Oscar's head was buzzing. The rush of air pulling his hair as he fell. It was cold. His stomach dropped as he fell, his heart pounding.
Even so, his eyes began to flutter shut, the cold nipping at the edges of his consciousness.
Maybe… if he just fell asleep… he wouldn't feel the impact. He wouldn't have to feel the sickening pain of death that he had dreamt of in hazy memories over the past several months.
Oscar
It was like a full-body jolt. Like Oscar had been dunked in ice water suddenly. The exhaustion was snapped off of him. And he was awake.
His eyes drifted to the side. Long Memory fell in pace with him, the sheathed cane shaking in the draft.
Oscar's head buzzed- and he just knew. Just knew what he needed to do.
He reached a hand, it was hard to reach with the sheer force of wind pressure on him, but sure enough, his hand grasped the handle of the cane. Oscar pulled it to himself, holding the familiar weight in his hands.
Oscar clicked the handle.
Oscar jolted upright, his arms becoming tangled in his sheets as he caught his breath.
It took two seconds for Oscar to rile up again.
He was… in bed. His bed. Not Atlas. Not Haven. His bed.
Oscar looked up at the wood ceiling. The familiar looping texture of the wood grain. The one knot that looked like an eyeball that Oscar often considered trying to paint over because it felt like it was staring at him.
The smell of wood and dirt.
Home.
Oscar stared down at himself.
His arms looked thinner. Still with muscle- but the form of the muscle was different. His hands were still covered in his night wrappings, simple bandages, something Oscar hasn't been able to do on the road and had just opted to keep his gloves on instead, and then when they had gotten to Atlas, Ironwood had given Oscar stiffer, reusable wrappings that held tighter to Oscar's skin.
But now they were just thin cotton bandages. The ones that Oscar would reuse for about a week every night before changing them.
Oscar glanced around, noting the room. Unsure if it was real.
He was falling from Atlas. That's where he was last.
"Oz?" Oscar spoke up, shuffling out of bed and pulling the curtains, seeing the pre-dawn glow outside.
No answer.
"Oz?" Oscar asked again.
Nothing.
Oscar looked down at his hands.
Gingerly, he found where the end was tucked. Carefully, he peeled back the bandages.
Oscar almost threw the cotton bandage when it came off, recoiling at the sight of his hands.
It had been forever since it had been that bad. Angry red skin that was missing in patches. Dips into thin new skin that barely covered up what was underneath. Oscar always felt it was best to compare it to as if someone had taken an ice cream scooper and skimmed off patches of skin.
These wounds looked fresher than before. The skin on his hands was no longer sensitive, just patchy and uneven that made Oscar's skin crawl when the newer flesh touched things directly. These were pink and new .
Oscar fumbled as he wheeled back, his knees giving out as he tumbled to the floor.. Oscar couldn't stop staring at his hand- he still had nightmares about watching them decay- seeing the fresh divots in his skin made Oscar's stomach churn.
Within seconds, the door slammed open.
Auntie Em ran in, half-dressed. She had her work pants on but still her nightshirt that hung loosely on her broad shoulders and fell just above her knees. Her dark auburn hair pulled into a loose ponytail, her dark green eyes wide with concern.
"Oscar! Are you okay?"
She quickly got over to him, seeing one of his hands uncovered. She looked around quickly, spotting the discarded bandage, and made quick work of wrapping it back up.
"Are you feeling okay? Did you hurt yourself?" She pulled him close, worry plain on her face.
Oscar took a deep breath, but his stomach still turned. "Y-Yeah I'm okay."
Auntie Em pulled him in, giving him a tight hug.
Oscar blinked wildly, feeling himself calm down again. It… it felt like it was just two years ago. Oscar, still fresh from losing his parents, recovering from wounds that hurt more to look at then to touch.
"You're up early," Auntie Em said, pulling back, obviously trying to change the subject.
Oscar nodded blearily, "yeah I uh… it's been weird sleeping in."
Auntie Em's expression softened. "You up for some work? You really should take it easy on those hands."
"I can do some simple things," Oscar insisted, "I can wear work gloves and everything."
Even if this was a dream. A strange and disconcerting dream- working with his Aunt was always one of Oscar's favorite things at that time. And… he missed it. He missed waking up the morning and having coffee with her.
"If you're sure," She ruffled his hair, "just listen to your body, okay?"
Oscar nodded.
Auntie Em got up, "I'll go finish up, we can do morning chores together, and then we can have a good breakfast together, how's that sound?"
"Great," Oscar smiled.
Oscar got dressed carefully, noting half-healed wounds and bruises under his clothes. Some were even still bandaged like the one on his shin and his shoulder. Wounds that had since faded into familiar scars. They weren't like his hands and neck, they just left pale puckered skin that Oscar was used to seeing by now. But now they were back. They stung when they were jostled too hard. Oscar made sure his bandages were secure before slipping gloves over his hands. Carefully, he clenched and unclenched his hands. It had been so long since they stung like this, but it was nothing worse than the bumps and scrapes he had gotten from training. If Oscar had to guess, they felt like they had been through at least a couple of months of recovery. Oscar could only vaguely remember that time. He knew that he wasn't very responsive at the time, spending most of his time in his room. Oscar took a deep breath, smoothing out his clothes, simple, sturdy, practical. Not distinguished like what Oscar had been wearing as battle gear for the past months.
It was familiar. It was nice.
Oscar carefully descended the stairs from his room in the attic, walking down the short hall to the living room next to the kitchen. Auntie Em was sitting at the open back door, lacing up her sturdy work boots. She turned as Oscar walked from the hall and smiled warmly. How long has it been since he had left the house? Oscar wondered as he walked to the open door, grabbing his own boots from where they sat outside. The two of them sat there, wordlessly tying their laces. Oscar's hands fumbled a bit holding the small laces but managed to tie them tightly.
"Ready to go?" Auntie Em asked, getting up, her smile growing even warmer.
Oscar smiled back. "Yeah!"
Auntie Em left Oscar with the lighter work, instructing him to feed the animals and check the coop for eggs. The cows nudged him when Oscar came up to them, one licked the back of his head, making his hair stand up. Oscar giggled and gently pushed them back.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," He said to them, rubbing a few of them on their snouts, "You missed me. I missed you too."
