lifeaftr | take a break [ota!]

Entry tags:

take a break [ota!]

Who: Laurent and You!
What: Laurent takes a hiatus and moves into the Assholes Who Don’t Want to be Bothered Compound.
When:Late June- July
Where: Mainly D8 / Denny
Warnings: Injury mentions, nothing else so far.

[a] i got that summertime, summertime sadness

[The end of June sees Laurent disappearing entirely from his house on Islet 1.

Instead he can be found in the Monkey Compound on D8. The astute might realise that he is not exactly moving house- he only has with him the bare essentials, and the nest he moves into stays pristinely unaltered- but for now, he’s not going anywhere.

What’s he doing? Chilling, mostly. His arm is usually splinted up, though as July starts the bindings appear less and less. that’s also a compelling reason for him to sit back and relax- simply perching on some roots and tilting his head back, soaking in the midmorning sun like a cat. he explores a bit, wanders around the compound a bit, admires Connor’s spike traps some. Sometimes his Tigerlilly hangs out with him. Every evening he probably Stone-calls his fiance to tell him he's doing well, or something.

Laurent of Vere is on vacation, folks.]

[b] what’s new pussycat

[Because Friendship Ended with Ignis Scientia, Laurent can also be found liberally at Denny. He takes most of his meals there, especially for the first week after its opening. On Friday nights the blonde offers a free* flow (*terms and conditions apply) of ice to the bartender on duty, pretty much magicking handfuls of shaved ice out of thin air and into whatever receptacle is given.]

[wildcard]

[Getting ambushed by Upsy while in the area? Want a more specific prompt? Feel free to PM/discord tag me to discuss other plots!]

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[The nominal bartender in question today happens to be Tim, who's been spending more and more of his time maintaining Denny when he can. Work is slow today, and Tim himself doesn't really drink, but it's not hard to catch the waves of attitude radiating from one of his local ice-suppliers like something rancid.]

So. You smoke?

[The problem with resting a broken arm is that there’s not a whole lot to do that doesn’t involve both hands and a whole lot of force. He’s got the self-control to not throw himself into manual labor halfway, but it’s giving him long periods of restless boredom. Laurent is rattling ice cubes at the bottom of a coconut shell when he’s spoken to- but the words don’t make sense to him, and when he looks up it’s with a blank expression.]

… do you mean with the… ‘weeds’?

[There’s no context in Vere where ‘smoke’ goes in a sentence like that… so there’s only that weird plant they made a festival for in April?]

[Oh, god.]

Wh - no, no, I mean... [He digs his tin of cigarettes out of his pocket and slides it open to display the slender paper wraps inside.] These. I guess it's the same principle, but it's worse for you and it doesn't actually get you high.

[Objectively worse, basically. What a sell.]

I’m guessing it’s cheaper than the weed?

[He’s good at figuring out a lot of things. But figuring out artifacts far beyond his own time…. is not quite in his skillset. Laurent peers intently at the cigarette tin but, let’s be real, he has little idea how exactly you use these papery rolls. Do you just eat these? Put them over a brazier? ]

I suppose I don’t smoke. Should I?

[He’s serious. This looks like a thing he’ll eventually decline, but he knows so little about these intoxication sticks and he….. wants an expert’s opinion.]

Not really.

[Seriously, there's very little about cigarettes that's remotely beneficial, even in the short term. He knows this. He simply doesn't care to correct it.]

It's a stress relief thing, kind of, but it's...limited, I guess. [He was wondering if you were stressed, Laurent, because you seemed, as it were, stressed.]

Oh. Substance use doesn’t work well for me.

[He sounds…… mildly disappointed about it? Like he’s tried and it’s only backfired on him in dramatic ways, like awful hangovers and making him confess to his crush while delirious.

It’s a shame. Because Laurent is stressed. He’s stressed a lot. This bird keeps itself in the air by stress and spite and nothing else.]

Could I take a closer look at those?

Some of us don't have much choice.

[He says it low, mostly in regards to the bottle of pills in the pocket of his jeans, which have long since stopped being their rusted blue denim and now acquired a muddy burgundy patina, but hands the tin over regardless.]

Tin refills every few months, 'long as I petition our local god.

[Knowing nothing about the pills, he just assumes maybe Tim needs cigarettes to live. Or something. The man did just say he gets it refilled on the regular. Either way, it’s his life; Laurent knows peanuts about it and can respect the idea of not having a real choice. There are things he feels strongly about, but questionable life decisions is not one of them.

The blonde nods in acknowledgement and leaves it at that, his attention instead on carefully plucking out a single cigarette. He’s learning a bunch about what this Intoxication Stick is- paper, looks like a modern product from the design and the tin- but as he holds it up towards the light he has to ask anyway,] How /do/ you smoke this?

[At least this mental stimulation seems to be helping him destress??]

You light one end and kind of... [How do you explain smoking to someone who's maybe never seen it before? Laurent is an...old-timey guy, right?]

It's like a pipe. But disposable, I guess. [Because the American capitalist machine marches ever onward. Tim's not bitter enough to comment on it, but he is still bitter in that tired, apathetic, general sense. Just, at the world. At large.]

[It seems so intuitive that the whole thing would be incredibly flammable, being papery-looking. But he guesses not. Laurent slides the cigarette back into the tin, frowning slightly like a man puzzling over a math problem. His next statement is said in a softer voice. It’s just a musing, really.]

If only there was a library.

[So he could just look up Smoke: For Dummies.]

That'd be pretty helpful, I guess. Some sort of info repository.

[But it's not like they have a lot of shit actually written down, now, do they?]

Guess we could renovate one of these buildings to hold stuff like that, expand it a little. Dunno what we'd put in it.

[He lets out such a deep sigh, like the sigh of a dude who wishes with all his heart his best friend would stop getting into shit, and yet can think of no workable solution. It seems like this is a topic he’s thought about.]

We couldn’t have books. Producing paper aside, rain or mould would get them in a month with our infrastructure. [can you hear the book-lover’s disappointment.] Wood or stone tablets, maybe. Maybe… information on how to live off the land, assuming people are willing to share.

…….. how would- I suppose that translation magic would work on books, but…. how many of us can’t read?

[That's a fair point, and one that Tim has admittedly not had to consider very readily. Some people here are illiterate, or blind, or just plain communicate differently, and that's never been much of an issue for him.]

[It's an adjustment.]

I'm not the magic guy, so I couldn't really tell you. Rocks...maybe. We're already using that bulletin board for most of our stuff. Kinda time consuming, is all, and storage might be a problem.

[[note: laurent’s internalised ableism is kind of a thing here i guess?]]

[Laurent’s not used to being that inclusionary either- if Yellowfang and the sheer absurdity of her existence didn’t happen, it probably wouldn’t have occurred to him til much later. Eventually that will come up and bite him. Eventually it’s got to sink in that Ignis has an assistive reading device, he’s not just absorbing words telepathically through sheer Ignisness.]

Mm. It could be worth looking into, a repository. A library proper seems too much of a stretch, but...

[Disheartened drink-swishing.] An information repository would help, now that things like the Jormun are a recurring matter.

Well, we've gotta restaurant. Library's probably doable.

[It's a "restaurant" in extremely vague terms. Mostly it's just a place for people to...congregate. Hang around in, when they don't feel like killing time on the islets instead.]

I haven't started shaping up the houses and stuff around here, but there's plenty of old buildings that could use some renovating.

You can build?

[He should have figured, given...Denny, but he can’t exactly overthink everything on this island. The blonde sounds pleasantly surprised, looking up from his drink.]

I can sort of build.

[If he's being honest here. Which, admittedly, he seldom is. Tim rolls one shoulder in a shrug, glancing up at the walls and ceiling - obviously patched, and just as obviously not done as well as he'd like.]

This place was already standing when we found it. All I had to do was fix it up some.

That’s still an astoundingly useful skill.

[Sure, the walls are patched, but this is the most building-like building Laurent has been in for months. ]

You are willing to keep repairing structures, right? Builders like you are in such short supply, it seems.

[pls let there be more]

As long as I don't dislocate my arm again, I might as well. It's something to do.

[He keeps getting himself fucked up, is the problem. Mostly in small ways, but that can really slow you down when you're doing heavy lifting.]

I had help with this one, but it's also the biggest of the bunch.

[Stone call? Come on now - Damen went and got himself captured because Laurent might need him. He's at the compound like every other day, because Laurent might want his presence and it's only every other day because Laurent definitely just looked at him and was like "can you chill a little" so he decided that every other day was acceptable. Right? Right? Today he's brought a book, at least, because he wanted an excuse to actually visit.]

Laurent?

[Laurent is investigating Amateratsu’s garden, and learning not much because no one is here to tell him the difference between parsley and weed. At the sight of Damen his face softens into delight- before he actually registers that his fiancé is here again and his expression becomes one of fond disappointment.

Seriously, Damen. Laurent’s been teetering between genuinely enjoying Damen’s company, and having to put his foot down- they’ve been living together for months? Look at him, Damen. Listen. How are you going to rule a kingdom if you have separation anxiety, Damen.]

I hope you’re not here because our house is on fire.

Edited 2018-07-14 07:52 (UTC)

[It would be different!! If they were separated because of extenuating circumstances!! This is just Laurent moving and leaving him and he would love to give Laurent space or whatever? But also he misses him and he has no impulse control and Laurent is right there.

It's worth nothing that he rarely seeks Laurent this much when Laurent is a constant presence in his life, however. He's fine just knowing Laurent lives in the same space, most of the time, but when he feels like he's alone, he gets weird and clingy. Right now he's definitely being weird and clingy.]

Can I not come see you because I enjoy your presence? [Please don't tell him to go away. :( He misses!! Sleeping in the same place!!] Surely you don't believe the Veretian custom of not seeing each other before our wedding extends this far out.

We saw each other two days ago.

[Alright, alright. From his tone’s it’s obvious Laurent’s just given in to the reality that today is date day (again). He’s not impervious to his fiancé being sad and antsy, and obligingly goes up to Damen for a light cheek kiss. Hello, lover.]

Well, you have me now. How are you, other than in agony over my absence? Anything... happen at the neighbours' place?

They are as usual - although I think we all wish you would stop this. [Come home, he doesn't say.] People have forgiven worse. You have forgiven worse.

[It's edging around the topic they rarely speak of, partly because it's better if they don't and partly because what Ziziphus had shown them was a thing that was maybe better left entirely alone. It was real, in a sense, and yet -]

You don't have to be difficult, Laurent.

… I know. I am sorry.

[He lowers his head- he knows it’s because he’s Like This. His head’s cleared enough to realise that if he went back today and dropped a few platitudes all Guion-like, they would lap it all up. But he’s goddamn stubborn, and his conflict resolution skills are a bloody mess, and he can’t even put his household’s needs above this neighbourhood drama. At least with Damen, he’s comfortable enough to just say it.

Laurent is sorry. But while Damen’s right about the stabbing, it’s not really about that- it’s merely a symptom to some of his deeper problems, or an convenient excuse. He doesn’t give a single fuck about putting five inches of metal into Gladio’s gut. It’s the twist of his insides when he sees the three retainers together, when any of them brings up how much they can count on the others, and Ignis, oh Ignis. The utter galling ignorance of that man to claim the things he does. Stabbing Gladio is merely a spark- the firewood has been laid out for quite some time.]

I’ll come back soon, I promise. I just... would like more time alone.

[Damen, unfortunately, lacks the particular brand of intelligence needed to get this. It’s okay. Might as well let him think this is all about overreacting to stabbing Gladio. Heaven knows Laurent does that too.]

And- it’s rather nice here. I know, the horses must miss me, but look. [So much green!!!! So cool and shady!!! Hear the birdsong, see the multitude of booby-traps half the residents have got going on!]

Edited 2018-07-31 10:48 (UTC)

I -

[The words catch in his throat: I buried you. Is it so wrong that I would want you in my sight always?

It would be selfish to say that, of course. Even he knows that it would be asking too much of anyone, but particularly Laurent. That's fine. He can manage, if Laurent wants to be alone. There has yet to be a thing he won't give up for Laurent, up to and including Laurent himself (although preferably only temporarily). Instead, he backtracks:]

- find it very Veretian here. The one that lives over there - the one the Jormun hold in high regard? I think he's what Nicaise would have grown up to be like.

[He's talked to Connor before, of course. Because sometimes you belatedly realize your characters? Probably fucking know each other because they both social linked the goddamn Jormun. I hecked up. I made this bed for myself and I'm going to die here, writing horrible misinterpretations of Connor Murphy's character.

Anyway. Damen likes to think that with a few more years and some mellowing out, Nicaise would have been like Connor: sharp-witted and still harsh around the edges, but knowing how to use those edges in politics. Knowing where the words can be sharp and where to hold his tongue.]

Or maybe, if circumstances were different, something like you.

[He catches the stumble, but says nothing about it. Lets Damen finish. Then, turning his head around and back again, he says:]

Do you think trees are Veretian? [They’re in the middle of the forest what’s Veretian here??? The spike pits????? Those are Akleion, they’re out in the open like that.] I was going to give you an open invitation here, since you get lonely so often, but if you think trees are Veretian I will just have to come home to you sooner.

