I think I nailed basic human communication in this chapter, guys. *High fives the mirror*
Adventures In Awkward Bonding Times
Chapter 2: "Heart To Heart: Pro Edition"
Robin lined himself up before the row of training dummies, nothing particularly threatening about them except maybe the danger of getting a splinter. The scene was unremarkable at best, but Robin's ego was near visible in the way he began to deliberately pace in a line before those dummies.
Robin liked to use his brain when he could, but various other Shepherds sometimes brought up events where he went with the flow of a lighthearted and nonsensical moment.
Gerome tried to dodge Robin's eyes when he turned his head his way, grudgingly thankful for his childhood shortness when falling into the grass.
Still, Robin had seen him and he was prepared to dazzle. In the midst of his slow steps, he suddenly extended a foot and kicked up dust as he slid toward one of the dummies. It didn't take long for him to withdrew a lightning tome that had apparently been stuffed inside his coat and he suddenly hurled some bolts in a blinding flash.
Gerome pulled the grass farther apart to see through, eyes not even bothered by the horrific brightness. All he could do was stare as the bolts zapped the entire area around Robin and then disappeared as quick as they had been summoned. Of course Robin was like all those other mages, somehow unharmed by dangerous forces of nature as long as he was the one bringing to life from a freakin' book.
When Robin was finished with the training session and/or power display, he strolled to the tall grass and knelt in front of it to be eye to eye with Gerome.
"Are you sure you still want to try using magic?" Robin asked, seemingly unaware of the obvious reply.
Gerome simply nodded, sensing his own determination burning in his eyes.
For a moment, Robin seemed prepared to stop stalling already. He took Gerome's hand, leading him out of the grass and into the clearing. Drama needed to be preserved, so the father and son found themselves standing before the wreckage from earlier. There also may have been a random breeze pass through, provide an atmosphere for an otherwise basic scene.
"It's a common strategy for the enemy to pile on archers, healers and mages. One day, you might have to take the fight in a big field… No room for error..." Robin began to ramble, unknowingly being tuned out by Gerome.
"If I'm in danger, I can count on Mother's wyvern to help." Gerome cut in like that was just obvious. Soon enough, his impatience swelled to the point he tugged on Robin's sleeve. "Just give me one of those tomes. Let me try."
"We'll have to start with really weak magic, though."
"Yes, let's do that. I want to be able to fight someday, too."
Gerome set down the paper he had been, well, brooding over. As much as he hated to admit it, in that moment he had no desire to use any more energy in denial. Maybe he did brood a lot, and he sulked. Sometimes, when the stars lined up in specific patterns, he cursed under his breath and kicked anything in the way of his boots.
There were matters at hand infinitely more important than his problems. Even though Gerome told himself that over and over, nothing broke through. It was all Morgan's fault, however. Gerome knew he was never a catalyst for anything harmful.
Gerome did destroy the papers he received from Morgan yesterday, though. It was difficult to wrap his mind around why, but the first time Gerome exited his tent due to personal needs he found himself standing on more papers saying the exact same bull as the previous.
OH, SUCH A MYSTERY. WHO COULD IT HAVE POSSIBLY- No, Gerome didn't think it was worth applying logic to. Logic in this situation would only speed the world to its end faster. Try to be selfless.
The worst part about the papers wasn't the fact they gave away horrible, private details. When Gerome read them, his mind instantly tried to unlock the memories he did have of his parents. When he saw Robin or Cherche's face in his mind, suddenly he was a child and the both of them were alive and well doing their best to raise him in an effed up world. When Gerome thought too long, his eyes leaked from all the pressure and he contemplated connecting an axe with his brain.
Just when Gerome was ready to stand up from the tall grass he hid himself away in, his ears instantly picked up the sound of feet crunching the dirt and stones along the path to the river. His ears were good from constantly staying awake and listening to sounds of the night, true, but even he didn't know how to distinguish footsteps. All he could do was guess, and he was at least confident in who to call out.
"Go away, Morgan!"
"It's not Morgan."