Oscar waved the chickens away when they gathered around his feet, impeding his path.
"You are all trying to knock me over today, how rude!" Oscar scolded them, opting to just pick up one of the stubborn hens and set it down behind him.
"They all want to be around you," Auntie Em said, carrying in a couple of buckets of water, "I think they're much more lively seeing your face than mine."
Oscar scoffed, reaching into the coop, "Are you sure? I think they're just trying to mess with me."
"You're just messing with me now," Auntie Em rolled her eyes dramatically, "Animals have always loved you, silly, and you know it."
Oscar grinned, getting back up holding the eggs, and walking carefully out of the enclosure, sometimes having to stick his leg out and coax a chicken to get out of his way. "Oh, you know me, pure of heart."
Oscar expected Auntie Em to tease back- like they always did- but she just smiled at him. Her shoulders dropped a bit, she looked... relieved.
"I'll go get a few things more done, you stay here and keep them out of trouble," Auntie Em advised, finishing pouring the buckets out.
"Of course," Oscar said, walking back over to the cows who immediately started nudging and trying to lick Oscar again.
Oscar ended up walking through the gate and sitting in the grass, where a couple of the cows settled around him, one setting its head right in Oscar's lap. Oscar chuckled a bit, stroking the fur between its eyes.
"Do you know what's going on?" Oscar asked the cow on his lap.
Predictably, the cow gave no answer.
Oscar sat there, the sunrise settling into place, the sunbeams brushing his cheeks. Even if this was just a dream, it was a nice dream. Was it death? Oscar could remember falling from the Atlas vault, the air turning cold, but then he had heard Oz's voice. Maybe this was where Oz's past incarnations went after their death. A place of comfort and peace in their life before it all was uprooted around them. Either way, for now, Oscar was fine. Right here.
Chapter 2
Ozpin's eyes flew open, his stomach dropped like he had been falling. But no, there he was. Laying in bed.
He turned onto his side, trying to suppress an oncoming headache.
Ozpin was sure that he had been dreaming, but about what, he wasn't sure.
He shuffled out of bed, looking around the room he had lived in for many years now. The Headmaster's quarters were just a level below the office. It was spacious. Much bigger than Ozpin had been used to when he first found himself living there. He remembered being disconcerted by it. He had been the kind who appreciated the things he had. Suddenly having so much was off-putting. But honestly, it didn't take Ozpin very long to adjust. He found that bits of extravagance amused him. He never got over the amusement of whenever a new faculty member or deeply-involved student found out that his delicate and beautiful teapot was almost always filled with hot chocolate. When it wasn't- it was just because it was out of hot chocolate.
Oz rolled his eyes at Ozpin's eccentricities at one point. Bemused by his bits and quirks that weren't "fitting of a headmaster."
He eventually got on board before the lines blurred between them.
It had been many years before Ozpin found that trying to untangle those separations was a massive headache. There were still shifts. They were minuscule, but sometimes Ozpin noticed the same shifts in people who weren't him. Qrow could shift between a sarcastic ass to serious and driven. Sometimes those two aspects bleed. Every human had multiple masks. How different was it?
Ozpin rubbed his head again, wandering to the window that looked over the courtyard of the academy. It was the same as ever. It was dark outside. Barely after ten. Horrid. He felt too wired from the rush of adrenaline to try to go back to sleep.
"Oscar," Ozpin muttered. It wasn't an uncommon name. Ozpin had met his fair share of Oscars who made their way through Beacon. But there was something about it. Ozpin bit back a curse. It was like something he couldn't remember. A feeling that was once commonplace, but not any longer. This was like when he had tried to recall Oz's memories in the beginning. In fact, Ozpin could easily remember many "Oscar"s through the comb of prominent memories in the many lives that he had been through. But none of them... fit. It wasn't any of them.
Well, if he couldn't sleep-
Ozpin put on some slippers and one of his pull-over sweaters. Wandering to the kitchen, pulling out milk, chocolate, cinnamon, vanilla... Ozpin stared at his saucepan, stirring it slowly as he wracked his brain. This feeling of missing something just stuck.
Something was wrong. And Ozpin had to get to the bottom of it.
Ozpin stared at the roster of students, still nursing his third cup of rich hot chocolate as he went through the names. It was about five in the morning now, the sun rising finally. His foot tapped under the desk as his lips twitched. There were three students named Oscar enrolled in Beacon right now. Two third-years and a first-year. None of them were the right Oscar. Ozpin could feel it.
"You're up and busy early," Glynda walked out of the elevator with a slightly surprised expression, "Usually you're just rolling in."
Ozpin took another sip of his thick drink. "I woke up just after falling asleep and couldn't get back to sleep at all. No matter what I tried."
Glynda frowned, "A memory?"
It wasn't too strange for Ozpin to be kept awake by a stray memory that haunted his sleep, but those incidents had been few to none in the last handful of years- they still happened, of course, but not as often and Ozpin had grown used to them as so they didn't disturb his sleep too much.
"I'm... actually not sure," Ozpin admitted, "I couldn't quite remember what I dreamed of when I woke up. I had just felt like I was falling and just could recall a name. However, no matter whom I try to recall with that name I can just tell it's not them."
Glynda pulled over a chair to the desk on the other side of Ozpin, putting down her own thermos that actually had coffee in it. "It's been a while since you've complained of something like that."
"I know," Ozpin said, rubbing his head, "It is quite frustrating."
"What name is it?" Glynda asked, "and I'd be happy to try to listen and bounce ideas back."
Ozpin chuckled lightly, "Just like old times."
Glynda smiled at that, sipping her coffee. She had gotten used to hearing about Ozpin's strange dreams and memories when he first found himself with Oz in his head. Glynda was always his closest friend, and was ready to listen, even to what seemed to be impossible.
"It was Oscar," Ozpin said.
Glynda stroked her chin, "We have at least one Oscar enrolled here."
"I checked," Ozpin admitted, "None of them are right. I can just... tell."
She looked down at her thermos, her brows knit. "Anything from Oz's memories?"
