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[He's slow about eating compared to Falco, but that certainly seems more to do with him than the food.

At the comment about acidity, he hums, finishing his own bite and inclining his head.]

You can get away with a lot with sugar, but you'll want to taste it while you do. If you wanted to counteract it chemically, you'd want to add something like a small amount of baking soda, then maybe a little sugar or butter.

It's not really a problem if you have fresh tomatoes and make your own sauce, but that's a longer process.

[He just sort of states this like it's nothing - and for him, it really isn't much. He's prepared make for himself for ages now, and Lily was wonderful about teaching. As to the question...]

... Honestly, I'm not sure. There's a lot I don't eat because of my disease.

I guess a mild chicken soup is what I think of most, though. Or just... Lightly steamed vegetables and steak. I usually make my food, so I don't think much of it.

[ his very own tomato sauce . . . actually, the time ethan spends talking is the time falco can take to chew through his forkfulls. ]

I can try chicken soup . . . [ it didn’t sound so hard! and the most inquiring of those thoughts: ] You sound like you know how to cook a lot of things, Mister Ethan.

It's a good starter choice. Mostly just takes a while of waiting. [At the comment about knowing cooking, Ethan can't help but smile. Despite it all, after all, there are good memories there.]

I learned pretty young, mostly from my sister after our parents passed. She liked cooking a lot more than I do, but with my disease, I have to be pretty careful with what I have.

[ ❗ out of nowhere, falco seems happy for something, and he soon makes that apparent. ]

You have a sibling! What's she like?

[For once, Ethan doesn't wince. He brought her up, after all, so he'd accepted taking about her from that point.]

Mm. She was... Very kind. Soft-spoken, but stern when she needed to be. Just full of life and optimism, and she always seemed to know what to say to help someone who was hurting, even if she didn't know why.

[His smile is wistful, talking about her. And he doesn't correct Falco exactly, but he might catch the past tense for what it is.]

[ at first, he didn’t pay much attention— he’d assumed, fairly quickly, that he’s using past because ethan was no longer home and not because of the worst. it’s listening and mulling over each word, each descriptor once or twice that he realizes . . . he’s looking into a mirror for when he spoke of colt. happy to remember. wistful that it’s out of his reach. he could see it in ethans’s eyes now, and lowers the fork in his hand. ]

Did she look like you?

[ he’s caught on, but for falco’s visual puzzle to his imagination, one thing was still missing. he asks out of both curiosity and respect for the memory. ]

[Ethan almost laughs at the idea, and his head shakes.]

We shared some features, of course - she's related by blood, after all - but she was... Much more captivating than me. She was luckier medically, too, maybe because we had different mothers.

[He can see it so easily, her hands laced together while she stood by, gently working with him on some mundane task.]

... Would you like to see? I still have her last videolog message.

[He knows it'll hurt him to hear her right now, but maybe he wants that. And maybe he needs it.]

[ falco’s eyes widen as his fork gets gently placed over the plate in an unspoken finish. it’s something he wish he could have. colt still moving in front of him, talking and laughing. maybe even a picture would do— but he had none. it felt like a sacred opportunity, no matter the technological advancement. ]

If you don’t mind it . . . Yes, please.

I don't mind. I refer to it a lot, back home.

[He doesn't quite laugh at the thought of minding. Really, he should probably refer to her more often...

But he takes a moment to pull up his screen and adjust the size so it's easier to see. The numbers and words displayed won't mean anything to Falco, but they're quickly dismissed for the recall of a video anyway.

It's a simple scene, just a park with sparse trees in some unknown location, with a figure at the front. She's... well, very pretty - older than Ethan is now, by the business clothes she wears. It's not hard to tell they're related, though at a glance, her features are much more round and soft than Ethan's, her skin a more proper complexion - a bit darker, even, than his own. They share the same slim figure and intense eyes, though Lily's are a bright, yellow-green hazel compared to Ethan's green ones.

She has one of those smiles that could turn the world around, and it's given freely here. There's audio to the video as well, and it's slightly grainy from the small output speakers in the glove, but easily heard. "It's been a while since we could talk last," she begins - and just... talks to him. It's hard to remember she was just recording, sometimes.

She speaks, in the videolog, of mostly mundane things - though it softens at the end on a rather more... serious note. "I know things are kind of rough lately, and you can't talk to me like we used to, but still. You're doing the best you can, and never forget that, okay? No matter what happens, don't let someone else change who you are.

