[ 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.
... are those things expected of you and your station? Even here?
[ With a looser tongue, comes his own brand of playfulness. He doesn't explain that if he had taken him at face value, then they'd hardly be friends now. Kaspar will only handle so many disagreements in a day, unless pressed. ]
Regardless of the current situation, I can hardly divorce myself from standards of behavior that has been ingrained in me for decades, even if they are no longer relevant here.
[He's clearly flattered at that statement, which really is proof enough that loyalty is something he values highly.]
You have very little to base such an assessment of me on.
[In any case. That question... he's fairly reluctant to answer, but Kaspar has shown himself to be nothing if not almost unquestioningly accepting.]
When I was still young? Less was asked of me back then, and really I feel I was... awkward and earnest, at best. Just trying to follow Klint's example, even when I was still a child.
[ Kaspar attempts an explanation of sorts, a predictably simple one. Logic that would be easily explained to someone like van Zieks has very little to do with it. A man so loyal that he cannot see beyond the home he left. Not that Kaspar faults him for it, or for being the opposite of himself in that regard. Loyalty, once earned, is something Kaspar values greater than many things.
But he does not give it based solely on structure, logic, or propriety. For Kaspar, it is subject to his personal feelings. And for better or worse van Zieks has earned a level of loyalty. The more the other man shares with him in little moments, the weaker Kaspar becomes.
It doesn't hurt his throat to speak of it, until it tightens by the end-- ]
... there was a time, when I wished to earn my brother's respect. [ He means their love, though to them it was usually one and the same. ]
Our homes, seem to have asked much of both our lives.
[ Kaspar hesitates, and decides again to not admit that he doesn't wish to return home. ]
[It's strange, he thinks, that even after what he's learned, he can't truly imagine not caring for Klint's opinion. But then, he knows that there is much to base his remaining sentiment on, that isn't automatically undone by the wrongs. He can, on a more theoretical level, imagine such a situation.]
... What was asked of you? If... you don't mind me asking. I feel I don't know as much about you as I would like. [Which is, of course, because Kaspar is so quiet. But maybe if he's patient, he can still slowly wring information out of the man.]
[ Kaspar's smile only wavers briefly, a glimpse of grief. Of dark tunnels soaked with blood, of the look on the faces of those he's cared about.
He takes a moment. If van Zieks is patient enough in the silent turmoil that dredging up memories washes over him beneath his calm exterior, he will be rewarded with a cracking. A deep breath does nothing to keep the thickness from his throat. But he wants to be honest. ]
My soul, freedoms. My life, if it came to it. Perhaps, I should, tell you, I have seen war. [ Kaspar shakes his head, expression cloudy when he corrects himself. It's the shakiest his voice has ever been, but there are no tears: ] extermination.
I...
[ He's run out of words, and has no tea to distract him. So he stands to try and slowly pick up the dishes. ]
[A soldier, then. Given his style of dress when they first met, this hardly surprised him, but at the same time, he can hardly imagine someone of Kaspar's temperament at war. He's familiar with soldiers, met several, but "extermination" is... significantly more troubling. There's a deeper and more brutal significance to it. The more he learns about Kaspar's world, the more unpleasant it sounds. And thus the more astounding that it turns out someone as soft and kind as Kaspar.]
Pray forgive the discourtesy of dredging up unpleasant memories. I cannot... Imagine suffering through such things. [And really, that he burdened Kaspar with his own troubles that, while inarguably not insignificant, pale in comparison to the horrors of war, he's sure.]
My own concerns must seem so frivolous in comparison.
[ Kaspar shakes his head at that, reaching a free hand for van Zieks. Whatever part of him is closest to receive the warm squeeze of his hand. He is quiet, but fine. The concern has him fetching himself more tea instead of the final retreat he'd clearly started. He doesn't deserve the pity. It eats at him, causing his chest to feel hallowed and barren.
But selfishly, he likes the comfort, finds he yearns for it on some level. It eases the feeling, but withdraws him for the moment. Kaspar suffered, like many Groscians, though at times he felt as though he was the only one that realized they'd become murderers.
Kaspar already forgave himself, as his previously ignored words to van Zieks might hint. But there would never be a way to avoid the memories completely. The air almost takes on the thin quality of the depths, the stench of it all comes back to him so fast he nearly wavers until the smell of tea overtakes it.
He doesn't sit again, stilling a moment. Another deep breath, quiet and drawn. Sipping at his new cup, the warmth starts ro return to his face and he speaks again if van Zieks is patient this time too. ]
... I welcome your concerns, your thoughts. With more men like you, there would be less need for men like me. I believe.
[Van Zieks allows the hand on his arm, because to refuse Kaspar whatever gave him comfort at the moment would be cruel, he imagines.]
