This is where he'd groan and flop back down on the bed if he were dealing with one of the members of his retinue, always one to mope and dwell in privacy. But Markus? It feels worse to deny him when he's doing something that is admittedly good for him, so Noctis reluctantly forces himself to stand. ]
... I'm not melancholic. I'm fine normally, I just haven't brought that part up a lot. [ Since it happened, since his father was murdered. Maybe that's the problem. ]
[Markus could argue the point — knowing what words to apply when one finds themselves too lost in their own head — but he won’t. Sees no need, not when Noctis is willing to have this conversation with him.
So just a-] I understand. [-as he guides them out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the living area. Markus doesn’t need to tell him that he can sit wherever he likes, and the android settles at one end of the couch.]
It isn’t exactly a topic that comes up in everyday conversation. But it’s good to not leave these kind of thoughts lingering for too long.
[ He busies himself on the short walk with fussing at his hair, pinching at a lock here or there to smooth them down. A vain habit, and, on some occasions, a nervous one. When Noctis is given the option of choosing a spot to sit, however, he chooses to perch on the opposite end of that couch on its arm, bare feet planting on the cushion so he can face him.
It's not the back of a car but he'll treat it like one. ]
"Lingering"... [ It's a bit of a scoff; that's hard to hold back completely. ] That makes it sound like talking about it makes that stuff go away.
[Knowing the pain of loss, especially of loss sudden and unexpected, Markus doesn’t expect it to ever fade. Only for its edges, someday, to be dulled with the slow crawl of time.
He would hope so, at least, for his own sake, too.
The ghost of a scoff is barely given a second thought.]
But it can help, sharing memories with someone else.
[ Noctis chews on the words while he sits there, another deep breath into his lungs meant to give him courage but the exhalation just makes him feel empty. ]
... things could get pretty rough with us sometimes, but even when I was mad I knew he was trying to do the best for us. It's really annoying trying to argue with somebody like that. I guess... it's hard, being a subject and a son at the same time. Couldn't have been easier being a king and a dad.
[He can’t hope to have a frame of reference, of course, though he knows the sense of duty can be so strong that it overrides much else. A king’s obligation to his people, versus a father’s obligation to his son. Markus wonders at the balancing act both sides of a person might require.
And thus prompting the question:] Were you often able to draw a line between the two? To enjoy time together as just… father and son?
[ The question makes his lips quirk like he wants to smile and yet... he doesn't. About so much else his feelings are too fucking complicated, always a repressed swirl that he hides behind a falsely aloof demeanor so he can keep his head above water but this? Just makes him feel unavoidably sad. ]
You know... When I was younger I'd go with him a lot whenever he had something to do, just so we could talk in the car. It ended up being my favorite place.
... it's not like it was his fault. Being busy. I always knew that and I never wanted to be an asshole about it, but when I got older I kept pulling away anyway. Like a-- fuck, I dunno.
[He leans forward a little, elbows pressed against his knees as if tugged in by an invisible wire, attentions hooked on what can only be read as Noctis’ melancholy. The line of his brow creases slightly, and his reply isn’t immediate.
His own experience with Carl was not “normal”, as applied to the usual relationship between father and son: an android gifted to an elderly man, and a connection that would grow from there. Thus he doesn’t want to sound presumptuous, to know exactly what the dynamic between Noctis’ and his own father was like, much less be able to know what it’s like to be royalty on top of everything.]
I don’t think that’s unusual. [He offers, unsure how helpful it is, but wanting to complete his thought regardless—] Busy or not, he was still your father. Of course you’d still want to spend time with him, even if you understood why that time was limited.
[Noctis is marred by the fallacies of youth (maybe Markus is, too), but he knows the young man to be perceptive, intelligent, and good-natured. Not wanting to encroach upon responsibilities of a king, how else could he act?]
