#so it is with considerable optimism I say they would still welcome her happily.

[gcrifin]

@autumnswordsman​ chirped:  Which Shadowlands faction would Lulu fit into? <33

     Aahh, the Shadowlands ─ a realm of souls, a realm of new beginnings. Four covenants stand as one, and the leaders and members therein are all tasked with varying ideals in regards to rebirthing souls and finding their potential place in their new, dedicated afterlife. There are but two of these eon-standing factions that earn dedication and interest from this sunshine-and-wicker Kul’tiran druid.

     The first are The Ascended ─ the kyrian of Bastion, tasked with the impartial judgement of souls that they might step foot onto countless worlds of past lives and ferry them into the Shadowlands. To achieve this, however, a right of rituals and cleansing of one’s memories and past lives are required for the greater good of the process, that one might ascend and carry out their duties without bias. While this does not quite apply to a living being caught in a myriad mix of souls, it is a questioned and challenged process, one which leaves Bastion in disarray. The Archon now questions the harshness of the path, as enemies who have ravaged their beautiful lands and rituals have done so in force, and perhaps looks to find a steady balance of lives new and old therein. Lulubelle would find no qualms calming those confused and lost on the way to their new lives, relishing in the atmosphere and loyal dedication. Every steward would be her best feathery friend, and to fly free carrying remnants of happy memories over sun-kissed plains just makes her heart sing.

     However, while that dedication, aesthetic, and what could be of the newforged path speaks volumes to one in love with the sky, there is another that speaks more personally. The night fae of Ardenweald, guarded by the Winter Queen and The Wild Hunt, rebirth nature souls into service from delicately cultivated seeds and cradles. Those with a connection to the wilds find hearth and service in the lovely, yet deceptively dangerous forests teeming with glowing fauna and wildlife. The fae are a fun, sly sort, basking in the excitement of good fun, turning amusement into retaliation when threats encroach upon the wilds. They put on theatrical plays of past lives to appease their Queen and teach of other worlds, express dedication in song, and lend a nurturing touch to those that would protect nature and all of its children ─ from demi-gods to the smallest of birds singing in the night. Lulubelle finds solace in wild adventures, in memories, in a playful nature bright enough to blind the unfortunate denizens of The Maw. Her cunning and fun-loving personality finds a personable place among the fae, their hyperbolic dramatizations, good times, and all. But when the time comes that they must defend, they waste little time in routing threats with a feral fury. It is in those wild woods that her spirit finds a home, not so unlike the one she came from. 

     So long as they find no dissonance in her druidic connection with the Drust, it is within their ranks that she fits most comfortably.

[itsmyusualphannie]

you had me at hydrangea

Chapter 2/6 - take it or leaf it

“I want him to see the flowers in my eyes and hear the songs in my hands.” ― Francesca Lia Block, Dangerous Angels

a phan flower shop/video editor au

(read on ao3) - start from the beginning!