"Not there either," Ozpin didn't bother correcting her. He knew that no matter what, Glynda would still think of some sort of separation between them and that wasn't strange for people who knew incarnations before and while the lines blurred. They saw the stark difference between their personalities while they were still raw.
"Are you sure it wasn't just a dream then?"
Ozpin considered this. It was entirely possible but it felt too… solid. Too real. "I don't think so, but there aren't any leads nevertheless. I'm not sure if there is anything we can do either way."
"I'll keep an ear out," Glynda said, finally getting up, "I should go make sure that everything is going well before campus opens for the day. You should get to work and let this go for now."
Ozpin sighed, rubbing his head, "Yes, it would be for the best."
Ozpin still couldn't shake the feeling of falling.
Chapter 3
When Oscar woke up the next morning, he realized he really was either dead or this was real.
He woke up in his bed again. Early as always.
Oscar groaned. What even was this? Oz hadn't said anything the day before. In fact, Oscar hadn't even gotten any hazy "familiar" feelings that became so normal after Oz appeared. Everything felt... so normal .
Auntie Em had been brighter and happier as the day had gone on. Every time Oscar started up jokes or helped around, there was this look of pride in her eyes.
Oscar traced the edges of the bandages on his hands.
Probably, to her, she had seen Oscar the previous day, not getting out of bed. Listless and quiet. A cycle of days of walking up to his room to convince him to eat and talk to her. Then suddenly, she hears a thump in the early morning, and Oscar is acting like himself again. Just overnight. Smiling and acting like nothing was wrong.
She was probably relieved.
Oscar did remember when he started to work again about two years ago. He had been slowly getting up and doing things around the house. Actually going down for meals. Reading in the living room. Oscar remembered Auntie Em tearing up when Oscar had asked if he could cook dinner one night. After a while, Oscar started venturing outdoors again. It was slow at first. Usually just running his Aunt things from the house. Soon, the chores were split. Oscar even started just taking all the morning work at one point, as he was the morning person in the household, not Auntie Em. How strange it must be to her for that all to happen in one day rather than the months it took before.
When Oscar walked down to the living room and found his Aunt at the stove, boiling water, she stared at him with owlish eyes.
"Good morning," Oscar greeted.
Auntie Em paused, but then a big smile grew on her face, "Well good morning there, up early again, I see!"
"I'm a morning person," Oscar shrugged, walking over and giving her a quick side-hug.
"Just like your mother I tell you," She chuckled, then froze, gauging Oscar's reaction.
Oscar just smiled at her, "She had all but given up getting Dad out for work at dawn and said I was promoted."
Auntie Em beamed .
Oscar gave it a handful of days. Auntie Em, while seemingly overjoyed, was still incredibly cautious around Oscar. She tiptoed around Oscar's feelings and Oscar practically had to ask if he could help around. Oscar appreciated what she was trying to do- give him space to retreat again. When it had happened before, Oscar's recovery was far from linear. There were days when he had locked himself back in his room, feeling like his flesh was melting and eating away at itself again. Some nights, Oscar refused to turn out the lights.
But to Oscar himself, that was two years ago. Sure- he still jolted when someone touched his neck, and yes even his hands that no longer stung hurt to look at- but it was much different. Jolts of panic no longer sent him listless for the rest of the day.
The most worried Auntie Em had gotten was a couple of nights ago. They were sitting, eating dinner when Auntie Em spoke up.
"Your... your bandages are getting dirty," She finally said, her hand tightening around her fork.
Oscar paused, looking down at his hand, seeing the discoloring of the cotton. "Oh," Oscar said.
He hadn't touched either his hands or neck bandages since that first morning. He didn't want to see the angry red flesh and the pink fresh skin. He didn't want to see where his hands had uselessly fumbled for purchase, for escape, only for them to burn just as much as his neck and see where the skin had begun to melt and fall-
"Oscar."
Oscar jolted, noticing that he had dropped his fork.
"Oh! Oh sorry!" Oscar quickly picked it back up, "Yeah- yes. They're getting dirty. That's not a good thing." He cursed himself as Auntie Em gave him a worried look. "I should uh- change them. Yeah."
She carefully set her fork down, "Oscar, I can change them. You don't need to look."
Oscar swallowed. "B-But I should be able to do it, I'm okay."
Auntie Em's lips flattened into a line. "Oscar is that what this has been? I'm not expecting you to be okay. Nobody is. You don't need to force yourself."
"I'm not!" Oscar insisted, "I can handle it, I want to handle it."
Auntie Em scooted her chair back, it rubbed against the floor with a creak. She got up and walked around the small table, pulling her arms around Oscar. "You don't have to 'handle it' alone."
After that, Oscar didn't argue with her when she brought out the bandages and changed them for Oscar. He found that he couldn't even force himself to look down.
Oscar had been planning to ask that night, but he figured it would be too much for his Aunt. So Oscar waited a couple of days. As they sat together, drinking coffee and eating breakfast after morning chores, Oscar stole himself.
"Can I go to town?"
Auntie Em stared at Oscar like he had grown a second head.
"What?"
"Can I go to town?" Oscar repeated, curling his feet back in his chair, "I want to go to the library."
The library was the only place, save for a train ride to Mistral, with terminals. He could see what was going on in the world and maybe prove to himself that this wasn't some kind of purgatory. And try to contact Oz. If he was brave enough to go through with it. A search for information he didn't know before leaving home would prove to himself that what he remembered of the last two years wasn't some crazy stress-dream.
"Alone?" Auntie Em asked, looking half-horrified.
Oscar frowned, puffing his cheeks, "I'm old enough."
"Oscar, you're twelve ," Auntie Em said.
Oscar puffed his cheeks more, looking down at his coffee. He wasn't even disguising the fact that he was pouting. Oscar almost let out another argument, but it died before it even met his mouth.
Mom and Dad let me go to the library alone.
Saying that felt cruel, even if it were true. Auntie Em had lost her sister as well. She was just holding back visible grief for his sake. Even though Oscar had been through years of his grief already, she had only a few months. It wasn't fair to say that.
Oscar instead, pouted a little longer.
