{Hazy sunshine over the hill

[deadlycurves]

WHO: Hargreeves + YOU

WHERE: Krakoa; various

WHEN: Varies, specified by thread

WHAT: Varies, specified by thread

WARNINGS: Warnings will be updated where necessary

Comments

[timehit]

They’ve been like this for years, so much so that it would be easy for Five to stay in the habit of ignoring whatever gibberish comes out of Klaus’ mouth. But he allows for a patient moment to take in the details of what he says, trying to puzzle out something near to legitimate in the question. Why ask him something so strange, of all people, if he just means to dick around and maybe entertain Claire with their usual hijinks?

Five looks suspicious but he sits down all the same, reaching over to take a few cookies for himself. All of the kitchen work takes energy, after all, and he’s going to need more of it for this conversation, however it decides to slice out. “It’s possible,” he says with a cool air. He’s not sure this isn’t going to end up with him leaning over the table to block Claire’s ears. “Why, what did you dream about?”

Once the milk wiggles closer to the table, Five stops taking chances and snatches it out of the air. He looks over the top of it while pouring himself a glass, giving Klaus the same stern expression he usually does. “Please, whatever it is, keep it child-appropriate. I don’t want us to sit through another lecture from her parents for being bad uncles.”

These two, setting a bad example for a sweet, innocent child? Who could even imagine.

[evoque]

A part of Klaus had kind of expected Five to tell him to shut up and eat the cookies, which, you know, fair. But Five listens instead, with all the caution of someone who has been on the receiving ends of one of the fabled, mentioned lectures. With Klaus in tow, naturally.

So Klaus hums into his milk, and smiles at Five and Claire with the most innocent grin he can muster. "Okay, first of all, that was just a few times, and most of them were completely out of context!"

"But," he slides back into a chair, folding a leg under him. "I don't know - it's all vague, dreamlike, you know? First I was just dreaming normal stuff, like talking to a three headed elephant. Then I was falling. Then -," he makes as though to say one thing, hesitates; Klaus has never been good at straight-to-the-point honesty. It takes a few somersaults, and dodging the real issue. Still, he isn't lying here. "- then robots. Yeah, there was definitely robot fighting. At an awards show?" He stuffs a cookie into his mouth, another one floating over to Claire. "We were mostly all there," sans Vanya, and of course Ben, and he doesn't stay too long on that. Can't. "You were there as your lovable, adorable prepubescent self, no less. Which was weird, because the rest of us were adults. Maybe even older?"

He shrugs then, jovial and care-free as ever. Because that's what he does, and who he is, and it's easy to be that. Or something like it. Still, he throws a tentative look over at Five. "I don't know, double-oh-five. It just felt weird." And he knows weird, to be fair.

[timehit]

“A weird feeling,” Five repeats slowly. There’s a moment where it appears, perhaps rightly so, that Klaus’ brother will turn a cheek and dismiss the story. Maybe it’s his deadpan stare, the way the words seem to roll off of him like Teflon, because reaching through all of his doubt and suspicion can sometimes be impossible — Five takes a few bites of his peanut butter cookie, however, carefully working his way through the details before he tries to respond.

Maybe it’s Claire’s presence, wide-eyed and innocent beside him. Maybe it’s his lighter mood from making cookies with a houseful of family, those he loves and those who love him. Whatever circumstance flips fortune favorably over to Klaus’ side, Five leans forward on the table, resting his palms and forearms against the surface.

“So you’re saying this felt like a memory of some kind? And you said this isn’t the first time you’ve had these dreams?” Five does, however, sigh to himself. “Just...ignore the elephants, Klaus, I’m talking about us in another world.”

He levels a narrow stare at his brother, but it isn’t his usual peeved expression — easy to tell with how much he employs it. Instead, this is the sort of sharp, calculating stare that he uses most often during work hours; all of those days spent teaching space and time theory, poring over math equations and the multi-splintering possibilities of what was, what could be.