It’s Friday! Which means I get to spend my time writing meta if I so choose. Today’s topic is Oscar. Specifically the question posed by @dreanner95 on another post of mine: “How have the characters in the show treated Oscar badly?” (Full asks are at the end of the meta.) I’ve covered this topic at length in my episode recaps, but I want to pull everything together into one post, both for easy, future access—here’s the answer to this question!—as well as to put the whole of it into perspective. Because as we’ll see in a moment, Oscar’s treatment is something slow and perpetual. You’ve got to take it all into account to understand just how badly things are going for him.

To start, though this meta is focused on the material of Volume Six, it’s worth pointing out something from Volume Five. Namely that Oscar isn’t an integrated part of the team yet. Volume Five is easy-going material compared to Volume Six. A whole lot of hanging out around the house as opposed to stressful, traumatic encounters with baddies. Meaning, that was the perfect time to start incorporating Oscar into the main group, but that didn’t happen very much. Not to the extent we need it to. Because Oscar isn’t just Oscar anymore, he’s Oscar housing Ozpin, and it’s Ozpin who bears the focus of everyone’s attention (a problem that becomes exacerbated in Volume Six). The vast majority of Oscar’s scenes feature Ozpin speaking, or are about Oscar’s new relationship with Ozpin, or are more generally about the war and how to prepare for it—see the training scene where Oscar is struggling to learn the basics of combat. For the most part Oscar is not at the center of anyone’s attention, Ozpin is, with the exception being Ruby’s talk with him downstairs. There Ozpin keeps quiet to let the two work out their grief and fears, making it one of the most powerful moments of the volume. But it’s not nearly enough. I’ve spoken before about how we don’t know much of anything about Oscar. Unlike the other characters who all embody details that help us to see them as well-rounded individuals—Yang loves making jokes and her bike, Blake is a bibliophile and invested in faunus rights, Jaune still wears a Pumpkin Pete sweatshirt and trains at night with Pyrrha’s video, etc.—three volumes in and Oscar is still defined almost exclusively by that moment when Ozpin slammed into his head and everything that has happened since then. No hobbies, no dreams, no talk of his family… we’re given only one, narrow lens to view him through. Which doesn’t just make it more difficult for the audience to become invested in him, but difficult for the other characters as well. Oscar doesn’t join the group during their bonding dinner. With the exception of Ruby, he doesn’t get to form strong ties with them. He’s the outsider here, the one person who doesn’t have a year of Beacon friendship and life or death missions to draw on, and it shows. Because though the cast clearly loves him (more on that later) his outsider status remains, making it really easy for the others to dismiss him, hurt him, or shrug him off when things start getting tough. Because he’s not really one of them. This isn’t Jaune with Ozpin stuck in his head. Or Ruby. Or Yang. It’s just Oscar, the random kid who appeared on our doorstep one day, joined our group when we never asked, and who we still know next to nothing about even after three volumes of material. The characters just don’t care about him as much as they do the core group, even though at this point they should, setting up a situation wherein he becomes expendable. Especially when everyone is focused on getting back at Ozpin. They’re willing to hurt Oscar to get at Ozpin in a way I don’t think they’d be comfortable with if it was anyone else. If Nora had Ozpin stuck in her head? No one would be assaulting her or saying she’s doomed to just be his meatsuit her whole life. They’d defend and support her in ways no one is willing to do for the literal child of the group. Because no one has been given the chance to get to know the kid and come to truly care for him.

So let’s rehash what the group actually does to Oscar over the course of Volume Six.

To start, there is that ongoing sense that he has no place in this group. Oscar exists only as a vessel for Ozpin. When everyone is waiting for the train the focus in clearly on team dynamics. “I know you’re worried, Weiss, but trust us. Team RWBY won’t leave your side for a second!” Yang and Ruby are interacting as sisters. Nora and Ren are interacting as a couple. There’s a clear division between RWBY and JNR visually, with the former on the right side of the screen and the latter on the left.

Oscar sits sort of between both, not speaking, not being spoken to until Ozpin makes a joke about the train goons hopefully not being from Beacon. Then Oscar expands on the humor and gets a round of appreciative nods. That’s it though. On the train Team RWBY and their Uncle Qrow all make plans to play video games. We know Team JNR was hanging out because they all arrive together when trouble starts. Meanwhile, we find Oscar in a cabin full of random people. He’s not spending time with or being invited to either group here. He’s just got Ozpin. Ozpin who is the focus of everyone’s attention. When the others arrive Jaune immediately asks, “What’s going on?” and it’s pretty clear the question is directed at Ozpin, not Oscar. Because Oscar just insisted that he wanted to keep control, but now he’s fumbling. He doesn’t know what’s going on and now here Jaune is (unintentionally) reminding him of that. He’s a farm boy, not a huntsmen. Certainly not the huntsmen either. Everyone wants Ozpin around to fix things and if there’s nothing to fix? You don’t need to stay.

It’s a dynamic that’s going to repeat throughout the volume, starting at the farm house. Ruby will go off with Weiss, Blake will go off with Yang… and everyone is going to leave Oscar to stay behind with Maria, doing nothing and being babied.

