rookshire | Even if I don't know what your pain is

Even if I don't know what your pain is

Who: Spirit and Kit (willing or unwilling), and then Spirit and everyone!
What: When a man promises to make soup, he makes soup! Feel free to find him outside cooking or as he's bringing a pot of definitely-edible-but-not-great soup around.
Where: Just outside the sallyport, and then around inside
When: New Moon
Warnings: See post headers, none yet

I. Cooking

There's no stove inside. At first, Spirit considers this sort of a problem--how is he supposed to go about cooking without a heat source? Until the hangover (and it's a terrible hangover) wears off enough, and he considers cooking outside. He doesn't mind the heat enough for it to be a deterrent, certainly, despite the fair skin that would suggest that he can't manage.

So he gathers the ingredients he can scrape together (a few Cup of Noodles, two cans of soup broth they'd found in the city, some cans of vegetables, some water). It's not much, but he's pretty sure he can make something that's at the very least edible. So for much of the late morning, he's a little ways away from the sallyport entrance with his hair tied back and sleeves rolled up (they're dry now, thanks Liam!) attempting to coax something flavorful that doesn't taste like garbage from the Ingredients of Dubious Quality.

Because he's outside, his back is to the sallyport and he's whistling quietly to himself as he cooks. Probably not difficult to sneak up on, but if you scare the cook too much you won't get any soup.

II. Serving

Kit gets first dibs. He'd made that much clear last night, despite the slur to his words. So he starts with her, carefully managing a large pot of soup with noodles and a few vegetables. It's not the best thing he's ever made, but it's better than the canned junk and actually doesn't taste half bad (he knows, because he's tasted it).

After serving her, he makes his way to the break room. Here, he sets the pot aside and returns to the locker room to collect a few more pans. It's an interesting array serving items he's got: two shallow pans, another larger pot, a few mugs and some utensils--exactly none of which are spoons.

He posts himself at the door, knowing there isn't exactly a wafting scent of tasty soup to speak for his efforts. He's holding the single large spoon that he'd been using to cook in his right hand, and will absolutely flag any passers-by down. He'll also be calling down the hall if he hears you.

"Hey. Soup's up, if you're interested. It's not terrible!" Given the available resources, he considered this an accomplishment. "It's cooled down a bit too."

III. Aggressive Dad Mode: Activate [Closed to Kit]

Spirit meant what he'd said about the soup. She gets a mug and a fork, and Spirit doesn't wait for her to appear so he can offer. Instead, he looks for her through the hospital until he finds her. If she's awake or not it doesn't matter: he kneels beside her, holding the cup carefully in his hands.

"I promised soup. It's not the best I've ever made," he's talking quietly, thoughtfully, as he offers the small mug to her, "but it's better than what's in the cans, and it isn't too heavy. Should sit in your stomach all right."

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"My point stands."

Spirit heaves a sigh, frowning.

"Prompto. You need to talk to her." His tone becomes serious, unusual for him. Had anyone even heard him so serious yet? "You aren't going to like it. And neither is she. I can almost guarantee it's going to be unpleasant. For both of you."

Spirit crosses his arms, still facing Prompto's direction but pointedly not looking directly at him. "Take it from the guy who managed to destroy a marriage by not talking." Beat. "You just need to talk to her."

His gaze fell down. It wasn't the type of answer he wanted to hear. It wasn't easy, and it wasn't happy. That didn't mean he wasn't taking it seriously, but it was a lot harder than trying to hunt for food or take down monsters.

He looked entirely like a teenager trying to navigate his first relationship.

"Do you think it's okay to wait for a little bit?"

Because it had only happened last night. He doubted Kit wanted to have anything to do with him right now.

Spirit smiles, as reassuring as he can manage, before clapping a hand on Prompto's shoulder in support.

"I think that's fine, so long as you actually do it."

The seriousness is gone in a moment, stretching leisurely. The reassuring smile becomes a grin. "Glad you came out to eat. It's not easy carrying a saucepan full of soup around, I'd have spilled it before I tracked you down."

That gave him some relief. At least he had time to think of what to do or say. Maybe he could try and put it aside for the moment. It had been weighing on him since it happened, and had been a large part of the reason why he hadn't eaten.

"I'm just glad there's people here who can cook. I wouldn't last very long on my own. What... err, were you talking about earlier? With gods and kids and stuff?"

"Oh, right. It's a little complicated, so bear with me."

Spirit crosses his arms, again unsure of how to begin to explain.

"Lord Death is a god. But he's physical, you know? I can interact with him." He's learned since Genessia that gods are not always physical beings. "I work for him. A lot of the Weapons stay working for him."

