vatheon | Just a little aimless

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Just a little aimless

Who: Kratos and anyone that comes across him!
Where: The plaza
When: RIGHT NOW (Morning, July 14th)
Style: I'll follow you!
Status: Open~

[It had been quite some time now since the curse that turned him into a human, but Kratos can't help but remember walking down these streets as one. Everything had been painfully bright and blurry, he'd hardly been able to hear a thing, and yet... he'd felt alive. Not numb like he does now. He reaches up to toy with his locket before remembering that Amaterasu has it. Shaking his head, he wanders the plaza aimlessly. Maybe he'll visit Italy's bakery. He should have done that while he was able to appreciate the taste.]

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He'd gone out to get breakfast, feeling too lazy to make something himself. The cinnamon buns had smelled especially good when he'd passed by a shop, good enough to get a whole bag. He'd take some home to share with Angelo, with extras to munch on during the day. Right now, though, he's content to walk, eating one of the buns as he heads for his favorite coffee shop. He isn't expecting to run into anyone.

He isn't expecting to see Kratos. But he does and his footsteps falter.

Kratos...

Indecision grips him. He knows what he'd decided back when he talked to Dhaos, but now that the moment is here... it's hard. How does he even start?

The hesitation lasts for another moment before he just... starts forward, heading for Kratos. He doesn't know what he's going to do, but if he always waited until he had a plan, he'd never get anything done. Maybe something will come to him once they actually talk.

He really, really hopes he's right.]

[Lost in thought, Kratos doesn't notice Lloyd until it's far too late to make an escape unnoticed. As such, he just stays still, feeling just as tense as Lloyd must be when the boy starts to approach. He remains quiet for a moment, then turns to Lloyd with an impassive face.]

Hello, Lloyd.

[His voice, at least, holds a little warmth.]

Um... Hey...

[Lloyd stops when he's a few feet away. Unfortunately, he still hasn't thought of anything to say. He stands there awkwardly before he realizes he needs to say something before Kratos walks away. Something, anything.]

How... how're your arms?

[...even if it's something stupid and inane.]

Edited 2012-07-15 15:29 (UTC)

[Lloyd's anxiousness is not lost on Kratos. He isn't afraid of him, is he? Surely he doesn't think that Kratos will retaliate for what happened the last time they met.]

They are fine. When I regained my artes, I healed myself. There was no lasting damage.

[As if to prove it, Kratos closes the somewhat awkward distance between them and holds out his arm.]

[Retaliation? No, Lloyd's worrying about a lot of things, but that isn't one of them. Worries about being hurt and betrayed, a twisting fear in his gut that this will all blow up in his face, anxiety when he thinks about how close he came to killing this man...

He reaches out hesitantly, resting his fingers on Kratos's arm. An arm that's strong and whole. Slowly, that one anxiety uncurls a little bit. Kratos is okay.

Too bad the rest of his fears are still sitting there like a lump of lead in the pit of his stomach.

He drops his hand.]

So, you're back to being an angel now? Like Colette? You don't need to eat or sleep or... You don't feel things?

It is not quite so severe as Colette's condition. I have a key crest, after all. I do not need to eat or sleep, but my sense of touch is not completely dulled.

[His sense of pain is practically nonexistent, though. Temperature isn't something he really feels much of either, but he can feel the weight of Lloyd's hand on him until he moves it. The boy still seems anxious. What else should he say? It wasn't this hard to talk to him before he knew, and it was even enjoyable to talk with him before Kratos had returned to Yggdrasill. That part is entirely his fault, though.]

[Wait. Why does that answer suddenly seem off? Lloyd frowns, temporarily distracted from his his other thoughts. It doesn't take him long to pin down what's bothering him.]

But you ate while we were on the Journey of Regeneration. You slept, too, but I guess you could fake that. But you can't fake eating. I saw you. You even ate Professor Raine's cooking, and I know you could taste it.

[He'd cast First Aid on himself. What more proof did Lloyd need than that?

Or maybe Raine's cooking is just that bad, that even angels can taste it.]

I can taste, but for the most part food is bland. I don't need to eat for nutritional purposes. Raine's cooking is...

[Excuse Kratos as he remembers it.]

...intense. Far more than I am used to.

[This is a polite way of saying it was terrible and made him want to vomit.]

["Intense." That was how Kratos described it. Lloyd stares at him for a moment, then lets out a breath.]

You use the weirdest words sometimes.

["Intense" is not how he'd describe it. It doesn't even begin to cover how horrible the taste of it is.

Of course, now that he's said that, what does he say next? He still hasn't figured out what he's going to do. He hesitates awkwardly for another long moment, then...