Auntie Em groaned, "Don't make that face, you know I'm not a good enforcer. I'm your cool Auntie Em. Play fair."
"I'll be back before dark, I know the way by heart!" Oscar insisted, leaning forward.
Auntie Em leaned on her hand, looking up at Oscar with an unsure expression.
Oscar further deployed his puppy-dog eyes.
She sunk to the table, hiding her eyes. "No, stop. Please. I can't say no to that face."
Of course, Oscar thought, barely holding himself back from speaking out loud with a chuckle, I have perfected this on huntsmen. Mainly Qrow.
"Fine, fine," She groaned, leaning back, "But if you're not back by sunset then... you're.... grounded."
Oscar let his pouty face drop and he grinned. "Thank you Auntie Em!" Oscar stood up, quickly drinking the last of his coffee, scuttering over to the sink, washing off his dishes, and dashing upstairs.
Oscar quickly put together his bag, just to hold a notebook, some money, and an extra jacket (the library was usually pretty cold, as Oscar recalled). Oscar quickly fished through his bedside table's drawer to find what he was looking for: his dad's old pocket knife. It was always good to keep on hand in case of an emergency.
Oscar walked more carefully down the stairs. He quickly slid by his aunt to give her a quick hug, "Thank you thank you I love you!"
Auntie Em gave him a cautious look. "You be very careful."
"I will!" Oscar promised. If anything, he was maybe safer walking to town now than he was back before he left for Mistral. He knew how to fight. Even without Long Memory at his side.
Before Oscar could pull away, Auntie Em grabbed his shoulder and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you."
Oscar smiled back, pressing a kiss to her cheek, "Love you too."
The dusty path to town was just as Oscar remembered in. The early morning sun lit his path as usual as Oscar jogged for a few more feet before slowing his pace. The fresh air felt nice and Oscar breathed in the cool morning air. The walk was uneventful, but it gave Oscar time to think.
If the impossible had happened, if he really had suddenly appeared two years into the past, what was Oscar supposed to do?
The first order of business: Prove that this was real. One thing Oscar knew for sure wasn't on his radar before Oz appeared was the real appearance of the Huntsmen schools. Oscar knew that if he were to be dropped at Haven right now, he'd know how to get to the on-campus housing and to the head building. He had seen them and walked to them. If he looked at a map and could pinpoint things that he knew that he had seen and that they were where he remembered, this was real.
Second: Figure out the dates, pinpoint when bad things happen. The Fall of Beacon was obvious. The day that would go down in infamy. The Fourth Day of the 40th Vytal Festival. Make some sort of timeline. Figure out how long he had before there was nothing Oscar could do.
Third, and this was the hard one: contact Professor Ozpin. Oscar had never known Oz as he had been as Beacon's headmaster. Oscar could recall Ruby commenting that Oz had become much more serious since Beacon. It made sense, things were much different, and times were no longer peaceful as they once were. Oscar had to figure out HOW to contact him and also how to make him LISTEN to Oscar. How secure were the channels? Hadn't Beacon gotten hacked at some point? General Ironwood had said something about that. So it wasn't like Oscar could just spill his story with all the details.
Oscar rubbed his head, thinking hard.
Would Ozpin remember Oscar like Oscar remembered Oz? If so, then Oscar could just send a message saying something like "Hey Oz It's Oscar Pine, you good?" and that would work just as well as "Hello Professor Ozpin, I'm Oscar Pine and I'm supposed to be your next incarnation and I know the basics of what's going to happen in the next two years please come chat with me."
Oscar let out a loud groan. Sure, that would immediately get his attention, but again, if Salem already had hacked into Beacon, then there was no telling what would happen once she heard something about a next incarnation knowing ahead of time and knowing of her plans. That would just put a big target on his back.
Town got closer. First things first, if this was all real.
Oscar walked into town, it was nearing nine-thirty if the clock tower was to be trusted. (Was it this year or next year when it got stuck for over half an hour and nobody cared to call to have it fixed?)
Oscar slipped through the streets, finding the library sitting where it always did. It was a bit larger than the average building in town, but not the biggest. Oscar carefully opened the door, shuffling into the cool building. The usual librarian at the front desk, Aliya, looked at Oscar with surprise as he came in. She was an older woman with graying dark brown hair that was often held back from her face and her light blue eyes, She had deep tan skin and smile lines around her cheeks.
"Oscar!" She said in surprise. Oscar used to stop by every week since he was ten, after all. They had become vaguely acquainted.
Oscar smiled, "Hi Miss Aliya, It's good to see you again!"
"It's been months!" She smiled, "I'm so glad to see you as well, come in, come in. I've just gotten a new shipment of new releases from Mistral, would you like to look through them?"
Oscar shook his head, "Not right now, but maybe later. I was hoping to use a terminal for a little bit."
Alyia nodded, looking happy to just see him, "Of course, of course. Take all the time you need."
Oscar waved at her as he passed into the main room, passing by the shelves until he found the nook in the back. It was empty as it was still early, all four terminals sitting in booths. Oscar took one of the far ones. not sure how long he would be here. An hour? Maybe two? At the very least, he had seven hours before he had to start heading home to make it just in time for sunset.
Oscar sat down on the plastic chair and opened the web, staring at the search bar.
[Haven Academy Campus] Oscar stole himself and pressed the enter key.
Oscar ran down the results until he found a picture. He placed his pointer finger at the entrance and traced a path to [Teacher's Housing]. Yes, that sounded right. That was where they stayed. Oscar could see the outline of the clearing by the edge of the mountain where they had trained for those weeks. Oscar moved his finger back, tracing his finger back and meeting [Administration Building]. Yes. That was where it was. Oscar could see the inside of the building in his memories. The raised dais where Headmaster Leonardo Lionheart had stood. And where he got smacked by Oscar waving Long Memory like a bat. A couple of results over was a picture of that room. The statue that resembled Jinn was there, holding up the forward-most part of the dais, the part that would descend into the Relic chamber.
Oscar's heart pounded. It was real.
Oscar had to sit back for a moment, collecting his emotions. It was real. This really was the past. Or some sort of sick form of afterlife. Seriously, what kind of afterlife would put you in a place where you knew more than the people around you?
