vatheon | Here and There

Who: Sol (back from his canon update) and open!
Where: ~~in a fountain~~ Plaza
When: Saturday night
Style: I'll match
Status: Open~

Somehow, it was like deja-vu.

A lot like deja-vu, actually.

Coming to half-sprawled in a fountain would do that, he mused absently. Didn't happen too often. Lifting a gloved hand, he ran it through soaked hair to push what of it he could from his face though some remained trapped in place by his worn and somewhat chipped headguard. Few differences this time, mostly in the form of his red coat floating up around by his shoulders and the duffle bag across his (still dry) feet, keeping a few different gadgets he'd come up with over the past couple years. Little things, superficial things.

Except for the one big thing. Sol hauled himself up out of the water once it clicked. "Worry" wasn't really the word for it, but something about it was close enough. It stood out enough when the flood of memories hit, and even as his magic flared--vapourized the water still clinging to his clothes, hair, and skin--his mouth set in a hard line. That sure was something that didn't come with him, from the looks of it.

Vatheon. Back in this hole, if it could be called that. Spend a few years out, end up right back in. The Hell did he do to get brought here again? Not that he could remember anything about it when he was wandering through the broken remains of Europe again, only to end up in the middle of some new-fangled attempt by the "UN" (Sol wasn't sure he thought they really grasped what they were supposed to be) to unite people, not to mention the rest of the shit that was sprung on him between those kids and...

Sol paused in the middle of popping his neck, and that not-worry tapped him on the shoulder again. He rolled it as if it would help; nah, not workin'. Well, there was always the chance...

...He wouldn't be that lucky. Again, didn't come with him, from the looks of it.

Strange feeling.

Sol wasn't sure he liked it, but nothing he could do about it for now. Just gotta pick back up where he left off. Which meant leaving the plaza and looking to see if anything'd changed since he'd last been here. Or figuring how long it'd been.

Stooping, the man hefted up the bag and slung it over his shoulder, thumb hooked under the strap to shift it into the "right" spot.

"Round two, huh?" Least they could've done was drag the brat with him so he could keep an eye on him, fluidity of time be damned.

... ... ...Nah, that'd shift the balance of everything, wouldn't it?

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Ky expected to see people out and about -- it was late but not all that late -- but there were people he didn't expect to see, and his feet froze a little as his eyes registered who it was standing near the fountain.

It couldn't really be, could it? To be back so soon?

Perhaps a curse, something to make him hallucinate... But it wasn't the time for those, and Ky couldn't think of a curse that would be so specific.

So after a moment of starting he crossed his arms and stalked over to where Sol stood. "I hope you have an explanation for yourself."

Jasdero had arrived pretty much the same way, face down in a fountain. Seemed to be a common way to arrive, as everyone always arrived wet. Not that Jasdero was truly observant enough to notice it. He wasn't all too bright, and he dressed very strangely. His mouth was oddly stitched but somehow functional. He carried a stuffed animal chicken.

"Strange man is wet, heeeee~~~"

Sol quirked a brow at the nagging--because that's what it was: nagging. Nagging the way he'd always done, and Sol knew Ky'd probably nag 'til the day he died, whenever that was.

The man shifted, folding his arms across his chest; why would he need an explanation? He cocked his head back, lifted his chin to peer down his nose at Ky.

"How long?" How's that for an answer? Not much of one. Not that Sol'd intended for it to be an answer at all.

But then all the answers were had by Vatheon itself, either the coral or the scientific team.

"Strange" was basically par for the course with the world Sol hailed from; knights, lunatics, monsters, and the possessed. No one necessarily dressed logically. Statements, ease of movement. Taste. Really, it didn't matter. As for being strange...

This guy had no room to talk. But Sol glanced at the plush toy and his lips turned down somewhat.

Didn't think he'd get too fussed over a kid, but... It unsettled him, even if he could figure well enough the system between being his own world and being here.

Tch, can't do anything for it.

But as for being wet? Not anymore. He adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder and levelled the odd passer-by with a flat look that was really only vague regard.

Was it so unreasonable that Ky had been worried, and that he chose to express his worry in this way? Sol had returned, yes, but to what purpose? He hadn't been gone so long as Dizzy had, but did that simply mean he'd vanish again that much sooner.

It was difficult to know how to feel, but it was easy enough to let whatever it was manifest as fussiness, as nagging, as it were.

"Five days at most, I suppose. One at the least. Were you...back there?"

Jasdero was actually older than he seemed, about 18 years old. He acted like he was five, however, which just happened to be his favorite number.

He was rather amused at the flat look to the passer-by and equally more amused that the passer-by simply smiled blissfully back at Sol. Such strange humans these people were. He didn't think much past the strangeness. After all, these strange humans bent over backwards to make sure Jasdero was happy. Such an unusual thing to do for humans, but he did enjoy taking advantage of it.

"Red is new?"

Yep. Sure as Hell was. Dunno how this place works, so no point working himself up over something he can't estimate.

Goddamn. If Ky didn't look like he was still where he was when Sol'd last been here, he'd probably tease him about why Sin liked him better than his stuffy birth father. Nah, that'd probably be too much, wouldn't it?

"Really." Huh... "Yeah. Three'n a half years, give'r take."

Age was relative to appearance for a few people he could easily name. His son looked about elementary school aged but really was maybe a year or so old, for instance, while he himself was leaning on 200 pretty easily and only appeared somewhere in his late 20s.

"Nah." Sol rolled his neck to one side, lifting that shoulder in an effort to pop the series of vertebrae. "You stable 'nough t'gimme a breakdown of recent events so I can figure out how long I've been gone?" Dryly, without much confidence. Or maybe just indifferent to whether Jasdero could answer such a question or not.

Ky's mind was racing with the possibilities of what 'three and a half years' really meant, but he knew he couldn't just barrage Sol with questions. There was no chance that the other man would answer any of them at all, in that case.

And so it was important to pick out the important ones, to note that Sol was here and that answered one of Ky's questions, that he, at least, would be okay. (And Ky presumed he would be, with all the arrogance of someone who expects it to be one of the first things mentioned.)

"Is Dizzy...still alright?"

"Last I saw'er." Which was something like six months ago, if he remembered right. He was pretty sure most women would love to be in the shape Dizzy'd been in after pregnancy. Not that she'd really gone through it the way humans do. Sol hooked his thumb into the pocket of his jeans, watching Ky blandly. Like he hadn't expected that question.

"Ah," Ky said it softly, with a measure of relief. He didn't think that Sol would misdirect, so even as vague as the answer is, it still means something. "And...you? Have you been well?" Ky studied him, as if he thought he would be able to tell. But Sol looked close enough to always, despite the new (ridiculous) outfit.

Here and There

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