expiationlogs | beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young [OPEN]

beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young [OPEN]

Who: Law & YOU
Where: Aldrip and the surrounding area
What: Settling in, getting up to hijinx, with a timeline anywhere from shortly after the TDM to the end of the month
Warnings: Probably nothin'.

Prompts in the comments, some open and some closed! Please feel free to drop any wildcards in the comments as well if there's something else you'd like to do. Law also has a toplevel at the Day of Devotion log, here!

If you'd like to plot something out, you can reach me on discord at tarocchi#8388, or on plurk at

astrologies!

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ It's not easy to sleep lately. There's just too much to think about. Mismatched memories with people from his own world, his father's alive, Rinwell's missing—everything's out of whack, and all the while he's being accused of killing people he didn't technically kill. The day to day happenings mostly take his mind off of it all, but when it's dark and he's gone to bed, Law's mind refuses to quiet. If anything, it only gets louder. Ordinarily he'd meditate, take some deep breaths, or something, but he's too unsettled even for that. Most nights he gets up and wanders off, but not very far from the inn where he and his friends are staying.

Tonight, though, he can't stand it anymore. He slips out late, late at night, silent as a ghost, and goes for a walk.

It's probably something like two or three o'clock in the morning, not a reasonable time for anyone to be wandering around town, but as of yet, he's found no reason to be concerned about a curfew and frankly wouldn't give much of a damn even if there were one. He's just wandering about harmlessly, anyway, for the most part—aimless and at a sort of ambling pace, but not nearly casually enough to constitute a simple stroll. Several times, he changes direction, but never pauses like he's lost or trying to decide where to go. He does pause anytime he sees another person, though, glancing their way almost hopefully before he continues wordlessly on his way.

Eventually, he ends up on the beach. When there's no further to go, what with the ocean in his way, he plops down in the sand with a long, almost exasperated sigh, and cocks his head back to stare up at the sky. The beach at night is the best place for a heartfelt chat, a moonlit battle, or an after-dark exchange of information, so the sky's the limit here. ]

[ There are plenty of things Law could be doing to help out around Aldrip, either just because he likes helping people or because he's trying to curry favor, gather information, and earn himself something of a living. Other than punching things, working over on the farmstead is probably the best use of his time, given how inexplicably prodigious he is at it. Not the growing crops part—he's basically useless at that. But managing the animals? You betcha.

Everything goes great the first few times he heads out there. He really has a way with the livestock, the herding dogs, even the barn cats. Production's up and the animals seem happier, and his laid back attitude makes it easy for others to feel comfortable asking him to jump in where he's needed, everything's awesome.

And then someone* leaves the gate open.

* not Law**

** allegedly

It's chaos. The sheep make a break for freedom, cascading out into the field and spreading out to graze. Then the chickens get in on the action and sprint for the hills. Everyone working the barns is running and yelling, frantically lassoing cows, the cattle dogs are basically going in circles, there are feathers everywhere. Madness. It takes awhile to restore some semblance of order, but there's still plenty more frantic running around to be done. Hope you weren't thinking of coming by for a tour today.

Law comes sprinting past, holding a struggling chicken in both arms. He looks like he's seen some shit. Or... hasn't, as it were. ]

Hey! Did you happen to see a sheep go by here? A big, wooly one? Answers to Lambchop?

[ Don't know why anyone would know the sheep is named Lambchop but don't worry about it. Anyway, the sheep he's looking for is about 40 yards over yonder, innocently milling about. Ya dude needs glasses. Also, he's just having a heck of a time. He could clearly use an extra pair of hands. Or eyes. ]

[ Now, more than ever, is when everyone should keep in tip-top shape and be prepared for anything, as far as Law is concerned. He'd think training is important no matter what the situation, really, but he's not taking any chances by slacking off. He prefers the arena for his workouts mostly for the opportunity to spar against other people, particularly ones he's never met before, so he can learn as much as he can about who he's dealing with here. That's an open invitation to anyone who steps up to the ring looking for someone to go head-to-head with: approach him and he'll generally always accept, or maybe he'll be the one to initiate with a quick, you in? As a martial artist, he's got no problems with going up against someone using a weapon, just as long as everyone keeps it sportsmanlike.

