forum Pheasant Brook (O/O with Icarus!)

Started December 12, 2019 by @GoblinKing

tune

Connor shrugged helplessly. "Ah don't know." He admitted. "Ah just…ah don't know." He repeated. "I just meant for us ta get to know each other."

"Yeah, alright. That's fair." Wilhelm yawned, twisting his watch on his wrist. "That sounds good. Well, let's see… I know you're an artist, but what else are you interested in? Besides painting or anything, I mean."

(o gtg to bed now, idk if I'll be back)

"I like ta read." Connor replied. "Sleep. Ah'm terrible at maths." He shrugged slightly. "Wha' about yeh?"

(alright! goodnight!)

"Hm. Yeah, I like reading. Nonfiction is my favorite.. It's funny- besides that, as far as I can tell, we're basically opposites. I can't stand being asleep. If I didn't have to, I never would. My favorite subjects are maths and history. Let's see, what else.. oh! I really love woodcarving. Specifically whittling, but I'm not great. Took a piece off my fingertip last summer, see?" Wilhelm held out his right hand, where a small chunk of his pointer finger was missing.

Connor raised his eyebrows a little bit at the wound. "Ouch." he breathed, shaking his head a little bit. "But that's really cool! Maybe you can help me in maths, then. Since ah think ah migh' fail otherwise."

“I wouldn’t mind. If you help me in English, sure, I’ll help you in maths. How about that?” Wilhelm smiled slightly, inspecting his partially missing finger. “I think that sounds fair.”

"We have a deal, then." Connor replied with a bright smile. He stretched, cat-like in his movements. In reality, the Scottish boy's spirit animal probably was a cat, considering that he seemed to melt in sunlight and slept so much.

"I suppose we do." Wilhelm's soft eyes glinted in the firelight as he looked at Connor. He's unbelievably attractive, isn't he? He looked at Bonnie, who was asleep once more. "Lazy dog.. is that just something that comes with the breed? My aunt's Yorkie is the same way." Wilhelm thought for a moment, pressing his left index and middle fingers to his lips.

Connor laughed a little, looking at Bonnie. "Ah wouldn' know. Ah've never owned any sort of a pet, much less a little dog li' tha'." he started to sketch the shape of the sleeping dog, pencil marks gentle and light on the paper.

"You haven't? Huh. At home I have three.. all of them are dogs. A Russian wolfhound, and two Irish wolfhounds. Bacchus, Remus, and Romulus." Wilhelm watched Connor's pencil move, yawning.

He laughed again. "Someone seems to have an obsession with mythology names, ah see." he replied, cocking his head a little as he looked over at Wilhelm.

"Ah, well, I can't exactly deny that, can I? It's learned. My parents named all of them, you know. Visited Rome once and never went back." Wilhelm laughed, giving Connor a lopsided grin.

Connor smiled back, trying to ignore the little flutter that swarmed through his body. No, bad! Think of Jamie! "Ah've heard Rome is a lovely place. Though…p'r'aps no' now, with that dictator in charge of 't."

"Of course. We try not to travel outside of Germany much anymore, considering the Great War and all. Nobody seems to be much of a fan of us right now." Wilhelm laughed, sitting back in his seat. His voice didn't sound angry, not even upset- just filled with a kind of wry humor.

Connor nodded a little bit. "Aye. My father fought in 't. 's why he died. Lingering wound tha' turned bad. Caused an infection and sickness he could nae shake." he shrugged one shoulder.

"I'm sorry. My brother Heinrich died in the trenches, fighting on the western front. It's funny- I feel guilty about it. I was too young for the draft, but I feel like if I had gone, maybe he wouldn't have gotten hit, you know?" Wilhelm swallowed, taking a deep breath. "But you don't want to hear about that, and I don't want to talk about it." He laughed, picking at his thumbnail.

(wait…this takes place in the 1930's, right? I thought it took place in the 30's? that means that both Wilhelm and Connor would have been babies at the end of the war, nowhere near old enough for anything to do with the draft?)

Connor shrugged a little. "Don't tell me wha' ah dinnae want ta hear, Wilhelm. Ah'll listen ta just about anythin' tha' yeh want ta talk about." he replied, glancing over at Wilhelm. "Bu'…yeh do know tha' there isn't anythin' yeh could have done, except die for him? Tha's how war works. It's bloody ugly, bu' ah suppose tha' it's necessary sometimes."

(Ah, I was thinking more like the mid 1920s (1923-ish comes to mind), which would place them more like children during the draft. Wilhelm is ~18 at this time, which would make him around 9 years old when WWI first breaks out. I'm sorry that that wasn't very clear!)

"I suppose. It's like then always say- war is hell. Good people die." Wilhelm's volume dropped a bit, mumbling quietly. "Although there are times I wish it was me that died instead of him." His deep brown eyes were glassy, and his nose and cheeks were reddened. "But you're right, yeah. Yeah."

(OH okay. Idk why I thought 1930's. But that makes more sense! Thanks for the clarification)

Connor bit his lip, not sure what to say now. He wanted to comfort his roommate, but he wasn't sure how to. This wasn't exactly his forte. Not at all. "I uhm…" he rubbed the back of his neck. "When m' father died…m' ma could nae take it. No' wi'out him." his mother had…had killed herself, rather than live in a world without her husband. Connor, then only around eight years old, had lost both parents in the span of a year. "Bu'…ah dinnae know wha' ah'm tryin' ta say here. Only tha'…yeh cannae beat yersel' oop abou' 't. It was nae yer fault, and wishin' yeh were dead instead o' him does no one any good."

(no problem!)

“I understand.” Wilhelm was quiet for a bit, listening to Connor speak. “In a sense you’re right. I hear what you’re saying, and I know that you’ve got the right idea, it’s just..” He mimed plucking something out of the air. “I can’t seem to grasp the idea and make myself believe that.”

Connor nodded a little bit. "Try…maybe try thinkin' aboot everythin' yeh've done an' experienced, and…think o' 't this way: if yeh were dead, yeh would nae have experienced those things. For instance, ah would nae have ever had a roommate tha's obsessed with flowers an' plants, an' can likely name a flower from jus' one petal. An' dinnae forget those pretty eyes o' yers, which ah'm goin' ta paint someday."

"You really love my eyes, don't you? Not that that's a bad thing, of course." Wilhelm smiled, rolling his shoulders back. "But.. you're right. Indisputably, unequivocally, incontrovertibly correct." The boy traced his fingers along the seams of his chair, taking a deep breath. "If I went to the fronts, I wouldn't have felt the payoff of all my work when I got accepted here. I wouldn't've met the Scots boy whose sketches are better than most finished paintings in museums and lets me take him into the gardens to talk forever."

"Ah cannae help 't. Ah'm a fool for pretty things." Connor replied, wrinkling his nose. He nodded a little as Wilhelm continued, watching the German boy carefully. "See? An' ah'm no' goin' ta argue abou' the quality of m' work righ' now, since tha's no' the topic o' the conversation." he shrugged his shoulders slightly, hoping the darkness hid the blush that had crept over his cheeks at the compliment. "Bu' does tha' help, 't all?"

Wilhelm gave Connor a slanted smile, exhaling a bit. "It does. I'm not going to treat you like a head doctor, Connor, but you're good at it."

Connor shrugged a little, examining his hands for a moment. "I spent time at a… sanitarium, after m' parents died, so. Ah should hope ah know a bit about what ah'm talkin' about." He shrugged again, shaking his head for a moment. "Trauma does wonders for th' brain." He said.