#his greatest love/weakness/adversary/obstacle/inspiration

[fatcatlittlebox]

I cannot let her in again. I cannot.

[amaziana]

Change in Galadriels character is sexist

Yep. You read that right. Despite Galadriel being this great ninja badass whose most important possession is his dead brothers dagger the show (and the change in her character) is sexist. This is coming from a girl who loves female characters that take part in combat and are great warriors.

In cannon Galadriel is 6’4 woman with amazon disposition who is in par with all the loremasters and athletes of the eldar and along with her uncle Feanor considered the greatest of their people even though Galadriel is considered wiser of the two. She is proud, athletic, wise and ambitious. She didn’t leave Valinor in order to defeat Morgoth but because "she had dreams of far lands and dominions that might be her own to order as she would without tutelage". She wasn’t granted pardon from the valar at the end of the first age and was banned from returning to Valinor. Her response? She didn’t care. She didn’t want to return.(If I remember correctly, she basically said that she had done nothing wrong and therefore didn’t need forgiveness.) In the second age she got married to the love of her life and had a daughter, who would go on to marry Elrond. When Sauron began to stir in Middle-earth again he was noticed by Galadriel even though at the time she or no one else knew it was Sauron. She however noticed there was a controlling evil, and that it was spreading beyond the Misty mountains. She also thought this 'residue of evil' could only be fought with an alliance of all its enemies. As a result she and her husband moved east and established Eregion. When Sauron came to Eregion in disguise she didn’t trust him and he “perceived at once that Galadriel would be his chief adversary and obstacle, and he endeavoured therefore to placate her, bearing her scorn with outward patience and courtesy". She did lot of other stuff, but it would literally take me too long to list them all. 

If this doesn’t scream a powerful, strong woman to you, I don’t know what does. Now when we look at Rop Galadriel she is weak in comparison. She is basically a subject to Gil-Galad, has established no realms, has no desire to rule, is reckless and impulsive and isn’t respected. She's a young, angry girl with a sword who single mindedly chases a goal set by her brother. While a strong warrior woman is a character I usually like and find inspirational, Rop Galadriel is not it. She is mean, stupid and has no depth. Sadly, this is the case with most of “strong female characters” in modern media especially if made by men. If you want an example of a female warrior archetype done well, look at Eowyn. She is young, angry, independent and a great fighter, but she is also desperate, lost, sad, ambitious and complex. She ends up choosing life over death in the end and finding her happiness. 

Another problem with Rop Galadriel is rejecting her more feminine strength and changing it into more traditionally masculine one. It not only makes her weaker but also spreads the message that in order to be strong, you have to embody traditionally masculine traits: aggressiveness, toughness and being emotionally hardened. Ironically, in Tolkiens world characters who embrace their traditionally more feminine qualities, empathy, kindness and caring, along side their masculine qualities, are the ones that are the strongest. 

As for appearance, Galadriel is extremely beautiful, but also tall and athletic in canon. However, in the show she is beautiful yes, but she is shorter than the male characters and slim, but not muscular. I don’t know about you, but I’d call that sexist. In the Lotr movies she is at least tall. 

To summarize, Amazon took a powerful woman in her own right who represented more traditionally feminene and quiet form of strength, who was known to be extremely tall and athletic and as such most likely muscular, who was far sighted and established realms and started preparing the world to stand against Sauron in concrete ways, who people listened and loved and whom Sauron recognized at once as his greatest adversary and obstacle and turned her into small, toned at best, angry girl who thinks only of herself, is no ruler, has established no realms, is sidelined, makes stupid, spur of the moment decisions, whose only effort in fighting Sauron is trying to find him in order to defeat him with weapons and commands no respect. (And who might have a romance with halbarad, who might be Sauron or the witch king.) This change is sexist because it shows how amazon refuses to acknowledge her quiet, traditionally more feminene strength as good enough and gives her masculine traits and strength but make her look feminene and conveniently attractive and removing more masculine aspects of her appearance (height and muscle.) 

P.s. I’m not trying to say “women have to be feminene and can’t be masculine, but rather use words masculine and feminene to describe qualities that traditionally are associated with men and women. Personally I believe anyone can be just as masculine or feminene as they want regardless of gender.

[otp-armada]

If Jason wanted to convince me that Lxa was the love of Clarke's life, he wouldn't have killed her off, effectively cutting their love story permanently, with 4.5 seasons left of the show. Their arc, starting with their introduction in 2x07 and concluding with L's death in 3x07, is 17 episodes long, accounting for 17% of the entire narrative. If I generously add 3x16 to the count, an episode in which L is already dead in the corporeal world Clarke is trying to return to, it's a whopping, grand total of 18%. An 18% congruous with Clarke's intense connection to Bellamy and vice versa, which even A.lycia confirmed as romantic. Feelings romantic enough to spur the formation of a love triangle. An 18% ignoring Clarke's ultimate choice to go back to her people when L wanted her to stay.