Team RWBY will go retrieve the relic. Oscar can once again stay behind and figure out how to fix their transportation. Because Qrow will be busy drinking.

And then again in “Dead End,” which I’ll get to below.

After the train we have the punch scene and I’m not sure how else to explain to people how not okay this is. I don’t care how high emotions were. Oscar is bearing the brunt of Ozpin’s (perceived) sins in a truly horrendous manner. He’s intimidated, screamed at, chucked into a tree. Keep in mind this is the body that only started figuring out aura a few weeks ago and we’re shown straight out that Qrow’s punch, a punch from an incredibly powerful huntsmen, hurt like hell. The second Ozpin leaves Oscar is wincing and touching his cheek.

What stands out to me is not that the cast is human and makes mistakes and loses their temper—because obviously all those things are valid—but rather that we see throughout the course of Volume Six that no one is willing to acknowledge, let alone act on, the fact that Oscar is a victim of circumstance. No one calls Qrow out on hitting the innocent kid along with the guy he’s mad at. No one tries to calm things down so that Oscar isn’t shouldering their tempers when he’s done nothing wrong. Everyone is happy to vent their anger and fears on him because he’s convenient. Case in point, even with Ozpin gone Yang is still screaming in his face. She doesn’t care if that’s Ozpin or Oscar. Same body, no difference.

No one cares enough about Oscar as an individual to question how their actions might hurt him along with Ozpin. They don’t care enough about him as an individual, period. With the knowledge that Ozpin is truly gone for the moment, the group segues into ignoring him. Oscar is in the process of breaking down right in front of them—grabbing his hair, yelling about how he needs it all to stop—but the group talks over him, jumping straight to panic about what they’ll do now that Ozpin has left. Oscar is no longer functioning as their go-between. He’s useless, he looks like a man they hate, and he doesn’t have that emotional connection to the group. So why do they care that he’s having a breakdown? They don’t. Imagine if this was literally anyone else in the cast. The group would be all comfort and sympathy. Instead, we’re given a shot that could easily be from Oscar’s perspective. His entire identity is falling apart and all he’s given in response to that is Weiss looming over him, still talking about Ozpin, still only worrying about how this all effects them. A ‘them’ Oscar isn’t fully a part of.

It’s a problem that Ruby tries to address by giving him back his cane, but Qrow undermines that like whoa.

I shouldn’t have to establish how utterly horrible this is. The adult telling the child, ‘No. You’re not your own person. Get over it. I’m a good guy for telling you the hard truth.’ It’s made even worse by Ruby’s silence. She doesn’t challenge Qrow’s words. Her sad expression conveys that she agrees with him—her earlier words were indeed “lies”—and Oscar is left to walk away, once again without any support. What little he was offered was wrenched away from him by an authority figure. Throughout “The Coming Storm” we see just how isolated he is. He walks at the very back of the group, away from everyone else. He looks terrified entering the house, re-emphasizing that he’s not a trained huntsmen like the rest of the group and was never given a choice about adopting this life. When he helps Blake and Weiss move the dresser in front of the door, they hold a short conversation over his head. As Ruby approaches the pictures on the wall, we hear Oscar theorizing about how this room is a study or a library, but no one answers him. Then, as said, they all split and leave Oscar behind, despite the fact that he’s the first to back Ruby’s plan to look for supplies. On their own none of these details necessarily mean anything, but put together they paint a bleak picture—and one that I am personally familiar with. I’ve been in groups where I’m clearly the outsider and this is precisely how I’m inclined to act: try to be helpful even when it goes ignored, try to start conversations even when no one answers. You just keep trying because what else can you do? You feel horribly awkward, but it’s better than accepting that no one wants to interact with you.

Note that all of this is a direct parallel to what we get in “Dead End.” Both moments begin with Oscar trying to help the group, first by giving them a means of accessing the secrets they so desperately want—“Say her name to summon her”—here by starting a pep-talk when Ruby is unable to. “Look, none of this is great, we know,” Oscar says. “But we’re not the bad guys here.” To which Jaune responds with, “Are we sure about that?” Now, suddenly, Oscar isn’t just the bystander who happens to be hurt along the way. He is the immediate victim here. All the dialogue is directed to and about Oscar, blaming him and putting the responsibility on his shoulders: “He’s in your head isn’t he?” “Did you already know about this?” “How much longer can we even trust him?” “How do we even know it’s really him?”

We have another physical assault, this time with Jaune slamming Oscar against the wall and shaking him.

Weiss, Yang, and Ruby yell out, but none of them make a move to stop him. Everyone just stands there, allowing Jaune to do as he pleases. In the past year people have been very uncomfortable with me referring to the group as kids or children, insisting that real life markers of adulthood (hitting 18) trumps their lack of experience and emotional instability. These are adults, Clyde. Okay then. Let’s work with that. This is an adult attacking a child. For the second time in as many days. We have now twice seen an adult use a 14yo as an emotional and literal punching bag, doing whatever they please to the real life equivalent of a middle schooler.

