"You should come home for Christmas."
Slaine offered Klancain that same sheepish smile that he'd been wearing for the past three years every time his younger brother brought up the subject. He suddenly found his old worn-out slippers far more interesting than the look Klancain was no doubt giving him.
"I want to get a head start on my course load for next semester." Slaine tilted his head to the side, his eyes wandering from the floor over to the kitchen, which had not yet been tidied up. The semester had ended almost a week ago, and he had yet to clear off the assortment of books and papers that had accumulated on the table. Slaine would usually have that cleaned up, but in his defense, he'd been rather distracted. He'd have to fix that some time soon. "The science lab is also interested in hiring me to feed their rats over the holiday again. It doesn't pay much, but it's easy, and I already know what to do."
His younger brother shook his head, firmed his lips, and slightly narrowed his eyes in that way that very clearly said Slaine was making excuses. Or, well, Slaine expected he was, cause he was still looking at the kitchen, which also needed dusting. Slaine was making excuses. Instead of even acknowledging what he'd said, Klancain redirected the conversation. "Father isn't even going to be there for most of the holiday. He's got a conference in Zurich."
"Someone needs to take care of Tharsi-" Their parakeet squawked from down the hall. She was especially sensitive to her name being mentioned. Slaine tilted his head slightly towards the hallway, to see if she was going to fly out towards him. She did not, which meant he had to look back in Klancain's direction. Or, well, in his general direction.
Undeterred from either sound, Klancain continued, without any remorse for interrupting him. "Mom will ask about you-" As Klancain had no trouble informing him, she asked every year. Loudly, and repeatedly, according to Klancain. Slaine could feel Klancain staring him down, but refused to make eye contact. It was important.
If Klancain didn't have any problem interrupting him -not that Klancain ever had any problems interrupting him- Slaine could also play that game. In fact, it would be significantly easier, in fact. "Need to make sure the plants are watered-" Slaine kept a million different potted plants in the house. They just died in the winter if he left them outside in their spacious backyard, and he couldn't see the sense in letting that happen. The heating zapped a lot of the moisture, so they needed even more water than usual, but at least they wouldn't die.
Klancain puffed air out of his nose, before promptly cutting Slaine off again, because at this point in their relationship, this was a game they both knew how to play. It was almost as if whoever could get out the most complete, finished thoughts was the winner. That wasn't really the case, but Slaine kept tabs on it anyway. "She doesn't want to mail your presents aga-" She always sent him presents, that was true. Often express. In fact, the mail man knew him for it. Not because his name was weird -which it was, though to be fair Klancain's was stranger- but because he was one of the only people on his regular route who always got a large amount of packages Christmas Eve. The mail man always asked if he was 'holding down the fort' which made his avoidance of familial obligations seem like a much more valiant effort than it actually was. Slaine wouldn't admit out loud that it was embarrassing, when he blushed and nodded his head at the mail man's inquiries. It certainly was embarrassing that the mail man knew when his birthday ways, because the same thing happened in early January.
Klancain wasn't going to win. At least, not in the sense he would want. Slaine had far too many reasons stacked up. He actually written out a list in a notebook when he was suppose to be studying three weeks ago. "What if someone breaks in while we're gone-" Not that it was very likely. They lived in a nice neighborhood, with an exceptionally low crime rate, and had a very good security system. It wasn't likely anyone would be breaking in, but it was technically possible, and significantly less likely if he was still in the house. People were less likely to break in if you were there, or so he'd been told, and it was a nice house, with nice things. Most of those nice things he would like to keep, even if Klancain could afford to buy five of everything in it (and five more houses too).
His younger brother's frown hardened, but Slaine, despite the sweat in his fisted palms and the consistent shifting of his eyes, was not going to be without ammunition this time. That certainly didn't mean Klancain would just give up though. "You don't even eat properly when-" Klancain was reaching there. He did have a slight tendency to get lost in what he was doing, but it didn't stop him from eating. Regularly. Maybe. Besides, it wasn't like he couldn't just cook something, or order take out. He was more than capable in both areas, and unlike some spoiled brat he knew, he actually ate his leftovers instead of letting them go to waste.
Slaine's lips formed into a tighter line, and his cheeks were probably puffing up in the effort. "It's not like I'm going to lock myself in the house and no le-" It was the wrong thing to say, and Slaine knew it. He'd been simply redirecting Klancain's statements, and now he'd just directly responded to one. It was a bad sign, but still, he had to stick to his guns. Klancain, for whatever reason, was being more persistent than usual.
Klancain, predictably, pounced."No, you'll go wandering the streets on your own instead. In the snow. Probably without proper clothing." Slaine tolled off one point for Klancain, the first to get out a complete thought. Blast it!
It took him two seconds too long to respond, and when it did come, it was a mumbled, grumbled little thing. Hardly a valid rebuttal. "I'm from Norway-" Cause he had been at some point, even though it didn't really matter at this point.
