songerein | [Closed] Settling In

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[Closed] Settling In

Who: Gabriel and Adrien Agreste
When: Early this month
Where: Their new house, then likely later out and about
What: Agreste awkwardness. Agreste awkwardness everywhere. Also errands.
Warnings: Likely also some Agreste angst, given the nature their situation.

All in all it hadn't taken them too long to find a house both he and Adrien could agree on. While a far cry from the Agreste mansion in either of their worlds, they both agreed that it was likely the better for the differences. And far more practical, given that they'd have to maintain it largely on their own, at least for the present. A modest, two story house with the kitchen and living area on the ground floor, and the bathroom and two bedrooms upstairs. Technically, there were three bedrooms, but one was rather smaller than the other two, and Gabriel was gradually setting it up as an office and workroom. It was surrounded by a small, fenced in yard, what would be a few small flowerbeds come Spring, and tree that neither of them could immediately identify- given that it was currently bare of leaves- in one corner. All in all it was rather charming.

That didn't make the living situation any less awkward, however. Of course they'd both likely somewhat expected it to be. They got along reasonably well most of the time, but things were distant at best, despite the much closer quarters. While this was also somewhat to be expected under the circumstances, it wasn't a state of affairs that Gabriel wished to have continue. But how to break the metaphorical ice in a way that wouldn't seem like he was intruding, or trying to step into a place that- whatever his feelings about the version of himself Adrien had called father- was not his to take? After discussing the matter with Nooroo, he'd finally come to a decision, settling on a course of action that he felt would likely be relatively stress free for both of them- or at least he hoped so- and one that Adrien could easily refuse if he didn't feel he was ready.

Even so he found himself hesitating outside the closed door to Adrien's bedroom. Why on Earth did simply knocking on a door feel so daunting? He glanced back at the door to his own bedroom; Nooroo hovered there, giving him an encouraging smile and a 'go ahead' gesture before popping back through the closed door and out of sight. Buoyed by his little partner's support, Gabriel took a deep breath and knocked.

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Gabriel checked it over making sure everything was accurate. "Hmm... your handwriting is better than mine was at your age," he commented absently. Another moment of examining it, he nodded his satisfaction. "Now we just need to hope that the managers of the shops we visit will allow us to post them."

"Not like I had much choice in the matter," he muttered in response to the compliment, then winced. He opened his mouth to appologize, tripped on his tongue, stumbling over the weirdness of his dad but not his dad. This was really getting confusing, and being together longer wasn't making it easier like he thought that it would. Mostly just more awkward.

"Yeah, we can ask," he said, wanting to stress the last word, but not quite daring to after his last gaff.

Gabriel gave him an understanding look; he knew this whole business was rather awkward. "I wasn't really able to practice things like handwriting extensively until I was in college," he said. "My own parents were rather... traditional, and didn't think that things like sewing, fashion, and aesthetics were appropriate interests for a young man." He wondered if the same was true for the version of himself who'd been Adrien's father. No way to know, really.

He nodded his agreement that they could ask and gathered up the copied advertisements into a neat stack. "Let's get our coats and head out then."

He gave him such a weird look at that. "But... You... I mean my father always raised me that proper handwriting was proof of respect to the person who had to read what you wrote..."

"Hmm yes," he said as he moved to retrieve his coat from its hook. "While I can't speak for what your father or his parents thought, mine were never especially interested in my willingness to respect others. More in putting me in a position where other would be forced to respect me."

"My father wanted me to become an engineer, like himself; my mother, meanwhile, wanted me to go into finance. Other than it being reasonably legible for school assignments and such, neither of them especially care what my handwriting looked like. In their minds I had far more important things to focus on, though they seldom agreed on what those things should be on any given day."

He felt a shiver at that respect me. It hit way too close to home and for the end of that sentence, he sounded so much like Adrien's version of him that the boy found himself cringing back.

He tried to put himself back together before the other universe Gabriel could turn around with his coat.

"I never much had a choice in what I'd be," he said flatly, shoving down the terror as hard as he could, trying to hide it. Sadly that meant he couldn't quite control the bitterness. "Even when I thought I finally did, it was an illusion. I was the same thing I'd always been." A puppet.

He almost flinched at the feeling but managed to refrain. There was really no outward reason for it, and he couldn't let on about his ability to sense emotions. But what sort of man had his other self been that a reminder of him struck that much fear into his son? He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"It can be difficult, finding your own path in life," he said after a moment. "Especially when those who should support you in doing so hinder you instead. But you're an intelligent and capable young man; I'm sure you'll be able to accomplish anything you put your mind to, given time."

