tenyearslost | IC Contact; empatheias

Today is a peaceful day. A calm, quiet, contemplative sort of day. The weather is pleasant, birds are chirping, the leaves are changing color and comfy looking clouds trail listlessly across the sky. Even the wind seems to be taking a short break.

Sounds like the perfect time for Gilbert to bust in and ruin it.

He spots Oz through the window, rushes out through the back door and onto the porch, waving a small soup bowl, once shattered into several pieces, now stitched back together with gold as though it were never broken to begin with.

"Oz!" he yells across the garden, holding the bowl up high. "Look! I've finally got the hang of it!"

It's the kind of day Oz has always liked to spend outside--even back before the beginning of everything, when his troubles were confined to his absentee father and the occasional kidnapping. It's cool without being cold, and without a breeze, the sun is free to warm his legs and face.

It's no surprise that he's out back right now, but he's not alone. Gilbird is sitting on the porch, content to be in his vicinity, and even Chicken Duke has deigned to grace the outdoors with his premise for a while. Oz is further out in the yard, crouched down and hands outstretched when Gilbert barges through the door.

In front of him is a steadily growing wall of light, glowing orbs nestling comfortably together to build a shield. It's a good size by now--Oz would have to climb over it properly, rather than just step, if he wanted to. The orbs waver slightly as Oz's concentration breaks, but they hold form as he looks over, brightening up.

"Great job, Gil!" He calls back, craning his neck to see better. He doesn't bother to get up and go over to inspect it, knowing Gilbert's probably going to run to him in 3, 2...

Eh--

That's. New. But clearly it's not new, because he's able to hold it even after being interrupted, and Gil knows from experience now that it's no easy task. Bowl still in hand, Gilbert gestures wildly at the shield, his empty sleeve flopping back and forth from the exaggerated movement.

"Wait - wait-wait-wait - how long have you been able to do that?!"

And more importantly, how did Gilbert never notice before?!

Gil come closer so you don't have to shout!!

(She writes, as if Gil wouldn't be shouting anyway. Lol, a joke!)

"Huh? Oh, this?" Oz tilts his head, considering, and the orb wall follows suit, leaning just slightly to the side. He hasn't perfected his dunamis yet, but that's the whole reason he's out here, after all. Practice!

"A couple of weeks, I think. I started practicing with Miss Hibiki a little while after Helisium, but it took a little time to figure out how it worked. I thought I'd see how big of a wall I could make today."

He grins, nonchalant, because it's obvious that Gilbert is in a state, which means it'll be up to Oz to calm him down.

A couple of weeks...

If it were only a few days and he'd been purposely practicing in secret, Gilbert could understand his ignorance, but right now he's out in plain view. Either he has the worst timing ever when it comes to catching Oz on his practice time or he hasn't been paying attention to his friend at all. The latter is a very, very depressing thought.

He slumps, dropping his arm down to his side, his grip tightening to make sure that the bowl doesn't fall and break. Again. On accident, rather than on purpose this time for the sake of his own practice.

"Is that so...?"

Does this count as calm?

No. No, it does not, and Oz resists the urge to frown, lowering his hands. The wall disintegrates, little light particles scattering like dust into the air as he stands up, walking over to his best friend. He'd like to reach out and take the bowl, to get a better look and share in Gilbert's excitement, but now isn't the time.

"Gil?"

It's a gentle prompt, nothing more. It's only fair, isn't it? But then, Gilbert's never really had the same problems he's had, when it comes to communicating his feelings. Even back when he'd tried to hide his identity, convinced of his betrayal of the Vessalius household, he'd stayed by Oz's side. That alone spoke more than his words ever did. So Oz is patient, waiting for him to speak up about whatever's bothering him.

If he had both hands, he's be fidgeting. It's difficult to do with just the one, especially when it's already occupied. He keeps his eyes down as Oz approaches, and even after he addresses him, he still can't bring himself to look up. Which is the problem to begin with, he realizes.