Or maybe, if fighting and sparring isn't your thing, yoga and meditation is? Anytime Law isn't throwing punches and pulling off sick moves, he can also be found diligently practicing his stances, working on his balance, or doing stretches that range anywhere from "seems easy enough" to "basically contorted into a human pretzel", or maybe just seated off to the side, cross-legged and eyes closed. If he doesn't look up and respond the first time you approach him while he's meditating, just, uh... try again. He's not ignoring anyone, he's just really focused. Balancing his energies and whatnot. It's important serious business and he definitely isn't bordering on asleep because he isn't getting enough rest at night. Nope. ]

[ This has been... a really weird few days. It's been said already. We all know it. But it bears repeating, because it has been a really weird few days. Law hasn't slept much, if at all, across any of them. Not the first night, because he'd spent it outside waiting for Rinwell to show up, completely unable to accept the idea of going to sleep when they haven't found her yet. Not the second night, because... see above. Not the third night either, because by then that constant note of strained worry had turned into agitated restlessness and he'd given up the tossing and turning to get some air. And so on and so forth, to the point that he now physically, noticeably feels the sluggishness in every bone and muscle.

But it can't be helped. How the hell is he supposed to sleep with his father in the next room? As in, how is he supposed to sleep with that on his mind, hanging over his head, plaguing his conscience, but also as in, when he's in another room and not visible? Even if he can put his various anxieties and his worry for Rinwell out of his mind, remembering Zephyr is here always manages to get him back up again as soon as he's gotten settled.

It's hard to say if it had been better or worse after they'd all met up together and sat in the same room. Law had purposefully found a spot in a corner so nobody could sit next to him or directly in front of him, not wanting to bear the brunt of the glances askance he knew he'd be getting from the others. Distance is an old band-aid he slapped over an even older wound, and it isn't doing him any favors now, but at least it hasn't forced him into having to confront anything he isn't quite ready to handle directly. Just because Zephyr's alive doesn't mean he has to be clinging to him every second. Or making eye contact, sometimes. Instead, he stares at the floor, his lips a thin line but his brows creased with something like worry or sympathy or regret.

At night, when the doors are closed and they're apart, the switch flips and it's all he can do not to whine outside his room to be let in. It's driving him absolutely out of his mind, constantly worrying that Zephyr might disappear if he leaves him unattended and out of sight for long enough, either by virtue of just... what, going back to being dead or something, or maybe that he'll up and walk off on him again. Like before.

So he just doesn't allow for it. Every few hours he's creeping like a shadow out of his room and putting those eavesdropping skills of his to use, lurking at the door and listening in. If he hears voices, fine. No need to listen to what they're saying, just knowing they're in there is enough. What he really wants to hear, though, is snoring. That's when he knows the coast's clear to peek inside, twisting the door handle ever so carefully and peering around just enough to get a glimpse of him, lingering just long enough to let his eyes adjust in the dark and make sure it's really him sawing logs over there. Once he's satisfied, he shuts the door again.

Repeat ad nauseum. Several times a night. For like, a week or two or however long it's been. And of course he doesn't say anything about it. Why would he? What would he even say?

Anyways, he's getting sloppy from all that fatigue. Doesn't have his wits about him. It's late but it's not that late, and as usual, Law's working on wearing a groove in the floor from all his pacing. Sometimes, if his dad's really knocked out, he can hear that storm drain snore clear or the tenor of his voice through the wall that separates them, but not tonight. And he's anxious. And tired. He doesn't really think straight, just exits his room and heads for Zephyr's. He pauses at the door, but he doesn't really listen for very long before he tries the knob. Slightly delirious, he pushes the door too far too fast so that there's no quick recovery short of just slamming the door shut again.

Too late for that. The light's on, idiot, you couldn't have checked for that under the door first? If this were Cysloden, he'd be getting a grade of S for Straight To the Prison Tower.

Still, the door's only actually open enough that he can barely fit through it. Law ends up doing the only thing he can think of, which is to just go with it he guesses, and pokes his head in, forcing some vague look of feigned concern to cover up the absolutely out-of-his-gourd tired and full of regrets that he actually is feeling right this moment. ]

...Dad? Are you okay? I thought I heard, uh... something.

