A LAWFUL WASTELAND

[counterattack]

[ it's December 8. Law turns 18 today. at this point, he's been living in Copalli for over a year. during the final relic fiasco, he achieved trance within about five seconds (because it's basically overlimit) and faced Tiamat in her castle because he had a score to settle with dragons (dragons, wyverns, same shit) and had enough taking shit from these mother fucking guardians in this mother fucking jungle. it was epic.

anyway, it's a few months later and Law lives in Tikal again, down at the bottom of the crater. they've built bridges and pulleys aboveground, as well as created a system to keep the crater from filling with water when it rains. although most of his farm was lost during Tikal's fall, he's rebuilt it bigger and better than ever and repopulated it with even more chickens, hogs, cows and even a few semi-domesticated mist monsters. there's also proper crops, probably due in part to at least one friend or another planting on the huge expanse of land he's set up there. he also rebuilt the inn that collapsed on top of him back then, and this time it's actually finished. he got a local business manager to help run the place and they export animal products and crops all over Copalli. the inn is booming. it's great.

all is well.

except now it's his birthday and Law is just trying to go about his business like he doesn't know that, strapping on his fancy wolf gauntlets and shouldering a big pack of supplies to go make some delivery trips to the other cities. nothin' to see here, not ya lil dude all growed up, a solid 5'9" (and a half) with some cool tribal tats done over his wyvern scars and something of a more mature countenance, buuuuuttt still the dweebo dorkus doofus meathead he's always been.

ANYWAY, THIS IS #LATERGRAM INCENSEDVERSE. medallion him, meet him at any of the cities, fight monsters together on the road, pretend there was a party planned that he's trying to sneak out of showing up to, WHATEVER WORKS. ]

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Points at eyes, points at you

[sincleavers]

[It's amazing, the things that can change within the span of a year. Alphen doesn't have to look far beyond his own appearance to see the effect of the time he's spent in Copalli. He's perhaps a bit taller (just enough to barely, barely outmeasure Law. Not that it's a contest. Or anything.), ruddier; his hair has grown a bit, though admittedly, he keeps it tied back most of the time. The most prominent changes, though, are ones brought on by the incense: fissure-like cracks that run the length of his arms, down his back, streaking across his torso like the stripes of a tiger. They don't burn to the touch, but they look like tracks of lava...and it took some time, but he finally stopped hiding them.

He, too, has been busy: rebuilding his home and Tikal, taking on more responsibility within the Jaguars... Not so busy that he's neglected the date, though. Whatever plans they have as a group later, he's got his own during the day. That doesn't stop him from pausing outside of the Jaguar lodge for a moment, though, remembering his first moments here in this strange world.

One year. It's a little hard to take in.

He knocks on the doorframe of Law's house when he arrives, if for no other reason than to announce his presence.]

Law? You here? I brought some lunch.

IT'S TIME TO FUCK SHIT UP

[counterattack]

[ A whole year. Law's been thinking about that, too. About his birthday last year, the party in his tiny little house—this tiny little house, in fact. Even if he's built a whole inn and a farm, he still hasn't expanded his own living space, only made the repairs necessary to live in it again. Humble and modest, and last year it was full of people. Right before all that, though, was the Tezcatli ruins, his first experience with turning into a monster, attacking people at random, nearly getting his insides torn out by his dad. He kept it together until after he'd reported in to Jaguar, who didn't seem fazed in the least. Then he stepped outside the lodge and made a fool of himself in front of Alphen.

Not for the first time. And it wouldn't be the last, either, as it turns out. And there's probably still more foolishness yet to come, but that's okay, because he'd much rather foolishness than... you know. The other thing. It still eats at him, and every time they're around each other it's a game of mental gymnastics to keep it off his mind. It's not supposed to be on his mind. They dealt with it. It's done, past, over.

And yet here he goes, throwing a whole pile of those blankets he likes so much (he got a ton of new ones after the old ones got ruined) onto his bed and looking up at the knock, at the sound of Alphen's voice, and he has two immediate, conflicting emotions: instant delight and instant guilt.

Luckily though, delight wins out. It usually does, where Alphen's concerned. Hard not to, y'know? ]

Hey! Yeah, come in. I just cleared off the table. Did you cook?

[ it's? actually? kind of clean in here? mostly? ...almost? ]

Whew, good timing. I was actually startin' to get hungry. It looks pretty good in here, right?

[ (unsure squinting) an effort was made ]

[sincleavers]

[Funny thing about the past. Just because it's over doesn't mean you never have to think about it. In some ways, Alphen is an expert on that subject -- he's not immune to thoughts of the past: Lenegis. Naori. Even blurry memories of his days in the army. Let alone the particular incident that they've danced around for so long.

It's hard to miss, and he hates it -- the slight hesitation between either of them that stretches out between "hi" and "hello." The inner battle between regret and the resolute desire to move forward. Is there a point when something is too broken to fix? How would you know you've reached that point, if you did? In that second before Law answers, Alphen wonders about that, as he often does...and he finds himself exhaling when he hears a response. As he often does. The smile broadens.]

I sure did. You cleaned?

[It's not that it's not noticeable, it's just that he...hasn't...noticed. But now that Law points it out and he looks around...he nods.]

It does look good. All ready for [...u-uhh. For what? For nothing, that's what. Nothing at all.

He pivots with:]

Hey, wanna give it a try? Mabo curry. I think I've finally got it down.

[He's lucked out once or twice recently and it's turned out perfect, but before that, it was still a little on the hot side. So he's trying to see if he can get it right for real, without lucking out.]

[counterattack]

Oh... yeah! I'm game.

[ Disregard that ever so slightly nervous oh. Listen—look. He's basically been through all the stages of Alphen and his cooking... twice now, technically? The Hell (Literal) stage, the Trying His Best stage, the Bless His Heart It's Edible stage, and the Holy Shit, This Is Genius stage. Back home, and then again here, and it's all basically played out the same. Trouble is, since they got to Copalli, Law has never seemed to have a free brain cell available to remember what stage they're at, so he either finds himself overly unwilling or entirely too willing to eat whatever Alphen's made, depending on how stupid he is that day.

He can't remember what stage they're at now, either. Like... no mask, but when was it he stopped killing everybody with the curry? Did he ever? There was definitely a point when it wasn't lethal, yeah.... probably... oh well. You know what? He's feeling ready for a little risk. And hey, putting potentially dangerous food in front of him is a great way to distract him from wondering what it is he's supposed to be ready for! ]

You get that set up, I'm just gonna... grab something real quick.

[ The "something" that he grabs is from the storage over in what could loosely be called his kitchen, kept cold courtesy some ice flan leavings: milk.

If he's gonna do this, he's gonna come prepared. It's the only way. He just... gently places that bottle on the table along with everything else as he sits down. ]

I knew there was a reason I decided to keep this around instead of shipping it off with the rest.