CL is a chapter in the story begun and wrapped up in the first half of the narrative. And that's omitting further illumination on the finer details making CL so problematic for Clarke. Do you expect me to believe it was coincidental for CL to occur at a time when Clarke was spiraling down a dark path, commencing with Finn's death? Who played a hand in forcing Clarke's own hand, with Finn, and TonDC, and Mount Weather? Whose example inspired her to ensnare herself in armor and warpaint to be strong enough to save her people? Whose behavior did she emulate in the pushing away of support from her people? Who gave her a place to continue hiding from Bellamy, her mom, and her friends? A place to be someone other than Clarke Griffin? In lieu of facing her fears like the heroine she is? The purpose of CL wasn't to provide Clarke with a magnificent, fairy tale romance gone tragically wrong. I believe Jason's intent with the relationship aimed to further damage Clarke's psyche after L's death, to solidify the belief that her love is not only deadly to its recipients but renders her too weak to do what must be done for survival.

After 3x16, CL is an often superfluous namedrop or two per season for Clarke to briefly react to before carrying on with the plot. Season 5 aside, most of these references are needless enough to be able to interpret them as attempts at reparations for the L/CL fandom's benefit -and their views- without altering the course of the story. Crazy me for thinking it's not enough to constitute an ongoing love story. Crazy me for not thinking this was on par with interactions between living characters. Crazy me for thinking it doesn't befit a love story for the protagonist.

This sliver of the story is what Jason and the CLs would have us unquestionably believe is the pervasive love story of The 100's seven seasons?

Despite his lie and the constant gaslighting from the pineapple CLs, some of us know how to decipher what a temporary love interest is. Lxa? I think you know where I'm heading with this.

I'll acknowledge my admittedly negative appraisal of CL as someone who recognizes its value to the LGBT+ community and treats it as valid while not caring for L/CL on a narrative level. I felt, when swayed by L's influence, Clarke became the antithesis of what I found admirable about her. I resented Clarke's acquiescence of her power to the commander. I wanted nothing more than to remove the wedge L had driven between Clarke and Bellamy.

Let me try to give L/CL the benefit of the doubt for a minute. I don't hold L as responsible for Clarke's choices, but I recognize the prominent role she played in their upbringing. The push and pull was an intriguing aspect of their dynamic, as was the chance to meet a manifestation of who Clarke might have been if she was all head, no heart. Her fall from grace was arguably necessary for her to be a fully-rounded character, not a Mary Sue. It wouldn't be realistic for the protagonist of a tragic story about a brutal world to be a pure cinnamon roll. When forgiveness is an innate theme with Clarke, it would be my bias at work if I was content with her applying it to everyone but Lxa. Clarke saw enough commonalities between her and L to identify with the latter. When she extended forgiveness to L, I believe it was her way of taking the first step on the path to making peace with herself by proxy. None of this means I wanted them paired up. At best, I made my peace with seeing the relationship through to its eventual end. In time for L's death, ironically. My passivity about them notwithstanding, my conclusions are, however, supported by canon.

If I may submit a Doylist reason for romantic CL? Jason knew he had a massive subfandom itching to see them coupled, thereby boosting ratings and generating media buzz. A Watsonian reason? Without relevance, I think L would have been another Anya to Clarke. Grapple shortly with the unfair taking of a life right as they choose to steer towards unity, melancholy giving way to the inconvenience of the loss of a potential, powerful political ally. Romance ensured her arc with L would have the designated impact on Clarke's character moving forward in the next act.

For a show not about relationships, Jason has routinely used romantic love as a shorthand for character and dynamic development. It's happened with so many hastily strung together pairings. And when it does, everyone and their mother bends over backward to defend the relationship. It's romantic because it just is. Didn't you see the kissing? Romantic.

No, The 100 at its core is not about relationships, romantic and otherwise. But stack the number of fans invested exclusively by the action against those of us appreciating a strong plot but are emotionally attached to the characters and dynamics. Who do we think wins? Jason can cry all he wants over an audience refusing to be dazzled solely by his flashy sci-fi.

Funnily enough, "not about relationships'' is only ever applied to Bellarke. Bellarke, a relationship so consistently significant, it's the central dynamic of the show. The backbone on which the story is predicated. Only with Bellarke does it become super imperative to represent male-female platonic relationships. As if Bellarke is the end all, be all of platonic friendship representation on this show. In every single television show in the history of television shows.