[ Not a peep. But sure. ]

[ Joel doesn't sleep much, these days. Whether it's because he's getting older, or his trauma, or the fact that he spent the last six months or more traveling with a kid and needing to keep watch over their various encampments, or some combination of all of those things - a full night's sleep just isn't a thing he's capable of.

That, and he's recently been kidnapped to a strange place with no one he trusts, so he simply cannot let his guard down.

So yeah, he wanders a lot at night. Patrolling, getting the lie of the land, whatever. He's wary, is the point. There aren't many people around, despite the fact that there doesn't seem to be any kind of curfew. Most people just don't seem to have any reason to be out late. Which is fine by him. He prefers being alone.

Which means he's surprised, and not necessarily in a good way, when he climbs a rise of sand on the beach and there's a person there. Ah, great. Probably someone who's going to want to talk, make nice, tell each other things. ]

Not much nightlife here.

[Kisara's meant to get a better look at the farmlands, just for a better understanding of the area. She doesn't really work in that kind of field and there are multiple reasons as to why she ought to look into it. It'd be an excellent way to keep her hands occupied. And her mind. It'd let her learn something new. She's very likely to run into Law while doing so. All upsides, really.

Today, however, is a little more than what she's been prepared for. Whooping and hollering ensues and goes on around her. There's a sheep that practically propels its way past her and she's turning to watch it run in the opposite direction of the gate for the habitat.

When Law addresses her, she looks back to him.]

There was one that just passed me, but if you seriously named it after a food item, no wonder it's running away.

[Honestly, if she was called something like 'Nugget' or something, she wouldn't want to stick around either. Maybe the sheep thinks it's going to get stuck on a dinner plate.]

Do... you need some help?

[She gestures to the chicken that he's holding as it attempts to flap its very impressive chicken wings. At least, they look pretty impressive to her. Considering she knows nothing about chickens, she is probably not a very good judge of this.]

[Back on Dahna, Shionne was far too focused on her goals to ever really stop and appreciate things. Looking up at the sky always showed Rena and Lenegis lingering above the planet, reinforcing everything and making her feel the pressure of what she has to do until it was all she could think about.

Even with the addition of all the others to the party, she just felt it even more. The closer she gets to them, the more she knows that what she's doing is for the best. But now it's starting to dwell with a new feeling: regret.

Regret that she'll never get to see what Dahna will be like free. Regret that she'll leave others behind who might actually miss her. Regret that she can't be happy. Regret that she can't tell them because she doesn't want to place any burden on them like that.

It's no wonder that she can't sleep on this new world. It's too quiet.

As it is, she's standing on the beach, watching the night sky as the moon slowly moves across the horizon and letting the soothing sound of the water calm her down. She isn't ready for company, but it's not exactly surprising to see that Law also has too much on his mind to sleep properly.]

It feels strange not to see Rena and Lenegis when you look up, doesn't it? It feels.... lonely, in a way.

_{[ Fortunately (depending on your point of view) Law wasn't the only one struggling to sleep. The first night Zephyr couldn't get comfortable no matter how hard he tried, but whether it was because the bed was too soft or the blankets too warm was anyone's guess. The second night he'd managed a few scant hours in the chair provided by the inn, pulled up close to the small fireplace but it wasn't enough to put him at ease. He'd been alright despite a stiff neck until his dreams had taken a turn for the grim and once he'd jolted awake in a cold sweat, that was it. Night number three... Time had finally caught up to him and Zephyr had finally managed to pass out on the bed, rendering him dead to the world until the next afternoon. Ordinarily he might've felt a little embarrassed about sleeping so damned late but considering everything else, he's certain everyone would've understood.

The other thing that kept him up at night was knowledge he felt like he shouldn't have had. It was one thing to know what Law had been up to but what was truly eating away at the older Dahnan was the fact that he was lucky to be here. It was the unspoken truth that Zephyr would never live to see the world outside of Cyslodia. Hell that much doesn't even bother him in the long run — everyone dies, and he isn't special. No, what truly, honest-to-gods bothers him isn't his impending fate.