previous chapter | next chapter

~~~

It was raining, Phil noticed as he opened the curtains in his sitting room. Not a downpour, but a steady drizzle that looked like it could go on for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. His aloe vera plant on the windowsill seemed droopy at the lack of sunlight and Phil gave its leaves a sympathetic stroke.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured it. It just looked sadder.

The timer in the kitchen beeped loudly and Phil hurried back to turn off the coffeemaker. It loved to malfunction if he didn’t cater immediately to its demands. Once, when he had forgotten that he’d turned it on, and was listening to music in his bedroom while he cleaned, he had emerged from his room to find the coffeemaker sputtering happily away as it spat, burning liquid all over the kitchen floor. He still had no idea how it had happened.

He got to it now, just in time before it started gurgling dangerously. He collected a travel mug from the counter high above the sink and filled it, splashing in a generous amount of milk and sugar and stirring more violently than it warranted.

Keys dangling between his teeth, Phil grabbed his computer bag from the counter and hauled it over one shoulder, then shouldered through the front door with the coffee balanced in his hand. He somehow managed not to drop anything as he fumbled the items so he could lock the door.

It was Thursday again, and that meant almost no customers at the flower shop. It was a perfect day, albeit a wet one, to work on his project. He realized, after he had already trudged down the stairs and out onto the street, that he had forgotten his umbrella, but it wasn’t raining too badly and he didn’t feel like going the three flights back up to get it. The shop was only a few blocks away, anyway.

It was fortunate that his computer bag was waterproof, as Phil himself was dripping steadily by the time he reached his destination. The flower display out front appeared perky from the rain, soft petals beaded with droplets of moisture. Phil brushed a finger over one, scattering raindrops, and then pushed open the door to go inside. It was instantly warmer than the cool air outside, a gentle draft wrapping around Phil. He brushed wet hair out of his eyes and glanced around.

“Phil!” said Dan, sounding pleased. He always did, as though he was surprised that Phil was still showing up.

“Dan!” Phil rejoined. He reached the table in the corner and set down his bag and coffee mug. The mug clacked loudly against the wooden surface. “Do you mind if I sit here to work?”

“Not at all,” said Dan. He was again swaying dangerously on the stool behind the counter, a pencil dangling between his loose fingers and papers sprawled on the surface in front of him. His hair was especially curly today, Phil noticed.

“Have you had many customers?” asked Phil.

“No,” Dan said, not sounding sorry about it. “It’s very slow today. I’m trying to write to pass the time.”

“Oh, nice,” said Phil, and didn’t pursue the topic though he urgently wanted to know more about it, more about Dan. But Dan didn’t like talking about whatever it was that he constantly scribbled at, sighed over angrily, and eventually crumpled to throw in the trash bin under the counter.

Dan sighed, as Phil thought he would, and looked down at the papers littering the counter. “I guess.” He circled something on one with a casual flick of his wrist and his gaze came back up to Phil. “You’re soaked,” he noted.

“Yes, it’s raining,” Phil said, rather pointlessly, as they could both hear the pattering sound coming from outside. “And I forgot my umbrella.” He wiped fingers through his damp hair again, wishing suddenly that he had done something with it other than the usual quiff. It poked up in odd places now, no doubt, rebelling against the humidity.

“You’re hopeless,” Dan said, but he was smiling. “How did the...er, the housewarming party go? Last Friday?”

“Oh!” said Phil. He had almost forgotten about it, bizarrely, in his excitement to see Dan again. “It went well. We all got ridiculously drunk and I had to sleep over. I wanted to say thanks for the flower suggestion. They loved them.”

Dan waved a hand dismissively. “I literally looked up the meaning you asked for on Google. I told you, I know nothing about flowers.”

“Really, thanks,” Phil insisted, remembering PJ’s and Sophie’s delighted reactions over the bouquet of beautiful sunflowers, right before they had both begun to tease him about his ‘flower boy.’

“Fine, you’re welcome,” Dan said, sounding reluctant.

“Good.” Phil felt like he’d won an important argument, even though they hadn’t been arguing at all. Dan glanced down at the counter and Phil thought maybe he had been looking too intensely at him again. He looked away hastily and pulled out his computer, struggling with getting it plugged in like usual.