Where was this advocacy when B/echo was foisted upon on us after one scene between them where he didn't outright hate Echo? When one interaction before that, he nearly choked the life out of her. If male-female friendship on TV is so sparse, why didn't B/ravens celebrate the familial relationship between Bellamy and Raven? Isn't the fact that they interpret Clarke as abusive to Bellamy all the more reason to praise his oh-so-healthy friendship with Raven as friendship? They might be the one group of shippers at the least liberty to use this argument against Bellarke, lest they want to hear the cacophony of our fandom's laughter at the sheer hypocrisy of the joke. Instead, they've held on with an iron grip to the one sex scene from practically three lifetimes ago when the characters were distracting themselves from their feelings on OTHER people? They've recalled this as "proof" of romance while silent on (or misconstruing) the 99% of narrative wherein they were platonic and the 100% of the time they were canonically non-romantic.

Bellarke is only non-romantic if you believe love stories are told in the space of time it takes for Characters A & B to make out and screw each other onscreen, a timespan amounting to less than the intermission of a quick bathroom break. If it sounds ridiculous, it's because it is. And yet, some can't wrap their heads around the idea that maybe, just maybe, a well-written love story in its entirety is denoted by more than two insubstantial markers and unreliable qualifiers. B/raven had sex, and the deed didn't fashion them into a romance. Jasper and Maya kissed but didn't have sex. Were they half a romantic relationship? Bellarke is paralleled to romantic couples all the time, but it counts for nothing in the eyes of their rival-ship fandom adversaries. Take ship wars out of it by considering Mackson. Like B/echo, the show informed us that Mackson became a couple post-Praimfaya, offscreen, via a kiss. Does anyone fancy them an epic love story with their whisper of a buildup? Since a kiss is all it takes, as dictated by fandom parameters, we should.

If Characters A & B are ensconced in a romantic storyline, then by definition, their relationship is neither non-romantic nor fanon. "Platonic" rings hollow as a descriptor for feelings canonically not so.

If the rest of the fandom doesn't want to take our word for granted, Bob confirmed Bellarke as romantic. Is he as delusional as we are? Bob is not a shipper, but he knows what he was told to perform and how. Why do the pineapples twist themselves in knots to discredit his word? If they are so assured by Jason's word-of-god affirmation, then what credibility does it bear to have Bellarke validated by someone other than the one in charge? They're so quick to aggressively repudiate any statement less than "CL is everything. Nothing else exists. CL is the only fictional love story in The 100, nay, the WORLD. CL is the single greatest man-made invention since the advent of the wheel."

We've all seen a show with a romantic relationship between the leads at the core of the story. We all know the definition of slowburn. We can pinpoint the tropes used to convey romantic feelings. We know conflict is how stories are told. We know when interferences are meant to separate them. We know when obstacles are overcome, they're stronger for it. We know that's why the hurdles exist. We know those impediments often take the shape of interim, third-party love interests. We know what love triangles are. We know pining and longing.

Jason wasn't revolutionary in his structure of Bellarke. He wasn't sly. Jason modeled them no differently than most other shows do with their main romances. Subtler and slower, sure. Sometimes not subtle at all. There's no subtlety in having Clarke viscerally react to multiple shots of Bellamy with his girlfriend. No subtlety in him prioritizing her life over the others in Sanctum's clutches. In her prioritizing his life above all the other lives she was sure would perish if he opened the bunker door. There is no subtlety in Bellamy poisoning his sister to stave off Clarke's impending execution. In her relinquishing 50 Arkadian lives for him after it killed her to choose only 100 to preserve. In her sending the daughter Clarke was hellbent to protect, into the trenches to save him. In him marching across enemy lines to rescue her. In her surrender to her kidnapper to march to potential death, to prevent Bellamy's immediate one. No subtlety in Josie's callouts. No subtlety in Lxa's successful use of his name to convince Clarke to let a bomb drop on an unsuspecting village. Bet every dollar you have that the list goes on and on.

There are a lot of layers to what this show was. It was a tragedy, with hope for light at the end of the tunnel. It was, first and foremost, a post-apocalyptic sci-fi survival drama. Within this overarch is the story of how the union of Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake saves humanity, ushering in an age of peace. In this regard, their relationship transcended romance. But with the two of them growing exponentially more intimate each season, pulled apart by obstacles only to draw closer once again, theirs was a love story. A romantic opus, the crescendo timed in such a way that the resolution of this storyline -the moment they get together- would align with the resolution of the main plot. Tying Bellarke to the completion of this tale made them more meaningful than any other relationship on this show, not less.

Whereas the trend with every other pair was to chronicle whether they survived this hostile world intact or succumbed to it, Bellarke was a slowburn. A unique appellation for the couples on this show, but not disqualifying them from romantic acknowledgment.