It's knowing that whenever the others look at him they don't see Zephyr. They see a ghost.

He can try to deny it all he wants but despite his age and the decades of explosives going off around his head and his broken eyesocket, his vision and hearing work just fine. Hushed voices and averted gazes speak volumes and maybe if he'd come from a later point in time he'd be more understanding of it, but Zephyr hasn't experienced it yet. Maybe if he were more eloquent with his thoughts and actually speaking them into being it'd be easier, but he's always been clumsy when it comes to expressing himself. Especially now. Realistically he knows he shouldn't be so... all of this and considering he has the one thing he'd selfishly wanted for years Zephyr had expected himself to be doing whatever he could to make up for lost time and past mistakes.

Dreams, all of it. Instead of getting up and doing any of it, Zephyr remains in his room at night. He listens to chatter on the other side of the wall, too muffled to pick up on exact words but still enough to tell the Dahnan that Law was... well. He has friends from other realms. That was what he and his wife had always wanted for their son. Friends that you can count on. By all means he has nothing to worry about regarding him anymore and yet Zephyr still feels the tingle of anxiety scratching at the base of his spine every time they look at one another. Or more accurately every time Zephyr looks at him because eight out of ten times Law winds up averting his own gaze towards the floor. Sometimes he can hear her voice in the back of his mind chastising him and urging him to go "make things right" but every time he tries, he turns into the coward he had years ago.

Tonight he's so engrossed in his own thoughts that he doesn't hear the door down the hall creak open like he sometimes does at this hour. Zephyr's attention is so focused at the worn band he keeps twisting around his ring finger that he doesn't feel the vibration of footsteps through the floor, and when he catches his door opening in his peripherals, he starts from the edge of the bed.

Knocking his knee right into the endtable with a short hiss and forcing a dog-eared book off the surface and onto the floor. Thwump. Hopefully that didn't wake anyone else up. ]}

For cryin—

_{[ Ah. ]}

—Law?

_{[ Who else would it be? For a good five seconds Zephyr just sort of gawps at the door, knee raised to keep it (and his foot) out of harms way and his right hand still touching the left, ring and all. A zeugle with its head caught in the food stores, this one. ]}

I... No, I'm fine. Just... Talking to myself, that's all.

[ Having another person come upon him here and say something that, he realizes, is directed at him and not someone else isn't necessarily unwelcome. Could he use someone to talk to? Maybe, yeah. Not about what's on his mind, if only because he's not sure he could ever just dump all his problems onto a complete stranger in an unfamiliar place, but... about nothing? Could be preferable to sitting here ruminating. He hates thinking too much, after all, and that's exactly what this is.

At the very least, it's not a total surprise someone else would come along. Even at this wild hour, Aldrip doesn't ever seem like it's completely asleep. Or maybe that's just the hypervigilance talking. ]

That's probably a good thing.

[ "Nightlife" is kind of an unfamiliar word, at least in the modern sense of what it means, but he gets the drift. ]

Not sure I've ever been anywhere that was so... naturally quiet. Peaceful?

[ Is that the right word? and also, but is it peaceful, though? are both present in that question mark. ]

Sorry if this is your spot. I can move.

[ The silhouettes the moonlight makes out of everything and everyone on the beach makes it hard to tell just what he's seeing, or who. It isn't until he's nearly flopped himself down entirely already that he realizes it's Shionne standing there, but the realization doesn't make him hesitate more than maybe a fraction of a second. Down he goes, digging his shoes into the sand. He can tell just by the outline, the shape of her dress and the fall of her hair, before she speaks up.

Even if she hadn't, he'd be comfortable here. After all, he hadn't left the inn to get away from anyone, necessarily, just... to get away from himself. His own head. And that didn't work, but honestly, did he really expect it to? It's all too commonplace by now for one or more of their party to be up past bedtime, lingering by the fire or loitering someplace on the fringes of their campsite, to silently drop down across from them and maybe not say anything, just... be in each other's company.

Even Law, loudmouth that he often is, appreciates the quiet times, too. ]

It's... confusing. Kinda thought I'd be glad to see a sky without either of them in it, but it's not like that at all.

