[This doesn't surprise him, neither the fact that he avoided them or the fact that he had ones to go to. Kaspar carries and comports himself well, it's hardly difficult to believe he's of noble enough birth to have such events to attend. Still.]
With the group we have here, I can hardly imagine it matching such high society events.
Though I'm curious to know your reasons for shirking them, yourself.
[For van Zieks, it does, and he lets out a short clipped laugh before taking a sip from his cup, so easily, because how much of a relief it is that he can discuss this issue freely with Kaspar?]
Ah, that issue. I think London society has given up on me at this point, thankfully, but years ago, constantly, "you still aren't spoken for, Barok?" "you know, Klint was married already for two years when he was your age!" "My Jessica would be a perfect fit for you, Lord van Zieks!" [Scoffs.] As if they had any idea.
[ Kaspar blinks, the short laugh crinkling the edges of his eyes. He listens, rapt attention and familiar subject matter making this feel... nice. He laughs, more freely at the culminating scoff.
In turn, he imitates his mother's high pitched yet stern and nasal tone. ]
"Think of the nation, Kaspar."
[ A shake of his head. ]
... Now that my brothers are married, I am spared for the moment.
[It really is nice, to be able to commiserate like this. He relaxes in his seat, a faint and uncommon smile on his face.]
Small blessings, I suppose. When that moment runs out, you may consider becoming a grim spectre of death, it seems to put people off on a more permanent basis. [It's a joke, really, but also van Zieks giving Kaspar the option to ask more about this sort of demeanor van Zieks has apparently carried on his shoulders, should he want to.]
[ Kaspar takes the bait, already reaching the limit of his personal investment into commiseration. He had little plan of returning home anyway if he might help it. Perhaps the goddess will keep him around for his pancakes if marriage doesn't find him. ]
It was hardly something I'd planned out beforehand, but yes. Just as well, since around the time it started I wasn't keen on spending any time with anyone.
[Nonsense there's no way no ones trying to marry Kaspar.]
[ Were Kaspar a normal person he might be surprised at that length of time alone, or of the mention of murder. But here, too, is understanding in the way he looks over at van Zieks then. Tea cup meets plate, with gentle clinking as it returns to the table.
At ease with grief but unable to voice shallow comforts, his voice is warm without pity. ]
[He closes his eyes a moment, trying to focus his attention on his memory of Klint and not the black mark that recent revelations had left on it.]
... He was ten years older than me, so he was already making a name for himself when I was still young. He made everything he did seem effortless. But even when he became a star prosecutor, he still made time for me and the rest of the family. There was an easy charisma about him, everyone liked him and wanted to be close to him. Anyone who called him a friend trusted him implicitly. [Something about all this seems to pain van Zieks to say, even as a faint smile passes across his face, a clear reverence for his older brother.]
Though, he had a stubborn streak. When he was in a rare bad mood, he would sulk terribly, and only communicate with the person he was cross at by speaking to his dog, Balmung, instead of them.
[ Kaspar listens again, relaxed comfortably on his side of the table imagining such a man that looks similar to van Zieks. The pain, he catches, though it is easy to attribute it more to the murder itself than the complications of which he is ignorant. Murder, there is no point in lingering on it.
He even laughs softly after the mention of a stubborn streak. And once the other is finished, his gaze drifts to the other man's wasitcoat. ]
... you have lovely memories. I'm glad.
[ His expression is calm, words warm even when they trail off like he is finding the words for another question in the silence that follows. ]
[ Kaspar can tell there is more still, in the tension and restraint, but he wouldn't begin to know how to ask without conflict. The urge is there, to press him out of curiosity and a want to understand him. Van Zieks presenting a question derails any contemplation of his own.
He does not tense at the thought of his brothers, older and younger. They all looked so much like their mother. Subtle listlessness instead of tension creates distance instead of comfort with his relaxed yet harder to read silence.
There were good memories too, of course, just enough that he could never truly dismiss ot hate them. No matter their criticisms or effective disownment. When was the last letter he'd sent? It'd been even longer since he'd gotten one in return from any of then. He makes no habit of dwelling on them, for he doubts they care much about his absence.
A pause, weakened by the talk of brothers with someone he trusts more than anyone back home. He states it simply, a little too calm. ]
... they do not see the world as I do, I'm afraid.
[And this is exactly why he knows he was lucky to have Klint. Even if, in the end, Klint went down a path that Barok couldn't follow, their goals had been the same. To the end, Klint had supported him, understood him, loved him. Wanted the best for him. Even if what he thought was best wasn't quite right.