Framing Bellarke in this manner was 100% Jason's choice. If he wanted the audience to treat them as platonic, he should have made it clear within the narrative itself, not through vague, word-of-god dispatches. A mishandled 180-degree swerve at the clutch as a consequence of extra-textual factors doesn't negate the 84% of the story prior. It's just bad writing to not follow through. And Jason's poor, nearsighted decisions ruined a hell of a lot more than a Bellarke endgame.

The problem is, when Bellarke is legitimized, the pineapples are yanked out of their fantasies where they get to pretend the quoted exaggerations above are real. Here I'm embellishing, but some of them have deeply ingrained their identities in CL to the degree where hyperbole is rechristened to incontestable facts. An endorsement for Bellarke is an obtrusive reminder of the not all-encompassing reception of their ship. A lack of positive sentiment is an attack on their OTP, elevated to an attack on their identity. Before long, it ascends to an alleged offense to their right to exist. The perpetrators of this evil against humanity are the enemy, and they must attack in kind, in defense of themselves.

Truthfully, I think it's sad, the connotation of human happiness wholly dependent on the outcome of a fictional liaison already terminated years ago. I'm not unaware of the marginalization of minorities, of the LGBT+ community, in media. I haven't buried my head in the sand to pretend there aren't horrible crimes committed against them. I don't pretend prejudice isn't rampant. When defense and education devolve into hatred and libel for asinine reasons, though, the line has been crossed. You don't get a free pass to hurt someone with your words over a damn ship war. No matter how hard you try to dress it up as righteous social justice, I assure you, you're woefully transparent.

[jadekitty777]

The Hero’s Road

Warning: Definitely has spoilers up to Volume 6, Episode 4  

Rating: K

Word Count: 3.5k

Ao3 Link: The Hero’s Road

Summary: Though every reincarnation was new, their role was always the same. This time around, Ozpin was set to be the guide, Oscar the driving force and, as always, Ozma was the spirit.

Things just… weren’t exactly going as planned right now. [Set sometime after Volume 6, Episode 4]

Notes:  So this is completely dedicated to @undeadwicchan​ who’s post here inspired me to do a character study on the three Oz’s (Ozma, Oscar and Ozpin). Beyond briefly utilizing the idea of Ozma coming to the rescue for Oscar, it doesn’t actually have much to do with the framework of the post itself - which, all the kudos to you for such a kickass headcanon; it would be seriously awesome to see executed in true canon. Nevertheless, with this volume making me all sorts of fond for the precious trio, this was just the jolt I needed to get writing something of my own!

~

It had been a long time since Ozma had been required to surface to the full forefront of control.

But Oscar, young and inexperienced as he was, could not handle the swarm that overtook Brunswick Farms. Roused by the cries for help, he swiftly took the reigns and joined the fight alongside team RWBY and Qrow. Yet, hindered without Ozpin’s melee experience, he relied entirely on his magic to combat the force – tipping them all off that he was neither of the two they had come to expect to see.

As soon as the last Grimm faded, they turned on him, as he expected they would.

“What are you doing here?” Sir Branwen’s voice was as sharp as his weapon. Unlike his kin, fear did not shake him; he stood taller in the face of adversary. Were the man a true bird, one might believe such a valiant personality would go up against even an eagle. It was a quality that was hard not to admire.

But when faced with it in opposition, even dug deep in their mind as he was, he could feel the pang from Ozpin’s heart. He fathomed that no matter how many times he was reborn, there would always be those select few that their desertion would strike hard enough to unbalance them. It was just unfortunate that those around them often forgot the fact they were still entirely human themselves.

“Do you know how many lifetimes I have led?” Ozma questioned. He turned to face them, their combined ire doing nothing to weigh him. “Ninety-three. The ninety first and second were the closest we’ve ever gotten to unifying humanity. A hundred years to end a war and bring about comradeship among our kingdoms. To create technology and advancements the world had never seen before. To build the schools and raise a defense force for the many less-abled.” He stepped forward, his voice rising with his righteous fury, “And one night was all it took to see so much of that undone. One night for irreparable damage to be done.” He looked to Lady Xiao Long as he said this, watching as her gaze averted. He turned to Lady Belladonna and Lady Schnee next, “For fear and uncertainty to halt us.” Finally, to Lady Rose and Sir Branwen, “Or for those to be lost that could never be returned.”

The snow crunched underfoot as Qrow challenged him, “That’s not-”

“One mere hour for you all to lose your confidence.” He swept his cane in indication of them, stalling it to point to the man. When only silence reigned, Ozma placed it down, crossing his hands over the top. “I am not naïve to what the power of destruction can do. It is in it that has my former love so lost.” He shut his eyes, briefly seeking the one locked away; but Ozpin still was not ready to give up the key. “It is in that, I find myself lost as well.”