There was silence for a few minutes as Phil opened the files on his computer and sorted through them, then Dan spoke.

“Do you only ever come here during the afternoons?”

Phil was a little surprised, but it wasn’t as if he’d ever actually told Dan that he only came to see him. There wouldn’t be much point coming by when Louise was the only one working. His computer was an excellent excuse to sit in the corner and sneak glances at Dan from time to time without appearing creepy. “Yes,” he replied because he didn’t know what else to say. “I mean...my schedule works like that. I’m not a morning person.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Neither am I,” Dan admitted. “That’s why I only work afternoons and evenings. Louise takes all of the morning shifts because she knows I’d never be here on time.”

Phil thought despondently that that was a very considerate thing for a girlfriend to do, but he would probably do the same thing if he had Dan. “Oh. So that’s why I see her so rarely,” he said, as if he didn’t plan out his visits to just see Dan.

Dan nodded in agreement but said nothing else and the conversation trailed away. Phil clicked at his laptop, all at once hating himself for wanting Dan so much that it ached at him. The minutes passed in silence. Phil wasn’t actually very productive, but then again, he never really was when he could be catching glimpses of Dan out of the corner of his eye instead of editing video clips.

The door swept open with a burst of cool air and the scent of rain, and Phil almost jumped at the suddenness of it in the quiet of the shop. A rotund, dripping man plodded inside, his shoes squeaking against the tile floor. The door closed quietly behind him.

“Good afternoon!” the man said cheerfully, to both Dan and Phil. “How are you today?”

“Er, fine,” said Phil, indescribably awkward as the man’s small eyes scrunched at his answer.

Dan had not replied, and he still said nothing, hunched over the counter. “How can I help you?” he finally said, seeming fatigued with only those few words.

The man didn’t seem bothered by his lack of courtesy. “I would like some flowers!” he said. “Something romantic.”

“Roses are the typical choice,” Dan droned, gesturing at the tubs on the wall, “and tulips or lilacs are also an excellent choice for a partner. Would you like help in choosing a colour?”

“Those pink ones!”

Dan glanced toward where the man had pointed. He seemed like he wanted to say something, Phil noticed, but he didn’t and instead took the pink bouquet out of its tub. Phil turned his attention back to his project as Dan wrapped the flowers and completed the transaction, polite, but clearly bored. The man collected his purchase and left the shop as cheerfully as he had come.

As silence descended upon them once more, Phil remembered that he had to buy flowers as well. That was, supposedly, why he came here, after all. He swept his mind frantically and then recalled with a sudden relief that he was going to the Isle of Man that weekend to see his parents. “Flowers!” he blurted and was startled by the loudness of his tone in the shop. For the second time in as many minutes, he felt terribly awkward.

Dan didn’t seem to mind, looking up from the papers that he had been staring at unmovingly. “Yes,” was all he said, prompting.

“For my mum,” Phil said, feeling a blush starting to burn at his cheeks. “I’m going to see my parents. I need to bring some flowers.”

Dan had propped his chin in one hand, watching Phil closely with an expression that only made Phil’s face feel hotter. The loose black shirt that he was wearing dipped at his movement, baring pale skin. “Flowers for your mum?”

“Yes,” Phil said, refusing to feel embarrassed. His cheeks weren’t getting the memo. “She likes them.”

“No, no, that’s sweet,” said Dan. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were deep with mirth. “What kind of flowers does she like?”

“Er, daisies. And carnations. But I want to get her something different this time.” Phil hesitated. His eyes fell pathetically on the slope of Dan’s slender neck and the jut of his delicate collarbones. He felt wobbly at the sight of them, as though they made Dan seem more vulnerable somehow. “Is there anything you would recommend?”

Dan looked exasperated at being put on the spot, but after a long moment, he smiled widely. “Yes,” he said. “Chrysanthemums.” He pulled a phone out from under the counter and typed away at it for a few seconds before announcing, “They symbolize optimism and joy. If your mum is anything like you, they’re perfect for her.”