"A couple weeks," he repeats. "Sorry. I haven't been paying you enough attention at all..."

Ah. So that's what it is.

Oz hums, rocking back on his heels. He still has to tilt his head back to look at Gilbert's face--how long will it be, he wonders, before he hits Jack's height? Or is this body going to stay just the way it is now, forever, until Empatheias is finished with him and sends him back to the cycle?

Not paying enough attention...

"We never really talked about it, did we?" He says eventually. Up, up, up. The sky really is beautiful today. "How different things are here, compared to back home."

...should that be his line? Or is it something they really shouldn't be saying at all?

Gil has wondered that, too. They know how tall Oz will become, but not how long it'll take before he reaches it. They should be measuring him now. Would he be offended? Would he not want to talk about it now? More things that they've never discussed...

"I was just relieved that you were back...that was enough for me," he admits. "Ah, that was foolish, wasn't it? Either of us could leave again at any minute."

They shouldn't be wasting time getting complicate.

"Yeah, there's that too."

But it's not what Oz was thinking, even though it's a very real possibility. Still, it's not so far removed from what's on his mind at the moment, so it's a good start.

"And if you leave, you'll be going on ahead and living without me." He doesn't say "won't you?" because it's not a question; Gilbert's already got three months on him, months that he'll never, ever see. And if they don't leave...

They're together here, yes, and Oz is grateful for it every day. A life without Gilbert isn't something he even really wants to think about. But at the same time... it's really not the same, is it? Isn't that what Kevin's always insisting?

"I'm not really a Vessalius here, you know," he comments, idly reaching out to toy with Gilbert's empty sleeve. He doesn't fidget often, but this is one of those rare moments where he doesn't know exactly how to voice what he's feeling. "Have you noticed? Most people here don't have servants at all."

He's still prepared to wait those hundred years, no matter how much he's gotten used to waking up and seeing Oz's face, or expected to hear his voice. His will hasn't faltered a single bit, though for a while it had been slightly ignored. Or rather, it's only silently being fueled by Oz's smile. Wasn't that the goal all along?

"Mm. The idea is...upsetting to more people than not," he adds. Back home there had been bullying towards his status as servant, but there had never been pity. Here, there's pity. He tilts his head a little, his expression questioning. It asks Oz to go on, even if he doesn't voice it.

A nod; Oz has noticed the same thing. He hasn't received any judgment on his part--probably because he puts such emphasis on the fact that Gilbert is, first and foremost, his best friend.

Is that where they differ? They've both changed so much, but maybe it's not such a recent thing. Maybe this is something that began all those years ago, when Gilbert fell into his life and gave him the companionship he hadn't realized he'd so desperately needed.

"And back home, you wouldn't be my servant. Not anymore," he says, and his tone is casual, but his words are careful. He doesn't want to give Gilbert the wrong impression, which is more likely than not, even after all they've been through. It isn't like he wants to send Gilbert away, or like he even minds the doting and fierce loyalty, embarrassing as it sometimes is. Gilbert wouldn't be Gilbert without those qualities.

But still... at this point in time, back in their world, Gilbert would be-- doing Gilbert things, and Oz would be gone. They're side by side here, but walking separate paths, and maybe... maybe it's time for a change.

"We have a lot of chances here, that we wouldn't have back home. We can do or be anything, can't we?"

Back home they wouldn't have had much time to find out just what sorts of friends they would have been like without the influence of their story. But what Gilbert is sure of, and Oz knows from seeing it for himself, is that no matter how the story is written, the two of them are connected through it all. That won't change here, but it still makes it more difficult to navigate.

"And?" he says with a fond smile. "What do you want to be...?"

He might be cross with himself and anxious for the future, but this is an important question.

Well that one's easy.

"I want to be your best friend," he says, with the kind of smile that Elliot would've gagged and punched him over. But it's the pure and simple truth. Sure, he wants to forge a path for himself here, to find out what it means to just be "Oz". But this isn't about him, it's about them, and in the context of them...