“Then how can you ask us to fight an enemy we can’t beat?!” Yang snapped, her fire refueled. Another quality that was easy to admire, but when misdirected, became her greatest obstacle.

“Then I will not.” He replied simply. “I instead ask you to fight for what is right. Every moment we delay is a chance for Salem to continue her advance. Atlas and Shade are no doubt her next targets. Every life we can save by merely intervening is worth it. However, whether you stand by me for that end or not is only a choice you can make.” He walked past them, heading back for the farmhouse they had come to make their own.

“Where are you going?” Asked Lady Schnee.

“To lie down. I used a tad too much magic. Oscar will need time to recover.” He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “And he, like all of you, needs time to consider what he truly wishes to do.” He continued onward.

What I wish to do? Oscar repeated faintly.

Did you truly not believe you had a choice? He thought back.

Silence was his only answer.

Ozma quickened his step just so. It seems he had more work to do.

~

When Oscar awoke, he was neither on the couch he had laid down on nor in the farmhouse at all. Above him were the branches of trees, sunlight streaming through and dappling along the ground, confusing him with their lack of snow and cold. As he sat up, it was with a start he realized he was not alone.

Ozma sat on the ground a few feet from him. He may have been meditating but at the sound of movement, his eyes opened. “Ah, it was much easier to call you here than I feared.”

“What’s going on? Where are we?” Oscar demanded. Things were already weird enough in his head; if he found out he had some crazy super ability to astral project, he was done.

“Calm, young one.” Ozma replied, raising a hand. “You are still asleep. This is merely a mental space in which we can talk. As for where we are…” He looked about. “You’ll have to tell me. It is your psyche after all.”

He looked around, realizing the other man was right. He did know this place. “It’s one of the forest trails that leads back to my farm.” It was the same one he’d taken to leave.

There was a rattle of armor as the other stood. “Then perhaps we can take a walk together. I’d enjoy to see it.”

Yeah right. Still, Oscar allowed himself to be helped up, doing his best to keep up with him as they walked down the dirt path. As they did, he could not help but sneak glances at the man. He truly appeared as if he were someone who stepped right out of a fairytale, with armor meant for a knight and a cape befitting a superhero. Even his body language seemed strong, with his shoulders and head high, his stride long so that it forced Oscar to take two steps to his every one. How could he walk with such confidence when everything in his life had gone so wrong?

Ozma caught him staring and smiled at him. “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yea!” Oscar looked down, his face heating. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Whatever you would like. I’m sure you have a lot on your mind.”

He thought of asking the one he’d just thought, but quickly shook it aside. He went for something safer instead. “Why do you want to see my dingy old farm? I’m sure it’s nothing nearly as amazing as the stuff you’ve seen.”

Ozma chuckled. “You know, I always loved adventuring. It was what made me decide to set off from home. I wanted to see the world. Experience everything to its fullest.” He waved his hands outwards, encapsulating a sight Oscar could not see. “My travels brought me to so many places. Grand castles. Beautiful canyons. Stunning oceans. And yes, even ‘dingy’ old farms.”

“And you left, as easy as that.” He shook his head. Figures.

“I never said it was easy. My father was furious. Every night he told me I was throwing my life away. And my mother cried and cried.” Ozma looked away and though his smile stayed, there was something sorrowful there. “I don’t think I could have ever disappointed them more.”

Like a Grimm to a mourner, he couldn’t help but wonder what his own parents would have said, had they still been around. He felt something settle against his gut uncomfortably. A weight he hadn’t felt in years, but its presence was as agonizing as ever. He ran a hand over his face, trying to act like he was brushing away an itch and not the burn in his eyes. “So why did you do it?”

“It was all I wanted. I didn’t want to live with the regret I hadn’t tried.” Ozma placed his hand over his heart. “It just felt right.”

His feet stopped, the sentence striking a painfully familiar chord in him and words spilled out before Oscar could help it, “Is that why I felt that way when I left? Was it you!?” So many emotions were filling him he didn’t know where one began and another ended, but anger seemed to take the helm, raising in a great tidal wave inside of him. “Huh?! Was it?! How many other things haven’t been me?! What else is just you or him or, or someone else!!”

Ozma reached for him, “Oscar-”

“No!” He smacked the hand away, stumbling backwards. “When I was younger, I used to dream about it, you know? Setting out on my own big adventure. Becoming a hero like the ones we saw on TV. I thought that was what I wanted.” He looked away, his fists so tight at his side they shook. “But now I get it. I never had it in me to leave. It’s… it’s always just been you, hasn’t it? And that’s what it’s going to be like, isn’t it?!” He bowed his head, fighting down tears but not the other’s approach this time, or the hands that laid on his shoulders. He let his head thunk against the metal breastplate. “I didn’t even get a choice! It’s not fair!” Metal rang as he slammed his fist against the other’s chest. “It’s not fair!!”