Phil’s face, which had been cooling back to its normal colour, burned again at the subtle compliment. “That sounds good,” he said weakly.

Dan returned the phone and dropped his chin back into his hand, resting his elbow on the counter. The stool creaked ominously underneath him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Also, chrysanthemum. Great pun material.”

Phil laughed, appreciating that immensely. Dan looked pleased with himself.

“So when are you visiting them? They live on the Isle of Man, you said once?”

“Yes,” Phil agreed. “I’ll probably go on Friday and stay until Sunday or Monday. My brother and his girlfriend are going to be there as well. They’ve both got some time off from their jobs and - well, you know. I can take time off whenever I want, as long as I get my assignments in on time.”

Dan seemed actually interested in what Phil was saying, which was a striking contrast to his wearied attitude with the customer. Phil was ridiculously flattered and despised himself for it. “How often do you visit them?” Dan asked.

“Every month or so, at least. It’s weird not seeing them all the time. I told you I lived with them for a year after I graduated while I was trying to get a job, right?”

“Hmm.” Dan considered it. “No, I don’t think you did.”

“Oh, well. I did. I turned down a pretty big job offer because I wanted to freelance, and I regretted it for a while, but then I found this opportunity. It’s amazing - I get to work by myself like I wanted, but it’s technically a regular job.” Phil touched his mouse pad to keep the computer screen from dimming and he stared at the folders that were open when he spoke again. “Anyway, yeah. I moved up here when I got this job. I do have to go to meetings occasionally, but it’s great.”

“I bet,” Dan hummed. “How did your parents take it?”

Phil snorted with laughter. “Oh, I’m sure they were glad to finally get me out of the house. Actually, they moved a few months after I moved out. That’s why they live on the Isle of Man now. I mean, my mum calls a lot and she says she misses me, but...you know. I guess parents want freedom from their kids too.”

“Probably,” Dan said. His expression was pensive.

“What about your parents?” Phil asked, desperate to keep the conversation going. 

“Oh, they’re...parents.” Dan huffed, a small smile on his face. “I don’t have quite the same relationship with them that you have with your parents. I mean, I go back for Christmas. Their birthdays and mine, sometimes.” He had been leaning far over the counter, but when the subject changed to his own family, he sat back, barely managing to keep his balance on the stool.

Phil thought maybe he should ask about Louise’s family and how Dan got along with them, but he didn’t actually want to know. He felt Dan would get along great with Martyn and his own mum. He’d probably never be able to find out. “That’s fine,” he said, forcing his thoughts back to the topic of Dan’s parents. “Not everyone has to get along well with their parents.”

“Yeah,” Dan agreed, peering down again at the papers in front of him. He traced a long finger over one and his face twisted in displeasure at it. He crumpled it and tossed it out of Phil’s sight, under the counter and presumably into the trash bin. “So. Chrysanthemums. What’s your mum’s favourite colour?”

Phil accepted the subject change, shifting in his seat to glance over the rows of colourful flowers that lined the walls in racks and tubs. “Which ones do you have?”

Dan almost fell off his seat standing up. He sounded put out when he said, “Too many. Louise goes overboard. Here, this is the shelf with them.”

Wondering if he was supposed to walk over to the rack of flowers by the door, Phil stood anyway and made his way over. Dan pulled a perky yellow flower out of a tub and offered it to Phil, who took it with trepidation.

“Yellow,” Dan said. “Also,” he brushed a hand over the others to demonstrate, “pink, purple, blue, and this multi-coloured one. You could get a bunch of different colours, or just one colour in a bouquet.”

This close, Phil could clearly see the little freckles dotting Dan’s face and the silver hoop in his ear. He looked so much softer here, rubbing a thumb over sensitive petals, than he did behind the counter seeming vaguely distant and in his own head. Phil was struck by the urge to press his fingers into Dan’s cheeks until his dimples appeared again. He realized he was subconsciously reaching out for Dan and he snatched his hand back before Dan could see the movement.

“What do you think?” Dan asked. He had plucked a few flowers and crushed them together in a tight grip. The flowers drooped sadly at the mistreatment.

Phil looked at them. “More blue,” he suggested.

