#( turn the pain into power || silveredruby )

[hopeandharmonizing]

Pain Into Power

Briar + Ruby Rose ( @silveredruby​ )

“My dear girl,” Briar leans forward; hands grab around the ankles of leather combat boots to hold her weight, as if it all reaches out towards Ruby to get as close as possible, until barely below tipping right over, “Wherever did you get the notion that power equals anger? Do you believe monsters are the only creatures which have power?”

“Power from anger is toxic. Power doesn’t equal anger, but I won’t let it be what motivates me to take action.” Ruby’s attention shifted back to Briar, “...The misuse of that power is what slowly turns people into monsters. The motivations for using it… the intent and the impact... I don’t want to lose what makes me a person just for being strong. I’m here to protect and help people. Things will make me angry, but that won’t be my drive for my actions. It will be something else.”

Ruby’s close, so close, but a person cannot be whole without accepting both the light and the dark in themselves. Just as Briar accepts others in their entirety, she holds back nothing either. Always saying the words no one wants to hear, “…you’re wrong.”

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“ Turn the pain into power. ”

An uncomfortable shudder crept up her spine when she thought about those words. Would it be a coping mechanism? Something to ease her hesitation?

“NO. I don’t want to.”

How was she supposed to do such a thing in a healthy manner? The girl couldn’t figure it out. Her last drive of agony let her commit an action that would be seen as heinous, even if it was to a psychopath. Her eyes were meant to be a power for preserving life. Had she known that a year ago perhaps that would have helped keep those lives from being lost to the beyond.

“I’m not going to become a monster just because I hurt. I’m not going to give myself the opportunity to.” She explained through gritted teeth. “I know what happens when I truly get angry. I know what I did and what I can do when I’m pushed…”

And Ruby had been pushed many, many times.

“I’m not going to let a breaking point, break me.”

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Curiosity cants Briar’s head, eyes blinking, lips parting with a loose jaw as if to say something, but she thinks twice; shuts her mouth; lets Ruby continue. So far removed from when she once was just as young and angry, and with how the girl carries herself, sometimes it’s tough to remember how young she still is.

Sometimes it’s tough to know what goes on in that girl’s head at all.

Not that she has much room to talk.

Many times she says something, and someone hears another. Talking over their perspective solves nothing, reveals nothing, teaches nothing to either. She remains seated at a distance, ripped-skinny-jean covered legs criss-crossed on the floor, arms poking out from sleeves of a cropped t-shirt resting relaxed and open behind her, tail in a gentle curl around one side. Calm. Grounded. Watching. Listening.

Never pushing. …Well, sometimes pushing. Knocking up against. Nudging forward, more like. But never shoving. That’s how people hit those breaking points.

Shoulders square with pride for Ruby’s recognition and determination to avoid that boundary.

For all the young one has achieved, for how much she most certainly walks the right path, she still stumbles through the beginning, at the beginning. Getting angry is good, but only one step of the process. It fuels the fight, but only when recognized, wrestled with, honed, focused. Not raw and let lose to wreak havoc like a rebel without a cause. Is this how she’s been using her gifts thus far?

“My dear girl,” Briar leans forward; hands grab around the ankles of leather combat boots to hold her weight, as if it all reaches out towards Ruby to get as close as possible, until barely below tipping right over. Her chin tilts up to add just a little more length, and concern laces the lashes she looks through over her cheek,

“Wherever did you get the notion that power equals anger?” she shakes her head, black hair swaying along, “Let me ask this. Do you believe monsters are the only creatures which have power? …or are there others?”

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There were many questions thrown her way, but Ruby intended to answer every one of them. Remembering how her own actions were fueled by rage caused her fists to clench and her gaze to shift away for a moment.

“Power from anger is toxic. Power doesn’t equal anger, but I won’t let it be what motivates me to take action.” Her attention shifted back to Briar, eyes a bit darker but still with a trademark gleam. “I’ve done a despicable thing out of fury, when I snapped and couldn’t take it anymore. When I wanted it to stop.”

The important fact of it being against someone who was a psychopath would have factored in very heavily to her argument, but Ruby decided that detail was, in fact, unimportant right now.

She continued with conviction. “Everyone has power. It’s up to them to find it, and to learn how to use it. It doesn’t come to everyone the same way… it’s like if and when people find their semblance. Some people don’t, others do, and it’s a matter of how or when. The misuse of that power is what slowly turns people into monsters. The motivations for using it… the intent and the impact… that’s what can make someone a monster. Make people lose the humanity that makes us different from monsters.”

“I won’t give up on that idea. I don’t want to lose what makes me a person just for being strong. I’m here to protect and help people. Things will make me angry, but that won’t be my drive for my actions. It will be something else.”

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Gold gaze latches on to the hazy clouds and flashes of light within stormy silver, hoping to offer the steadiness and warmth of a sun waiting beyond the gray. Regret saps away Ruby’s typical beaming demeanor, braces her body against a wrenching pain Briar knows no details about, but wishes she could take it all away, all the while knowing she cannot. Both of them helpless puppets to the present, their current shape carved by a past now written in stone. Eventually Ruby turns her head away and closes her eyes, retreats into her own head, but Briar refuses to shy away from any of it. People are free to be their open and honest selves around her, fearless, shameless, limitless.