[ The goal was never for Renans to disappear. That's not how you broker peace. Law searches the sky in silence for a few moments, finding the fathomless expanse a bit overwhelming to look at for too long. ]

Do you ever... miss it? Lenegis?

Crap.

[ "Just passed," she says, but when he looks around, squinting fitfully against his mediocre depth of vision, he can see no wooly beast responsible for making his day Difficult with a capital D. To his credit, Law only looks a little bit like he's been run ragged, the slightest bit flushed and sweaty, smudged with dirt and maybe a few errant chicken-talon scratches. It could be worse. One of the local farmhands got a pair of billygoat horns to the ass and he's probably not gonna be sitting anytime soon. ]

—Oh, they're all called stuff like that. This is Omelette.

[ A little less aggressively offensive, since the egg's already hatched into a moderately-sized chicken, but still kinda fucked up when you think about it. Which, as usual, Law isn't, or wasn't, nor will he ever. Said moderate chicken alternates between acting as though it hopes to take flight from the secure grip of Law's arms and seemingly being quite comfortable there, an unpredictability that has led him to decide to just not ever loosen up on the poor thing for anything. Last thing he needs is a fleeing chicken, too.

Again. ]

Actually—yeah, if you've got time. Do you wanna hold her while I try and wrangle Lambchop back in the paddock? That's the last escapee. Other than getting the chickens back in the coop, I mean, but that's the easy part.

[ So much for stealth. To be fair, that all went out the window the moment Law left the room half-cocked to stalk his dad again, but still, Law winces partly in sympathy, partly in apology, and partly out of concern that they just woke the whole damn inn. There aren't any immediate reactions to the minor ruckus, though, so maybe they're lucky this time around. ]

S-Sorry. I—yeah. Of course you're okay. Probably just... someone outside or something.

[ You'd think that would be grounds to make an excuse to go check for this so-called prowler, but Law isn't thinking even remotely about any logical processes here. It's just pure blurting out whatever comes to mind and hoping nobody, namely Zephyr, asks any questions.

You'd also think this would be a fine time to excuse himself and leave, but much like his father, Law has the same sort of "busted" look on his face, gaping right back. It's the first time in awhile, since he started these late-night check-ins, that he's really been able to see him. Of course he sees him during the day, but it's... different at night. When they're apart and there's nothing for him to do but lay there and ruminate, and worry, and let his mind run away with all the things that are bothering him. He takes in the whole picture: the offended, bumped knee, the slouch of his posture at the table, one hand over the other, fingers pinched around... his ring. That's the sobering sight that finally smartens Law up, his teeth going straight for the inside of his lower lip and biting down.

His gaze may drift askew, like it often does, but it doesn't fix itself pointedly somewhere else, and the only expression really left on his face is the fatigue: heavy, ringed eyes, strain in all of his features like it's taking effort to keep them taut. ]

...You sure? It's late. Should be asleep.

[ Look who's talking. ]

_{[ Zephyr glances towards the window flanked by the tackiest curtains he's ever known which is really saying a lot considering there was a distinct lack of decor in the average Calaglian "home". Sure there've been the tell-tale signs of wildlife howling out in the fields beyond Aldrip and maybe an occasional cat fight (he since discovered that was the source of the Mystery Someone Being Murdered some nights ago), but nothing that has concerned him too much since then. He's even taken to sleeping with it open if only to take advantage of fresh air without nary a trace of smoke from mining pits or the distant stench of heavy machinery which, uh. Would be a terrible idea if someone had ill intentions within the town, but so far everything seems fine. Probably. ]}

Could've been, but I haven't heard anyth...

_{[ It's murmured mostly to himself, but loud enough for Law too. As he turns back to look at him, Zephyr's brows pull together in a barely-there frown as he finally takes in his appearance. His stance against the door, the dark "bruising" under his eyes, and the almost-glassy look in them is enough to make him slowly stop fidgeting with his ring. There it is again between them — that odd uncertainty like they're both standing on opposite ends of a rickety bridge bouncing in the wind. If Zephyr feels like something big ran him over then Law looks like something did. ]}

You're the one who should be asleep, son. Have you seen yourself lately?