Oz's, obviously, Oscar's cynical brain supplied. Oscar sighed, burying his head in his hands. No, he needed to do something.
Oscar leaned and grabbed his notebook and a pencil, spreading them out on the desk in front of the terminal.
[40th Vytal Festival Tournament Date] Oscar entered. The top of the search bar held the date, a couple of links down was a website called vytalfestivalcountdown.net. Oscar clicked on that. A large banner with a countdown to the seconds read, "Next Vytal Festival: One Year, 5 months, 23 days, 12 hours, 3 minutes, and 48 seconds."
Okay, Oscar could work with that.
Oscar wrote down the date in his notebook. Taking out today, he had one year, five months, and twenty-two days to do something. To make meaningful change, Oscar figured he needed at least a year of preparation with Oz- or rather Ozpin . So Oscar needed to get in solid contact with him in just under six months.
[Beacon Academy] Oscar typed in, finding the main webpage. Oscar hovered over the tabs until he found "Staff." Oscar clicked on it, There was a list of names, some of which he could recall being mentioned by Team RWBY and JNR when they talked about Beacon. But none of them felt familiar like they would have before. Right at the top, with the label "Headmaster" next to it was simply the name "Professor Ozpin".
Oscar clicked. The page opened, a short bio about Ozpin was listed. It was all superficial things. Listing his accomplishments such as "Youngest person to be appointed Headmaster." Down at the bottom, was an email.
It couldn't be that simple, could it?
Oscar opened a new tab. First, he needed an email. Oscar, admittedly, had never had an email. He had never needed one. It wasn't like he had a scroll to use before Atlas, and even then, Oscar had barely gotten far enough into the web in the few months he had with it to need an email.
Oscar found his way back to the search engine looking up "How to make an email."
It actually wasn't that hard. The only hurdle Oscar found was what the email name was going to be. OscarPine, Oscar.Pine, and Oscar-Pine were all taken. The website kept offering Oscar to put random numbers after his name, but that just felt silly. Was there something he could put to make the name stand out? Something that would make Ozpin look at it? He couldn't just put "Ozma" after his name. First off, that made Oscar uncomfortable, second- that was just asking for trouble from Salem.
OscarPineLongMemory
[Accepted]
Chapter 4
It was almost a week since Ozpin woke up with a name stuck in his head and the distinct feeling that he had just been falling. There had been no leads turning up, on more dreams or premonitions.
Glynda has stayed on top of it, as she had promised. (May the brothers bless her.) Everything Glynda brought him was another dud. Ozpin could just tell with a glance that whoever she brought up want right . It wasn't who he had been dreaming of.
Ozpin held back a grumble and dipped on his hot chocolate. At least his nights have been restful enough. The only downside to that is that he started the morning with instant hot chocolate. Nobody had 45 minutes in the morning to nurse a saucepan for the fancy stuff Ozpin loved more than anything. At least good instant hot chocolate existed.
Blearily, he sorted through his emails. Discarding spam marking ones with information, inquiries, factuality, students…
[I'm hoping to speak to you] a subject read, in the pile of emails. Ozpin almost sorted it into 'students' when he saw the handle.
From: [email protected]
Ozpin's stomach dropped.
First, there was the name. Oscar. The name he had been wracking his brain over for the past week. Oscar Pine. That finally felt right . That was the right name. That would have been enough of a shock to Ozpin but the rest of the handle- "Long Memory."
Very few people knew the name of Ozpin's weapon: Qrow, Glynda, James, Leonardo, and Theodore. And even some of them had only been told the name once or twice, it was entirely possible that some of them didn't even remember it either way.
Now a stranger, the Right Oscar, knew the name. And put it plainly out for Ozpin to notice.
He opened the email.
[Hello Professor Ozpin, my name is Oscar Pine. I'm sorry that this is sudden, but I really need to speak to you. I think that there are eyes watching, so I will use few details here, but I have to get across that this is very very important. Please respond as soon as you can. I might not be able to get back to you very soon if you don't. Thank you
Oscar]
Ozpin stared at the short email.
Slowly, he picked up his scroll and pressed one of his speed call numbers.
"Hello Glynda. I think I just heard from Oscar. You think you can get here very quickly?"
Glynda did not take any time at all. Within five minutes, she was walking briskly from the elevator door.
"What do you mean you heard from Oscar?" She asked, her heels clicking loudly on the hard floor.
Ozpin gestured to the screen pulled up on his desk. Glynda walked around and leaned on the hardwood. She froze for a moment looked over the email, and then looked to read again.
"And this is the 'Right Oscar?'" Glynda asked, glancing at Ozpin.
"Look at the email address."
Glynda's eyes flicked back the screen before her eyebrows raised and she looked back at Ozpin with shock. "How does he…"
"I don't know," Ozpin admitted, "but I think I should reply. It sounds like time is of the essence here."
"What does he mean by 'eyes watching?' Does he think that communication isn't secure?" Glynda frowned.
"He is using a hailmail account, none of those are secure," Ozpin scoffed, pulling up a reply.
[Oscar,
you have my attention, although I am not entirely sure what you mean by "there are eyes watching" but I will assume that your channel is not secure. I have to ask, how did you decide on such an email address?
Professor Ozpin]
"Smooth," Glynda commented as the email was sent.
Ozpin stared at the email, gripping tightly to the arms of his chair. A minute passed. Then two. Five.
Ozpin looked at the original email. Received at... three in the morning. Ozpin groaned loudly, burying his head on the table. It was nine in the morning now- It's been six hours since it was sent, if time really was of the essence, then Ozpin may have missed the opening.
"What is it?" Glynda asked.
"This message was sent at three in the morning," Ozpin reported, pointing at the time stamp.
Glynda tapped her chin, "Either someone is up early, up late, or they live somewhere where there is a significant time difference."
Ozpin rubbed his head. Three in the morning would be eight at night in Vacuo, four in the morning in Atlas, ten in the morning in Mistral and Menagerie, or even eight in the morning for someone in Argus. Taking out Atlas, as that was also a horrible time to be doing anything as well, that was still too many places. Too many variables.