Mm... Yeah, I guess. I did a lot of dumb stuff back then for attention anyway, though. [ Rebelled, sneaked out whenever he could, drew on old paintings, acted out towards Gladio and some of his other attendants... Occasionally his father would scold him, too often he'd be too busy and would simply ignore him instead. ]
Honestly? I don't really regret any of that. Later...
I should've been around more. I asked him if I could move out on my own and he said yes, but I still could've stopped by more. [ He glances up, then, clearly hitting a wall with his own awkwardness with the subject. ]
Do you... you know. Wanna' talk about Carl some more?
[Regrets are the most painful consequences of memory. Markus knows how cleanly they cut, and how easy it is to apply them to the past, unearthing all the what ifs. What if I had been better, what if I had made different decisions. And in Noctis’ case, what if he had spent more time with his father — would the loss be more bearable?
And that, he knows, is the inherent issue. It wouldn’t be.
Yet the android almost feels like a hypocrite when he says—] You can’t do that to yourself, Noctis. You can’t punish yourself for not having the foresight to expect tragedy that no one should ever have to consider.
[Letting that settle, Markus won’t push the subject further unless Noctis decides to pick up this thread of the conversation himself. Instead, the young man mentions Carl, and Markus only nods.]
... yeah. I can. [ And isn't that just the salt in the wound? It's kept him awake more than one night here even if he doesn't want to fully rest his finger on the reasoning behind it. Sure, he shouldn't blame himself for being unable to predict the attack; that much even he can admit to readily now that he's had the time to process it. But... ]
I knew he was dying, before that. As my old man... it was hard. [ With the unsaid words hanging obviously between them. As a king it was hard in a different way -- Regis's death meant Noctis's ascension, in addition to the pain of losing his last known family member. ]
What made you the happiest with him? Thinking about that stuff's what makes it easier for me, even if it takes a while for it to set in.
[And hearing that, it’s made even more apparent how heavy that guilt must be; yet it makes sense, in its own way. An ailing loved one is a difficult subject , and Noctis simply not wanting to face it as reality is perhaps a more common coping mechanism than he might believe.
Yet it’s a subject they can loop back around to. Noctis wants to hear about Carl, and Markus has to steady his own thoughts as he lets a moment hang between them, deciding on a suitable answer.
It’s hard. He can think of more than one moment, made clearer by the poignancy of hindsight.]
Happiest… I think, were the quiet moments. He was already weak, and some days were better than others — but the good ones, where he could spend all day in his studio and I could just watch his thought process unfold with each creative decision he made… I think those were my favorite.
[…]
You know, it hasn’t even been that long. Since things changed for me, I mean. But it’s funny how it feels like it was a lifetime ago. Like I was a different person, then.
[ Noctis is entirely silent as Markus speaks, brow knitting at the word "weak" but then he supplies the gentler follow-up. There's emotion in his voice, wholly human, subtle and unaffected but that's what sticks out to Noctis and that's what makes him want to smile, even if it tightens his chest.
His hand braces against the back of that couch as he finally slides forward onto one of the cushions as if he plans to reach out to him, moving closer--
--but he halts, out of his element and wondering if he's pushing too far. ]
... you sound really proud of him. We've both got a lot to live up to... so maybe that's why it feels like a long time ago. Because you're already starting to change to do that.
[Even if Carl is no longer present in his life, he still is, in a way. Helping Markus become the kind of person to be proud of, alive in the choices he makes everyday. He can't imagine those years without him; doesn't want to. Keeps those memories held tightly against him, even if it means that grief hasn't had a chance to dissolve.
And for Markus, that's fine, in the end.
Noctis’ forestalled gesture is too obvious to not be noted. It falls into the trap of awkwardness, half-completed, but Markus takes the reins instead, not so affected by that brand of self-consciousness. It’s easy enough to scoot slightly closer, to place a gentle yet affirming hand on the young man’s shoulder.
Commiseration, he had once told him. Maybe this is it. ]
And do you feel the same way? That you've begun to change, too?