He sighs.]
I'm sorry to hear that.
[He pauses a moment, hesitant to pry, but ultimately too curious not to.]
How, exactly, would you say you see the world, Kaspar?
[ Kaspar's distance is short lived. The present has always taken precedence and what works even better is a question that he has an answer for. It is easy to leave the worst memories untouched, lest he remember the physical pain of fighting too. It is the whiplash maybe, or the company, or the lack of tea in his cup. He's not concerned with the impulse to speak freely.
As subtle as a flower leaning for the sun, his warmth returns-- ]
The world seems an imperfect place, just as its people. I believe, there is beauty in that.
[ There is never really an edge to his voice, but after he trails off there is a brief pause. His last sentence is far more resolute: ] Differences alone do not make anyone lesser. Whether intrinsic or otherwise.
[ It is the first time he has ever spoken about such things freely with someone. The joy he feels from it, right from his chest, drums subdued energy into his posture. ]
[It's not what he expected, but in some ways, that makes it feel more genuine. Beauty in imperfection? He can't exactly understand that, but he doesn't hate it.
The latter he can understand more, has heard on rare occasions before. There are certainly plenty in London who would disagree. But Klint was not one of them and most of his impression of the world and how it should be came from him. Klint had been enthusiastic about the exchange program, excited about learning from these people from the other side of the world, so different must their perspectives be! And now that van Zieks knew the truth, knew his anger had been unfounded, he understood that value. A great flaw in the British court system had been undone, almost entirely by men from Japan.
And then, on a more personal level... he was different himself, wasn't he? An invert, as was the common parlance, a term he always found deeply unpleasant. Because, he muses, it certainly has the overtone of being lesser. Wrong.]
I can see how you might have quarrel with people over that, unfortunately. But it's a very nice way of looking at the world. It suits you. [After all, Kaspar is very kind and understanding.]
[ Van Zieks may understand better than many, why his brothers may find quarrel with him, though he did his very best to avoid it. The insults he could bear, if it spared him having to fight them. The eldest most of all. The two that followed were already doing his bidding by the time Kaspar came along. A gulf of years between them and him did Kaspar no favors. The younger ones too, emabraced their designated places in their world. Kaspar blames them least of all
But he thinks of none of that now, not with the conversation at hand. He can't quite tell if it a compliment, but it certainly feels nicer than being called an idiot. Having words come out correctly, to feel understood. It continues to be cathartic in ways that surprise him.
[van Zieks typically errs on the side of pessimism when he speaks. Thus, anything positive he says is said with great consideration, and beyond that, out of a sense of forthrightness. He said what he said because he truly thinks that. He was not expecting a compliment in return, and he's caught off guard momentarily.]
I-I do not know what I have done to earn such an assessment from you, but... thank you.
[ Kaspar's hum this time takes an odd note, not quite agreeable. His perpetual calm remains unbroken, though the pause that follows is more from rarer hesitation than a need to find words. ]
... What of, the way you spoke of justice? Of fairness and corruption?
[ Who knew this was the type of man that could loosen his tongue. ]
You care, about the people of London. I find you kind and honest, despite your roles and not due to them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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With the group we have here, I can hardly imagine it matching such high society events.
Though I'm curious to know your reasons for shirking them, yourself.
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I didn't wish to get married.
[ The irony of their current situation is lost on him. And he says it as if it explains everything. ]
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Ah, that issue. I think London society has given up on me at this point, thankfully, but years ago, constantly, "you still aren't spoken for, Barok?" "you know, Klint was married already for two years when he was your age!" "My Jessica would be a perfect fit for you, Lord van Zieks!" [Scoffs.] As if they had any idea.
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In turn, he imitates his mother's high pitched yet stern and nasal tone. ]
"Think of the nation, Kaspar."
[ A shake of his head. ]
... Now that my brothers are married, I am spared for the moment.
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Small blessings, I suppose. When that moment runs out, you may consider becoming a grim spectre of death, it seems to put people off on a more permanent basis.
[It's a joke, really, but also van Zieks giving Kaspar the option to ask more about this sort of demeanor van Zieks has apparently carried on his shoulders, should he want to.]
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[ Kaspar takes the bait, already reaching the limit of his personal investment into commiseration. He had little plan of returning home anyway if he might help it. Perhaps the goddess will keep him around for his pancakes if marriage doesn't find him. ]
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[Nonsense there's no way no ones trying to marry Kaspar.]
