Only ...only one, now. The other two- [He won't say dead, he refuses to say Pure Vanilla is dead, he's just. Trapped. Taken. Somewhere they can't reach, maybe beyond the door in Seamus' basement, but not dead-]
The other two are missing. Dark Cacao cookie, who has Misty's other half, and [His voice falters a little, but he moves past it quickly.] Pure Vanilla Cookie, the holder of Truth.
[He does not say "the holder of the other half of his jam" which Pavlova may pick up on. He may also pick up on the sheer wave of grief that welled up in his heart the moment he spoke of him. Don't worry about it.]
[He moves onto the subject of his past self easily, though being called "Dad" does something to him that he hadn't expected. A warmth and ...fear? That feeling of still wearing the mask of someone Pavlova loved remains with him, and it will take time for him to work through it.]
Seamus Maverick was his name. He was a school professor, accomplished in maaaany subjects, but was the most renowned for magic! So, not a shocking twist or anything, I'm afraid.
[ Oh he can certainly tell. Heartache rolls off of his father in waves, and he almost feels bad for asking... but at the same time he knew if he didn't ask he'd never be able to settle down.
Funny how in any other situation he'd be ecstatic over the doomed lovers trope. Maybe he'll look into it later. For now he's somewhat grateful he only has to deal with one. Maybe he can help find them later. Much later. He feels like he could sleep for a week, though he's also kind of scared to fall asleep. Would all of this melt away and be lost forever? Maybe this was a stress nightmare. ]
Seamus Maver... S.M.?
[ That's certainly a coincidence. Though him being a teacher and focused on magic definitely tracks. His dad did love to teach. Or, he thought he did, at least. He's still not sure what caused him to fall. ]
I guess maybe I might have been one of your students? I don't really know how this works but...
[ ... He can't see a world where he didn't at least like being around his father. ]
[As they move past the subject of Pure Vanilla as quickly as possible, he does allow himself to grin, to resume a mask of levity. All this serious talk is starting to wear on him, and he doesn't like Pavlova being troubled, either. He's a jester, so none of that.]
It is rather on the nose, huh? This world finds our cookie names strange! Weird, if you ask me.
[He did love to teach. He still does, but he finds he only cares for it these days when its on his terms. When it is no longer a shackle.]
Possible! I'll have to go through the journals and writings dear Seamus left behind to see if a name stands out as yours.
[Ah, a pause. He does have questions. How is he? How's his mother. What's happening in the Garden right now. What did he remember last? Where was he all this time, that he did not age. Wh-]
Are you hungry? Tired? This sun room is pretty cozy, you know. Good place for a nap.
[ At the mention of a nap his gaze trails to the giant butterfly kitty still taking up residency on the couch. Maybe he'd have considered it were he not beaten to the punch, but as it was, he's not sure if there was anywhere other than the floor to take a nap now... and while that wasn't really a problem for him, he had a feeling his dad might object.
He reached up to rub quietly at his eyes, but he doesn't confirm or deny the question yet, he merely stares quietly at Marble. ]
... If I go to sleep will I wake up back there?
[ His return question is so soft, so incredibly weary that it really shouldn't have been audible. Like the words themselves were liable to whither and crumble. He glances back to his dad and seems to remember himself, though, straightening in his chair. ]
What kind of stuff do we even eat here? We look strange now.
no subject
Only ...only one, now. The other two- [He won't say dead, he refuses to say Pure Vanilla is dead, he's just. Trapped. Taken. Somewhere they can't reach, maybe beyond the door in Seamus' basement, but not dead-]
The other two are missing. Dark Cacao cookie, who has Misty's other half, and [His voice falters a little, but he moves past it quickly.] Pure Vanilla Cookie, the holder of Truth.
[He does not say "the holder of the other half of his jam" which Pavlova may pick up on. He may also pick up on the sheer wave of grief that welled up in his heart the moment he spoke of him. Don't worry about it.]
[He moves onto the subject of his past self easily, though being called "Dad" does something to him that he hadn't expected. A warmth and ...fear? That feeling of still wearing the mask of someone Pavlova loved remains with him, and it will take time for him to work through it.]
Seamus Maverick was his name. He was a school professor, accomplished in maaaany subjects, but was the most renowned for magic! So, not a shocking twist or anything, I'm afraid.
no subject
[ Oh he can certainly tell. Heartache rolls off of his father in waves, and he almost feels bad for asking... but at the same time he knew if he didn't ask he'd never be able to settle down.
Funny how in any other situation he'd be ecstatic over the doomed lovers trope. Maybe he'll look into it later. For now he's somewhat grateful he only has to deal with one. Maybe he can help find them later. Much later. He feels like he could sleep for a week, though he's also kind of scared to fall asleep. Would all of this melt away and be lost forever? Maybe this was a stress nightmare. ]
Seamus Maver... S.M.?
[ That's certainly a coincidence. Though him being a teacher and focused on magic definitely tracks. His dad did love to teach. Or, he thought he did, at least. He's still not sure what caused him to fall. ]
I guess maybe I might have been one of your students? I don't really know how this works but...
[ ... He can't see a world where he didn't at least like being around his father. ]
Oh, right um. Did you have questions for me?
[ Yes, he noticed. ]
no subject
It is rather on the nose, huh? This world finds our cookie names strange! Weird, if you ask me.
[He did love to teach. He still does, but he finds he only cares for it these days when its on his terms. When it is no longer a shackle.]
Possible! I'll have to go through the journals and writings dear Seamus left behind to see if a name stands out as yours.
[Ah, a pause. He does have questions. How is he? How's his mother. What's happening in the Garden right now. What did he remember last? Where was he all this time, that he did not age. Wh-]
Are you hungry? Tired? This sun room is pretty cozy, you know. Good place for a nap.
no subject
He reached up to rub quietly at his eyes, but he doesn't confirm or deny the question yet, he merely stares quietly at Marble. ]
... If I go to sleep will I wake up back there?
[ His return question is so soft, so incredibly weary that it really shouldn't have been audible. Like the words themselves were liable to whither and crumble. He glances back to his dad and seems to remember himself, though, straightening in his chair. ]
What kind of stuff do we even eat here? We look strange now.