"Well maybe you'll get another 3 AM email tomorrow," Glynda patted Ozpin's shoulder, "One message a day can't hold you both back too much."
Glynda, for once, was wrong.
The next day Ozpin checked his email as soon as he woke up. Nothing from "Oscar Pine."
Another day passed. Two.
It did nothing but ware on Ozpin's nerves. Someone out there knew something. Knew about him - about them? Ozpin quickly shook his head- that was a migraine waiting to happen. Even so, someone knew about him. Someone Ozpin didn't tell. Someone who Ozpin somehow knew about. But somehow didn't. Oscar Pine had reached out a hand and Ozpin may have failed to take it- because he was sleeping . Ozpin cursed himself at that. Even so, there had been no new emails for three days. It wasn't like Ozpin could just sit up and watch his inbox. Maybe James knew something that could alert him if a certain address sent him a message? That had to be something that existed!
Ozpin wracked his brain as he sat in the campus garden. He needed some fresh air from staring at the screen at his desk and wondering when Oscar Pine would respond.
"You look uncharacteristically stressed, Professor Ozpin."
Ozpin turned around to see a very coy looking Coco Adele. She had made herself out to be a very capable leader in the past semester at Beacon. She was sharp, strong, and dangerously perceptive. All aspects one needed to be a capable Huntress.
"Oh hello Miss Adele," Ozpin tried for a smile.
Coco pulled one of the chairs that were placed around the bandstand Ozpin had been sitting in, pulled it closer to Ozpin, and then straddled the back, leaning her arms on the backrest. "Copper for your thoughts?"
"You can't get dirt on me that easily," Ozpin chuckled, "A valiant effort though."
Coco scoffed, "Oh come on, I'm not a blabbermouth. I can keep secrets."
"I don't think it would be a smart idea to confide in a student, and a first-year nonetheless."
Coco clicked her tongue, "Worth a shot. I just thought whatever was bothering a man that told me that we need to embrace randomness would be quite a big deal."
"I assure you, it is nothing pressing," Ozpin said.
"The dark circles under your eyes say otherwise."
Ozpin was taken aback for a moment, had he really been losing that much sleep over this, he knew he was getting up earlier than usual but surely-
"Ah so it is that 'pressing'," Coco grinned devilishly, "There's no dark circles, just seeing if you would believe me."
Ozpin held back a groan. This girl was too smart for her own good.
"It are just issues with correspondence affected by time zones, is that what you wanted to know, Miss Adele?"
"Yep!" Coco said in a chirpy voice, looping her leg off of the chair and pushing it back in place, "Good chat, Professor."
I should not be encouraging this. Ozpin thought as he watched Coco walk away, looking much too pleased with herself. Ozpin made a note to not let that girl have an inch or she'd take a mile.
Chapter 5
Oscar stared at the ceiling in the early morning. He had waited six hours in the library. Nothing.
After two hours of waiting- Oscar had pulled a few books to read at that point- Oscar realized that time zones existed.
He had sent Beacon's Headmaster an email at three in the morning. Of course, he wasn't responding.
Oscar groaned to himself, logging out of the terminal and finding a more comfortable chair for a few hours. There were some bean bags in the young adult and children's section and Oscar figured that- now being twelve again- no one would care if he sat in a beanbag.
So there Oscar sat until four in the afternoon, getting through a book and starting another one before grabbing a seat at one of the terminals again, flipping open his notebook to where he wrote down the password, logged in and opened his Inbox. Empty.
Oscar buried his hands in his face. It was eight in the morning in Vale, and Oscar had to walk back and get back before sundown. And there was no telling when Ozpin routinely checked his inbox. It could even not be touched until the end of his day.
Oscar logged out again, packing his back, checking out three books from the library, and walked home, kicking rocks in his way. It was childish, sure, but Oscar was frustrated! He would always need to be back before sundown, and that gave him very few hours that could possibly overlap with whenever Ozpin was even awake. On top of that, it wasn't like Oscar could just- send an email a day, he would probably have to wait an entire week before Auntie Em agreed to let him go to the library again.
So there Oscar was, glaring at the ceiling, five days later. Ozpin had to have seen the email by now. He had probably responded too. This was costing Oscar precious time.
One year, five months, and 18 days.
One year, five months, and 18 days.
Was that even enough time?
Oscar crawled out of bed, getting dressed, and walking downstairs.
Auntie Em knew Oscar came down for chores every day now. She no longer looked at Oscar with that same surprise as she had the first week. She still looked at him warmly, happy to see him.
It was a pattern now, a pattern Oscar knew like breathing. He still took it easy. His hands and body were still stiff and would burn like fire if he treated it wrong.
Auntie Em had changed his bandages again the night before. Oscar still couldn't look. She had said they were healing well. Oscar believed her, he knew well the healed scars he bore before. The uneven skin that would never quite be smooth again. Patches missing like valleys in his flesh. Oscar shivered, trying to put the image of the deeper, fresher wounds out of his mind.
"How are your books?" Auntie Em asked as they cleaned up.
Oscar pauses for a second, trying to figure out what she meant.
"From the library?" She prompted.
"Oh, right," Oscar said quickly, "I finished them. I got three, but I have so much time now that I uh… don't do as much…" Oscar trailed off and Auntie Em patted his shoulder quickly.
"You can get back to full work once you're fully healed, Oscar. There's nothing wrong with taking care of yourself," Auntie Em said, "No need for that guilty face."
Oscar smiled a bit, nodding. "Right, right."
"If you're really out of books," Auntie Em sighed, looking conflicted, "If I let you go today, be sure to get enough at least for the week."
Oscar grinned. Early. He could go early. Maybe, now that Oz knew that he was trying to contact him, he would see it today. At the very least, he could respond. Start talking to him. Figure this out.
"Okay okay," Auntie Em patted his head, "breakfast first and then I'll turn you loose. Just remember-"
"I'll be back by sunset," Oscar promised, "And I'll be very very careful."
She smiled and kissed his forehead.
Oscar ran for the first few minutes towards town but eventually slowed down to a brisk walk, his entire body buzzing. This was it. It was the real start.
