[open] there's a patch of snow on the ground

[5055034455]

Date & Time: December 9-12, various times
Location: Around Winter Wonderland Exsilium; options within!
Characters: Saul & YOU!!!
Summary: A defense attorney adapts to his new environment.
Warnings: Stupidity and probably also feelings, but nothing out of the ordinary. Will update if needed.

[OPTION A, out & about —

Saul spends the bulk of his first two days planetside getting familiar with the new landscape as best he can. This involves a lot of walking and a lot of talking to people who seem entirely too suspicious of him; he can't blame them, of course, so he tries to look as non-threatening as possible.

For him, this is not difficult.

The information he gathers from those who give him the time of day is scarce, but it's better than nothing — and it leads him to the important conclusion that re-establishing the Department under the New Initiative is, perhaps, not the wisest decision right now. A lot of things are up in the air; with timeline-changing missions still in the works, he wonders whether or not it's worth the trouble.

...and then there's the little problem of so many of them still being on the moon...

He winds up dedicating a lot of his time to hanging around the building housing the Transport Pad. Mostly, he wants to keep an eye out for anyone he might know who hasn't yet decided to make the trip down (and spend some time checking in on the people who have via text), but part of his reason for being there so often is that it's warm and convenient and feels a hell of a lot safer than traveling by sled team or on foot in yeti territory.]

*

[OPTION B, along the river Thames —

All things considered, the moon is still worse.

"All things" being the relentless cold, the seemingly bottomless snow, and the angry walrus charging after him on the frozen Thames.

Fun fact: Walruses can move as quickly as a man can run. So it's a good thing Saul's on ice skates, but even that isn't enough to make him feel any better about the fact that he somehow managed to piss off a two thousand-pound tusked beast and now it's out for his blood.

But Saul! you say. What about your stupid anime powers? Surely you could take this creature down!

To which he would say, Screw you, the last thing I need to do is freak out the locals.

Not that anyone's impressed by his current display as he races down the ice, but. Details.]

*

[OPTION C, for his family apartment-mates —

It's weird.

Saul's thought of this place as home for a while; he's pretty sure he started using that word when his relationship with Jesse solidified and things were, for the most part, okay. And then Steph came along and it felt more real, and then they found their way to the moon and to each other and ever since then, he's known that this is where he needs to be.

But something about living in an apartment with her and Ahiru and Dick is just —

It's weird. He doesn't really think of Ahiru the way he'd think of, say, a daughter, but he knows he has a tendency to treat her that way. And when it's just the two of them, it's fine, but when Steph's around, it's different. Awkward, almost. It's nothing Steph can't defuse with a bit of playful joking, though.

But then there's Dick, who he's pretty sure hates him.

That's less weird; Dick has a perfectly valid reason and Saul hasn't tried to convince him otherwise just yet, mostly because neither of them have crossed paths at a convenient moment.

Saul finds himself home alone often, keeping the place tidy and monitoring the network and thinking. Planning. Pacing.

He needs a job, but this is the deal for now: he cleans, he cooks. He tries not to let himself get too comfortable in this new setting of theirs, because he knows better. It's difficult, though.

And weird.

Don't forget weird.]

Comments

[pixieboots]

[ He's pretty sure being caught staring makes him the weird one right now, so he shrinks back away from the door as if that wasn't what he was just doing. ] No. I'm okay.

[ It's not true. He's more than hungry, he doesn't eat when he's out because it wouldn't be right to spend money on himself when it could go so much farther on something for everyone. Even when it is his.

But he can wait. Saul has to go away sometime, doesn't he? ]

Thanks, though. [ He can be not rude he forces it. ]

[5055034455]

[Yeah, Saul doesn't believe that.

He leans against the wall in the hallway like he has all day — because he does — and glances toward the crack in the door, one eyebrow arched.]

Oh, c'mon. You must be hungry — you slept right through breakfast.

[Saul's never denied that he's a manipulator, but then again, few have ever accused him of it; he has such a talent for pulling strings that people — the people he's used to working with, at least — tend to not notice. It's not that he's putting Dick in the same category as strung-out drug addicts, but he is a kid, and Saul is Saul, and if this is what he has to do to get Dick out of his room and believing that Saul's not suspicious of his behavior at all, then so be it.]

[pixieboots]

No I didn't... [ And right there he's feeling needled even though it's dumb and irrational. He doesn't sleep the way he used to, he hasn't slept at all in what feels like days. But working that angle of dissent too hard will just open up that space for more questions. He huffs out a sigh and leans against the wall beside the door. ]

If you want me to take out the trash just say so, okay? I'm not gonna free load.

[5055034455]

[Up goes one eyebrow.]

In what part of that statement did I accuse you of being a freeloader?

[Saul is a lawyer, Dick.

Do you really want to do this?

DO YOU FEEL LUCKY, PUNK?]

[pixieboots]

You didn't... [ Except somehow now he's losing this argument already. ]

Fine. I'm taking the trash out. [ It'll give him another excuse to go out. He grabs for his jacket and tugs it back on, pulling his hood down as far as he can. He opens the door and tries to brush right past Saul without sparing him a glance. ]

Just ask, next time.

[5055034455]

Hey, if you're so intent on taking the trash out, I'm not gonna stop you. But I will point out that this has absolutely nothing to do with taking out the trash, nor does said trash need to be taken out at this current point in time.

[So he can brush past Saul if he likes, but...]

I just want you to eat something.

[pixieboots]

[ It catches him by surprise, only now that he's stopped to turn that statement over in his head he's out of his room and stranded there.

Well, shoot. ] ...Why do you care?

[ There's more genuine uncertainty in his voice than venom. ]

[5055034455]

[Well.

He should be honest, right?

Saul shrugs a shoulder.]

You haven't given me any reason not to.

[pixieboots]

Was it her idea?

[ He keeps his arms folded, stance braced like he's half-expecting to be hit. ]

It was her idea, wasn't it?

[5055034455]

It wasn't her idea.

[He's careful to keep his expression neutral; no, this wasn't Steph's idea. Saul might be motivated by the fact that he knows his strained relationship with Dick is causing Steph more unneeded stress, but this wasn't her idea.]

[pixieboots]

Ookay... [ He draws the word out, at least partially because it buys him a little more time to process that.

He's either lying or he has another agenda entirely. ]

...So then whose idea is it?

[5055034455]

[Flatly:] A bright light came to me last night. It spoke a language unlike one I'd ever heard before — not of this world, maybe, or any other —

[Dick, what have you done.]

And it told me, while gently touching my cheek —

[As Saul gently touches his own cheek:] Saul, you know what you must do.

And I said, are you an angel?

And it said, what I am does not matter, my child.

And I said, it kind of does, because you just broke into my bedroom —

And then it delivered its message, clear and strong: Saul, stop being an asshole.

[He then drops his arm back to his side and shrugs, as if this is a completely legitimate explanation for whose idea it was.]

[pixieboots]

[ Saul's making fun of him, he's pretty sure. And that means he probably should be mad; he should feel embarrassed or cowed or even just put off, right now. By him, by everything about being here.

Instead he settles on a grin, once he's cycled through open-mouthed silence and a weird sense of grudging admiration. It's small and a little sheepish, but it's there. ]

So that’s where the breeze came from. [ If angels are leaving their windows open. ]

Okay, you got me.

[5055034455]

[...oh.

That worked?

Huh. Small miracles. Saul's quick to grin, gesturing toward the kitchen.]

Then let's get your got self some food.