Facing these struggles for one’s self never looks or sounds pretty, but cleaning the gunk away is an act of beauty in itself. Briar cannot direct how to clear her mind, what the final picture should look like, but she can be a tool in the process, give her some ideas, plant some seeds.

She lets her finish before she speaks with a nod, “Everyone has power. That’s a very wise answer, Ruby. And I’m glad to hear you’re so determined not to lose your heart. For everything else, however,”

She’s close, so close, but a person cannot be whole without accepting both the light and the dark in themselves. Just as she accepts others in their entirety, Briar holds back nothing either. Always saying the words no one wants to hear, “…you’re wrong.”

She pulls her tail over her lap like a blanket of comfort, eyes finally falling to follow along with palms stroking soft fur. Is that how she sees it? Briar’s technically not even human, to have any ‘humanity’ to hold onto. Frequently named a monster. Often wonders if she indeed aligns closer to the latter than the former because of the effect she has on people, no matter her reasons.

One would think that Ruby growing up with her uncle Qrow - enough good motives for her to deem a role model, yet wholly unintentional misfortune after misfortune trailing each of those footsteps she follows - would have taught her the disconnect possible between intention and impact.

Are we both monsters in some way, then?

But that’s perhaps semantics, and certainly an argument for another day. Briar acts as example, and sits with these thoughts, contains herself from lashing out in word or action just yet, looks beyond her own hurt but transmutes it into further conviction to help people understand. Hands settle flat, and she lifts her head high once more, features firm.

“Just as every person has power, so does every emotion. Anger must be one of your drives, Ruby. Anger tells us when something’s wrong. As you said - when something needs to stop. Anger is useful - it wakes our body up, heightens our senses, sharpens our mind, gives us all the tools we need to stand and fight. If you try to deny it, if you do not make it part of your power, …then it will continue to have power over you instead.”

Now Briar’s fists clench from terrible flashbacks, “and if you ask me, that is when a person can become a monster.”

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Being told she was wrong was a very common occurrence. It didn’t make Ruby angry, but something about the idea of someone blatantly telling you that what you were saying was incorrect brought out a brief flare of annoyance.

Perhaps she got that from her family.

“We’ll just have to agree to disagree then.” She didn’t see a point in arguing. “From my experience, relying on anger as a drive can lead to the opposite: rage, blind fury, a lack of common sense… sure it’s a good survival tool, but it’s a very risky one. A lot of people don’t know how to change it into something more useful.”

Her gaze wandered to some surface, she couldn’t recall. Unfocused eyes were lost in thought, trying to find the right words to explain her side of her perspective. Ruby couldn’t also help but wonder, wasn’t this a more appropriate topic for Yang to be having?

Her words were soft and almost shameful. “The last few times I let myself just… go by way of anger… I look back on those actions and hardly recognize myself. I’ll always be upset by them. I’ll always be unhappy that I wasn’t quicker, smarter, wiser… but I’m not going to let a constant idea of feeling like I’m owed something make me hurt other people who don’t deserve it.”

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Nip it in the bud, they say. Briar never one to mince or waste words. Sometimes you had to use them to shake someone loose from their own head before they can see straight. Ruby, too stubborn to fold at simple statement.

Yang has already learned to turn her anger and pain into power. It’s little sister’s turn.

She-wolf shakes her head in disbelief at these excuses!

In Ruby’s experience? As a teenager?! All of maybe a year’s worth of field practice under her belt?! Just beginning to see the world!

Briar has every respect for those who would stick it to authority, but… to not listen to the elders standing on the same side? Nothing but petulance. She, an expert in spirit, walked her path to figure all this out alone, asked to be here to share her wisdom and experience so Ruby wouldn’t have to make the same stumbles along the way, only to be snubbed for what she teaches?

How did this girl ever make it through school? Oh, that’s right. She didn’t.

Ruby waived so many steps, tossed forward like a skipping stone each phase along the way. Extra combat lessons early on, allowing preemptive entry into Beacon; an early license based on merit alone, without completing the process of passing lessons. The girl, shot through life like a canon, for better or worse, and only keeping up because speed is so much of what she does.

Briar stands and steps closer, looming, “No,” insistence holds firm, “There is no agreeing to disagree. This is not a philosophical debate. This is training.”

Furrowing brows above narrowing gold eyes edge out some of their sympathy. If pressing a passive smothering semblance atop Ruby’s is what it takes to get her to slow down enough to listen, so be it.

“A lot of people don’t know how, and they get away with it, sure. You are not most people, Ruby Rose. …You. Must. ”

Hands open out to her sides, head tilts to the side and back, tail hangs straight behind her, “How many more times will you let that happen, then? How many more regrets before you can recognize those actions are as much a part of you as any other and claim them, combine them with other emotions and motivations so you don’t act so blindly? You cannot learn to see if you look back and then turn away from the truth.”