Dan added more blue flowers. Phil had to agree that it was very pretty, and he told Dan as much. Dan’s face crinkled and his dimples materialized. Phil willfully resisted adding that Dan was prettier.

“I can keep them for you until you leave if you want,” Dan said. He tugged a few more flowers from the bin and added them to the bristling bunch of colour. Phil handed him the yellow flower than Dan had given him earlier, and Dan poked it into the middle of the bouquet.

“Okay,” Phil said.

“Okay,” Dan said back. He went back behind the counter and flourished scissors and ribbons, snipping at the blossoms and tying them together. He had finished and dropped them in a vase of murky-looking water by the time Phil realized that he was just standing there watching Dan work.

Phil hurried back to his seat in the corner. His computer had gone dark and he hit a few keys until it lit up again. “Er, I guess I’ll work on this,” he said sheepishly.

Dan slid back onto his seat. He was still smiling as he ducked his head and pushed at the papers scattered on the counter. “I guess I’ll work on this.”

Phil again wondered what Dan was doing with those papers. He hoped he would find out eventually. Bending his head and going back to the computer, Phil was soothed by the occasional, distant scratching of a pencil against paper.

Phil reached the halfway point of his assignment and Dan didn’t throw away any more papers that day. Phil felt like they’d both accomplished something important.

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[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Vol. 5. Necessary Sacrifice

This is a re-posting from Nov. 11th, 2017 in an effort to get all my recaps fully on tumblr. Thanks!

This week’s lunch special is pure angst with a side of bittersweet hope. Though “Unforeseen Consequences” might have been an unexpectedly funny episode, things are really heading south when you’ve got a title like “Necessary Sacrifice.”

The fandom said that things would start getting darker by Episode 5 and here we are.

We begin with Blake, continuing the strategy of cycling through a main character each week while still leaving time for Ruby. She and Sun are attempting to recruit people to help defend Haven and it’s going about as well as you’d expect. From mothers pulling their sons back indoors to faunus straight up telling them to get lost, by the end of a long afternoon neither of them have anything to show for their efforts. Despite the faunus-specific situation here, I wonder if Qrow will encounter similar problems as he tries to recruit other huntsmen and huntresses. The residents of Menagerie can’t be the only ones who want to ignore this war (or straight up believe it doesn't exist) and it would be a convenient way of ensuring that the battles continue to rest on the shoulders of the kids. Similar to The Legend of Korra, RWBY raises questions as to why children continue to do the work of adults. Like Harry Potter, the show will need to keep coming up with decent excuses.

Blake raises an important consideration though: “Not everyone is like you and me.” We’ve been given a series focused on the soldiers of this world and thus it’s easy to forget that everyone else surrounding them isn’t going to happily charge into a fight like Team RWBY is. Most people—the faunus in particular—will do everything they can do avoid getting involved. The fact that it's Blake leading this charge, "cowardly" Blake with a semblance that literally lets her run away, does a lot to show her own character growth. More than that though, we’re reminded that RWBY/RNJR aren’t even like other huntsmen and huntresses. The Fall of Beacon changed them and taught an incredibly difficult lesson: that Salem doesn’t care if you think you’re a part of this war or not. Blake says that the people of Menagerie will be affected no matter what their decision is. Later Ruby reiterates that even innocents like Penny will be killed in this battle. You’re in danger whether you fight or whether you stay on the sidelines… so you might as well take up arms and do what you can.

Sun and Blake’s conversation was, at its core, another callback to the early volumes, notably their first café conversation. It’s a mellow scene with the talk broken up with slice-of-life looks around Menagerie, highlighting the diversity among the faunus race. I would have appreciated the aesthetics and mood of this scene a whole lot more if Sun hadn’t devolved into someone I’ve come to actively dislike. Blake expresses how appreciative she is that Sun was there for her even when she didn’t want him to be and says that she wants to help her friends, “The way you helped me.”

