... [ 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.
[ 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. ]