[ It's a few days later before she approaches him to begin as they had previously discussed. In a green area, open but reasonably secluded. They're not likely to suffer anyone else caught in their crossfire, here.
Unlike back on Remnant, her equipment leaves much to be desired. Without the benefit of a support structure happy to supply resources - her school, her mother, the comfort of being a minor - she's had to make due with scraping the bottom of the barrel, so to speak. Miló and Akoúo̱ are gone. They're not coming back. She has to work with what is available to her, and that hardly includes advanced craftsmanship and rare metals, or the money to partake in either of those things. Her javelin (named the Alligatulinator by Nora some months ago) is bent and cheap, clearly secondhand. Her shield was acquired some weeks later, stolen from pirates. These things happen.
As for armor, well. She doesn't wear that, either. It's too expensive to purchase when she has to consider three square meals, a roof over her head. More importantly, it hadn't helped her at all when facing Cinder. Nothing at Pyrrha's disposal had saved her, in the end. Why be weighed down by the ineffectual? The loose clothes she's taken to in Emp will serve her just fine.
So, on a cooler morning, ready to work. Here's Pyrrha.
[ similarly, ozpin appears as he typically does -- dressed as he always is, with his cane. no additional armor or anything like that. he arches his eyebrows slightly, at pyrrha's appearance, but belatedly, and reflectively, he seems to realize on his own that she likely arrived with nothing, given what happened to her, on top of the tower at beacon.
besides. learning how to fight without those enhancements is crucial, to survive. sometimes, you may not have your favorite weapon on hand. and ozpin considers that for a moment before he offers pyrrha a smile, and he, too, offers his hand in a slight wave. ]
Good morning, Pyrrha. [ warmly, and he moves forward, to meet her halfway, his cane navigating through the grass as he walks forward. he had considered, briefly, immediately beginning -- but taking things slowly, he thinks, would be best, considering the last time pyrrha likely fought in serious combat against a huntsmen or huntress ended . . . poorly, to say the least. ] Do you have any questions, or concerns, for me, before we begin?
[ Poorly, yes. Since then, she's faced Jaune a few times... but, let's be honest, he hardly provides a challenge for her. Combat with him is tame and routine, an easy warm-up. (Of course, she would never say such a thing to his face.)
So, Jaune. Various monsters around this island, and others. It's not the same as Grimm. It's not the same as Cinder, who was... Well.
Pyrrha's brow furrows, face scrunching up. It doesn't affect her prettiness much, in the end. ]
Are... you going to be alright, Professor? [ An additional question: ] Is this your first fight after - after her?
[ he pauses, at her question, and for a moment, his expression shows some level of gratitude -- not because ozpin needs checking on, but because pyrrha is thoughtful enough to ask. and it seems to indicate a bigger question -- that, perhaps, pyrrha has run into trouble before, and thought to ask because of her own experiences.
so he rests both of his hands on the top of his cane, to consider her question, before answering. ]
Miss Schnee, incidentally, wanted to learn of a way to conserve her aura in battle, and asked how I manage in combat. We had a minor combat lesson.
[ mildly enough. he will not mention that she landed one (1) hit. that can be weiss' victory to share with her friends. ]
I will be fine, Pyrrha -- but I thank you, for asking. A Huntsmen cannot fight properly if his mind is elsewhere, and answering that question first is half the battle, particularly after something devastating has occurred.
[ self-care is key, man. but after that little quip of knowledge, he inclines his head toward her. ]
... [ A soft breath, not quite a sigh. ] In a sense.
[ There's only one way to explain. Plainly, she continues, ]
I didn't want to lose my sense of self, so when Jaune asked me to fight at his side - here - I jumped at the chance. But ... I'm afraid it's not the same.
[ On the tower with Cinder, she'd had no partner. There had been mountainous struggle, the likes of which she'd never known before. Her muscles had trembled, given up. She had not paid attention to the status of her Aura until it shattered around her. In her life, in this strange after, it will always be something that has changed her.
He's correct. It was devastating, even if she never admits it. ]
[ there's a soft noise of understanding, at pyrrha's explanation, and ozpin considers that for a moment before he shifts his weight a little, and he spins his cane, flipping it neatly so he catches it in his hand, to wield it like a sword. ]
You cannot enter into combat without having confidence you can win, even if the odds are completely against you, and defeat may be all but inevitable.
[ he pauses, to look at his cane, expression relatively unreadable before he looks at pyrrha, his gaze slightly softened. ]
There is no easy answer, in continuing, other than to know that it will never be the same -- and it not being the same can be used to your advantage. A strength, not a weakness, while we are here. And that will certainly not happen overnight, but i can promise you that it will happen, with time.
[ The edge of his cane protrudes outward, held aloft and not quite close to her face. Pyrrha, for her part, doesn't even blink. His words are the more important thing; she gives them her full attention.