Boot heels dig in, “Face your mistakes, learn from them, and then let them go. Train and master your power, your whole self. Not just the pretty parts.”

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This felt like circles of conversation that wasn’t getting anywhere. Ruby knew she wasn’t the best at explaining her thoughts, but she couldn’t have been this bad, right? Perhaps something had been lost in translation.

She made a T formation with both of her hands. “Okay, let’s just- time out for a second here.”

Training or no, they were having a conversation, and Ruby years ago might have backed down and just taken what they could and went. No, not after everything she had been through. Ruby crossed her arms and stood her ground despite Briar advancing and becoming frustrated herself. She could feel it as well, and the proper thing to do was be diplomatic.

Everyone got their one.

“Let’s clear something up: what do you think I’m telling you? How are you interpreting what I’m saying? We aren’t making any progress here, so why don’t we figure out where this circle started?” No amount of grumpy adult was going to have her falter this time, anxiety be damned.

“Then we will go from there.”

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Gold eyes widen and blink double-time at unexpected response. Ruby neither frightens nor flees, nor counterattacks. She calls a halt, a stalemate, cuts a showing short with simple, assertive hand gestures, and makes Briar all-too aware of her penchant for getting carried away.

Not very good at knowing when it’s too much or too loud or when to stop, even as she preaches anger as a good sign and has her mind set on slowing someone else down. Even when she promised herself to remember what it was like to be young and stumbling. Not everyone is as practiced with their words as she.

Sturdy shoulders sink in shame as Briar takes both a literal and figurative step back. A glance to the ground and then back up to the girl the only glimpse of an apology to show.

Ruby should not have to be the adult in this situation. Pride, a sin which too often gets the better of Briar.

“No… no,” she says softer, with a sigh, and settles her hackles, “I’ve done enough talking for the moment, I think.” To the point of talking over Ruby, perhaps.

“I said to you, turn the pain into power. …Why don’t we start again with me asking instead of telling… Ruby, what do you think that means?”

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The sudden sinking into a quieter tone gave Ruby a moment for pause. The adamant attitude had faltered. At least there was no more aggression, and a quiet was left for them to review. A temporary flickering of doubt flashed in the girl’s chest, but Ruby had the resolve to keep her stance.

Learning didn’t have an age limit.

Closing her eyes, Ruby thought of a calm and concise way to communicate her thoughts. “I’m not my sister, so I can’t turn pain into power literally. All I can do is take the pain, and change it into a drive. That drive to motivate your will, to turn it into the ability to do what you want. Not what the anger wants.

“Anger is a feeling of telling you that you’ve been wronged. It’s a reminder to not be walked over, but it can flare up for the wrong reasons… other negative things get attached to it. It can become toxic, and harmful to more than just yourself.”

Don’t think about it, she would always tell herself since that day. It failed every single time.

“It’s an emotion that is felt. I can’t ignore it, but I won’t let it consume me. It will be a fuel to protect, not to destroy.”

[courtedclover-a]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS.

APHRODITE.     laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

APOLLO.     glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organised music sheets.  notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

ARES. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS.    keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA.   discerning gaze.  unreadable face. quiet museums.  owl perched on their finger.  armour that intimidates.  eye for architecture.  plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses.  studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid.  big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colours. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

DEMETER.     soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends.  flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants.  leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS.     drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin.  sleek furred panthers. theatre masks.  stage productions.  receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch.  wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty.  grand opera houses. masquerade balls.  rolls of film.  shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS.    the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles.  nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes.  ashes.  striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years.  wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls.  fascination with robotics. pain is fuel.  stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

HERA.     resting bitch face. dressed to the nines.  cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls.  large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane.  files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

HERMES.     devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology.  will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter.  puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway.  ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s.  hoodies and sneakers.  

POSEIDON.     storm with skin. colorful coral reefs.  waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint.  owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets.  fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

HADES.     walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard.  crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass.   untended dead flowers.   the black sheep of the family.   black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties.   blood on your shirt collar.  dust illuminated by sunlight.   classical music. dogs are better than people.  a quiet wrath.   shady business deals. taking what you are owed.  paint it black.  seasonal affective disorder.   popping the suit collar.  grey rain on a cityscape.

ZEUS.     thunder in their heart. running on coffee.  flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare - filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings.  planes soaring through a cloudless sky.  technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

TAGGED BY: -- TAGGING: @littleblackqrow​ @dcstinythief​ @silvcrphantom​ @silveredruby​ @jinxedcrow​ (if you want to! and anybody else who wants to do it, tag me!) 

[hopeandharmonizing]

custom tag dump  ♥

I pull these from narrative in our drabbles/threads. So if you’re not on here, it just means I couldn’t find something I liked yet. Similarly, not all are my favorite but I didn’t want to wait any longer, so some may be updated in the future.

Thank you all for writing with me to have so many!!!