Brotherly bonding. Or something like that.

[ziemia]

[Do you want to build a pillow fort?]

[ The war in the Grasslands may have ended, but there was never a shortage of issues to address. In addition to the usual, he had to keep to his word and attempt to help Le Buque, and that was becoming an uphill battle. It didn't leave him much free time, but maybe he shouldn't complain about that.

It seemed he would have the evening to himself, though, provided no-one came to him. With that thought in mind, he entered what was his sitting room, expecting to make himself comfortable and let himself unwind, but that plan didn't last long after opening the door.

Books were on the floor, drawers were open, seat cushions were mixed and matched everywhere. It had been ransacked without anyone even noticing a break-in.

...For good reason, he soon realized, as his eyes finally fell on the what looked like a young boy ducking under some of the overturned pillows. At worse, he was just a diversion or a poor choice of spy, at best...Sasarai wasn't really sure. But he would take this one step at a time. Coming forward, he was soon crouching a short distance away. ]

I hope you know I can still see you there.

Comments

[buried_sky]

[He was lost. The room was strange--so much brighter than his cell, so much warmer and softer, it was actually kind of overwhelming. He couldn't help exploring the place, pulling open drawers to see what was inside, piling up the cushions for the softest seat he'd ever sat on...stacking books beneath the window to see if he could catch a glimpse of the world outside. (Sadly a tall enough pile turned out to be too tall for him to climb.)

You couldn't really blame him for hiding when that door opened, for not wanting to leave such a nice room, taking comfort in the safety of the comfy cushions and hoping so very hard the stranger didn't notice he'd accidentally broken a teaset when trying to make it fly with his magic. And so he froze when that voice called him out, unwilling to leave his not-so-safe-after-all cushiony hideout.

At least, not just yet.]

[ziemia]

[ He didn't know what he expected the boy to do, but nothing wasn't one of them. On the bright side, Sasarai hadn't noticed the broken tea set of all things, but he also didn't have plans for leaving, either. Even if, in the case this was a shoddy thief, he should finish this quickly.

Sighing, Sasarai sat himself down on the floor. ]

Come on, now. You can't hide under there forever. I'm much more stubborn than you.

[buried_sky]

[The stranger wasn't leaving. That was bad. But the stranger was also strangely familiar, with a coaxing, gentle voice that promised nothing (and that was good, because he'd rather have nothing than lose something). And it was true, too, that he couldn't hide forever--it was a flimsy hiding place, one he could probably blow away with a gust of wind if he tried.

So, after a moment's hesitation...he poked his head out. Not coming out all the way, oh no, not quite yet. But he was visible now, at least. And staring quietly (warily) at the owner of the room.]

[ziemia]

[ Getting him to come out that much, at least, was almost victory enough for Sasarai, who would have smiled just for that if not for the next feeling that gripped him. The boy was a sorry sight, all dirty with messy hair, but something about him was a little unnerving. More so than the strangeness of the situation. It felt almost like déjà vu, or like he was missing something important.

Not one to dwell on his feelings, however, he quickly recovered and smiled slightly again. In the end, he was still dealing with a little kid. ]

There you are.

[ And he expected him to still come out the rest of the way. He did give him more than a few feet of space just in case. ]

[buried_sky]

[Those few feet of space were definitely a deciding factor in his decision to finally pull himself out the rest of the way. The little ragged boy in his big ragged shirt looked up at the richly dressed not-quite-possibly-stranger, taking in all the details of his clothing and his face and everything. Because when would he ever get another chance? Plus all those clothing details were fascinating, compared to his own...outfit.]

......Are you going to send me back?

[ziemia]

[ And there they were, sitting on the floor together in a wrecked room, staring at each other. That feeling of uncertainty didn't go away with seeing the rest of him, but he didn't look like he could be dangerous.

Hearing his question, Sasarai could only shake his head and softly reply: ]

That depends on where "back" is. Where are you from?

[ Did he have a family or was he kidnapped? An orphan? It was hard to believe anyone would let their child look like this, but it was even harder to imagine one here. ]

[buried_sky]

[His gaze turned downward at that, staring fixedly at the floor as he steeled himself to answer.]

...A cell.

[Is it so hard to imagine? All he'd ever known was the cold, dank walls of a dirty cell, the rare glimpse of sumptuously dressed strangers outside the door...the occasional phantom visions of sunlight in his dreams. He resisted the urge to touch the stranger's clothes, just for the sake of feeling them.

He hugged a cushion instead.]

[ziemia]

A cell?

[ The source of familiarity finally hit him then. He looked like Luc when they were young--at least, from the short time they met each other.

The smile faded from his face with a frown, and he reached out to touch the boy's shoulder. He looked like he needed it. It was impossible for him to be Luc, but Sasarai was also sure he'd be aware of any other clones being created. Not that there weren't a lot of things being kept from him before...

In any case: ]

...I'll do my best to ensure you won't return there.

[buried_sky]

[He flinched at that touch - just a little. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched him, if ever. Had there ever been a time? He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

That frown wasn't exactly hidden, either, and as he looked up into the man's eyes his own face didn't show hope so much as...curiosity maybe? Uncertainty.]

...Really?