The arms that encircled him tightened. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not.”

He hit him again, strength waning. By the third strike it was barely more than a weak knock. He slumped against him. “I’m just going to disappear, aren’t I?”

“Of course not.” Ozma’s voice was soft, almost fatherly in a way he’d almost forgotten, as he spoke against his hair. “If Ozpin nor I have disappeared, why would you?”

Oscar snuffled, tilting his head up, “But Qrow, he said…”

“An injured heart will say much in an effort to ease its own pain.” He stepped back, just enough to look at him properly. “I will not lie and say that the lines do not blur at times, but there will always be a distinctive you in here and your input is always as important as ours. And you will always have the right to choose.”

“What about at Haven?” He bit back.

Ozma laughed softly. “The same can be said about Jinn.”

His eyes widened. “I- That was- I was just-”

There was a shake of his head and a hand on his shoulder once more as the man lent down to his eye-level. “I apologize, it was not an accusation. Merely an observation. None of us have been very fair to each other. But while the past can’t be undone, we can change moving forward. If this coexistence is to work, that is.”

“So what if I said I wanted to go back home?” He challenged.

He expected him to blanch or backtrack. But Ozma only smiled and said, “Then I’ll help you buy the train ticket this time.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed; a reassuring touch. “Is that what you want?”

Oscar looked away, wiping away tears. “No. I dunno. Maybe.”

He rose. “What is it that makes you uncertain?”

A sigh heaved from deep in his chest, focusing on the dirt between their shoes. “I’m… not like you guys. I’m no knight running out to save damsels from towers. Or some wise professor who can motivate a whole school of people to be these great fighters.” He laughed bitterly as he threw up his hands. “I couldn’t even get that guy to shut off those stupid turrets! I’m not particularly smart or skilled,” Finally, he looked up at other. “Or brave.”

An eyebrow rose like a startled exclamation. “Are those the things that you believe a hero to be?”

“Of course they are!” When Ozma’s expression did not change though, Oscar felt uncertain suddenly. “…Aren’t they?”

He hummed thoughtfully as he waved to the trail before them. As Oscar took his place beside him again, he was given his answer, “They are good qualities, certainly. But one can be skilled, yet never use them to assist others. One can be smart, but remain uncaring to other’s plights. One can be brave, but recklessly so.”

“So then, what does make a hero?” He asked.

Ozma’s eyes glittered merrily. “What is it about Lady Rose that impresses you so?”

Ruby? “Well she’s… amazing.” He thought back on the train, how easily she got Dudley to listen to her when he couldn’t. How she commanded her team to focus. How even now her words to him back at the house at Haven still inspired him. “She can motivate others.”

“What do you think it is about her that gives her that ability?”

As he tried to think it over, he found he couldn’t pin down something tangible. It just seemed to be something that was inherently there. A piece of her that made people want to stand beside her. Something in the way she viewed the world, with such a bright and kind spirit, that made others want to do the same.

… Oh. “Her heart.” He said finally.

“Yes.” Ozma nodded. “A good, strong heart is first thing a true hero needs.”

Oscar placed a hand over his own. Did he have that?

“If I may be bold,” He added, tone amused. “I do think it is also worth saying that I do not often witness fourteen-year-olds rushing across the top of speeding trains. I believe what you lack is not any of the things you think you do, but merely your own self-belief.”

“What do you mean?”

“To have faith in others, first you must find it in yourself. Though, I will admit, in the face of failure, it can be one of the hardest things to hold onto.” As they reached towards the end of the trail, the world grew dark and grey as storm clouds hovered overhead, blocking out the sun. Ozma’s expression seemed to do the same as looked into the distance. “No matter how strong they are.”

Oscar stared as well, discovering that they had not entered the plains that would lead to the farm, but a courtyard leading to a school he had never seen in person, but recognized as if it were his own home. “Beacon.”

“How curious. I did say before this was your psyche we were traveling in. So why do you think it brought us here?” Ozma quipped.

He gazed upwards slowly, to the office he had once been able to mentally photograph perfectly, and knew exactly who was hiding within it.

Oscar squared his shoulders and held his head high just like his companion.  “I think it’s telling me it’s my turn to rescue someone from a tower.”

He walked forward.

~

A quiet, familiar ding roused Ozpin from his stupor. He lifted his head from his arms, finding it as heavy as the rest of him felt. He could hear the gears around him turning, and realized where he was. Asleep in his office again? Then no doubt it was Glynda coming to chastise him. He reached for his glasses, slipping them on to at least appear more presentable – and with it his hazy vision cleared, startling him when instead of his dear assistant, it was two familiar gentlemen approaching.

