[ Konstantin glances from the kitchen table to the fire again, trying to gauge things for a moment. Not having any access to the creature's "thoughts" in this place makes it so much more difficult; he can only look to its behaviour to try and figure things out. The fire's growing a bit, warming his body and thus warming it, but he can still feel the thing moving around, pained and restless. Best to stick to the safe side, for now.
So he moves to sit as close to the fire as he can, body faced that way as he tilts his head over to watch Kieren. There's a soft smile of his own in response to that — he'd seen Kieren's natural state for himself, back at that party. He hadn't had a chance to say hi to him then, he'd been keeping pretty low himself, but he hadn't forgotten. It seems like a big thing, for the kid who'd referred to himself as a monster. Publicly showing up that way. ]
It's in a lot more pain, these days. I don't think it does well with Earth's atmosphere, in general. Much less this kind of environment. [ Konstantin sighs too, brushes a hand up over his face for a moment and then back through grey-flecked hair. This place is, of course, always cold, but winter's been a hell of a lot worse. ]
It hurts me, too. Moving around the way it's been. [ He winces again; it's not a pretty mental image. It's disgusting, thinking about some slimy creature squirming around in his guts. He's carried this thing for over a year now; his body's not coping well with its long-term occupant. ]
I probably shouldn't be up and around so much— had to step inside somewhere. It's a good thing you were home. [ A quiet smile, but something else lingers behind it, something slightly hesitant. It wasn't just chance that he came here. He followed that thread. He sought Kieren out. Why is it so hard to tell him that? Why is it so hard to look at the fact that on some level he's frightened to understand too much, he cares about this quiet young man with the mournful eyes more than he ever cared about his own son?
(That's exactly why. He glances back down to the few black-ish threads amongst the others. Aleksei's is pitch-dark, like a starless sky. A void. There's nothing, and Konstantin almost can't bear it.) ]
....This might sound crazy, but I knew you'd be home, actually. Do you— [ He carefully lifts a hand, one finger, the string between them drawing a little more taut. ] —Do you see these, too?
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So he moves to sit as close to the fire as he can, body faced that way as he tilts his head over to watch Kieren. There's a soft smile of his own in response to that — he'd seen Kieren's natural state for himself, back at that party. He hadn't had a chance to say hi to him then, he'd been keeping pretty low himself, but he hadn't forgotten. It seems like a big thing, for the kid who'd referred to himself as a monster. Publicly showing up that way. ]
It's in a lot more pain, these days. I don't think it does well with Earth's atmosphere, in general. Much less this kind of environment. [ Konstantin sighs too, brushes a hand up over his face for a moment and then back through grey-flecked hair. This place is, of course, always cold, but winter's been a hell of a lot worse. ]
It hurts me, too. Moving around the way it's been. [ He winces again; it's not a pretty mental image. It's disgusting, thinking about some slimy creature squirming around in his guts. He's carried this thing for over a year now; his body's not coping well with its long-term occupant. ]
I probably shouldn't be up and around so much— had to step inside somewhere. It's a good thing you were home. [ A quiet smile, but something else lingers behind it, something slightly hesitant. It wasn't just chance that he came here. He followed that thread. He sought Kieren out. Why is it so hard to tell him that? Why is it so hard to look at the fact that on some level he's frightened to understand too much, he cares about this quiet young man with the mournful eyes more than he ever cared about his own son?
(That's exactly why. He glances back down to the few black-ish threads amongst the others. Aleksei's is pitch-dark, like a starless sky. A void. There's nothing, and Konstantin almost can't bear it.) ]
....This might sound crazy, but I knew you'd be home, actually. Do you— [ He carefully lifts a hand, one finger, the string between them drawing a little more taut. ] —Do you see these, too?