_{[ Should he get up? Should he walk him back to his bed and make sure he goes to sleep? Maybe he should, but then he'd also risk waking up the boys — boys, as if they're both not in their twenties and probably thirties — if he did that. No doubt they'd start fussing too which necessarily wouldn't be a bad thing, but if Law is anything like how Zephyr was (and is), then that might prove to be more of a detriment than anything. So, Zephyr twists his ring around one more time and lets it go. His fingers rest over the former spirit core after that, itching to fidget with something.

You never used to be like this with him, he thinks to himself. He's your son.

He takes a slow breath and wills himself to not look away despite an unseen weight trying its best to coax him to. He can't keep running if he wants to try and fix this like he said weeks ago. ]}

You, uh. Bad dreams?

_{[ Because he's not the only one in that case. ]}

Huh? No, why?

[ Does he look tired? It's slipped his notice. A lot of things have, which really goes to show just how much he's changed since he left Cysloden. This kind of inattentiveness is the sort of thing that got you killed or shipped off to the floodlights. You couldn't afford to look tired, to start getting sloppy, missing details that could end in a report or some other kind of backstabbing. He knows how he feels, though: tired as hell. He knows he hasn't slept.

Law feels himself shrinking, a little, under Zephyr's gaze, but just as soon as he does, he pushes back, stands up a little straighter where he's hovering in the half-open doorway. As always, he wants to just let himself in, shut the door and stay here—he'd thought about it a couple times, honestly. Just sit on the floor and watch his father sleep, make sure nothing happens to him, and then be gone before he wakes up. Maybe not even that. Just stay. Sleep on the floor. Make up an excuse. But instead of give in to it, he goes on hovering, uncertain.

He does, at least, meet Zephyr's eye again, finally. ]

It's not that, I just... can't sleep. Someone's gotta keep watch, right?

[ That's a flimsy excuse and he knows it. This time he really does look all the way away. He wants to tell him, but he holds himself back there, too. Why is it so hard to just... reach out to him? Be honest. He sure was when he was screaming I hated you back in that alleyway, but now everything's so real. ]

I'll wear myself out eventually. It's okay.

No it isn't.

_{[ As gentle as his voice is there's an underlying layer of that good ol Parental Authority even if it doesn't show on Zephyr's face. There's working hard, then there's running yourself ragged and that's something Zephyr knows all too well. In the early days before the Crows were even an idea he'd taken it upon himself to stand watch for entire days as if it was going to prove something to the man who had taken him under his wing. That, of course, had resulted in a rather painful lesson some days down the line when he could barely focus on a thing that he'd been telling Zephyr and as a result wound up with a busted nose because he didn't hear him say block. Needless to say he had to learn mighty quick what his own limits were and that it was okay to let others take over and help from time to time.

Sometimes if Zephyr looks long enough he can see more of himself in Law than he wants to admit.

It's only when Law drops his eyes elsewhere that Zephyr sighs and brings his hand up to rub at his beard, mere seconds away from pinching the bridge of his nose. There's no need to get exasperated with him. Not while things were like this. That doesn't mean he can't let this slide though so after a few moments he pulls himself up to his feet and pads across the room as casual as can be, and reaches over Law's head to carefully and slowly push the door shut behind him. As much as he always wants people to make their own choices, this is one Zephyr is making for Law. You know, just for his own well-being.

A moment of hesitation and then that same hand moves to settle between Law's shoulderblades. Any other time and Zephyr might've laughed at how normal this must look from the outside; himself in pajamas that shockingly fit and his own son worn down looking like he was just an ordinary kid who had a bad dream. Like they were normal and not... the way they were now. ]}

Go grab a blanket.

_{[ And sit down sits nice and quiet at the end of it. As much as he wants to keep hovering, he doesn't and instead goes to throw another log or two on the fire. Once it's good and burning with plenty of heat again, Zephyr gestures to a spot on the rug some feet away and moves to sit down himself. Here. ]}

Doesn't belong to me.