Right.

He was dead.

(How was Glynda doing? And… how long would it be until the truth got to her? What would she think of him then?)

“Ah, time for The Walk?” Ozpin asked, willing himself not to sink back to sleep.

“Wait. This is a thing?” Oscar asked.

Though he couldn’t muster a laugh, he could not help but be lightened by the boy’s simple innocence. He was going to go on to be a great reincarnation.

“It’s a practice I sometimes perform once my new host learns the full truth. I find it helps to uplift the spirit.” Ozma replies. “Though, it’s usually not this soon.”

Oscar turned to him. “I learned sooner than you?”

Ozpin crossed his hands, smiling to the boy. “Four years, to be exact. I was also twice your age.” He focused on one of the larger cogs underneath the glass surface if the desk, watching it turn. “I’m embarrassed to admit I purchased a one-way ticket to Vacuo that same day.”

“…What made you stay?”

What indeed. “As luck would have it, whether it be good or bad, a rather… problematic student was sent to my office that day. If I recall, this time around he had intentionally set the dust lab on fire.” Though, it could have also been the time he clogged the drain of the courtyard fountain. The record had become quite extensive. “Most of the other facility believed him to simply be a destructive sort. But I suspected different. Yet no matter how many times he was sent to my office, no matter how many conversations we had, I couldn’t get him to speak a word. He would just ask for his punishment in his crude way, pay it, and be back in a week.”

Ozpin rose to his feet, heading to his window that overlooked his former school. “That day though, on what I thought would be my last, I took a chance and acted on my suspicions.” His eyes darted to Oscar’s reflection as the boy approached. “You see, Beacon was always a school designed to have a low entry requirement. It was a school meant to train the best of the kingdom, but also be a shelter many could seek refuge in. Quite a few enrolled were those thrown from their own homes. So, I questioned him if that was what had happened to him and I learned more than I thought he would offer.”

He shut his eyes, still able to picture so clearly the seventeen-year-old Qrow that had eventually dissolved into tears, angry and pained by a world that didn’t want him and so full of hate at himself for a semblance he could not help. It seemed to be an impossible problem. Fortunately, Ozpin knew a bit about those. It was surprising to realize just how much of a difference a little empathy could go to heal a hurt soul.

“I did not stay that day for the war. I stayed because he helped remind me why being a professor could be so rewarding. I enjoyed having a part in my students’ lives, to help guide them into finding better ones.” He sighed. “I realize now that I’ve repaid him rather poorly for that.”

“So then, how are you repaying him any better by hiding away here?”

Ozpin turned to the boy, unsure if he was more surprised by his gall or his bull-headed honesty. In the background, Ozma started to chuckle.

“I did not lie before. I – we – do not know where to go from here.” And after so many lifetimes trying, maybe it was time to admit they just weren’t cut out for the task.

But it was Oscar, despite how he often quivered in the face of Grimm, who nodded and said. “Yeah, I know. And that’s scary.” He shifted on his feet, admitting softly, “But it’s even scarier facing it alone.”

That, more than anything, snapped him into wakefulness. You are meant to be guiding him Oz. What are you doing?

He placed a hand on his shoulder, knowing how much weight it was already carrying and much, much too much for one so young. “I’m so sorry, Oscar.”

“I am sorry too.” Ozma finally spoke, crossing over to them. “To both of you; that you must bear the burden of my mistakes as if they are your own.” He looked to each of them. “But if it is something we must bear together, then let us bear it equally, as we too should be.”

Oscar’s eyebrow rose in confusion, looking towards him for help. “Uhh…?”

He smiled. “He means that I need to stop treating you like a child."

“Oh.” He replied, seeming to take that newfound growth in. Whatever conclusion he came to made him nod once more, before he spoke again, “I’m sorry to both of you as well. I thought I was doing something right, with Jinn. I thought I was helping but all it did was end up hurting everyone.”

“You are certainly not the only one.” Ozpin agreed. The more he let those words sink in, the more he realized he was not the only one who needed to hear them. “Oscar?”

“Yes?”

“When we awaken, there’s someone I’ll need to speak with.”

The boy frowned. “Okay. But if he punches us again, I’m hitting him with the cane.”

Ozpin finally found it in him to laugh again.

[warrioronthehorse-blog]

2 Samuel 23

The inspired utterance of David son of Jesse,  the utterance of the man exalted by the Most High, the man anointed by the God of Jacob,  the hero of Israel’s songs:

The Spirit of the LORD spoke through me; his word was on my tongue. The God of Israel spoke, the Rock of Israel said to me: ‘When one rules over people in righteousness, when he rules in fear of God, he is like the light of morning at sunrise on a cloudless morning like the brightness after rain that brings grass from the earth.’