One year, five months, and 18 days.
He had one year, five months, and 18 days.
Contact was likely made. It was going to be slow going, but Oscar hoped his hint would be enough to get Ozpin to take him seriously. Maybe in two weeks, if all went well, Ozpin would have some idea of who we was. Oscar had to be careful, but maybe if he dropped hints well enough it would only take two weeks. Five tops.
Maybe in two months, he could convince Ozpin to meet with him. Without the worry of Salem's hacking, Oscar could explain everything. After that… After that, Oscar wasn't sure. Preventing the Fall of Beacon would keep Ozpin from dying and thus, Oscar becoming Oz's next incarnation. Or maybe just putting it off. Even if it was just putting it off, Ozpin could fix the problems, take Lionheart off of his seat in Mistral and keep Ironwood from-
Oscar's steps faltered as he absently touched his chest. The echo of the gunshot-
Oscar quickly swallowed the feeling. No. No, if the Fall never happened, Ironwood wouldn't become so extreme. He wouldn't be a danger, he means well.
Oscar forced his feet forward, to keep going.
One year, five months, and 18 days.
One year, five months, and 18 days.
As Oscar approached town, his pace picked up again. He walked through the quiet streets, people passing him giving him no second look as Oscar made his way to the library. Oscar tugged the front door open, feeling the gush of cool air from inside as he slipped indoors.
Aliya was at the desk again and smiled when Oscar met her eyes.
"Why good morning there, back so soon?" She said as Oscar walked up to the desk and took the books out of his backpack.
"Yeah, I read them a bit too quickly, I'll need to check out a book or two more this time to take me the week," Oscar said, reaching up to put the books on the counter.
Aliya laughed, scanning the spines, "Oh the worst fate, running out of books. Come on in, Oscar."
Oscar smiled, zipping back up his backpack and walking to the back of the library. Just like five days ago, there wasn't anyone using the terminals this early. Oscar sat in the seat he had taken before and tucked his back under the desk. His heart pounded a bit with nerves as he pulled up the web and found the email site and glanced at his notebook to check the password.
There were three emails. All from Ozpin.
[RE: Please Respond Soon]
[Please Respond Soon]
[RE: I'm hoping to speak to you]
Barely holding back from trembling, Oscar opened the oldest email. It was sent at 5:15 on the same day that the original email had been sent. An hour after Oscar had left the library. Ozpin had just missed him.
[Oscar,
you have my attention, although I am not entirely sure what you mean by "there are eyes watching" but I will assume that your channel is not secure. I have to ask, how did you decide on such an email address?
Professor Ozpin]
Okay, so the email address had worked. Good.
Oscar opened the second one. It was sent a day after the first.
[Oscar,
I assume by your previous message and lack of response that my previous correspondence was too late. Unfortunately, I fear our times of the day are rather different. I get the impression that this is very important and I would like to hear from you as soon as possible.
Best regards,
Professor Ozpin]
The third one that was sent two days ago read.
[Hello again Oscar,
I hope these messages are reaching you. I had the impression that this was important the moment I saw your name, even leaving out the second half of your address. I have to ask, who are you?
Hope to hear from you soon,
Professor Ozpin]
Oscar froze. Ozpin knew something. It had to be vague to still be asking who Oscar was. But this was good. Ozpin had tried to reach out even after Oscar didn't reply. There was a chance.
Oscar pulled up a reply to the most recent email.
[Hello again Professor Ozpin, I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner, I don't have access to the web most days, which is why I hoped you would reply quickly. I didn't think about the time difference when I first sent the email, but I'm glad it still reached you. For my address, a good name for a weapon, don't you think? I think saying too much over where I'm not sure who might see it might be dangerous for me. I live in the same time zone as Mistral if that's helpful. I have some memory of you but we have never met. I hope that makes sense to you... Either way, I know someone is trying to get access to your techy stuff over in Beacon, but I don't know if it's worked yet, so I'd rather be careful. I only have a few hours, but if you don't catch me, I will be able to respond in a week. Thank you.]
Oscar rubbed his head as the notification flashed across the screen that it had sent. It was 10:30, so 3 in the morning again for Ozpin. Maybe in two hours? Or three?
Oscar logged out again, picked up his bag, and pushed the chair in. He'd give it two hours.
Chapter 6
"Is there a way to get notifications for a specific email address?" Ozpin asked.
James had a bemused expression on his face, thick brows knit together and mouth twisted into a frown.
"You are several thousand years old and you were a prominent inventor in a previous life and you come to me about email coding?" James gawked at him.
Ozpin fought not to let heat rise to his face. "This is all new , not things I am used to."
James bit his lip, the edges of his mouth twitching upwards.
"Don't hold yourself back at my expense," Ozpin said, narrowing his eyes at the call as James covered his mouth with a fist, coughed sharply, and then went back to sitting straight with his usual proper and ridged manor.
"What is this for? Couldn't you just give whoever you need to see the message of your scroll's number?" James said, obviously trying to change the subject.
"I can't, I do not believe this person has a scroll or I think this would be much easier. Beyond that, I don't know them personally, it might not be wise."
James rose his eyebrows at that. "Really? Then what makes you so eager to get their messages."
Ozpin clasped his hands tightly. "You're going to think it's ridiculous, but about a week ago, I woke up with a name in my head, a few days later I get an email with that name on it."
"That is rather hard to believe," James agreed, "Someone you knew before?"
Ozpin shook his head, "No, I just remembered their first name that day, and when I got the email with their full name it felt right. I had been going through every student and prominent figure with that name and I just knew that they weren't the right one. But I could tell that it was this one."
James actually frowned at that, face scrunching up in tense confusion. "But at the same time, you don't know them?"
"Yes, it's all very strange," Ozpin agreed, "Even stranger was everything else attached to this email. First thing I noticed besides the name was the email handle. It had 'Long Memory' in it."
James leaned back, seemingly thrown at that. "The name of your cane?" James said, "The same one you've had for lifetimes?"
"Yes. Then they asked if they could speak to me while also saying that 'eyes' were 'watching.'" Ozpin made quotes with his fingers at the words, "Like whatever they might have to tell me could be dangerous. That along with the name of my weapon..." Ozpin trailed off, fingers tensing.