[ That hand drops onto a shoulder that immediately hitches under its weight, having to take a moment to consciously force himself to relax. It takes all of the willpower he has to then return the gesture with a touch of his own to signal to Markus that he's comfortable with this and that it's meaningful to him. It's the least he can do... or would be, if the part of Markus at this angle most readily available weren't his leg, and Noctis bounces his hand in an awkward pat and speedy retreat after placing it on his thigh.
Wow. That was the worst. ]
Uh... I dunno, yet. I think in some ways, but it's hard to know how much of that is me doing what I want to do and growing to make better choices, or... just doing what I have to do. I've barely had time to stop and think.
[Well, he tries. Awkward as it might be, Noctis' intent is still noted, even if its follow-through was only half realized. But it's fine. Markus takes awkward moments and rights them on their feet, pushing forward and past them without any outward judgment.
He drops his hand, settling it back on his lap.]
I know exactly what that's like.
[They run so parallel with each other, facing similar trials across completely different worlds and circumstances, that Markus is almost sorry for it.]
But maybe they're sometimes one and the same. Maybe some people aren't given the luxury of differentiating the two. [A beat.] Besides, even though this world provides some leeway to 'stop and think', it hardly ever feels that way.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Pretty sure it's not gonna' get easier to say.
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Then let’s sit in the living room for a while. I know you’re still recovering, but being alone with your thoughts for too long will just leave you…
[A pause for the right word that isn’t just “depressed”.]
…melancholic.
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This is where he'd groan and flop back down on the bed if he were dealing with one of the members of his retinue, always one to mope and dwell in privacy. But Markus? It feels worse to deny him when he's doing something that is admittedly good for him, so Noctis reluctantly forces himself to stand. ]
... I'm not melancholic. I'm fine normally, I just haven't brought that part up a lot. [ Since it happened, since his father was murdered. Maybe that's the problem. ]
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So just a-] I understand. [-as he guides them out of the room, down the short hallway, and into the living area. Markus doesn’t need to tell him that he can sit wherever he likes, and the android settles at one end of the couch.]
It isn’t exactly a topic that comes up in everyday conversation. But it’s good to not leave these kind of thoughts lingering for too long.
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It's not the back of a car but he'll treat it like one. ]
"Lingering"... [ It's a bit of a scoff; that's hard to hold back completely. ] That makes it sound like talking about it makes that stuff go away.
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[Knowing the pain of loss, especially of loss sudden and unexpected, Markus doesn’t expect it to ever fade. Only for its edges, someday, to be dulled with the slow crawl of time.
He would hope so, at least, for his own sake, too.
The ghost of a scoff is barely given a second thought.]
But it can help, sharing memories with someone else.
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... things could get pretty rough with us sometimes, but even when I was mad I knew he was trying to do the best for us. It's really annoying trying to argue with somebody like that. I guess... it's hard, being a subject and a son at the same time. Couldn't have been easier being a king and a dad.
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[He can’t hope to have a frame of reference, of course, though he knows the sense of duty can be so strong that it overrides much else. A king’s obligation to his people, versus a father’s obligation to his son. Markus wonders at the balancing act both sides of a person might require.
And thus prompting the question:] Were you often able to draw a line between the two? To enjoy time together as just… father and son?
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[ The question makes his lips quirk like he wants to smile and yet... he doesn't. About so much else his feelings are too fucking complicated, always a repressed swirl that he hides behind a falsely aloof demeanor so he can keep his head above water but this? Just makes him feel unavoidably sad. ]
You know... When I was younger I'd go with him a lot whenever he had something to do, just so we could talk in the car. It ended up being my favorite place.
... it's not like it was his fault. Being busy. I always knew that and I never wanted to be an asshole about it, but when I got older I kept pulling away anyway. Like a-- fuck, I dunno.
no subject
His own experience with Carl was not “normal”, as applied to the usual relationship between father and son: an android gifted to an elderly man, and a connection that would grow from there. Thus he doesn’t want to sound presumptuous, to know exactly what the dynamic between Noctis’ and his own father was like, much less be able to know what it’s like to be royalty on top of everything.]