--

What does it mean to be a hero for God? 

I know that I desire fiercely to be a hero, to lead a life of extraordinary ability; of triumph. I chanced upon a book yesterday at Trinity Christian Centre: “the greatest of heroes overcome the greatest obstacles.”

David was amongst the heroes of heroes in the Bible, along with men such as Abraham and Joseph. But how does this jive with his inadequacies, with the fact that he had failed over and over again?

If we look at heroism not so much as the capacity for great deeds (which is merely a secondary characteristic of heroism in the Christian sense), but character, then David must surely qualify. It is about seeking God and letting him hold onto you in spite of all that may happen in one’s life.

Which is why I was uncomfortable with the fact that though we may be praying for our heart’s desire, God is greater than our sufferings. Should we not persevere through our pains and trust that he has a greater plan for us through these events?

Job struggled with the Lord for many, many books. And he was not even told the ultimate answer. But we see and valorise his capacity to seek the Lord even in times of suffering. There have been many heroes of faith in the Bible, the greatest of whom is Jesus Christ, the Son of God. 

He strode boldly towards the cross. He had no eye for the limitations of the world, the pain of a humiliating death. It did not matter to him - let only his Father’s will be done. There is a shattering of the distinction between the man and his idea here. Jesus Christ is the Gospel, come to save man from eternal damnation. He is the message. He is the good news, come to redeem the world. 

And so we must work out our salvation with fear and trembling. For we are not dealing with affairs of the world, but affairs that are greater than the world. We are interacting directly with the LORD himself, who made all things and knows all things. 

Let us not be Christians who adopt Pascal’s wager in form: belief only as a form of divine insurance. Let us believe with our whole heart, our whole might, our whole soul in the transcendent truth of Christ Jesus; one that has set us free from the limitations of the world.

--

A Christian hears differently. A Christian sees differently. Let our lack not become a limitation, O Lord. For we are not victims; we are victors in Christ Jesus. Let us turn to you in all things. Let us repent from the world and draw closer to you, each and every moment of our lives. 

Let me not fixate on the things I do not have. Let me not fixate on my social ineptitude, my inability to communicate my feelings properly, my awkwardness, my fear - none of these things matter in the face of the LORD. 

For endless days I will sing your praise, O Lord, O Lord, My God!!

--

The hero of faith renounces all things. The hero of faith sets his sights only on Christ Jesus - only on the transcendent truth that You can bring. But you will give us all that we need. You will give us precisely that which we need, not that which we want. Let us forsake forever our right to decide our own lives. Let us turn our eyes only to Christ Jesus, and be prepared to wage war for the Gospel. 

For this is the only message in the world which can save. 

Faith does not come from miracles, O Lord, but miracles from faith. Sometimes you withhold your signs and wonders for us in order to help us rely on childlike faith. Why bother with faith if we have evidence before our eyes?! 

And perhaps this is what it means to be a true Christian. Faith is a journey which we must walk alone; the ultimate communion between the individual and the Absolute. Between man and his maker. 

We face the world. We face our flesh. We face our ultimate adversary - Satan - who represents all that is evil in the world. And we shall not cower. For we are of the Lord, and we have overcome all things. 

--

We are free from the law, we are free from all condemnation! Do you not notice the freedom that you bear, my brothers and sisters? We are in the world, but no longer of the world. 

Greatest is the man who has striven with the LORD! Yet let us be cautious of pride. Let us remember that we have accomplished this through no feat of our own, but only through the loving mercy of Christ Jesus.

Our God is not our personal assistant. But he is our refuge, our protector, the glorious King which we must all swear fealty to. And did you not listen to the words of David? Divine authority blesses; it is like the morning sun after a thunderstorm. In fact, one has to go through the storm in order to witness the beauty and the glory of the storm.

Praise the Lord, O my Soul! Worship his glorious name! 

--

Could it also be that we were born servants of sin, in order to better understand the salvation that only Christ Jesus can bring? 

Is this not heroism above all heroes? They walk alone, but we walk with the Infinite paving all our ways!

--

An idea seemed to be taking possession of [Alyosha’s] mind - and it would be for his whole life and for eternity. He fell to the ground a weak adolescent, but when he rose to his feet he was a hardened warrior for life, and he felt and recognised this in a flash of ecstasy. And never, never in his whole life would Alyosha be able to forget this moment. ‘Someone visited my soul on that occasion,’ he would repeat later, firmly believing his own words...

Three days later he left the monastery, in accordance with the instruction of his deceased starts to ‘go out into the world.’ (Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov)