Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably
only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his
signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door
behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
Gaius cracks a half smile. The memory created no pain, and that was a rarity. Nero as a Tribunus was not tied to memories of loss -- just of work.
"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room,
trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It
doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius
wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
"Aye. He was a young genius - but so was my ward. My friend Midas, he was -- consumed by his work, so I took his son under my wing," Gaius said, indulging in some wistful nostalgia, pangs of feelings for easier, better days -- or days that he did not know the truth, before tragedy came to his door. "Made sure he had what he needed and was tended to. He and Nero both entered the Magitek Academy as prodigies. Normally it's a six year program for young scientists of eighteen summers, but they went in at twelve. They graded valedictorian and salutatorian, but Nero was never one to be satisfied. He joined the army as the only real route open for him, and eventually came into my service."
The rest doesn't matter; he doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, sitting in these rooms where he still has report cards stowed and letters from Midas in his desk drawers. Instead he looks at the walls; he has paintings -- landscapes, mostly, and one news print announcing the rise of a much younger Gaius van Baelsar to the rank of legatus, faded in its frame. He is terribly imposing in his new mask, Heirsbane held high for the photograph.
"Was he the short one?" Too bad if Gaius doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, because Estinien's pulling the little booklet from his jacket and handing it off to Gaius. Of course the man can know he looked through it, Estinien wouldn't think to lie about such things.
"Found this among Nero's things. Thought you should have it, or at least decide what to do with it."
The way Gaius speaks to Nero in past tense, Estinien isn't sure if the man is even alive.
"Cid is-- quite short for Garlean, yes," Gaius chuckled softly, remembering all of this with bittersweet fondness. It's like dark chocolate with too much cacao -- it's good, but can sometimes be overpoweringly bitter. "Both of his parents were -- mmm. Small of stature. The Minister of Industry for the Garlean empire, and his beloved wife, an advice columnist for one of the smaller papers in the city."
The photo from Nero's things, though, he just lifts his brows at. "I would leave this here. Nero's time in school was a bitter thing for him, and his rivalry with Cid equally so. They both believe me dead, and I doubt gifts of this nature when they learn otherwise won't be well received."
"Still. Seems a shame to throw away mementos of more peaceful times, even
if they've long since passed." Estinien has nothing to remember his family
by; Nidhogg burned their village to the ground. As to his mentor, he
remembers him only by the skills Alberic passed to him. Like most dragoons,
Alberic kept few possessions and did not expect to leave them to any heirs.
He sticks the book back in his jacket again, and does not say what he plans
to do with it. "And if they both still live, that is at least something."
"They do," Gaius said, and for a moment his voice is warm and affectionate, though it evens out. "Nero will likely stab with a screw driver for being in his things, let alone returning something I'm sure he had packed in the back of his closet."
At least Gaius keeps his strange regrets in his desk like a normal person.
"He's welcome to try. If it was not something he had any interest in, he wouldn't have kept it." He knows little about Nero beyond the tiny scraps he's picked up. Man sounds like an intellectual, so Estinien can't imagine they'd have much to talk about regardless.
"Is there anything in here you've been needing," Estinien asks, trying to change the subject now to something with less dark thoughts. It seems a shame, to have the man dwell on how little he's wanted. (Does he know he's wanted here? Estinien isn't sure.)
"Ammunition, clean smallclothes and a new shirt." Gaius said with a soft exhale, almost a chuckle. "Sleep, warmth."
He reaches out, palm turned up and open. An invitation, given in peace, seeking that warmth. "There are other beds, but-- I would prefer you stayed in mine."
Estinien knows he's one of Gaius's only options, is what he knows. A crust of bread to a starving man can seem like a feast. He knows he would not be so desirable were someone like Aymeric here, or any of Gaius's own people.
That does not mean Estinien won't take full advantage of the situation while it lasts. He takes the hand with a smile and steps through into Gaius's arms, laying his face against the man's cheek. "As would I. It's far warmer there than in mine," he says in his rough, quiet voice.
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loligiary2022-08-06 03:27 pm
no subject
Estinien is wearing Nero's least pretentious outfit, the kind he'd probably only wear when everything else was dirty or torn. It wasn't even in his signature red, aside from the dull crimson undershirt.
"Sufficient. Your man did love his scribblings, though." He closes the door behind him and leans against it, watching the man on the bed.
no subject
"Aye," he admits. "Putting him into command staff didn't make him any less an engineer. I'm sure he left notes and sketches everywhere. He'd get up in the middle of the night and put a design done before he forgot whatever it was he dreamed up."
no subject
"You'd known him before the army, then?" His eyes wander about the room, trying to pull in pieces he can use to tell him more about this man. It doesn't help that the presence of a bed stirs thoughts he's sure Gaius wants none of, not in this sad and dusty space.
no subject
The rest doesn't matter; he doesn't want to talk about Cid right now, sitting in these rooms where he still has report cards stowed and letters from Midas in his desk drawers. Instead he looks at the walls; he has paintings -- landscapes, mostly, and one news print announcing the rise of a much younger Gaius van Baelsar to the rank of legatus, faded in its frame. He is terribly imposing in his new mask, Heirsbane held high for the photograph.
no subject
"Found this among Nero's things. Thought you should have it, or at least decide what to do with it."
The way Gaius speaks to Nero in past tense, Estinien isn't sure if the man is even alive.
no subject
The photo from Nero's things, though, he just lifts his brows at. "I would leave this here. Nero's time in school was a bitter thing for him, and his rivalry with Cid equally so. They both believe me dead, and I doubt gifts of this nature when they learn otherwise won't be well received."
no subject
"Still. Seems a shame to throw away mementos of more peaceful times, even if they've long since passed." Estinien has nothing to remember his family by; Nidhogg burned their village to the ground. As to his mentor, he remembers him only by the skills Alberic passed to him. Like most dragoons, Alberic kept few possessions and did not expect to leave them to any heirs.
He sticks the book back in his jacket again, and does not say what he plans to do with it. "And if they both still live, that is at least something."
no subject
At least Gaius keeps his strange regrets in his desk like a normal person.
no subject
"Is there anything in here you've been needing," Estinien asks, trying to change the subject now to something with less dark thoughts. It seems a shame, to have the man dwell on how little he's wanted. (Does he know he's wanted here? Estinien isn't sure.)
no subject
He reaches out, palm turned up and open. An invitation, given in peace, seeking that warmth. "There are other beds, but-- I would prefer you stayed in mine."
Does Estinien know he's wanted?
no subject
That does not mean Estinien won't take full advantage of the situation while it lasts. He takes the hand with a smile and steps through into Gaius's arms, laying his face against the man's cheek. "As would I. It's far warmer there than in mine," he says in his rough, quiet voice.