"You think it has something to do with Salem?" James guessed, leaning back in his seat, "I see, quite a conundrum. What have they said so far?"
"Nothing. There has been no response to my reply. Or the one I sent after that," Ozpin's head sunk slightly, "They implied in their first message that if I didn't respond quickly, it would take time before they could respond. The email came in at three in the morning."
James nodded slowly, "I see the question about specific notifications now. Waiting up every night to catch them could be too exhausting."
"It's already taken a toll. A first-year asked me why I looked stressed the other day."
James actually snorted at that one. "Alright, I'll send you directions on how to set up a notification for messages from specific addresses. You are going to have to keep me updated on this mystery, Ozpin. It's quite an ordeal you've gotten yourself into."
"As if I don't already have enough of those," Ozpin groaned, "Thank you, James. I appreciate it."
And thus, Ozpin added a specific notification to his scroll for messages coming from Oscar Pine's email. It was a loud tone that would ignore the night mode that muted the rest of Ozpin's notifications.
So when Ozpin was jolted out of his sleep three days later by a loud noise, Ozpin was both excited and exhausted. He blindly fumbled for his scroll on the bedside table. He squints as the sudden bright light in the dark.
[Re:Re: Please Respond Soon]
Ozpin shuffled to sit up, unlocking his scroll to see the email.
[Hello again Professor Ozpin, I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner, I don't have access to the web most days, which is why I hoped you would reply quickly. I didn't think about the time difference when I first sent the email, but I'm glad it still reached you. For my address, a good name for a weapon, don't you think? I think saying too much over where I'm not sure who might see it might be dangerous for me. I live in the same time zone as Mistral if that's helpful. I have some memory of you but we have never met. I hope that makes sense to you... Either way, I know someone is trying to get access to your techy stuff over in Beacon, but I don't know if it's worked yet, so I'd rather be careful. I only have a few hours, but if you don't catch me, I will be able to respond in a week. Thank you.]
Ozpin had to blink a couple of times to see it clearly, and then a couple more times to read the message clearly.
So, Ozpin was right, Oscar Pine had few opportunities to email. And living in the Mistral time zone... maybe he lived in a village on the outskirts, maybe he had to get to the closest relay tower to get anything out, and that wasn't an option most days.
A good name for a weapon, don't you think?
A solid pointed answer. He really did know about the cane.
Someone was trying to hack into Beacon and Oscar knew about it and-
I have some memory of you but we have never met.
Ozpin kept going back to that line, staring at it. What could that mean? Someone who knew the previous Oz? Or maybe their child? One of the last Oz's kids who found heard everything from their parent?
Ozpin thought back. He hadn't known any "Pine"s closely in his previous incarnation. Much less one who would have a child of his. Ozpin griped a clump of his hair, he shouldn't jump to conclusions.
He pressed the reply button and began to type.
[Good morning then Oscar,
I'm glad to finally hear from you, I hope that now we are able to communicate- at least for a short time today.
I'm afraid I don't completely understand what you mean, but I get the impression that you know quite a bit about me. Would I be correct in that assumption?
Thank you for the warning, I will look into possible hacking and will tell you if we have found it to be safe, hopefully, that will make things easier.
I would also like to know what you wished to speak to me about.
Ozpin]
Ozpin sent the message out and then unceremoniously let himself fall back onto his bed. Three in the morning was too early for all of this.
Should he message Glynda? Maybe James? (Then again- it wasn't any better for James at 4 in the morning, even if he wasn't an early riser)
He groaned, forcing himself to roll out of bed. Ozpin shuffled to his small kitchen and begun to raid his fridge and cabinet again for hot chocolate ingredients. If he was going to be awake at an unholy hour, he was at least going to make it somewhat enjoyable. As Ozpin stood there in his small kitchen with the burner on, slowly stirring the pot so it doesn't burn, slowly watching the milk thicken until it was- as Glynda put it- "not a liquid anymore, that's not hot chocolate Ozpin that's a monster". It always took a while but at almost four in the morning- it was well worth it. Ozpin placed the saucepan in his fridge for a couple of minutes to cool down while he paced the kitchen for a while. Then his scroll pinged again.
[Oh gosh isn't it super early? I'm sorry! But I'm happy you're awake! Still sorry! Yes! I know a lot! I'm not sure how to put this in a way that you and I would both understand but someone else may not, just in case. Good that you're going to check that. I know it happens at some point. Just not sure if it's now or later. It is pretty early. I know some things that are supposed to happen and I don't want them to, but again, she might be watching and it's dangerous. Sorry again for waking you up so early!]
Ozpin almost dropped his scroll. His entire body froze.
Was Oscar... a defect from Salem? That would make sense. Oscar knew of her plans and was trying to warn Beacon. He had gotten information from Salem, he probably knew all about the relics, the maidens, himself- but somehow found himself no longer wanting to be a part of what Salem was doing, and trying to get a warning out. It was likely he was hiding away from her, putting himself in danger to get word out to Ozpin. Especially with some plan of Salem's to hack into Beacon. A very high risk, but a very brave one.
Ozpin exited out from his emails, reaching to call. Qrow was in Mistral somewhere right now with the Fall Maiden. Maybe Qrow could take on one more charge. Any defect of Salem wouldn't be a pushover, especially one who was able to escape. Oscar, a trained huntsman like Qrow, and a Maiden could protect themselves. Amber and Qrow together could escort Oscar to Beacon, and hopefully, he could be safe here and freely talk about Salem's plans.
Ozpin decided on a text first.
Ozpin
Qrow, I might have a second job for you. We may have a canary.
There were a few moments, maybe five minutes
Qrow
A canary? Never thought one would exist. Have to do with Queen?
Ozpin
Yes. It's looking to be so.
Qrow
Send me the info soon.
A pause. A typing notification.
Qrow
And this is a GOOD canary? We're not compromised?
Ozpin
Good for us. We're fine.
Qrow
Good. Just let me know when.
Ozpin smiled. An extraction obtained. Quite good for almost five in the morning. Now- just for the location