"I'm his primary Weapon." This is said with a swell of pride, before his expression flattens. "Eh--I was. His son, Death the Kid, has ascended. Taken over, you know? That means the Lord Death I knew is gone."

"When my Lord Death created Kid from a piece of his soul, he made Kid incomplete. So he could learn and grow."

He gauges Prompto's expression to see if he's being understood. "Makes sense?"

"Yeah, on our world like, Ramuh and Leviathan and the gods are physical, too. Wait... Are they not physical other places?"

He'd only really heard of physical ones.

"What... exactly did he do? I mean. What was the job? It doesn't sound like you guys healed people or anything."

Working with gods just made him think of the Oracle or the king. He wasn't quite connecting what it meant for Spirit.

"I guess so. That's what I've been told, anyway."

Tilting his head, Spirit shrugs. "Balance. Maintain order. That's the basic premise, anyway. Mostly we tracked down and took care of," meaning killed, and the Weapon eating the soul of, "the inhumanely cruel, or those who grossly abused innocent souls."

Another beat, then: "makes a little more sense now?"

"A little. I think. So you hunted bad guys. It's a little weird to think of, though. I mean, the gods having kids. I'm not even sure if that's possible back home. I guess maybe? ...I don't know."

He lifted the soup to his mouth and took a large slurp, pouring what he could into his mouth carefully.

Spirit laughs, this time genuine. "You should've seen the look on my face when Lord Death cheerfully announced he needed help taking care of his son."

Watching Prompto enjoy the soup made him genuinely happy. He does like to cook, and as he'd said to Ignis it was no fun cooking for just himself.

"Death the Kid is a part of Lord Death's soul. Lord Death considered Kid his son, but I guess in the way humans have kids it's not the same. Maybe the same premise?"

"Does that mean they can read each other's minds or something?"

He was enjoying very much! That much was clear when he downed the rest, satisfied at least that his stomach was filled after many hours of grumbling. He let out a gasp when he finally took a breath, settling down and putting the dish to the side. Not a drop wasted - but that was good considering their circumstances, right?
Spirit could dad him anytime. He probably needed it.

"...no?" This answer took him a few seconds to come up with, clearly.

"Parents and children do share a special type of soul resonance, there's actually very little risk of incompatibility of the souls because of it. But Kid and Lord Death, I don't think it works the same. Besides, they're both meisters." This is said as if it makes the entire statement make sense. "You know. They wouldn't wield the other in combat."

"But my daughter is a meister--even when we aren't getting along," which is always, "soul resonance is easily possible."

This is clearly not a lot of information to drop on the kid at once.

Prompto could, at least, be decently good about admitting to certain things.

"Yoooou've lost me a bit there, dude. I don't really get what a meister is. And, like, soul resonance and stuff..."

Not that he couldn't put words together to get a basic gist of it, but it was confusing as heck.

"Right, sorry. A Meister is a person who can wield a Weapon. Has the ability to resonate with a Weapon. Still following me?"

Spirit doesn't wait for an answer before pressing on. "For example, you could probably use me in my Weapon form. But it wouldn't be the same as if I were working with a Meister. With a Meister that has a compatible soul, we can...do more," he waves a hand vaguely, "like using soap and water. You can sort of use one without the other, but they're better together. And together, they make something a little bit different."

"I... think." He honestly wasn't great at this stuff, but he thought he was getting an overall picture. "It's kinda like fighting with the guys. We just know how to work with each other."

It was the closest he could think of. "It's really weird to think of you as a 'weapon'. All I can think of is Gladio picking you up by the feet and smashing you into things..."

"...yeah, close enough."

Sort of. Though at Prompto's comment, he can't help but laugh. The idea is simultaneously preposterous while making some actual sense.

"If he did that with me like this, he'd be more likely to smash my face in than anything else," he doesn't seem mad. Just amused, and a bit thoughtful--he's trying to wrap his head around the image. "My Weapon form is a scythe. I guess, if you think of the base of the shaft as feet and just swung the blade around, the comparison kind of works..."

"I wonder if you'll be able to like, transform, I guess, when everyone has their powers back. It seems weird though. I mean, how do you think like that? Scythes back home didn't have brains... Kinda hard to wrap my head around."

Almost felt like talking about a cartoon. Prompto wasn't a scientist, but he still generally stayed fairly grounded in a reality that he could fathom.

"I hope so." This has the air of being genuine, really genuine, though Spirit doesn't expand on the thought. Being unable to transform is like missing half of himself: who is he, if not a Weapon?

He doesn't let himself dwell on the thought. "I'm still me in there. The form doesn't matter, just the soul. Looking different doesn't change who I am. You're not any different if you cut your hair off. You don't suddenly lose the ability to think, you just look a little different. Same concept."

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Even if I don't know what your pain is

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