[ yeah. he returns the hug, easy, bowing half over. his shoulders are usually straight and proud, but in moments like these, he slouches. the pressure and guilt is heavy, but they're both wrung out.
there's a little pang of something at the ages bit, longing and then a little warmth, relief, because they are together again, and... ] ... It would have been here, not before. It happened not all that long ago. My father left a letter for me in a fireproof box, in the ruins - I went back, with Will. To Halia.
[ even saying the name, there's that maelstrom, grief and hurt, grief, grief, grief. home, his beloved home. standing in the rubble is such a stark, familiar memory even still, and it was will who helped him get through enough to read the letter, to actually walk through the destroyed streets of his childhood. ]
There was a sizeable chunk of money, though that wasn't really what he meant, so much. Moreso the refugees - they're my true inheritance. [ there's a messy mix of his feelings, despite the steadiness of his voice. grief, pride. hurt and worry. sorrow.] There's a handful of them in the capitol, and they were living on the streets - I didn't even know.
[ guilt, again, like a wave, fierce and biting, but he shoves it back down. ] But, after a bit of finagling, I think I've taken care of that much, at least. All that is to say, I bought land. Houses. Quite a few of them.
[ ...
his voice softens, a little. ] There's a deed there with your name on it.
[ he slouches, slumps against her, and she rubs at his back a bit. easy, easy. she's good at hugs, and even in the middle of how bad she feels, there's that urge to comfort him, to give him a place to cushion. she doesn't mind doing it - they're still so similar, because it feels good to give him something back, to help. a trauma for a trauma.
and she listens. hums, at the guilt. ]
You didn't know, but the second you did, you went to bat for them. Don't be an idiot.
[ none of that guilt! he's what a noble should be. someone who took care of his people, instead of just letting them suffer because it was easier.
and - then. at the end of that, that soft little sentence. there's a squeeze of something surprised, and then stunned. and then quiet, quiet warmth, clawing at her heart.
teasing, even though it's so, so clear she's touched: ]
[ it doesn't matter, he will absolutely still be an idiot, and he gives her a little bit of a look from the side, but it's sullen and he lets it go afterward. like yes he should have known.
i could make a joke about her being a uhaul lesbian hes a uhaul male lesbian however what he says instead, is: ]
You're one of my people. [ simple. ] So of course there's one for you.
[ NYEH. he bonks her and she grumbles, but. she'll finally let him scoot away from her and she'll rub at her face. her own emotions are a mess of affection and weariness and that kind of emotional exhaustion that comes from feeling a lot of big things in a short span. ]
Right, yeah. Didn't burn it? [ sorry she had a mental breakdown in the middle of you cooking strohl ]
[ no he gets that. sort of has to. anyway while she's doing this he scoops up a spoonful and the second she opens her mouth shoves it in there. it's delicious. curative coney roast.
OKAY. well, she munches her mouthful with a grouchy look, but. slides off the counter, wipes her face with her hand, and then goes to get two plates. as she does: ]
... Man, I forgot how good your food is. [ she's been living off airport food for SO long ]
I sent a few packages over, but I wasn't sure what would keep... suppose it's probably not the same.
[ the difference between microwave leftovers and fresh strohl food is a canyon. he's picking out all the burnt bits like a neurotic nerd - by the end of it, 75% of the too big batch is still okay, so he'll serve it onto the plates when she brings them over. ]
... The others are going to die. [ muttered under his breath. his meows. ] Nanase's going to turn them all to fish.
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there's a little pang of something at the ages bit, longing and then a little warmth, relief, because they are together again, and... ] ... It would have been here, not before. It happened not all that long ago. My father left a letter for me in a fireproof box, in the ruins - I went back, with Will. To Halia.
[ even saying the name, there's that maelstrom, grief and hurt, grief, grief, grief. home, his beloved home. standing in the rubble is such a stark, familiar memory even still, and it was will who helped him get through enough to read the letter, to actually walk through the destroyed streets of his childhood. ]
There was a sizeable chunk of money, though that wasn't really what he meant, so much. Moreso the refugees - they're my true inheritance. [ there's a messy mix of his feelings, despite the steadiness of his voice. grief, pride. hurt and worry. sorrow.] There's a handful of them in the capitol, and they were living on the streets - I didn't even know.
[ guilt, again, like a wave, fierce and biting, but he shoves it back down. ] But, after a bit of finagling, I think I've taken care of that much, at least. All that is to say, I bought land. Houses. Quite a few of them.
[ ...
his voice softens, a little. ] There's a deed there with your name on it.
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and she listens. hums, at the guilt. ]
You didn't know, but the second you did, you went to bat for them. Don't be an idiot.
[ none of that guilt! he's what a noble should be. someone who took care of his people, instead of just letting them suffer because it was easier.
and - then. at the end of that, that soft little sentence. there's a squeeze of something surprised, and then stunned. and then quiet, quiet warmth, clawing at her heart.
teasing, even though it's so, so clear she's touched: ]
Moving me in already? Little fast, isn't it?
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i could make a joke about her being a uhaul lesbian hes a uhaul male lesbian however what he says instead, is: ]
You're one of my people. [ simple. ] So of course there's one for you.
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but also, she doesn't know what to say to this and it really kicks her ass. quietly, she shifts her grip, clinging a little more tightly. and then: ]
You keep saying shit like that and you're really not going to be able to scrub me out.
[ not that she wants him to. he hasn't let her push him away. ]
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Amazing! It's almost like I'm not trying to.
[ idiot. his emotions are so fond, though, even as he says it. he shifts a little, finally, enough to glance back at the pot from before. ]
We ought to eat. Come on.
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Right, yeah. Didn't burn it? [ sorry she had a mental breakdown in the middle of you cooking strohl ]
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Just the more delicate bits. Nothing so much it'll ruin it, but I can remake it if you're willing to wait.
[ the tone implies he knows she's not going to be willing, but he'll ask anyway...... ]
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[ indignant emotions!! don't waste food!! maybe she's a garbage can a little but also there is the emotion of food scarcity. grumbles. ]
Make yourself a new one and I'll eat this one.
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and then waves her off. ]
Go get me two plates.
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OKAY. well, she munches her mouthful with a grouchy look, but. slides off the counter, wipes her face with her hand, and then goes to get two plates. as she does: ]
... Man, I forgot how good your food is. [ she's been living off airport food for SO long ]
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[ the difference between microwave leftovers and fresh strohl food is a canyon. he's picking out all the burnt bits like a neurotic nerd - by the end of it, 75% of the too big batch is still okay, so he'll serve it onto the plates when she brings them over. ]
... The others are going to die. [ muttered under his breath. his meows. ] Nanase's going to turn them all to fish.