"Not anymore you aren't." Clipped and precise, just like Klancain. Another point in his box. This wasn't fair, because Klancain was good at this. Slaine could usually hold his own, but it hadn't exactly been his month.
Instead of answering, Slaine sighed deeply, and kept looking down at the wooden floors of the entryway, thinking about how he could trace little shapes in the wood; little things with eyes and hearts and abstract things that only made sense to him. He wondered if Klancain saw those things, or just saw wood. It was probably just wood to him anyway.
"Slaine," The statement was a request of some sort, and hesitantly Slaine lifted his eyes up to look at his younger brother. Klancain was looking at him, and for a moment, Slaine thought they were going to have 'a talk'. A real, serious 'talk'. Then that moment ended. Klancain closed his eyes, and readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder. Slaine expected him to soften, to look visibly resigned, but he didn't. Klancain's shoulders didn't sag, instead, he just looked tense. "I'll tell mom you got a job, and to expect you for a week in summer, like usual." Klancain didn't look at him again, just turned towards the door, and shook his head. "I'll tell her you're sorry."
"Thank you." Slaine answered softly. Klancain stood around just long enough to hear it, before he was gone. The door was closed before Slaine could get the "Drive safely!" out of his mouth.
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Upon checking his e-mail, after puttering around the house needlessly for a few hours, Slaine was relieved to find that a few of his instructors had gotten back to him about his courses for the next semester. Slaine liked to start his school work early. There was something about being prepared that made him less anxious about things. Usually, some of his instructors were responsive, and others were not. Two of the responses were rather simple, they listed the books he'd need, and what extra readings there would be for the coming term. Getting this information ahead of time allowed him to order the books now, and start to read them before the rat race of the semester began.
The third response interested him the most. It was from his self study mechanical engineering course. He would need to find an old machine of some kind -at least 30 years old- and repair it to working condition, or completely refurbish it. He would be required to take good documentation of the process and submit the reports before the end of the semester. After the instructions, there was a list of suggested machines, but at the end of the list, it said that creativity would be rewarded, a simple 'impress me' was at the very bottom of the e-mail. Slaine hoped he could.
He sat for several moments, trying to come up with something that would be suitably impressive. He always found it hardest to come up with things when he was given too much freedom, but he didn't want to refer to the list either. Those items were expected, and he figured he'd only be able to submit something mediocre if he followed them. He was just about to take a walk to help clear his head, when something came to his mind that Slaine knew would be perfect. He scanned the list of options again, but found himself singling in on the 'impress me' once again. Within a few moments, he was headed for the door. Just as he was reaching for the handle, he stopped, groaned, and doubled back for a jacket.
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"Calm, guess what I just did." Slaine didn't wait for Calm to give him the obligatory 'Hello' when he answered the phone. He usually would have, but the rush of being impulsive had given him a sort of confidence he didn't usually have and he blurted out the statement as soon as he was sure his friend had answered.
The phone was silent for two seconds, before it came to life again. "You didn't." Calm's voice held just enough accusation to be entirely satisfying. Calm liked to say he was predictable. Slaine liked to prove him wrong, from time to time. When he could, which he had to admit, wasn't often. He wasn't sure if he'd done it this time or not, but he wanted to pretend he had.
Slaine couldn't help the small smile that spread on his face, even if Calm couldn't see it. He probably should have been less pleased, because Calm DID know what he'd done, but he'd learned in his life to savor the little victories, even if they were questionable at best. "I did."
The exasperated sound that came over the phone was enough to make Slaine's smile widen. He could imagine Calm, leaning his head back, probably with some sort of grease on his chin, scrunching up his face. "I told you to let me see it first!"
"I just got the perfect excuse though." Slaine answered a little sheepishly. He half shrugged one of his shoulders, then felt silly, since Calm couldn't even see him.
"Alright," Calm answered, breathy and resigned. "I'm on my way to take a look at it. You really should have waited." The last line was chiding, and Slaine was sure Calm was right. He should have waited, but the need to do something at least slightly irrational had been eating away at him for a while. This really had been an ideal opportunity.
"I've been patient," He answered a little defensively. "but you were always busy." That wasn't entirely true, because Slaine had only mentioned it in passing a few times. Calm had likely assumed he hadn't been serious. The assumption would have been right, of course, but that didn't matter much now. "And, about you coming over, I kinda need you to pick me up." Slaine added, hesitantly.
There was a pause, and then another sign of exasperation. "Of course. You took your bike there." It was more of a rhetorical statement than anything else, but that didn't stop Slaine from mumbling a response.
"I take my bike everywhere."
There was another pause, in which Slaine could almost hear the gears in Calm's head as they ground to another conclusion. "You aren't sitting out in the snow with it are you?"
"No," Slaine answered simply, before looking over his shoulder. "But the shop keeper is looking at me like he wants to kick me out." He said quietly. The clerk really did look annoyed, but just in case he was listening, Slaine didn't want to give him ideas by being overheard.