Food. Kratos can taste, even if it isn't always very much. He'd decied he was going to give the man a chance. The thoughts are jumbled and feel disconnected, but somehow they connect anyway, and, impulsively, he sticks his hand in his bag, pulling out a cinnamon bun.]

...here. You can, uh... There's cinnamon. It tastes pretty strong.

[He awkwardly holds it out.]

[He almost lets out a small chuckle at Lloyd's assessment of his word choice. He's only trying to be polite! When the boy offers him one of his cinnamon buns, his initial reaction is to stare at it for a minute. Kratos is not particularly fond of sweets, and the words almost tumble out of his mouth before he stops himself. As emotionally inept as he can be, he recognizes that Lloyd isn't just offering him the bun. Rejecting him would only cause more pain. He reaches out to take it.]

Thank you, Lloyd.

[Not knowing what else to say, he just offers his son a small smile.]

[It isn't just a bun. It's the closest thing he can think of to give as a peace offering of sorts, though he doesn't really realize that until after he's held it out. There's a tension in his shoulders he's not really conscious of as he waits for Kratos to take it, a tension that leaks out just a little bit when the bun passes from his hand.

Unfortunately, none of the awkwardness goes along with it. Was that... Was that a smile? On Kratos's face?

Dammit, what does he do?

He shuffles his feet, then offers an uncomfortable shrug and something that might have been an attempted smile that doesn't quite make it all the way.]

You're welcome. So, um... I guess... I'll get going, then.

[No one ever accused Kratos of being overly expressive, and the smile fades into a neutral expression again quickly enough. He nods as he carefully tucks the bun away. It's highly unlikely that he'll actually eat it.

He'll probably keep it.]

Very well. Take care.

[It takes a little effort to not turn and be the first one to walk away after saying his goodbyes, but Kratos manages it. He doesn't want Lloyd to think that he's been waiting for an out in the conversation, so he stays put in the awkward but not wholly uncomfortable silence.]

[Lloyd waits for a moment, though he isn't sure why. Maybe to see if Kratos is going to say anything else, or maybe because he isn't sure if he wants to walk away himself. The awkwardness wins out in the end. He turns, walking away.

He can't decide how well that whole exchange just went.]

[It had been nearly a month since his talk with Lloyd, and ever since then Dhaos had been bottling his every emotion pertaining to what he had learned Mithos had done... and how Kratos, the man who had been like a second father to him, had not only hidden important information from him, but had allowed the truth of Mithos' actions to become buried with the ages. He had reigned himself in then for Lloyd's sake, and had since kept everything to himself in a terribly misguided effort not to worry anyone, leaving the feelings to fester like a terrible burn left untreated.

It is thus that the first moment he spots Kratos in the plaza, something inside his mind just...snaps. With no more warning than an incoherent scream of all the rage and sorrow and hurt he feels, Dhaos launches himself at Kratos.]

[It's pure instinct that causes Kratos to draw his sword as he turns, ready to defend himself immediately upon hearing that scream. His eyes widen slightly. Dhaos? The man that calls him "uncle"? Just what the hell is going on, here?]

[Heedless of the sword, Dhaos rams straight into Kratos. The impact sends both to the ground, though Dhaos' momentum causes him to tumble a few feet farther. He quickly rights himself and once again lunges for his mentor, practically snarling even as tears begin to make their way down his face.]

[He calls on his wings to break his fall somewhat, at least sparing himself of having the wind knocked out of him. Kratos has managed to get to his feet by the time Dhaos is heading for him again, and this time he's braced for impact.]

Calm yourself! What's happening here?

[Oh hey look who's back from vanishing completely from Vatheon. Gilbert's feeling a little bit out of the loop, but he doesn't let that stop him from going off re familiarising himself with Vatheon.

And who does he spot walking down the street? Why it's stone man Kratos!]

Heeeey~ Kratos!

Hello, Prussia. It has been quite some time.

[Mostly because Kratos tends to keep to himself - mostly because he doesn't want to trouble Lloyd. It had been weeks since he told him about Anna, so perhaps he's recovered by now. He offers the country a half smile. Whether they're close or not, it's good to see a friendly face.]

Quite some time indeed. I haven't seen you in forever! How are ya? What'cha up to?

Nothing in particular. I was considering going to your friend's bakery, but if you are here...

[Well, they're quite overdue for a spar, aren't they? Kratos gently sets his flamberge to the side.]

Then I suppose we could do something a little more productive.

Something more productive than eating Italy's food?

[Gilbert smirked]

I hope it involves blades, somehow.

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Just a little aimless

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