Gerome felt his eyes widen, but decided he was in no way prepared to let the shock reach his body language. There was no running from this confrontation, so he readied himself by standing and resting his hands on his hips. Truly, he looked ready for hell.
After a few moments of rustling grass, none other than Robin appeared. Well, he didn't appear from the grass so much as he did stumble and nearly punch himself in the process of trying to move said grass away from his chest.
"Cherche claims that Minerva was reluctant to tell her where you were going." Robin mentioned, still trying to rub the burn out of his knuckle. "If you're going to have a brooding moment, that's okay. I just want to let you know that no one's seen you since yesterday morning, and we're concerned."
"You're only concerned because Morgan told you to be."
"Hey, that's just an assumption-"
"All of you need to understand a LOT of things. But I don't mind settling for ONE." Gerome breathed a little sharper, shoulders heaving and making him want to die. He stepped closer though, hand dangerously flicking with the rest of his words. "Understand this: all of your family connections, and love-fests… None of that matters if everyone's dead. When someone close dies, it brings the realization that all the time you spent together added to nothing. All this does is remind you how fragile and pointless people are."
Robin had been standing there, totally silent and looking beyond casual with wiping grass stains off his coat.
Seeing his imitation father give no reaction to what he believed was an effective scolding… The fact that nothing he said ever pierced these people's impossibly thick skulls… Gerome swore his blood was on fire from the sheer rage building, though he tried his best to maintain some kind of composure by looking right at Robin and forcing his hands to fall back to his sides.
That was when Robin snickered. It wasn't just a quick thing, nope, he kept going and though he clearly realized it he did not once try and cover the smile on his face either.
"There are LIMITS to a dark sense of humor." Gerome growled, all control in keeping the rage in check gone as Robin's snickers drowned out the insects of the night.
Though he'd lost control too, Robin shamelessly flicked a stray tear from the corner of his eye. He couldn't look at Gerome's face, though. Instead, he settled for looking off to side with his wide smile still obviously there.
"Gerome, I know you can't truly believe most of what you say." Robin coughed a little, hopefully trying not approaching laughter get in the way of a, well, some kind of moment. "Why don't you just talk to me?"
"What can I even say to you?! You think I'm just exaggerating myself, and you don't take life seriously! My real father wouldn't have done that, you know?! He put on a foolish act, but he had sense WHEN THE MOMENT CALLED FOR IT!"
Robin flinched away slightly, rubbing one of his ears after that monstrous volume. At least the smile was gone, though knowing him it was only a matter of time before he wore it with pride again.
Meanwhile, Gerome's temperature was painfully increasing and he had to kick his feet into the earth because he knew it was the only way to keep him still. He felt dramatically uncomfortable and even foolish to an extent, but he could easily brush that off. Yes, it was just his REAL father's traits kicking in.
"Well." Robin finally spoke after the longest minute of their lives, switching to rub the other ear. "No matter how loud you yell, it's not going to change the fact I want to make sure you're alright."
"Where is Morgan right now?"
"Ugh, it's difficult to explain." Robin's face actually showed exhaustion for a moment. "Even though I'm approaching you of my own will, Morgan still asked me to keep you busy for a while. I think it's fine; I don't mind spending more time with you if that's what she-"
"Oh! Now the truth comes out! Don't you see what's wrong with this set up? Morgan is forcing you to go along with crazy shit, and you don't care about good timing!"
"Gerome-"
"Talking to you is completely useless!"
Gerome stormed away, or at least that was his intention. All he felt was rage ready to explode at something or someone, and hurriedly spun away as fast as possible. Of course, everyone knows that bad can only ever keep spiraling until it becomes worse. Well, needless to say Naga or maybe even some other force entirely hated him and was seeking cheap "amusement" by making the right foot slam against his left ankle in that precise way… Aaaand make him trip backward into the water.
Not only was he still in the same presence as Robin, a toxic enough presence, but the plan to have at least some kind of seriousness after all that other bull was ruined by that one moment of no grace. The river wasn't deep; once Gerome sat up, only his lower half was submerged. Nevertheless, he hoped the look he gave Robin was hateful enough.