God no. I ranted about this briefly in my last recap, but Sun’s actions should not be romanticized like this. Being there for someone means remaining open and supportive, available (to the best of your ability) for when they decide they want your help. Granted, the exception to this is situations wherein someone needs intervention for their own or another's safety, but Blake is absolutely not in that position. Part of being supportive is providing someone with the space they ask for and Sun 100% did not do this. He stalked Blake without her permission. Did not leave when she told him to. Horned in on her private family life despite numerous signs—both overt and subtle—that he was not welcome there. The fact that Blake now does want him around doesn’t excuse his earlier, pushy arrogance. And the fact that she’s thanking him for it puts a real sour taste in my mouth. It’s far too reminiscent of all the men who continually demand a woman’s attention because they know “what’s best” for her, or they’re convinced she “secretly wants it.” Sun has had no respect for Blake’s boundaries these past few months and he does not deserve to be rewarded for that egotism now.

Regardless, that’s just one uncomfortable moment in an otherwise nice scene. I laughed at Blake's speech about personification, given that I’d just taught Citizen Kane to a bunch of intro film students. Can you sum up a person’s life and personality with just one word? Blake thinks you can. Ruby is purity, Weiss is defiance, Yang is strength…and Adam, after long consideration, is spite. It’s an assessment I think most can agree with. As Blake lays out, Adam has no desire for equality or justice. He’s out to hurt humanity as much as possible, regardless of how much of that vengeance they actually deserve.

Continuing Blake and Ruby’s parallels this episode, Ruby showcases her purity by having a candid (and long overdue) conversation with Oscar. Like Jaune, Oscar seems to be doing a lot of training on his own (numerous parallels between them too—I hope they interact more) and he admits that even though it’s only been a few weeks, he feels as if he’s been working with Ozpin's cane for a lifetime, maybe more. Beyond reminding us that Oscar and Ozpin are continuing to merge, this helps situate the viewer in Volume 5’s stupidly complex timeline. In all honesty I could continue to do without this non-linearity. It’s jarring to start an episode as if only a day or two has passed (first training last episode), only to learn through offhand comments that it’s been weeks instead. RWBY isn’t the sort of show that benefits from feelings of displacement and it would be better served using something like a more traditional training montage.

Then things get heavy. The conversation is mostly small talk until Ruby exclaims that Oscar will be combat ready soon. I’m so glad people have already GIFed this moment because Ruby’s expressions here are heart-wrenching.

Ruby: “Penny...” 

No one—viewers and characters alike—were expecting that punch to the gut. To say nothing of the fact that Ruby loved and listened to Penny enough to pick up on her favorite catchphrase. This moment starts a much more intimate conversation wherein Oscar expresses, through anger and fear, what most people have been thinking for four volumes now: how the hell can Ruby be so optimistic? People have tried to kill this girl, succeeded in murdering her friends, forced her out of her home, separated her from family, and dumped her in the middle of a war. Isn’t she scared?

Well of course she is. I’ve argued from the start the Ruby is wiser than most give her credit for and we get an excellent demonstration of this here. Beyond reiterating Blake’s views from earlier—that they’re in danger whether they keep moving forward or crawl into a panicky ball—she drops the bombshell that being recklessly brave isn’t going to save anyone. In fact, it actively got Pyrrha killed. I love that the show finally acknowledged this because as brave as Pyrrha was for standing up to Cinder, that bravery was stupid. She knew she couldn’t defeat a Maiden and fighting her achieved nothing overall. The only reason Pyrrha went up to that tower was because it was the “right” thing to do… but in fact, the better thing to do would have been to hold back, to survive and live to fight another day. 

Ruby gets that. For all her niceties and optimism, she understands Pyrrha’s fatal flaw: there’s a difference between playing the hero and being a strategic member of a team. It flies in the face of everyone who claims she hasn’t grown (remember the girl who tried to take on the deathstalker alone during initiation?) and it just solidifies my feelings regarding her decision to enter Qrow’s fight with Tyrian. That was also a stupid decision based on what we know now, but the point is Ruby didn’t have all that information--she was making a strategic choice on what she thought she knew. Ruby isn’t out to sacrifice herself for the sake of sacrifice. Does she make mistakes? Of course, but she’s a lot more self-aware than most would assume at first glance. She's out to win, not just turn herself into a martyr.

