[ Ford hadn't read it as a goodbye at the time, and he doesn't read it that way now. Perhaps he might have, given Ozpin's admission to being weaker than Salem. Maybe if he had more time to think about the situation. But before he can devote any focus to that Ozpin gives him a few more pieces of very critical information.
The silence from Ford is longer this time, and completely devoid of even the sounds of him moving around or tinkering with his lab equipment in the background. Both of those descriptions put him in mind of something he's seen very, very recently. ]
Since she can control the Grimm, is it possible for her to make them behave in a docile manner, like a pet?
[ Ford doesn't wait for a response before he adds: ]
And Salem herself - does she have dark veins on her face and arms?
[ There is a sharp intake of breath, and then a stretch of frozen silence. Ozpin is processing this. He is not panicking. There is no reason to panic: Stanford is safe and alive, and thus she plainly did not notice him or take note of his significance. She does not know what he means to Ozpin. She is still new here, still lacking information, still alone.
It feels very much like panic anyway. ]
Yes.
[ This comes clipped and soft, and is followed immediately by the question he already knows the answer to: ]
[ That sharp inhale and ensuing silence is all Ford needs to hear to confirm his suspicions confirmed. The following question is one he's fully expecting, though he knows Oz won't like the answer. ]
I have. She's...
[ ... Hm. there's no way to break this news gently. ]
Well, we're neighbors, actually. We've met several times now.
[ Ozpin doesn't sound happy, but Ford supposes that's to be expected. He can't really be worried about it, though, not when busy thinking about the fact that Ozpin's probably just going to get more and more unhappy as the conversation progresses. ]
I was passing by her house when she first arrived and explained a few things about Deerington and Sodder. That was near the beginning of the month.
I've seen her a few times since then. We only finally spoke again several days ago, when I noticed an odd tar-like substance near her house and decided to investigate.
[ He's pretty sure he knows what that 'tar' actually is, now. ]
[ Stanford is known to her, then. He was useful. This is genuinely more terrifying than if he were a minor nuisance; he suspects she cannot be bothered with nuisances. She can, however, be bothered with those who are useful. She keeps track of them. ]
Stanford, I— I sincerely hope I do not need to impress upon you how dangerous she is. Few people associated with me have seen her and lived.
[ Ford's tone is gentle but insistent. He hadn't known at the time, sure, and it's not like he doesn't know he can be a bit reckless (KEEPING YOU ALIVE AND HAPPY IS A FULL-TIME JOB, he suddenly remembers Bill saying, and then he shoves the thought away) but even he hadn't missed that Salem was someone he should take care around.
Of course, he had still approached her, just with slightly more caution than usual. He's certain Ozpin would have preferred for him to 'take care' by avoiding her entirely. Ford can at least start doing that part now. ]
If you walk past my house and continue for...
[ He drums his fingers for a moment. ]
Perhaps a quarter of a mile you'll pass by her house. The tar was there, and seemed to be leaking directly from the basement or foundation.
[ There is another exhale from Ozpin's end, but he relents. So there is only a quarter-mile of distance between the man he is seeing and a woman who would pull him to pieces for that crime. She would slaughter the whole of the Pines household if she thought Ozpin held any fondness for him. She descends upon his friends and allies with the attitude of an exterminator.
And she is clearly acting more quickly than he'd hoped. If there is Grimm tar seeping from the foundation of her home, what is she making? What has she done?
He realizes this information has come from Stanford, and a new concern arrives. In tones of strained patience: ]
That tar is the source of the Grimm. It is the spawning place of new monsters, at her will or simply by its nature. Should any living being interact with it, the substance is severely toxic.
[ There is a question he is very loudly not asking, here. ]
[ Ozpin issues his warning in that strained, patient, pointed tone of voice and Ford slides his gaze over to the trio of vials lined up on his workbench, each one filled with a viscous black liquid. ]
Ah-- of course. I'll take care to avoid contact with it.