Robin approached the water's edge quickly, taking care not to fall as well. The shocked expression remained, and Gerome was grateful for that. Anything was better than that maybe-unintentional patronizing bull.
"Do you need help?"
Gerome thought he was going to break his teeth into pieces if he kept biting down on them so hard.
"I found it!" Inigo proclaimed in victory, hurriedly reeling his arm out from under the piles of clothes.
"You found lewd novels!" Morgan shouted, effectively ending their stealth mission right then and there.
"I wish." Inigo sounded almost depressed about reality, but shook it off by dragging a decorative and huge box over to Morgan. "There's this- Well, I'm not really sure what it is. Doesn't it look important?"
Morgan made some awed sounds, scooting closer and feeling up the box for some reason.
"This could be just like in that novel, Inigo. What if he's like the hero from that novel when it comes to saving mementos from childhood? This could be precisely what we need to fan the flames." And then Morgan hugged the box, sparkles jumping around in her eyes.
Of course, Inigo could have simply been getting lost in the moment. He hadn't realized he had been slumped against the pile of clothes, smiling for seemingly no reason at her. Well if anyone asked, he could always use the lack of air in the tent as an excuse for getting off topic.
"Now, we break open the bad boy."
Inigo instantly fell back to earth, even going as far as to reel in the hand he was about to make some kind of move with. As for making the move, well he just wanted to be the box Morgan had been loving on.
In any case, Morgan set the box down and rubbed her hands together excitedly. It was clear from the anxious look that she had no more than twenty plans for old-fashioned destruction flashing through her mind.
The little fire burned with determination, somehow not bothered by the surrounding fools. Gerome wished that he had the same strength, but his was extinguished the moment his face met the ground under the water. For the time being, there was nothing he could do except sit there along enough to warm up and collapse onto his cot.
As much as Gerome wanted to go right back to putting down his imitation father, he truly lost all motivation. The fall was less embarrassing, and more depressing because he really should have been able to stop himself from looking pathetic in front of someone pathetic enough to fill the world.
In the end, Gerome dropped his face into his palms and once again hated his life before looking up at Robin opposite him. By the by, Robin actually had his hand extended slightly as if about to try and comfort him but having no clue how to do so.
"Of course he wouldn't know how to comfort me."
Gerome fixed his posture, just enough to not destroy his whole image in one evening. He cleared his throat, prepared to say this eloquently if it had to be done at all.
"I'll hate myself tomorrow, but at least Robin will understand ONE thing. He will understand it genuinely this time."
When Gerome began to brush off any leaves that were sticking to his clothes, he definitely wasn't stalling or anything. He was really going to do it, you know.
"I shouldn't have to explain why your presence is irritating." Gerome began, comfortable with the calmness in his voice. Comfortable enough to actually set his gaze on Robin. "If I have to be stuck here with you, I'll pass the time however I'm allowed. I'll only give instructions once, though."
Robin didn't respond immediately because he gasped aloud, hand dramatically resting on his heart and everything. It was as if he couldn't believe that one of the army's most stoic members, the same guy who previously tried to chew him out, was actually going to play along to something Morgan obviously intended from the start.
Gerome took the opportunity to go on. "I've only just now remembered what made my father an acceptable person to be around. If I must dwell, here's where you go wrong..."
For about an entire minute, Gerome opened up the tome to look at the weird symbols and seemingly nonsensical riddles about the value of life…or some crap like that. In any case, he planted his feet on the ground and hovered his hand above the page he was instructed to. He tried his best to empty his mind, though it was still overwhelmed with the fantasy of being important like his parents. When the time was right, he tried to reach out in the darkness to conjure wind.
Nothing happened.
"Give it three times, Gerome." Cherche spoke up, tone gentle and loving. "If something doesn't work after three times, you know for sure it's not meant to be."
"Magic isn't like that." Robin instantly whined, his offended state painfully obvious. "It could take the rest of his life to know if he can use magic, but that's not always the case. Even if he has to wait, we can still-"
"I can do this!" Gerome shouted over his shoulder, unable to stop the irritation in his voice.