I hardly think you can rightly say that of a man whose work sends people to the gallows. [It's a weak protest, really. After a moment of hesitation, he places his own hand over Kaspar's.]
Really I marvel at your own strength of character for your good nature to persist in the face of such trials, Kaspar.
Does your work, send men to the gallows for their choice in partner?
[ It's sharper than his usual tone, but barely. Kaspar couldn't blame him if he did, given the men he'd walked to the gallows. The way he asks is not rhetoric. He fully believes it a possibility that van Zieks has, even if he doesn't directly suspect it.
Any softness left in his words belong to a friend long gone, whose mind he'd so admired, and before that his first and only love. Both lost to circumstance for the good of the country.
He sounds as though accepting defeat, and it feels as much. He'd followed orders, resisted where safe. A lesson handed him by his father, that surviving with a free mind is a victory in itself in a world that will never understand. He does not regret it, but it leaves him appreciative of van Zieks ability to defend his principles. ]
I followed in my brother's footsteps and focused my efforts on trying men who I felt were doing the most damage to London. Leaders of organized crime, fraud, high profile murderers. [You know, real criminals.]
You survived, for all intents and purposes, with your optimism intact. Meanwhile, I allowed a single moment of loss to profoundly change who I was as a person. [He was, as he said, very different when he was younger.]
[ Kaspar is drawn to him at his response, moving even as van Zieks continues speaking. For London, the greater good, for his brother, he cared. Kaspar can't imagine van Zieks complicit like he'd been in his own youth. Words that are firm, immediate, and to Kaspar born of all the things he so admires in van Zieks, grounds him. Confirmation of what he felt is a subtle relief he didn't expect.
With easy acceptance, it is instinct to set his tea aside and embrace what he is allowed of the other man's seated form while he remains standing. It's unclear if he is seeking comfort or providing it with strong arms and soft flannel. Perhaps both.
His low voice is paired with the gentle run of his fingers in dark hair, if he has yet to be shooed away. ]
We are, very different people. And your loss, was also profound.
[The hug is a surprise, and he tenses up reflexively just in how he wasn't expecting it. But he doesn't push Kaspar away, because while he would never in a million years admit it, he so desperately missed and wanted for someone to just hold him and tell him it was okay to be sad, which is essentially what Kaspar is giving him permission to do.
What's important is that it mattered to you
A memory, half-remembered, of Klint comforting him, when he was probably upset about something ridiculously childish. But he'd been given permission to be upset anyway. Of course, Kaspar is nothing like Klint. It really had no connection at all. But it does stop him from apologizing for his feelings. He simply remains still for a minute in Kaspar's grasp. He doesn't cry, doesn't feel like he really knows how to anymore, but he does relax in the other man's hold.]
You're remarkably kind, Kaspar. [Quietly observed when he finally feels he should say something.]
[ Kaspar holds him through the tensing, patient and comfortable in the silence. The feel of his warmth, the subtle movements under cloth to breath, innately has him synching his inhales with van Zieks. Bestowing physical affection like this comes naturally, almost needy after so many years under lock and key.
When van Zieks comments, Kaspar's hand travels to press against the other man's hair. Instead of words, Kaspar hums a soft sound as he curls into him slightly. ]
[And it's at this exact moment that first germinates the seed of what is at the root of several of his issues later on in their time in Crescentview, a single thought of; what did I do to deserve this?
For the moment, though, he's able to dismiss it, and the extra layer of kind touch finally pushes him over some sort of threshhold and he can't stop himself from returning Kaspar's hug, grip tight and resolute as so many of his actions are, almost to the point that it negates the intrinsic softness of a hug.]
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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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[ With a looser tongue, comes his own brand of playfulness. He doesn't explain that if he had taken him at face value, then they'd hardly be friends now. Kaspar will only handle so many disagreements in a day, unless pressed. ]
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[ Kaspar surprises even himself with the speed and conviction that settles into that additional assessment. ]
What would your assessment have been, decades ago?
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You have very little to base such an assessment of me on.
[In any case. That question... he's fairly reluctant to answer, but Kaspar has shown himself to be nothing if not almost unquestioningly accepting.]
When I was still young? Less was asked of me back then, and really I feel I was... awkward and earnest, at best. Just trying to follow Klint's example, even when I was still a child.
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[ Kaspar attempts an explanation of sorts, a predictably simple one. Logic that would be easily explained to someone like van Zieks has very little to do with it. A man so loyal that he cannot see beyond the home he left. Not that Kaspar faults him for it, or for being the opposite of himself in that regard. Loyalty, once earned, is something Kaspar values greater than many things.
But he does not give it based solely on structure, logic, or propriety. For Kaspar, it is subject to his personal feelings. And for better or worse van Zieks has earned a level of loyalty. The more the other man shares with him in little moments, the weaker Kaspar becomes.