They already are best friends, of course. That's probably what Gilbert will say. Or maybe not--maybe he'll actually stop and think about it without further guidance, think about what it means to be friends here, in this new and wholly different world they're now calling home.

Of course that's what Gil is going to say.

"You're already my best friend," he answers, reaching out his hand to muss Oz's hair. "Have more ambition than just that."

They're going to have to try a lot of different things before Oz finally finds his way here, he's sure. Neither of them had a huge chance to experience much in their lives aside from what was necessary and nothing more, but that's also what made the times they would go out to the fields or into the city so special. It's why they can appreciate the tiny moments in life that would otherwise go by without ceremony.

"Sure," Oz agrees easily, because it is true. Ah, headpats. Excellent. "After being your master."

And therein lies the... well, it's not even an issue, not really. It's just that, without that built-in attachment binding them together, there's nothing stopping Gilbert from going out and forging new relationships, ones that go beyond fate or necessity.

(It's just that maybe, he wants to be Gilbert's best friend by choice, not by default. That, however, is not something he's ever going to say out loud.)

"I want to be your best friend, not your only friend," he says, and while his tone is teasing, his eyes are not. "You're the one who should have more ambition, you're not even married yet!"

GET A GIRLFRIEND GILBERT and also maybe find one with a cute younger sister--

--ahem. Anyway.

"I'm not going anywhere, Gil. I know I shouldn't make promises like that," not after he'd disappeared not once, not twice, but three times from Gilbert's lifetime across two universes, "But it's true. You don't need to worry about missing anything." Because 'paying attention' translates into just that, doesn't it? And sure, okay, maybe the part where he'd grown up with no one but Gilbert and Ada for company might have something to do with Gilbert's feelings, but. That's not something Oz has really put much time into considering, and he isn't about to start now.

LOOK he decided a long time ago that it was just not going to be in the cards for him to get a girlfriend let alone a wife so the topic has literally never come up. As for his heart, but...it's been through a lot. It's only been by some strange miracle that he hasn't regressed much after Oz was gone the second time. Friends, sure. He's open to the idea of letting more people into his life, even though his housemates really do take up so much of his time already.

"...Mm," he hums, nods his head. Neither of them can make those promises, but there's more to being here than in physical body. Gilbert should have understood that the last time, that Oz would always be with him somehow.

"Did I tell you...that back home, I started to write down everything that happened to us? When I'm done with that, I'm going to write down everything important that's happened since you've been gone. I didn't want you to miss anything. So maybe that's why..."

Why he's so depressed about it now.

From the brief, mildly surprised look on his face, the answer is no. No, it hadn't come up yet--understandable, since they hadn't talked very much about the world from Gilbert's point in time. Oz hadn't asked, despite his curiosity. He would, he does want to know, and of course Gilbert would know that. But it had seemed like something he wasn't supposed to touch, some fragile gift that Oz simply wasn't meant to be a part of. He wants to know, but he's accepted that, and he'd assumed Gilbert would have plenty of reasons for not telling him.

Oz's gaze flickers down, and something of a pained smile tugs at his lips. "...He would've been happy to hear that."

Oscar shared their love of precious memories, after all. He would've been--no, he was proud of the person Gilbert became, Oz is sure of that.

It doesn't have anything to do with the topic at hand, since Oscar isn't here, may never be here. But Oz lets himself linger on the thought anyway. Just for a moment.

Likewise, Gilbert is surprised to hear Oz bringing up Oscar so casually like this. They've both had time to heal, but Oscar was something beyond precious, one of so many who had sacrificed themselves in order to see them through to the end. A memory of tea party fills his head, and then fills the space around them. Not the image of it, but the feelings, the swirl of happy emotions of that day. It's so thick, it feels like you can reach out and touch that dreamlike happiness they'd all felt.

It's such a relief, he thinks, that that's the emotion that comes through the strongest. There's still grief, and always will be, but it's only secondary now.