You have a very fond opinion of Nicaise. Connor hasn’t stabbed anyone with any kind of implement, as far as I’m aware.

[Laurent’s entire impression of Connor is “keeps “””finding”” spare baskets and handing them out to the neighbours”. Which- he couldn’t say he didn’t think Nicaise had that kind of good in him, to not at least want something for himself for it, but- he’d never know, is the gist of it. At thirteen when he breathed last, Nicaise is a book whose pages are lost to time. Maybe he insults people less, or maybe he somersaults off the ‘fuck you’ cliff and becomes a man like Ardyn. When Laurent thinks of Nicaise- as he does now- he’s always the precocious, ephemeral, boy. He thinks of Chara.

Also, do you think Laurent can recognise a meme for the verbal genius it is? No, he can’t. He doesn’t know Connor is working literary magic every day.]

Do you want an heir like him? Or less precocious? More precocious?

It's not the trees that make it Veretian, it's the way everyone is individual. You live not a stone's throw from him and you don't know he favors an axe?

[That's secondhand information from their mutual Jormun friends. He's never actually seen this axe in action, although he suspects that's because it's not actually Connor's weapon of choice. It's a weapon of circumstance: Connor isn't built for an axe, he would actually be better off with daggers. With being fast, rather than relying on brute force.]

It would be difficult to stab someone with a weapon meant for cleaving things in two.

[He doesn't answer Laurent's question about an heir.

He can't answer Laurent's question about an heir because sometimes he thinks of Jokaste's child, which wasn't his but which is still family. Which will grow up without knowing that, without having a place in the world. Which is the closest to something he very nearly had, but which he also gave up for Laurent in a way. Jokaste is like a dream half-remembered at this point. He knows she wasn't as soft or as sweet as he remembers and he knows she betrayed him, but he can't stop himself from thinking of her as being in the same category as his family.

It is worth not having Jokaste to have Laurent without question, but that doesn't stop him from wondering what they could have built.]

Touché.

[He’s Veretian. What can he say. At the end of the day a part of him is still uncomfortable with their lack of a locking door and general state of household ruin. But Damen is deep in some unpleasant thought again, which Laurent picks up on immediately because his fiance is obvious. So obvious.

He waits a moment, then slides his good hand up Damen’s forearm.]

Do you want me to show you around today or are you going to just smile at me for a few hours again?

I'm not so bad as that. [He sounds vaguely offended, but also like. He literally would just sit and smile at Laurent is allowed to.] Give me the grand tour of your new home, though. Tell me all the gossip.

[The houses here are very different to anything Ram is used to. Back at Avagi, the bays and surroundings had been metal and inorganic which, while hardly the inside of a computer, was at least semi-similar.

But here, surrounded by wood and living things, it's new, strange and very interesting. It's certainly aesthetically more enjoyable and now Ram sits outside his claimed house, swinging his legs and watching the forest.

Catching sight of one of his D8 neighbours, he waves with a friendly smile.]

[He thought the people here were also loners?? As in, someone here has literal spike traps. But oh well, just because he’s here doesn’t mean he’s lost his social graces. The blonde nods back, then realises Ram might not be able to see that from a distance.

Here’s a wave too, awkwardly.]

Edited 2018-07-16 13:45 (UTC)

[He catches faint movement from his neighbour, but the wave is much clearer. Moving around the house so he's on the side directly facing the other person, he sits down letting his legs dangle over the edge of the platform, arms resting on the natural railing provided by a branch and calls over with a grin.]

Recharging in the sun?

[Things would have been extremely awkward if Laurent hadn’t been to the modern-era town of his last game. Luckily he has, and so he’s heard of the word ‘recharge’- and also its use in a figurative context.

There’s a marked pause before his response, as he recalls what the word means. ]

…. yes?

[His social skills are still warming up, pardon.]

Edited 2018-07-18 14:47 (UTC)

[Ram waits, looking down at the forestry beneath his feet, then up again once his neighbour speaks. He smiles encouragingly.]

Kudos for having the houses up here, I think. Better light. And views.

The islets have brighter lighting, technically speaking, but I do like the view here.

[He shrugs, tilting his face towards the sky.]

Have you lived here long?

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take a break [ota!]

it's not unusual

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internalized ableism is the Eternal Tim Mood :')

OOF sorry for the delay

all good!

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captive prince spoilers

completely different captive prince spoilers

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Hello neighbour

hello!!

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