I don’t think that’s unusual. [He offers, unsure how helpful it is, but wanting to complete his thought regardless—] Busy or not, he was still your father. Of course you’d still want to spend time with him, even if you understood why that time was limited.
[Noctis is marred by the fallacies of youth (maybe Markus is, too), but he knows the young man to be perceptive, intelligent, and good-natured. Not wanting to encroach upon responsibilities of a king, how else could he act?]
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Honestly? I don't really regret any of that. Later...
I should've been around more. I asked him if I could move out on my own and he said yes, but I still could've stopped by more. [ He glances up, then, clearly hitting a wall with his own awkwardness with the subject. ]
Do you... you know. Wanna' talk about Carl some more?
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And that, he knows, is the inherent issue. It wouldn’t be.
Yet the android almost feels like a hypocrite when he says—] You can’t do that to yourself, Noctis. You can’t punish yourself for not having the foresight to expect tragedy that no one should ever have to consider.
[Letting that settle, Markus won’t push the subject further unless Noctis decides to pick up this thread of the conversation himself. Instead, the young man mentions Carl, and Markus only nods.]
What kind of questions did you want to ask?
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I knew he was dying, before that. As my old man... it was hard. [ With the unsaid words hanging obviously between them. As a king it was hard in a different way -- Regis's death meant Noctis's ascension, in addition to the pain of losing his last known family member. ]
What made you the happiest with him? Thinking about that stuff's what makes it easier for me, even if it takes a while for it to set in.
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Yet it’s a subject they can loop back around to. Noctis wants to hear about Carl, and Markus has to steady his own thoughts as he lets a moment hang between them, deciding on a suitable answer.
It’s hard. He can think of more than one moment, made clearer by the poignancy of hindsight.]
Happiest… I think, were the quiet moments. He was already weak, and some days were better than others — but the good ones, where he could spend all day in his studio and I could just watch his thought process unfold with each creative decision he made… I think those were my favorite.
[…]
You know, it hasn’t even been that long. Since things changed for me, I mean. But it’s funny how it feels like it was a lifetime ago. Like I was a different person, then.
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His hand braces against the back of that couch as he finally slides forward onto one of the cushions as if he plans to reach out to him, moving closer--
--but he halts, out of his element and wondering if he's pushing too far. ]
... you sound really proud of him. We've both got a lot to live up to... so maybe that's why it feels like a long time ago. Because you're already starting to change to do that.
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[Even if Carl is no longer present in his life, he still is, in a way. Helping Markus become the kind of person to be proud of, alive in the choices he makes everyday. He can't imagine those years without him; doesn't want to. Keeps those memories held tightly against him, even if it means that grief hasn't had a chance to dissolve.
And for Markus, that's fine, in the end.
Noctis’ forestalled gesture is too obvious to not be noted. It falls into the trap of awkwardness, half-completed, but Markus takes the reins instead, not so affected by that brand of self-consciousness. It’s easy enough to scoot slightly closer, to place a gentle yet affirming hand on the young man’s shoulder.
Commiseration, he had once told him. Maybe this is it. ]
And do you feel the same way? That you've begun to change, too?
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Wow. That was the worst. ]
Uh... I dunno, yet. I think in some ways, but it's hard to know how much of that is me doing what I want to do and growing to make better choices, or... just doing what I have to do. I've barely had time to stop and think.
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He drops his hand, settling it back on his lap.]
I know exactly what that's like.
[They run so parallel with each other, facing similar trials across completely different worlds and circumstances, that Markus is almost sorry for it.]
But maybe they're sometimes one and the same. Maybe some people aren't given the luxury of differentiating the two. [A beat.] Besides, even though this world provides some leeway to 'stop and think', it hardly ever feels that way.