And once again, no one cares. Oscar was just attacked again, he flinches when Jaune walks past, and the first words out of anyone’s mouth are worry for Jaune. Not the kid who just dealt with a much bigger, much stronger, much older man taking his anger out on him. Not the kid who is standing right there and listening to where everyone’s loyalties lie. Oscar learns fully in this moment that when push comes to shove, he’s never going to be anyone’s priority.

We see the split in teams again. “I think it would be best if we had some time to ourselves,” Ren says, clearly talking about Team JNR since they’re all going upstairs together. Team RWBY is left in the living room… with Oscar outside of that.

So he leaves.

Which is when the writing shows us its priorities too. Oscar is housing the most important character in this entire war and, like it or not, he’s supposed to be a part of the team now. If there was ever a time to provide him with space to grow and to give the audience insight into who he is outside of Ozpin’s influence, this was it. Ozpin is conveniently quiet. The group has driven him away. We have a two week hiatus implying a major episode when we come back. Anything could happen, from Oscar getting kidnapped and coming into some power, to him working through his issues and deciding why the hell he should stay with a group that doesn’t need him and clearly doesn’t want him. Instead, we get another episode about Jaune and EVERY bit of potential character development for Oscar happens off screen. All we learn is that Oscar went shopping. Oh, and cooked them dinner.

Notice that Oscar is desperate to prove himself useful; to do things in the hope that it will earn him some form of praise and acceptance. Jaune yells about how I’m a liar and not to be trusted? I get thrown around and no one cares enough to check up on me? That’s fine. I’m gonna give them space, not kick up a fuss, make a nice meal for everyone to come home to… Oscar can’t stick up for himself because if doing nice things—helping you get Ozpin’s secrets, trying to cheer everyone up, etc.—results in violence, what the hell would they do if he actually got mad at them? No, no, no, I’ll just keep being calm, perfect Oscar.

Yes, Jaune apologies for his behavior, but notably Oscar interrupts him and tries to justify it. I’m worried about the same things too, so it’s totally okay that you expressed those fears the way you did. I’m the expendable one.

It gets even worse when Oscar starts speaking as if he has a terminal illness. Once again he’s buying into the idea that he’s no one now, existing only to ferry Ozpin’s soul, and like out in the snow this idea isn’t challenged by anyone. This exchange boils down to, ‘I’m convinced I’m going to cease to exist so I’ll just keep helping you all as much as possible until I’m gone.’ Oscar is making the claim that helping them—being the good outsider who makes them meals and promises not to worry them again, despite the fact that they’re the ones who drove him off in the first place—is all he’s good for now.

And what’s the group’s response to this?

Along with a whole bunch of smiles.

Combined with their overall treatment, this reads as horrendously alarming. Why worry too much about how you’re treating Oscar when Oscar is destined to die, merge, whatever? He’s literally theorizing about a scenario where one day the group won’t have to deal with him anymore, but until then he’ll be as helpful as he can. It’s an easy out for them. Yay! We won’t lose the Ozpin vessel who we technically still need, but now he says we don’t have to worry about his trauma anymore. Those pesky things like terror over his identity are being buried and the problem is that no one is inclined to challenge that. A few days after Qrow claims he’s not his own person, Oscar announces, ‘You know what? He’s right. I’m not. So I’ll just be useful until I disappear.’ And everyone is happy with that new plan. No one cares enough about Oscar to push back against this passiveness, to worry about his mental health, even just to express grief that they may one day lose him. There’s so much concern and care shown among the group, from the big (everyone supporting Yang through her PTSD) to the small (Blake finding an extra blanket for Weiss). But twice now we’ve seen Oscar breaking in front of an audience and no one bats an eye. Twice we’ve seen him harmed and no one cares. The rest of the time he’s barely acknowledged at all. Not unless he’s making himself known and that, as we’ve seen, is dangerous.

I mentioned way at the start that the concept of the group loving Oscar would come back into play. In short, I think you can love someone—or convince yourself you love someone—and still treat them like shit. The group might be “worried sick” when something major happens to Oscar like a disappearance, but on a day-to-day basis they treat him pretty horribly. They care about his physical safety, but not his emotional or mental well being. He’s not truly a part of their teams, he’s constantly conflated with Ozpin, his fears about losing his identity are reinforced multiple times, and there’s now a pattern of the group using him as an emotional and physical outlet when it proves convenient for them. Could they treat him worse than this? Yeah, of course, but they could treat him a whole lot better too. For me, Nora giving a big “OSCAR!” hug or Blake exchanging pleasantries on the farmhouse steps doesn’t mean a thing when, during more significant moments, they don’t stick up for him. Not when he’s being physically assaulted, not when others are emotionally harming him, not when Oscar himself basically announces that he’s accepted a death sentence. The group loves Oscar… but it’s highly conditional. If they love someone else more (like Jaune) or hate someone else enough (like Ozpin) then he’s going to suffer for it. Oscar is not enough of a member of the group for them to ever prioritize and sadly it doesn’t look like that’s going to change anytime soon.







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