"I'll be there soon. Text me the address."
Slaine smiled. "Thanks Calm."
He could almost see Calm shaking his head."Don't thank me yet, I could be the bearer of very bad news."
Slaine laughed softly at that. "It can't be that bad."
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Slaine had seen the android a month ago, and that was when this strange situation had really started.
Slaine didn't honestly like shopping. When he actually wanted to buy things, or just spend money, he went to nurseries, as the assortment of plants in their apartment was testament to. Despite his general dislike of the pastime, he enjoyed window shopping a lot. In particular, his favorite haunts were art galleries, and antique stores. He loved art, and he loved old things. He even had a list of galleries and antique stores that he frequented. Sometimes, he'd walk through one of those stores, and find one thing, and imagine a whole room decorated around that one thing. He'd think about what else would go with it, about where the lighting should be, and about how the room should look. It was silly, but it was nice too. His childhood had been littered with memories of barren places, hotel rooms and cheap apartments, all with few adornments. It gave him a large catalogue of useless layouts in his head, which made the whole decorating thing even more interesting. It was nice to imagine what it would be like to have a stable home he could decorate himself. The house that he lived in now was Klancain's, paid for with Cruhteo money. It was his home, there was no denying that, but as with everything 'Cruhteo' he didn't feel like he could really do a whole lot with it. It was his space, Klancain had made that perfectly clear, but it didn't feel like his space some times.
Plus, if he was being entirely honest, he didn't like to waste money. Even though he loved art, and antiques, spending money on them always felt like a waste. He could spend money on books -he went to book stores to really spend money too- and he could spend money on food, or the house, or any number of practical things. Art and antiques were not two of those things. They were simply impractical. Still, Slaine liked to look, and he liked to imagine.
It was in one of the many antique stores that he liked to wander through, where he'd seen the android. It had been posed as if it was an oversized doll, lounging in a chair, and Slaine's eyes had immediately been drawn to it. Slaine didn't know why, but reclined in that old wicker chair, with its neck stretched, head angled upwards, and its eyes gently closed, Slaine had felt an unspeakable sadness. When he reflected on it later, it was like seeing a stray animal that he knew he could help. Something about his reaction had been instinctual, and even though he'd walked away, Slaine hadn't forgotten about it.
Calm liked androids, or, well, just about anything mechanical. He looked like a regular kind of guy when you first met him, but once you got to know him, it was easy to see he belonged in engineering or robotics. There was no denying that he belonged in it more than Slaine did. Calm hid it pretty well, because he didn't like to seem nerdy, but once it was obvious, there was no ignoring it. It was rather funny, but Calm could talk more easily about machines than anything else, and he was damn good at building things from the ground up. He wasn't so good at coming up with the initial ideas for things, but once he had a concept, he could make something to fill out the details.
That same day after leaving the antique store, Slaine had called up his friend, and given him a bit of an interrogation. He'd asked all manner of questions about androids. How difficult they were to fix -he had decent skills mechanically, but he'd never tried anything like an android before. How easy were parts to get? What kind of money would someone usually sink into refurbishing one? Calm had answered all his questions rather skillfully. The end result had been that Slaine was pretty sure that he COULD fix that android. It would take a lot of work, and some money, but he was sure he could do it.
That didn't translate to him actually doing it though. Slaine was more than capable of talking himself out of most of his more impulsive urges, and he had done just that in this case. He didn't have the time for such a project. It would cost a lot of money. He could really screw it up. Calm had said it could be a fake. What would Klancain say when he brought home a damn android? His younger brother teased him enough when he brought home more potted plants. Would he just keep it in his room, so that it would sit there ominously at night? What if Tharsis didn't like it? The bird occasionally put up a real fuss about new things.
There were plenty of valid, and not so valid reasons NOT to go out and buy the android. So Slaine hadn't. What he had started to do, was frequent that store a lot more often. He went at least once a week, sometimes significantly more; to the point that the shop keeper had gotten tired of him loitering around, and not buying anything. But, for once, Slaine hadn't cared. Every time he went, he just thought about how lonely it must be to sit in that chair day in and day out. How sad it must be to see people come and go without even being noticed. Calm told him, quite bluntly, that he was suffering from association. Calm also said it was actually rather common with humanoid androids. His advice had been to stop going, but Slaine hadn't listened.
With the project for class, he had no reason to deny the urge any longer. The shop keeper hadn't given him a good price, but it didn't matter. He'd wanted the sad little android, and now it was his. He probably should have waited for Calm to check it out. According to him, there were a lot of fakes on the antique market, but he hadn't waited. If he was being honest, he'd been afraid of what Calm would find. He didn't want his friend to tell him to give up on this, and he certainly didn't want another reason to back down. He'd made his decision, and he'd stick to it.
As he and Calm loaded the large box into the bed of Calm's truck, Slaine didn't think he'd regret the decision, no matter what Calm said.