It's not that she lacks confidence, just that she's crippled with realism. She no longer believes in the myth of her own immortality like so many adolescents. And this, this surreal landscape, this impossible city? It's a halfway house, a pause between life and what comes after, maybe even a wish granted. It's a kindness, in some form, but kindness cannot hold back a falling building with two hands. Pyrrha doesn't tell him (like she doesn't tell anyone) that she barely believes she's alive somedays, and this may all be moot.
Because, on a good day, she believes all of it. That a miracle was granted, even though she hardly deserves it, and that her future is limitless. That there's merit in this.
His promise is so simple. Pyrrha looks comprehending, and her own weapon slips easily into her hand.
... She waits for his permission to begin, before anything. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action.
Unlike back on Remnant, her equipment leaves much to be desired. Without the benefit of a support structure happy to supply resources - her school, her mother, the comfort of being a minor - she's had to make due with scraping the bottom of the barrel, so to speak. Miló and Akoúo̱ are gone. They're not coming back. She has to work with what is available to her, and that hardly includes advanced craftsmanship and rare metals, or the money to partake in either of those things. Her javelin (named the Alligatulinator by Nora some months ago) is bent and cheap, clearly secondhand. Her shield was acquired some weeks later, stolen from pirates. These things happen.
As for armor, well. She doesn't wear that, either. It's too expensive to purchase when she has to consider three square meals, a roof over her head. More importantly, it hadn't helped her at all when facing Cinder. Nothing at Pyrrha's disposal had saved her, in the end. Why be weighed down by the ineffectual? The loose clothes she's taken to in Emp will serve her just fine.
So, on a cooler morning, ready to work. Here's Pyrrha.
Awkwardly, she lifts a hand in a wave. ]
Good morning, Professor.
action.
besides. learning how to fight without those enhancements is crucial, to survive. sometimes, you may not have your favorite weapon on hand. and ozpin considers that for a moment before he offers pyrrha a smile, and he, too, offers his hand in a slight wave. ]
Good morning, Pyrrha. [ warmly, and he moves forward, to meet her halfway, his cane navigating through the grass as he walks forward. he had considered, briefly, immediately beginning -- but taking things slowly, he thinks, would be best, considering the last time pyrrha likely fought in serious combat against a huntsmen or huntress ended . . . poorly, to say the least. ] Do you have any questions, or concerns, for me, before we begin?
action.
So, Jaune. Various monsters around this island, and others. It's not the same as Grimm. It's not the same as Cinder, who was... Well.
Pyrrha's brow furrows, face scrunching up. It doesn't affect her prettiness much, in the end. ]
Are... you going to be alright, Professor? [ An additional question: ] Is this your first fight after - after her?
action.
so he rests both of his hands on the top of his cane, to consider her question, before answering. ]
Miss Schnee, incidentally, wanted to learn of a way to conserve her aura in battle, and asked how I manage in combat. We had a minor combat lesson.
[ mildly enough. he will not mention that she landed one (1) hit. that can be weiss' victory to share with her friends. ]
I will be fine, Pyrrha -- but I thank you, for asking. A Huntsmen cannot fight properly if his mind is elsewhere, and answering that question first is half the battle, particularly after something devastating has occurred.
[ self-care is key, man. but after that little quip of knowledge, he inclines his head toward her. ]
May I ask the same of you?
action.
[ There's only one way to explain. Plainly, she continues, ]
I didn't want to lose my sense of self, so when Jaune asked me to fight at his side - here - I jumped at the chance. But ... I'm afraid it's not the same.
[ On the tower with Cinder, she'd had no partner. There had been mountainous struggle, the likes of which she'd never known before. Her muscles had trembled, given up. She had not paid attention to the status of her Aura until it shattered around her. In her life, in this strange after, it will always be something that has changed her.
He's correct. It was devastating, even if she never admits it. ]
action.
You cannot enter into combat without having confidence you can win, even if the odds are completely against you, and defeat may be all but inevitable.
[ he pauses, to look at his cane, expression relatively unreadable before he looks at pyrrha, his gaze slightly softened. ]
There is no easy answer, in continuing, other than to know that it will never be the same -- and it not being the same can be used to your advantage. A strength, not a weakness, while we are here. And that will certainly not happen overnight, but i can promise you that it will happen, with time.
[ it did, with ozpin. it will, with pyrrha. ]
action. screeches I lost the notif!!
It's not that she lacks confidence, just that she's crippled with realism. She no longer believes in the myth of her own immortality like so many adolescents. And this, this surreal landscape, this impossible city? It's a halfway house, a pause between life and what comes after, maybe even a wish granted. It's a kindness, in some form, but kindness cannot hold back a falling building with two hands. Pyrrha doesn't tell him (like she doesn't tell anyone) that she barely believes she's alive somedays, and this may all be moot.
Because, on a good day, she believes all of it. That a miracle was granted, even though she hardly deserves it, and that her future is limitless. That there's merit in this.
His promise is so simple. Pyrrha looks comprehending, and her own weapon slips easily into her hand.
... She waits for his permission to begin, before anything. ]