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[ He calmly finishes his tea. ]
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[He pauses.]
My brother, Klint, had been murdered. By a close family friend.
[Revelations aside, that much is still true and enough of a reason for anyone.]
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At ease with grief but unable to voice shallow comforts, his voice is warm without pity. ]
... your brother, what was he like?
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... He was ten years older than me, so he was already making a name for himself when I was still young. He made everything he did seem effortless. But even when he became a star prosecutor, he still made time for me and the rest of the family. There was an easy charisma about him, everyone liked him and wanted to be close to him. Anyone who called him a friend trusted him implicitly.
[Something about all this seems to pain van Zieks to say, even as a faint smile passes across his face, a clear reverence for his older brother.]
Though, he had a stubborn streak. When he was in a rare bad mood, he would sulk terribly, and only communicate with the person he was cross at by speaking to his dog, Balmung, instead of them.
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He even laughs softly after the mention of a stubborn streak. And once the other is finished, his gaze drifts to the other man's wasitcoat. ]
... you have lovely memories. I'm glad.
[ His expression is calm, words warm even when they trail off like he is finding the words for another question in the silence that follows. ]
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I was very lucky to have a brother like him.
[A soft sigh. Even now, he still really believes that.]
But what about you, Kaspar?
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He does not tense at the thought of his brothers, older and younger. They all looked so much like their mother. Subtle listlessness instead of tension creates distance instead of comfort with his relaxed yet harder to read silence.
There were good memories too, of course, just enough that he could never truly dismiss ot hate them. No matter their criticisms or effective disownment. When was the last letter he'd sent? It'd been even longer since he'd gotten one in return from any of then. He makes no habit of dwelling on them, for he doubts they care much about his absence.
A pause, weakened by the talk of brothers with someone he trusts more than anyone back home.
He states it simply, a little too calm. ]
... they do not see the world as I do, I'm afraid.
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He sighs.]
I'm sorry to hear that.
[He pauses a moment, hesitant to pry, but ultimately too curious not to.]
How, exactly, would you say you see the world, Kaspar?
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As subtle as a flower leaning for the sun, his warmth returns-- ]
The world seems an imperfect place, just as its people. I believe, there is beauty in that.
[ There is never really an edge to his voice, but after he trails off there is a brief pause. His last sentence is far more resolute: ] Differences alone do not make anyone lesser. Whether intrinsic or otherwise.
[ It is the first time he has ever spoken about such things freely with someone. The joy he feels from it, right from his chest, drums subdued energy into his posture. ]
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The latter he can understand more, has heard on rare occasions before. There are certainly plenty in London who would disagree. But Klint was not one of them and most of his impression of the world and how it should be came from him. Klint had been enthusiastic about the exchange program, excited about learning from these people from the other side of the world, so different must their perspectives be! And now that van Zieks knew the truth, knew his anger had been unfounded, he understood that value. A great flaw in the British court system had been undone, almost entirely by men from Japan.
And then, on a more personal level... he was different himself, wasn't he? An invert, as was the common parlance, a term he always found deeply unpleasant. Because, he muses, it certainly has the overtone of being lesser. Wrong.]
I can see how you might have quarrel with people over that, unfortunately. But it's a very nice way of looking at the world. It suits you.
[After all, Kaspar is very kind and understanding.]
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But he thinks of none of that now, not with the conversation at hand. He can't quite tell if it a compliment, but it certainly feels nicer than being called an idiot. Having words come out correctly, to feel understood. It continues to be cathartic in ways that surprise him.
His nod is his agreement, before he adds-- ]
... and your convictions suit you.
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I-I do not know what I have done to earn such an assessment from you, but... thank you.
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[ Is what van Zieks has provided for his assessment. Kaspar says it as simply as the weather that catches his eye from the window with a glance.
Followed by more comfortable silence. ]
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[He somehow seems relieved? Or dissapointed? Somehow both? Hm.]
I am only conducting myself as a man of my station should, really.
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... what assessment, would you provide yourself?
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[He sips his tea.]
I am a man fulfilling the roles that have been asked of me. That is all.
[Prosecutor, Nobleman, Reaper.]
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... What of, the way you spoke of justice? Of fairness and corruption?
[ Who knew this was the type of man that could loosen his tongue. ]
You care, about the people of London. I find you kind and honest, despite your roles and not due to them.
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[He looks away.]
If you'll take some unsolicited advice, Kaspar, it is in your best interests to not take people at face value.
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Cw war stuff, death and blood, a little visceral
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