So Gerome did everything before in the exact same manner, although this time he was completely aware of the loud 'whispering' Robin and Cherche were doing. He couldn't try to concentrate too long, and prematurely threw out his hand to summon that stupid puff of wind.
Nothing happened.
"Will Big Brother explode if this doesn't work?" Morgan spoke up, even with her slurred speech and horrified tone it was still audible and horrible to Gerome.
"It's just magic! There must be AT LEAST one hundred people who learn how to use it every day!" Gerome growled by the end, and if anything exploded – he no longer had a temper.
Third time supposedly being the charm, Gerome did that STUPID ritual with his hand and the concentration. He mixed it up by instead of emptying his thoughts, simply force his eyes to stay closed and huff a lot as if to build up all the frustration he felt. Maybe he could send some of that into his palm, unlock his obvious magical abilities through emotion like something out of the stories Cherche told him.
Nothing happened, but this time the tome fell on the ground still open on that page. Technically-
Gerome brought his hands closer to his view, staring at the palms with the desire to burn them. He wouldn't really do that, but he just couldn't understand why he didn't have the natural talent to get this immediately. After all, Robin was really good with those more complex spells so naturally that would have to pass to his children.
Then Morgan leaped over, still full of energy as she curiously picked up the tome.
What was the result of a three year old picking up a tome and waving her hand over the pretty pictures?
A small gust of wind blew from the page and separated an already hanging limb from a nearby tree.
By the end of Gerome's explanation, he was staring right at Robin and making terrifying gestures with his hands like he had murderous intentions. He was sane.
Robin was confused, anyhow. His face was stuck somewhere around what are you even territory, and the eyebrows lifting toward his hairline worked rather well for him against the odds.
Still, Robin found the strength needed to lean forward casually and clap his hands once with realization.
"The reason you're always disgusted with me is…you think I'm too accepting of Morgan, and you're secretly jealous of her magical abilities!"
Gerome was shocked he didn't lose an entire row of teeth from clenching them so hard. This time, the rage surged to the point that he had to stand and move away from the fire. If he sat by the flames any longer, that heat and his own temperature could make him suffocate.
"I know that some people with multiple children choose which one to dote on, but it's not my intention to do that." Robin continued to ramble, blissfully unaware of his failure. "You don't need to be just like me, Gerome. There's nothing you can say or do that would make me stop caring-"
"YOU! ARE! SO! HOPELESSLY LOST!"
Robin actually cringed, and just to be sure Gerome couldn't really control those flames he pulled himself away defensively.
"I KNEW YOU WERE STUPID, BUT I HAD NO IDEA HOW FAR IT COULD GO! HOW CAN YOU CALL YOURSELF MUCH OF A PARENT IF YOU CAN'T TRANSLATE THAT SIMPLE EXAMPLE I GAVE?! I'M ALMOST HAPPY YOU'LL NEVER LIVE LONG TO HAVE CHILDREN IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE SO BLIND TO THEIR PROBLEMS!"
Robin slowly lifted his hand, silently asking for permission to speak again-
"LEAVE ME ALONE PERMANENTLY! THERE'S NO HOPE FOR THE TWO OF US GETTING CLOSER, SO GO ON WITH..." Gerome's yelling session concluded with a lengthy amount of profanity, though it was used with barely a few regular words in between so it really didn't make sense at all even to him. Of course, his mind also briefly snapped in that moment.
Gerome didn't know what came over him, not this time anyhow. All he knew was that by the end of his yelling, he was burning with rage to the point he staggered like he could pass out. Somehow, he stayed on his feet and was able to pull himself together long enough to turn and bolt from the scene even in clothes that had yet to fully dry.
What became of Robin? Gerome had no frigging idea, but he didn't really care in the slightest. All that mattered was to GO AWAY. Retreat to the only place he wouldn't be judged for his crazy performance, and maybe even sleep for a change. A good night's sleep certainly sounded appealing.