[ Joel's not exactly claiming property here. He doesn't mind a little company, as long as it's not annoying - as long as he's not being asked prying questions about himself. He's fine talking about this place, though. ]

You a city boy then? [ Joel remembers what downtown Austin used to be like. The crowds, the noise, the lights. He'd never especially liked it, which was why they'd lived out in the 'burbs when he could afford the down payment on a house. ]

[ There's no need to put up a fight about it. He could make some stupid argument about being too old for his dad to tell him about bedtime, or that he doesn't have any business parenting him, or any of that garbage, but right now... god, he just doesn't have it in him for that level of resistance. That level of bitterness. It's not gone, he hasn't forgotten or forsaken it, it just isn't the prevailing thought in his mind. Hasn't been for a few days now. No matter what things have been like between them since they found each other at the arena, he hasn't once looked at his father with anything even remotely resembling malice. Not like back in Messia.

All he does is make a soft, sort of confused sound, and then another one that just sounds kind of—lost, as Zephyr ushers him in. A literal little push and a metaphorical one, too, exactly what he needed to stumble over that line in the sand between them and approach this without so much hesitation. Without looking up, he does as he's told and grabs a blanket from the bed, a bigger one that feels softer than most things he can remember ever having, save for maybe at the inn in Viscint, and brings it with him to sit down by the fire.

For the time being, he doesn't do anything with it just yet; rather, he keeps part of it wadded up in his hand, the rest piled on the floor next to him. Instead, he stares into the fireplace for a moment or two, watching the flames consume one of the logs, before he flicks his gaze in Zephyr's direction. ]

Sorry if I intruded on your... uh, talking to yourself time.

[ ?? weird but ok. Another pause, then— ]

I didn't actually hear anything. ...I was just checking on you.

[ Any other time and he probably would be annoying, by virtue of his lack of an indoor voice. Right now is Serious Business Emo Times, though, which calls for the quiet, Serious Business voice.

At any rate, cool, he'll just cross his legs and settle in for the long haul. ]

You could say that. I was born in a small village, and the last place I lived was a city, but it's more that... most places where I come from are all hushed-up at night. The quiet felt tense, even in the wilderness between towns. Like walking on eggshells, y'know? But here, everybody settles down for the night like they don't got anything to worry about.

[ A one-shouldered shrug. And then, after a pause, a quick glance aside. ]

Almost everyone, I guess.

_{[ All at once his posture relaxes when Law falls into place at his side, and without so much as a sigh Zephyr reaches about to pull the edge of the blanket up and over his shoulders. Law can keep the bunch in his hand, but let the old man go through the motion and routine of bundling someone up. There's just an extra layer of tenderness to it with his son, that's all. Hell, it doesn't even make itself known save for the lingering touch to one of his shoulders or an almost-worried stare.

He keeps his own fussing up until Law starts to speak, and that's when Zephyr lets his hands fall back over his own knees. That's... Huh. ]}

You didn... Checking on me?

_{[ Huh?? ]}

Why?

_{[ No judgement. Only some honest, gentle curiosity. ]}

Just 'cause.

[ So weird. He hasn't been attended to like this in a dog's age. Certainly wasn't anyone to do it for him after he left home, and nobody's really doing that for each other among his group of friends, either. Not really. There are certainly friendly gestures, they help each other out, contact happens, looking after one another and all that, but... this is kind of different. A little bit clammed up, Law watches Zephyr's hands move about from the corner of his eye, not with wariness but more like how you'd watch a bird that lights on the table beside you. Trying not to make it obvious you're looking, trying not to call attention to yourself and scare it away.

It's only after Zephyr draws back that Law finally spreads the blanket out, part of it over his legs, crossed in front of him, the rest of it offered out for his father to drape over himself if he wants. All that fidgeting about buys him a moment or two to not have to actually answer the question. When there's no more fidgeting left to do, Law bites the inside of his cheek again. ]

...Just 'cause. [ Uh huh. You said that already. ] I mean, you're by yourself in here. Wouldn't know if something happened.

[ And boy oh boy has his mind been running wild with all the many things that could happen. ]

Me being in here on my own was the only thing that made sense. You put me in with you three boys and it'd have been more cramped than the house was when you were a kid, and the girls... They don't need an old man like me intruding on their space. I'd wind up driving them crazy with my sleep mumbling as is.