"I have that chance now, maybe. But I don't know where to even begin, what I should even want," he admitted, fiddling with the doubled rings he wore on one finger.

And that was part of the problem. He really didn't know what he wanted. Other than freedom and time with his friends. He know what he didn't want to be, but that only eliminated a small group of professions.

He smiled slightly. "It's perfectly alright to feel that way, especially at your age," he said. "I know it likely doesn't seem that way to you, but you have plenty of time to figure things out. And other than avoiding any particularly dangerous or destructive hobbies, for obvious reasons, there's nothing in particular you 'should' or 'shouldn't' be considering. The only thing you can really do is to try various things and see if you find something that you're passionate about."

"The school seems to think we should know what we want. And most of my friends do..." Until he got here he wasn't sure about some of them, but having met a unicorn now, maybe he needed to give Rose more credit for knowing what was what."

At least this was more conversational, less bitter. More his usual public facing self.

"And it's wonderful that many of them have dreams and the chance to pursue them," he said. "But their dreams and plans now may not be the same as they are twenty, ten, or even five years from now. People and their interests can and do change over time, and some people change careers more than once over the course of their life. I doubt that anyone, myself included, has ever had their entire life planned out at fourteen, even if they think they do."

"If I don't start soon, I'll fall behind though," he pointed out.

You're an Agreste. Agrestes lead, we never fall behind. He forced down the memory and the emotions that came with it.

He paused in putting on his coat, looking mildly puzzled. "'Fall behind' at what?", he said. "Life isn't a race to see who gets to certain milestones first. You'll likely be much better off in the long run if you take your time and explore your options than you would if you rush to commit to something just so you can say you have something to commit to."

"At succeeding," he said, as though that was obvious.

"Again, it's not a race," he said, finishing putting on his coat. "There's no specific timeframe for 'success', whatever one's definition of it may be. I've found that it's far better to take one's time when making important decisions when possible."

He finally came to get his own coat. "I haven't gotten to make a lot of important decisions. Taking my time or otherwise."

"Well, perhaps you'll have the chance to practice a bit here, then," he said. "In Reverin in general, that is, not necessarily on this outing in particular. It's unlikely that any particularly pressing decisions will come up while running errands."

"If this place is really a dream, not sure there is any decision I could make that would matter. It would be like practicing fencing with foam foils."

"While it's true that any decisions you make here are unlikely to have much effect on your own world, they could still very much affect your life here in Reverin," he pointed out. "And even if it's technically a dreamworld, it's certainly real enough while we're in it."

"But the choices don't really matter here either... I mean, why prepare for a future or choose a career when I'm going to wake up at some point soon and loose everything I worked for?" he asked, cautiously testing the waters.

"Choices always matter, I've found," he said. "And while it's unlikely you'll have need of a career here in Reverin, it is essentially an entirely new world to navigate. A situation like that is practically designed to challenge one's critical thinking and decision-making skills, and while some of those decisions will be relatively mundane, I suspect that there'll just as many might lead to new interests or friendships that you didn't expect. And though we may not remember specifics upon waking up, it's entirely possible that certain interests or ideas might carry over; it would hardly be the first time someone found inspiration in a dream, after all."

"Maybe artists do, but the only things that tend to follow me out of dreams are nightmares." He fought it, but a hint of accusation escaped into his voice. And he tried to cram the lid down on his feelings to not feel the pain, the hurt, the betrayl...

He had the good graces to look somewhat chastened, even if the accusation wasn't really meant for him, per se. The more he learned of his other self, the less he thought of him. Yet had he truly been so different once upon a time? Given the scant details he had, there was no way to be sure.

"Then perhaps... this can be a chance to begin building a new dream," he said gently. "Given where we are, I doubt that either of us will ever have a better opportunity. Nor a better place from which to begin. Strangeness aside, Reverin is a peaceful place, and its people warm and welcoming. It... gives me hope." His tone suggested that 'hope' was something that was normally in short supply for him.

"How can there be hope somewhere we're trapped away from the people who love and count on us?" So much guilt there. And pain.

He flinched slightly at that, because he understood all too well where Adrien was coming from. And yet... "Because the people here are, in general, kind to one another," he said after a moment. "They help each other, working together to make this community a better place. In my world, that's very much not the case. My world is under the control of a being called The Supreme, who rules it with an iron fist. Any form of mutual aid is a crime. People live in fear of The Supreme's power, and most have given up hope that life could be any other way."

"But here... it's different. And beautiful. That a place like this exists, even in a dream... It gives me hope that my son might one day know a better world than I have, however foolish a hope that might be."

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