I'm proud of you, Ethan."

From there, the video will just loop, so it's clear that it's ended even before Ethan dismisses it.]

[ ah . . . she almost reminded falco of a princess of some sort, not just by beauty, but especially because of the way she spoke. charisma, goodness— it almost felt like you could talk back to her, and it brings a quaint, warming smile to falco's face. he edges off of his seat and even begins to lean. it's over too soon, and even when it starts up again only to shut off in silence . . . falco looks over to ethan with a visible likeness in his eyes. ]

She looks a lot like you, there. [ he wasn't sure how he could put into words what he was feeling without it simply being "she looks so nice". ] Did she work a lot?

[He'd laugh if he knew that - Lily was anything but a princess, charisma or not. But it's... kind of nice, seeing someone else as entranced as he's always been. It dims the ache of separation a bit more, and his lips quirk unevenly at the comment on her looks.]

You think so? I guess we did never get mistaken for anything but siblings. [He'd have accepted 'she looks so nice', honestly.] She worked about as normal, I think. I was the one who was always gone.

It was safer for her. Well... it was supposed to be. With what I do, nothing is perfectly safe, though.

[ he’s heard of occupational hazards . . . hell, he was part of one, and even if everything happened in the wrong place and the wrong time— it’s hard to shake off the feeling that he killed colt. he can imagine that it might be the same sentiment: blame. ]

Your job was dangerous?

A bit, yeah. The work itself's not inherently dangerous, but... I mean, what I do? It can be.

We're basically infiltrators, going in to find information people are trying to hide, you know? Naturally, they have defenses in place. So I had my own, and separated myself from the people I knew.

[He can't help but laugh, setting his fork down. It doesn't take him long to get full, really.]

Wasn't... really hard, before. She was really the only person I was around, other than people who helped me handle my disease.

[ understanding washing there on falco's face now, at how much infiltration and stealing information could truly be dangerous. he knew what people could do, to either retaliate, or scare, or even enact revenge. he swallows a little more tightly than he had wished was audible. ]

I wish I had a video of Colt . . . [ or a picture, or anything, really. he shifts his legs together and places his hands on his lap. he'd watch it everyday. ] He's my older brother.

It's... an up and down sort of feeling.

[Ethan says it without hesitation, without remorse. With a little bit of saddened understanding, too, that echoes in his face. Of course... his feelings are twofold, what with the other file he has involving her. That's something he hopes Falco never gets to witness.]

You remember him, though - there's that too. All the best things, those stay right with you. [He places a hand on his chest, over his heart. If he didn't have that video, he's not... always sure he could say the same. But still, it's true.] What's he like?

[ the best and the worst, he thinks, but that’s all a part of experience— nothing would ever be a rose bed when the innocence of its existence was taken so early. ]

He looked just like me. Or— I look just like him. He was always looking out for me . . . And we were in the same unit, so, we’d see each other all the time. [ colt came first, after all. wider shoulders. more grown into the frame of a man than a boy, sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. ] He’s gone, too.

[He can see it, he thinks. The way Falco might grow up, fill out his form, stand tall and sure. There's a lot to question - most of it already answered in a sort of absent fact.

He doesn't know what it's like for the dead
Can never decide if he thinks it'd be better that there was some kind of heaven, some place for the soul to depart. In the end, it doesn't matter. Knowing probably wouldn't help him find the right words.]

I'm sorry for your loss. He sounds like he was a good man. Protective, even. And... There's still something that lingers, at least. You keep him close, so he'll never be completely gone.

I think that was the last thing he said to me.

[ it still jumbles from time to time, and, his head starts splitting if he tries too hard to remember the details right before one’s very first transformation. at least, when falco remembers it, despite the subtle wince that makes him press his temple to his shoulder, he sounds . . . longing, at the very least. despite colt being gone, the last thing he saw from him, painfully so, was love. falco was sure he’d stupidly do the same thing. ]

I don’t remember it that well, but I feel it. [ a small pat to his chest, and, an amiable chance, he pours a cup of fruit juice for each one (natural, no added sugar), and lifts his. ] To them?

[The smile he gives is warm, head inclining lightly. It's a lot, but they're here and that matters.]

Sometimes, feeling it is all you really need. [He raises his glass on turn when Falco does, smile broadening slightly. He clinks the two together gently then, as he speaks.]

To them.

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