_{[ Or Dahna forbid spilling all sorts of embarrassing childhood stories about Law, but he doesn't need to say that. There's also the matter of the whole "literally-dead-to-them" berserker-sized zeugle in the room that Zephyr isn't entirely sure how to address which only adds on another awkward layer of complication. The thought still crosses Zephyr's mind and it pulls a barely-there frown out of him, but it disappears in favor of taking the offered corner of the blanket and pulls it over his own shoulder.

It's a far cry from the moth-eaten fabrics he'd grown accustom to back in Ulzebek. A lot warmer and heavier, too. ]}

Besides... What would even happen? Besides banging my knee on the table or stubbing my toes on the rest of the furniture, 'course.

_{[ Y'know, besides the worst? Falling out the window? Smothering himself to death in the blankets without meaning to? Nicking himself with the straight razor when he shaves in the morning? ]}

[ Joel shrugs. ]

We just got kidnapped. No matter how nice this place seems, it's a prison, and we were brought here for a reason. Letting my guard down would be stupid.

A prison... I guess it is, yeah. Dragging people in on false charges and everything.

[ Well, false is debatable, but he's more comfortable with denying it than letting on that there might be anything complicated about it. ]

What I wanna know is, where're all the prison guards hiding, then?

[ No arguments there. No arguments when they'd decided on rooming arrangements, either. It made sense to divide them up, girls and guys. Nobody complained about Zephyr having his own space (although Law suspects, just based on the split-second looks in his direction he might've just imagined, that some among them expected him to room with his dad, for no reason other than that they're related and maybe it would be good for them? But when the conversation was happening, he'd purposefully kept his mouth shut). It shouldn't have been a problem. It isn't a problem, Law insists on correcting himself.

He just hadn't accounted for the way his mind would run away with fears and worries whenever they'd end up apart for very long. Without any distractions to keep him focused elsewhere, the comfort of daylight hours, safe company to keep, and plenty to keep them occupied. He hadn't been prepared to feel the emotions he feels, either. Afraid for Zephyr's safety, and an almost painful pull to just... want to see him again. To talk to him. To make sure he's still there.

Law's shrug is more of a prolonged hunch of his shoulders, raising them practically to his ears and leaving them there for a long couple of seconds. He looks away, staring into the fire again with an expression that could almost pass for frustrated. If he is experiencing any feelings related to anger, it's directed more at himself than anything else. Zephyr's right, there's nothing to worry about. He's being irrational. He's being a lot of things, and he needs to cut it out.

He mutters his answer almost under his breath. ]

Nothing needs to happen for you not to be here.

[ And then a little less mutter-y, ]

But if something did, I just want to know before it's too late.

_{[ Years ago the natural course of action would've been to have thrown his arm around Law's shoulder and pull him into his side. As it stands Zephyr winds up shifting his attention to the fire and turns his left hand into a loose fist in order to brush the tip of his thumb against the underside of that ring. Does it do anything? No, not really, but it's a comfort regardless. It's also subtle enough to pass off as flexing his fingers too because just as he makes contact with the smooth metal, he's rubbing his palms over his knees. At least there's one small bonus to whatever they're doing right now; Zephyr doesn't have to see Law looking at him like he's a ghost.

That, he thinks, is the worst part of it all. When he'd think about reuniting with his son he never imagined it would've been like that. He never imagined things would've gone the way they evidentially did, and maybe if he had gone about things differently they would've gone better. Maybe he wouldn't feel the prickle of anxiety every time he'd look Law's way or feel the pull in his heart urging him to glue himself to his back.

Maybe he wouldn't be such a damn coward. ]}

I told you I wasn't going anywhere, didn't I?

_{[ Too defensive? Not at all, but Zephyr shakes his head with a low exhale. ]}

You have every reason in the world to not trust a word I say, but... I meant it. I'm not going anywhere. Where would I even go, anyway?

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beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young [OPEN]

AFTER HOURS - OPEN

OLD MCLAWNOLD HAD A FARM - OPEN

BACK ON THE TRAIN GANG - OPEN

CLOSED TO ZEPHYR

INSOMNIACS UNITE

ROOSTER 101 EDUCATE HER

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sleep is for chumps

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IT'S CLUCKIN' TIME

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