Clive felt a bit guilty for not simply announcing the future's brightness. But it felt like lying to do so. He'd been thinking of it, lately. Of how they were changing the world with no real guarantee set in stone to make sure the future would be brighter for everyone. It was likely to be harder, in the short term at least. The basis of the world's entire economy and being would be changing. People were bound to be lost in the shuffle, and Clive already worried for them. He believed in what they were doing - but he feared how high the cost would be, too. "I'd rather not be," he said quietly.
But he smiled at Joshua and slung his arm over his brother's slimmer shoulders, guiding him toward Clive's room. "You would definitely dislike me telling you where to be all the time," he said. "You're too used to the nomad life you've had these last years to do well with your shield telling you to stay attached to his side. But it'd make for a nice few weeks before you grew tired of it."
He let go of Joshua once they were inside, motioning toward the table for Joshua to sit as Clive went to begin pulling off armor and setting it in its place. When he was in shirtsleeves, he sighed in relief, rolling tired shoulders. He was used to armor, and wore it comfortably enough - but sometimes it was nice to feel light - in heart and in body.
He came to sit opposite Joshua at the table, ankle pressed against his. He had his eyes to see, but some part of Clive just wanted the physical sensation of touch, to know for sure his brother was there, and whole - or nearly so. "Must we wait until the end for the wine?" he complained good-naturedly, reaching for the stack of missives and unsealing the first to read. "I'm never quite sure what to do with a grateful note from Blackthorne. It feels like a trap," Clive said dryly as he read over Blackthorne's note.
no worries, they had me too.
But he smiled at Joshua and slung his arm over his brother's slimmer shoulders, guiding him toward Clive's room. "You would definitely dislike me telling you where to be all the time," he said. "You're too used to the nomad life you've had these last years to do well with your shield telling you to stay attached to his side. But it'd make for a nice few weeks before you grew tired of it."
He let go of Joshua once they were inside, motioning toward the table for Joshua to sit as Clive went to begin pulling off armor and setting it in its place. When he was in shirtsleeves, he sighed in relief, rolling tired shoulders. He was used to armor, and wore it comfortably enough - but sometimes it was nice to feel light - in heart and in body.
He came to sit opposite Joshua at the table, ankle pressed against his. He had his eyes to see, but some part of Clive just wanted the physical sensation of touch, to know for sure his brother was there, and whole - or nearly so. "Must we wait until the end for the wine?" he complained good-naturedly, reaching for the stack of missives and unsealing the first to read. "I'm never quite sure what to do with a grateful note from Blackthorne. It feels like a trap," Clive said dryly as he read over Blackthorne's note.