"I'd be happy to greet him again too someday...and tell him all about it."

You know, after he's done weeping.

Admittedly, it's a lot. Almost too much, even wrapped in the warmth and simple joy they'd all felt that day. This is as far as Oz is willing to go, it seems, at least for now--he's quiet for a long minute, and when he looks up again, that familiar lighthearted attitude is back. The part of him that's dared to venture forward into acknowledging loss has retreated.

"If it bothers you that much," he says thoughtfully, tapping at his cheek, "What if we made something kind of like that? Like a journal, but one that we could share, and write down the things that happened that day, or that week, you know." Sure, they have the amulets, and they're still together often enough that they could find a way to sit down and tell each other about their day in person. But it's not quite the same as sitting down, deliberately remembering recent events in order to pass them on. Plus, it's almost a project--something positive for Gilbert to focus on, and if Kevin (doubtful) or Hibiki (less doubtful) wanted to join in, they could. Almost like a household diary.

It's a good idea. A fanciful idea, a sentimental idea. They could keep it in the hallway between the two houses, in a wide open space where people could feel comfortable sitting down and writing their thoughts when the occasion struck. Not every day, just when important things worth documenting came up. Sometimes, that could mean every day, Gil contemplates as he thinks back on the last few days they'd all spend together in their world.

"...Yeah," he finally answers, smiling that same fond smile. He mirrors Oz's movements by bringing his own hand up to the side of his face, but instead rubs at the back of his neck. "That's a really good idea. Maybe it would help the Arehtei in some way, too."

There's a lot that they still don't know about the magic behind the Arehtei, so who knows? Maybe putting good thoughts down in one place like this would make their own positive emotions all the more powerful.

It's a small thing, hardly even a compliment, but Oz perks up anyway, pleased. "You think so? That would be great!"

It's been frustrating, that he's only been able to help Peromei a little, in the grand scheme of things. He understands the logic of balance, but it's difficult all the same. When you're used to putting everything on the line, supported by nothing but hope... reining that in can be practically stifling.

But more importantly, this is a prime opportunity to make Gilbert feel useful. A QUEST. He turns his finger on his best friend, poking him in the chest. "Then I'll leave it to you to find the perfect journal, okay? You'd better pick a good one!"

He wonders, but he doesn't know for certain that something like this would help. But then, the things that do help aren't ones that are obvious to everyone from every world. There are different types of miracles and magic in each individual one, and there's still a lifetime of new things to learn here. It doesn't hurt to try.

"Eh - me?" he answers. "N-no, you're more familiar with things like books! You should be the one to pick it out!"

What if he chooses poorly and it ends up being some terrible, gaudy thing that no one wants to write in at all??

Nnnnnope, nice try. But this is more for Gilbert's benefit than anyone else's, Oz thinks, so he just crosses his arms and gives his servant a look.

"Gilbert," he says sternly, "I'm counting on you, got it?"

This is a whole lot of pressure. Pressure that shouldn't be pressure because to any sort of normal human being this would just be a boring chore, but to someone like Gilbert with Many Feelings he suddenly feels burdened with this very important decision.

It's going to take some time.

"Yeah," he finally answers. "You can count on me."

And that's exactly what Oz was going for. As per usual.

"Great!" He beams, and while he doesn't summon any sparkles, it's close enough. "Then I'm going to head inside for a little bit, okay?"

"Yeah."

He hesitates, thinks about why he'd come out here to talk to Oz to begin with. That's right, Dunamis. He thinks back to the cup he'd repaired, the fence he and Kevin had mended, the ways that he'd been able to summon this power to begin with. At its core, his own power to pull things back together and seal them in beauty and fragility, begins and ends with this young man in front of him.

"I may not have been watching you close enough," he mutters, "but I'm proud of you, Oz."

He pats him on the back, and then pushes him along so he can head back inside. Gil doesn't make any moves to follow, though. It's nice outside, and clearly he's going to need to practice a lot more to catch up to his young master.

IC Contact; empatheias

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