It doesn't hurt his throat to speak of it, until it tightens by the end-- ]
... there was a time, when I wished to earn my brother's respect. [ He means their love, though to them it was usually one and the same. ]
Our homes, seem to have asked much of both our lives.
[ Kaspar hesitates, and decides again to not admit that he doesn't wish to return home. ]
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... What was asked of you? If... you don't mind me asking. I feel I don't know as much about you as I would like.
[Which is, of course, because Kaspar is so quiet. But maybe if he's patient, he can still slowly wring information out of the man.]
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He takes a moment. If van Zieks is patient enough in the silent turmoil that dredging up memories washes over him beneath his calm exterior, he will be rewarded with a cracking. A deep breath does nothing to keep the thickness from his throat. But he wants to be honest. ]
My soul, freedoms. My life, if it came to it. Perhaps, I should, tell you, I have seen war. [ Kaspar shakes his head, expression cloudy when he corrects himself. It's the shakiest his voice has ever been, but there are no tears: ] extermination.
I...
[ He's run out of words, and has no tea to distract him. So he stands to try and slowly pick up the dishes. ]
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Pray forgive the discourtesy of dredging up unpleasant memories. I cannot... Imagine suffering through such things.
[And really, that he burdened Kaspar with his own troubles that, while inarguably not insignificant, pale in comparison to the horrors of war, he's sure.]
My own concerns must seem so frivolous in comparison.
Cw war stuff, death and blood, a little visceral
But selfishly, he likes the comfort, finds he yearns for it on some level. It eases the feeling, but withdraws him for the moment. Kaspar suffered, like many Groscians, though at times he felt as though he was the only one that realized they'd become murderers.
Kaspar already forgave himself, as his previously ignored words to van Zieks might hint. But there would never be a way to avoid the memories completely. The air almost takes on the thin quality of the depths, the stench of it all comes back to him so fast he nearly wavers until the smell of tea overtakes it.
He doesn't sit again, stilling a moment. Another deep breath, quiet and drawn. Sipping at his new cup, the warmth starts ro return to his face and he speaks again if van Zieks is patient this time too. ]
... I welcome your concerns, your thoughts. With more men like you, there would be less need for men like me. I believe.
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I hardly think you can rightly say that of a man whose work sends people to the gallows.
[It's a weak protest, really. After a moment of hesitation, he places his own hand over Kaspar's.]
Really I marvel at your own strength of character for your good nature to persist in the face of such trials, Kaspar.
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[ It's sharper than his usual tone, but barely. Kaspar couldn't blame him if he did, given the men he'd walked to the gallows. The way he asks is not rhetoric. He fully believes it a possibility that van Zieks has, even if he doesn't directly suspect it.
Any softness left in his words belong to a friend long gone, whose mind he'd so admired, and before that his first and only love. Both lost to circumstance for the good of the country.
He sounds as though accepting defeat, and it feels as much. He'd followed orders, resisted where safe. A lesson handed him by his father, that surviving with a free mind is a victory in itself in a world that will never understand. He does not regret it, but it leaves him appreciative of van Zieks ability to defend his principles. ]
... I survived, that is all.
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[His answer is firm and immediate.]
I followed in my brother's footsteps and focused my efforts on trying men who I felt were doing the most damage to London. Leaders of organized crime, fraud, high profile murderers.
[You know, real criminals.]
You survived, for all intents and purposes, with your optimism intact. Meanwhile, I allowed a single moment of loss to profoundly change who I was as a person.
[He was, as he said, very different when he was younger.]
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With easy acceptance, it is instinct to set his tea aside and embrace what he is allowed of the other man's seated form while he remains standing. It's unclear if he is seeking comfort or providing it with strong arms and soft flannel. Perhaps both.
His low voice is paired with the gentle run of his fingers in dark hair, if he has yet to be shooed away. ]
We are, very different people. And your loss, was also profound.
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What's important is that it mattered to you
A memory, half-remembered, of Klint comforting him, when he was probably upset about something ridiculously childish. But he'd been given permission to be upset anyway. Of course, Kaspar is nothing like Klint. It really had no connection at all. But it does stop him from apologizing for his feelings. He simply remains still for a minute in Kaspar's grasp. He doesn't cry, doesn't feel like he really knows how to anymore, but he does relax in the other man's hold.]
You're remarkably kind, Kaspar.
[Quietly observed when he finally feels he should say something.]
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When van Zieks comments, Kaspar's hand travels to press against the other man's hair. Instead of words, Kaspar hums a soft sound as he curls into him slightly. ]
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For the moment, though, he's able to dismiss it, and the extra layer of kind touch finally pushes him over some sort of threshhold and he can't stop himself from returning Kaspar's hug, grip tight and resolute as so many of his actions are, almost to the point that it negates the intrinsic softness of a hug.]