[ He should probably get rid of it. Can Grimm spawn from such a small source? He doesn't think he wants to find out - not while it's in his basement, at least. ]
[ That's good enough for him. Ozpin has far too many other things to worry about now to trouble himself with what Stanford's already done, or was planning to do. He is too busy worrying that the man has spoken to her. Offered her information. They are neighbors.
And he shall have to do something about it. He knows this with heavy, terrible certainty. He is unlikely to survive, but his odds are better than most. And it is, in the end, his burden to bear. ]
Good. This is... [ He trails off, hanging silent a moment, then exhales a tiny sigh. When he speaks, there is resignation in it beneath the strain. ] I'm afraid her arrival as a Sleeper constitutes a worst-case scenario. Please stay as safe as you can.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cryptograms) wrote2020-09-06 03:13 pm
no subject
The silence from Ford is longer this time, and completely devoid of even the sounds of him moving around or tinkering with his lab equipment in the background. Both of those descriptions put him in mind of something he's seen very, very recently. ]
Since she can control the Grimm, is it possible for her to make them behave in a docile manner, like a pet?
[ Ford doesn't wait for a response before he adds: ]
And Salem herself - does she have dark veins on her face and arms?
no subject
It feels very much like panic anyway. ]
Yes.
[ This comes clipped and soft, and is followed immediately by the question he already knows the answer to: ]
You have seen her?
no subject
I have. She's...
[ ... Hm. there's no way to break this news gently. ]
Well, we're neighbors, actually. We've met several times now.
1/3
You are neighbors.
[ This is echoed with incredulity, as though it will stop being true if he acknowledges how ridiculous it is. She— with the man he is dating— ]
2/3
3/3
What, exactly, do you mean by met?
no subject
I was passing by her house when she first arrived and explained a few things about Deerington and Sodder. That was near the beginning of the month.
I've seen her a few times since then. We only finally spoke again several days ago, when I noticed an odd tar-like substance near her house and decided to investigate.
[ He's pretty sure he knows what that 'tar' actually is, now. ]
no subject
You have spoken with her. More than once.
[ Stanford is known to her, then. He was useful. This is genuinely more terrifying than if he were a minor nuisance; he suspects she cannot be bothered with nuisances. She can, however, be bothered with those who are useful. She keeps track of them. ]
Stanford, I— I sincerely hope I do not need to impress upon you how dangerous she is. Few people associated with me have seen her and lived.
[ With a brittle note of urgency: ]
Where did you find the tar?
no subject
[ Ford's tone is gentle but insistent. He hadn't known at the time, sure, and it's not like he doesn't know he can be a bit reckless (KEEPING YOU ALIVE AND HAPPY IS A FULL-TIME JOB, he suddenly remembers Bill saying, and then he shoves the thought away) but even he hadn't missed that Salem was someone he should take care around.
Of course, he had still approached her, just with slightly more caution than usual. He's certain Ozpin would have preferred for him to 'take care' by avoiding her entirely. Ford can at least start doing that part now. ]
If you walk past my house and continue for...
[ He drums his fingers for a moment. ]
Perhaps a quarter of a mile you'll pass by her house. The tar was there, and seemed to be leaking directly from the basement or foundation.
no subject
And she is clearly acting more quickly than he'd hoped. If there is Grimm tar seeping from the foundation of her home, what is she making? What has she done?
He realizes this information has come from Stanford, and a new concern arrives. In tones of strained patience: ]
That tar is the source of the Grimm. It is the spawning place of new monsters, at her will or simply by its nature. Should any living being interact with it, the substance is severely toxic.
[ There is a question he is very loudly not asking, here. ]
no subject
Ah-- of course. I'll take care to avoid contact with it.
[ He should probably get rid of it. Can Grimm spawn from such a small source? He doesn't think he wants to find out - not while it's in his basement, at least. ]
no subject
And he shall have to do something about it. He knows this with heavy, terrible certainty. He is unlikely to survive, but his odds are better than most. And it is, in the end, his burden to bear. ]
Good. This is... [ He trails off, hanging silent a moment, then exhales a tiny sigh. When he speaks, there is resignation in it beneath the strain. ] I'm afraid her arrival as a Sleeper constitutes a worst-case scenario. Please stay as safe as you can.