Ozpin says it himself, “She really is remarkable, isn’t she?” yet when Oscar agrees in this sort of awed voice, commenting that she must have been one of the best huntresses at Beacon, Ozpin is quick to clarify that Ruby has faults just like anyone else. What makes her special is that “spark,” her ability to inspire others even in the face of extraordinary odds. It's her optimism and leadership (among other traits) that make her great--but they certainly don't make her perfect.  

This comment of Ozpin’s was so reassuring. Yes, I’m also frustrated that no one is talking about Ruby’s silver eyes (I’d have demanded an explanation months ago??) but at least we have even more confirmation that Ozpin doesn’t just view Ruby as his secret weapon. This conversation could have easily ended with him making vague references to how powerful and important Ruby is. Instead Ozpin teaches Oscar that no one can be put up on a pedestal. Say what you want about Ozpin’s archetype and supposed manipulation. I firmly believe he was telling the truth when he told James ages back that he didn’t want his kids fighting a war. It’s just too bad that they have to.

Our last scene is the one everyone was waiting for. News has reached the fox brothers of Sienna’s assassination and when they refer to her as a “necessary sacrifice” everyone breathed a sigh of relief. That is, until the Belladonnas are also labeled a “necessary sacrifice” and everyone panicked. Our new winged faunus guy might have intercepted the messenger with news of Sienna’s death, but they can’t keep it a secret from Menagerie forever. When this gets out the tide might just turn in Ghira’s favor… so the whole family, with the exception of Blake, is to be killed. And Ilia is the perfect person to carry this out.

Frankly, I don’t think she’ll do it. The show has spent too much time framing her as a sympathetic character, someone really on the fence about her loyalties, and you can see the pure shock and hesitation on Illia’s face when she hears the news. The real question though is, if she does turn to Blake’s side, will her double-status be enough to save the Belladonnas? We dodged Qrow's death last Volume. Is it time then for another casualty?

The only real silver lining here is that if they do die it’ll probably happen off screen where we can ignore it. After all, it’s only the red-haired, green-eyed characters who get the gruesome deaths lol. Still waiting to see if that's just some morbid inside joke or if we'll ever get an in-universe explanation...

One final note regarding this episode: is anyone else highly suspicious of Oscar’s backpack? It’s not as if he’s wandered far to train—Ruby comes right downstairs to grab him for dinner. Yet here he is with his stuff all packed up. Oscar leans his cane with the other weapons, cries, and then packs it up as well, donning the backpack with his most precious possession inside, something that is entirely unnecessary if you’re just walking upstairs to dinner. The fact that this scene takes place with an open wall that leads outside, the fact that we cut with Oscar still standing in the middle of the room… it makes me nervous. Maybe Ozpin has a special mission for them. Maybe Oscar (despite Ruby’s comment that he’s braver than he thinks) is planning to leave….

…or maybe they just needed something for him to do while they had a long, intimate conversation. That’s always possible too.

Until next week!

Other Details of Note

Mermaid faunus confirmed.

Winged faunus CONFIRMED.

Oscar says that the only fighting he’s done is against small Grimm that, presumably, try and attack the farm. This raises a lot of questions regarding how strong a Remnant civilian is. Can everyone fight off one or two regular Grimm? Does Oscar’s farm work give him the kind of strength he needs to, I don’t know, stab something evil with a pitchfork? I remain supremely curious about what the average, non-fighter is capable of in this world.

Both Ruby and Oscar got to cry a bit during their conversation. Kudos. Keep letting the kids cry.

I also appreciate that it was a conversation between Oscar and Ruby. Ozpin may not literally be able to get away, but at least he has the tact to hang back and pretend that the conversation is private.

Adam is... definitely "unwell." Nice choice in language though. The fox brothers want to "silence" the Belladonnas whereas Adam straight up says to "slaughter" them. He's becoming more unhinged with each passing episode.