Gerome's tent had become the scene of a terrible battle with clothes and hobby-related items scattered around, the two culprits remaining in the center of the tent very disheveled and embracing in front of a broken decorative box.
That was the kind of scene that Morgan had always wanted to take place...well, anywhere that wasn't the tent of someone else. Kind of weird, those implications.
In any case, Morgan sighed happily against Inigo's shoulder and just savored the moment. It had taken crushing, hitting, throwing and biting on the box to try and get it open. See, that's where people go wrong when they don't put a keyhole on something that can basically be compared to a treasure chest on the field.
"You have no idea how much I hope the contents are worth it." Inigo spoke up, sounding like he'd just been the only witness to a miracle.
Morgan nodded, and just to try and ease any doubts still lingering she moved her lips to his and stole a kiss. Just a quick one, nothing to distract her into forgetting why she spent an entire night of her life here. It wasn't just an elaborate scheme to get inside of Inigo with no context involved, you know?
Alas, any romance that could have been involved was killed the moment the tent flaps were suddenly yanked open. Morgan and Inigo turned to face their intruder, still holding each other and making the scene look like the worst situation ever.
"You came at a good time." Morgan greeted, the slightest nervous chuckle slipping out afterward.
Gerome crouched in the entryway, the scowl apparent on his face even with just half of it in sight. Though they couldn't see his eyes, Morgan and Inigo could combine their brainpower and come to the conclusion that the father/son conversation did bring an emotion out of him. How can you make being pissed off sound intelligent? They were both in need of assistance.
"For the record!" Inigo suddenly burst out, not being hasty to separate from Morgan. "I just want to let you know that I was only in this for the sake of seeing Morgan be happy. I achieved that, so I won't be coming around here again."
"He really was considerate like that." Morgan added in, proudly.
Gerome was still heaving with disgust, or… Maybe rage? It was amazing to see him still alive, really. The heart has limits to how much stress it can take. In any case, Gerome was so overcome with negative feelings that speaking was a challenge. Or at least, that was the theory Inigo quietly decided to go along with for the sake of not wondering if he was currently experiencing his final hours after being "caught" in a compromising position.
Of course, Morgan decided to ruin any chance of anyone escaping the scene alive. She separated from Inigo, yet stretched her arm to the mysterious book that had fallen out of the box earlier. "Do you mind if we borrow this? It looks like something that could trigger good feelings, and that's exactly what I need."
Gerome inhaled for no reason, and made his way into the tent. The suspense as he crawled over to the insane couple and finally grasped one of their arms was just…perfection. Er, well take Morgan and Inigo's word for it. Sometimes the best way to know a kind of moment is to be there.
"Why do you even have to 'borrow' that piece of trash?" For someone who looked ready to paint the camp in blood, Gerome's tone was consistent and calm. "I'd feel so much better if you removed it from my life entirely. I'm sure you'd like the mission report, so here it is: you succeeded."
"There's no need to feel sorry for us." Inigo insisted, turning to Gerome just enough to show the sincere horror on his face.
"Well, we're all gonna feel silly in the morning like we always do. Am I right?" Morgan, breaking out that knowledge, stated like it was simply fact.
When Gerome had a chance, he breathed so much more deeply than needed and continued with new-found hatred of the world.
"I never want to see that piece of trash again, so please feel welcome to keep it. Whatever you do, don't let me see it back in this tent. I would rather cut out my tongue than read its contents, alright?"
"Such gruesome imagery, but I can live with it." Morgan gagged on her commentary, but didn't look ashamed.
Soon as the heartwarming conversation ended, Gerome took the fools' arms and threw them out the tent with no prior warning. They cried out exaggeratedly, but at the very least Inigo was able to gain some kind of control over his tumble out the exit. Of course, he did land face first with Morgan and their reward book crushing his back. Gerome didn't wait to see them recover, nope, he just pulled the flaps closed and began to hurriedly change out of his soaked and freezing clothes.
And so it continues on… Preferably, it all crashes and burns: keep your fingers crossed…