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[betenoir]

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Have you considered what you intend to say?

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un: verleso | voice

[fromfire]

[ One of the positive of living alone is being able to make certain calls: ]

I don't -- I don't know if you've learned how to use this, but -- [ A sigh. ] I was just checking on you.

[betenoir]

You forget I have some familiarity with technology. These devices are nothing I cannot handle. Nor yourself, it seems.

[Considering their importance for communication, he has given uncovering the various functions his attention.]

But that is not why you are calling.

[Is it, son?]

[fromfire]

Not really, but it is different than what we've had in the past.

[ If the Expeditioners had something like this, neither one of them would've been able to move as easily as they did. Still, their long-range communication devices still had their own troubles, he supposes. ]

No. [ 'Course it isn't. ] A mission's coming. I doubt it is going to be as easy as acquiring enough tickets to get a card this time 'round.

[betenoir]

[The issue of technology is reserved for addressing more pressing matters.]

Your caution is warranted. I have spoken to people. All of them confirmed the danger appears to cycle between one mission and the next. Patterns change, of course, but collecting cards is regrettably undemanding.

[His voice strains to hide his concern.]

Verso. I know we have more reason than most to be confident. But you need to be careful.

[fromfire]

Yeah... I've heard the same.

[ His eyes drift down as he lets out a long sigh.

He still doesn't regret what happened in the Monolith. There's still so much that he feels angry and wretched about in regards to Renoir's actions. He's sure an argument is boiling under the surface of everything, but he wasn't lying before, either.

Verso knows being here is the only chance he'll ever have to talk to him, again. To actually have a conversation, to be able to show concern, to have him know that he didn't stop caring. But still -- should he have this chance when he is the one who --

Who does your sacrifice really save? ]

You need to more than I do. I'm still quite spry, you know.

[betenoir]

The benefits of youth, no?

[One can imagine him cocking his head to the side, a proud glint in his pale eyes. But there is a current of steel in his voice hat dispels the notion those eyes might be wrinkling in the corners as he smiles. This world is not the one before. There is no reason to smile except for the affirmation of their relationship.

Which is enough to twitch the corners of his mouth.]

Would you allow me to watch your back?

[Others would slowly, carefully, roll the worlds off their tongue. That has never been his style with his children. Aline, however...]

un: superman | text

[sonofzod]

Next time I see you, I am going to break your cane.

[ This is how you make friends right? ]

un: peintre | text

[betenoir]

[What an angry young man.]

Then I shall fashion another.

Regardless, have you considered you might be in the wrong? Or is today so unremakable that you have taken to sulking?

[Old man shakes fist at cloud phone.]

[sonofzod]

And I will break that one too.

[ Has he considered he was wrong? Probably. Does he care? No. ]

This is personal now.

[betenoir]

Then stop telling yourself it is personal and open your mind to the truth. I am old. That man was young. Who do you think was defending himself?

[His power is not contained within his cane, merely channelled through it. But above that, this man will not find it so easy to break when he cannot keep it in his hands.]

[sonofzod]

All things considered, that man needed to be saved from you.

[betenoir]

Your input is noted. But perhaps that man needed to experience the consequences of his actions. Will he threaten anyone else for a while?

[No.]

Un: Sciel Candide | text

[cache_coeur]

[Bizarre, to message a man about something personal when she’s certain he still doesn’t know her name. But isn’t it better that way? Doesn’t it make it safer, give it a healthy distance?]

Does this message reach a man named Renoir?

[betenoir]

[Bizarre, to receive a message from a stranger, when his affairs are in order. His work is set aside at the first moment in order to offer a timely response.]

Indeed. State your business.

[cache_coeur]

[At least he’s punctual.]

I’m looking for Verso.

[betenoir]

[Renoir has always found himself with the same impression of those who talk to his son; they cannot be trusted to have his interests in mind. But people outside the family cannot understand why he is so misgiving about their intentions.

The reason is not theirs to know. But he can share what he knows.]

Your search is futile. Verso is no longer among us.

[Honest. Unfeeling. Cruel. Some things translate poorly over text.]

[cache_coeur]

[Her turn to feel completely blindsided; she types and stops typing in quick succession, and makes a hard decision on what to send.]

Why?

[betenoir]

I would lay the cause at the foot of Echo's door. There are no signs of his chroma, after all.

[Now he finds himself longing for the canvas, for knowing who is where when he is aware they are there, for the feeling of control.]

Text | un:CliveRosfield - upon return from earth

[herofhopeless]

Have you heard from Verso?

text | un: peintre

[betenoir]

No. You are concerned?

[herofhopeless]

Yeah. I saw him once on Earth and haven’t heard from him since. It’s not like him.

[betenoir]

The boy is always wandering off. I would suggest giving him a moment, because normally he comes back after licking his wounds. But I can think of nothing that suggests this is the case.

I believe he has gone home.

[For the first time in his life he didn't have to drag Verso home by the scruff of his neck. It is a strange feeling.]

Text | 30 minutes later

[herofhopeless]

Thank you for telling me. If you happen to hear from him, would you let me know? I’m going to continue based on the assumption that he isn’t here anymore, but just in case.

[Clive tries desperately to ignore how his heart clenches in his chest. How many will be lost to him here?

Another text a few minutes later:]

Are you alright?

[betenoir]

[That should have been the end of the conversation. But apparently not.

He considers not replying, until he entertains the thought of talking about his son to someone who claims to appreciate him.]

The world feels different. But the world feels different for us all. I doubt I am the only one to find himself in this position.

[The world feels empty. But that feeling is too personal to share.]

action ➤ delivery!

[somnifer]

[ There's a small envelope waiting for Renoir with the name GABRIEL printed on it. Inside is a white feather that shimmers in the light and a card with formal, looping script. ]

Thanks for the words of wisdom. I might not be as eloquent, but I'm hoping this feather comes in handy for you someday. I hear it's magic.

Happy holidays,
The Swan Prince

[ A doodle of a tiny black swan with a crown accompanies the signature. ]