Yeah, I know it's a stupid idea.  I like it.  Leave me alone.  ^^  Eheh.  Yes.  Did I mention these are RP-versions of the characters?  ::Anticipates having rotting veggies thrown at her.  Hides.::

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Life on the ship was strange, and even after this long, he wasn't used to it... though he knew, of course, it hadn't been as long as it seemed.  If he tried to grasp at the memories, and examine them, he found them blurry and indistinct... but he could forget, if he accepted them.  He could let his mind slip away from voices in darkness (or had it been in absolute light?  Where did the difference lay, anyway?) and promises.  And that made the task at hand easier. 

Rowan stopped him as he wandered down a corridor, inquiring about the fate of a stack of reports he'd been responsible for.  By now, he was unsurprised to find himself answering- just as he'd been unsurprised to find himself writing the things.  You'll know what you need.  He didn't always understand it, but he managed somehow to do his fair share of work on board.  He was oblivious as to how that came to be, but very glad.  Granted, they probably could have arranged it so he'd be free to loaf... but he would have come to hate that.  At least now, he always managed to do what was needed of him, somehow without exceeding his abilities.  It was like he'd been trained without his knowledge... peculiar, but not disagreeable.  He was even beginning to understand, to some degree- perhaps, if he stayed long enough, he'd be able to do it all on his own, without whatever internal source of knowledge he'd been granted.  Some sort of strange grace period.  God knew, he didn't understand.  The paperwork dealt with, he continued down towards the bridge, raising a hand to cover a yawn.  How he could feel so relaxed, though... He forgot and remembered at the same time.  The things he'd known once were veiled, like memories from another life- they were, in more than one sense.  As much as he'd remained the same, the circumstances made a different man.  Would they even know him, if they saw him now?

"Nicholas!"  The young voice from behind him, as ever, managed to solicit a smile from the once-priest.  Wisely, he braced himself as a blur of light blue hit him full speed.  A lesser man would have ended up on the ground; Wolfwood, of all people, was used to being tackled by children.  But even he was jarred.  The boys were a bit stronger than they looked, and if you weren't expecting it...

"Watch it!"  he mock-scolded, grinning still, twisting to better view the boy who'd attached himself to his waist, at the same time trying to disentangle the limbs.  He met those eyes- familiarly shaded, but clearer, untouched by years and betrayals- without the pang of regret they'd given him for so long.  Seeing and remembering what was to come... or, rather, what had happened... for a long time (he thought,) it had been nearly impossible to meet the utter innocence in those eyes, when he remembered who he had been...

Trying to avoid the discomfort that always came from piercing the illusion so thoroughly, he glanced up, cool grayed-blue hues meeting the other innocent gaze.  Oddly enough, this had never bothered him...  Perhaps because the innocence he perceived here was something he'd never had a chance to see, back then...  Or perhaps it was the lack of familiarity with Knives, either boy or grown man, that allowed him to see what was 'really' here- a reserved child, quieter than the darker-haired brother, who was (as far as Wolfwood could see) more inclined to brood, and less likely to talk to anyone about what troubled him. 

"What's done is done... I thought things were set in stone."

He managed to smile at Knives, tearing himself away from his thoughts.

"So... If it can't be changed, then...?"

All you can change is yourself.