering a season of bloodshed and Beasts.
It would be wise to prepare. Even should that degree of danger fail to arrive, many of us have been newly burdened by powers we have not yet learned to control.
In the world of Remnant - I do not think it right to call it 'home,' in light of our situation - I served as headmaster of a combat academy. I guided young people in learning to harness their powers and hone their abilities, even in the most dire of circumstances.
If you are interested in such training, I am now accepting students for private instruction. It seems our currencies won't be of much use here, so allow me to propose an alternate price: stories. I have always been a scholar of folklore and fairy tales, and I would like to hear what your own worlds have to offer.
[ Ozpin hesitates a long, long beat. Then: ]
I shall even trade you one in return. My favorite, as of late, is about an old hermit and the visitors who changed his life. For those who have heard some of my more recent tales, you may be pleased to know that this one has a happy ending.
( not here )
Not until now. Now Ozpin is just kind of here, existing in the same town as him and having many of the same friends as him and neither of them are plotting to overthrow the world or destroy each other or anything. It's weird, and it leaves Ford ill-prepared for things like stumbling across one of Ozpin's public network posts. So unprepared, in fact, that his first thought is not how annoyed he is, but rather that he's actually stumbled across a few folktales and fairytales that originated in Trench, and that they're something he thinks Ozpin would like to hear.
He catches himself well before he thinks about writing a message, though if it weren't for that mortifying-in-hindsight encounter on the boardwalk he might have as some sort of peace offering. Now, however, just the idea of interacting with Ozpin is enough to make him want to squirm out of his own skin. Instead of writing anything out, he simply sets aside his Omni and decides to focus on something else.
Maybe next time. ]