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Woodsman. Right. At least his own constipation was emotional.

"You know, you're really not doing yourself any favors in making me want to go anywhere year your literal a** with that description," Wyatt's dry teasing continued.

as Lukas monologued, Wyatt paid, grabbed their food and drinks and then they were on their way home.

"Ah, on that note, I have one major rule - No powering up at home. Keep it to the city. Don't need to be attracting bad s**t out that way. And at the moment your power is very....squishy," He said with some sort of hand motions for emphasis. "My goal now is just to get you to a point where you actually stand a chance out there...."

The thought did cross his mind that maybe this was fate's weird way of taking out the main obstacle that stopped Wyatt from being more open to Lukas' feelings. In which case, well, another heaping helping of guilt on his conscience. But what he didn't expect was the spark of...relief? Repose? Ease? Whatever, that he felt as well. Now he didn't need to manufacture an excuse to maintain a distance, and feel like he was leading Lukas on with absolutely no hope of letting things develop. Then he had to ask himself...did he want to let it?

While he couldn't understand what made Lukas like him in the first place, what did he even really know about the self-proclaimed woodsman? What did Wyatt himself feel on the matter? He honestly wasn't sure. He'd tried not to entertain those thoughts, especially when he had thought that it wouldn't be going anywhere, regardless of how he felt. The thoughts were almost just as troubling as the idea of Lukas being a part of this cosmic war now, and how he now had an obligation, he felt, to insure his safety. Not necessarily as a protector, but to teach Lukas how to protect himself. Hawara was, by all metaphorical imagery, a sword. Lethal and unforgivably so. It was not in his character to play the shield. He wasn't like most on the side of order who played the role of peacemaker. Hawara was about maintaining the balance of order and chaos, knowing none could truly ever be allowed to win, and sometimes that balance had to be maintained by force as some....could never be saved. Not by anyone, let alone them self. You could bring someone to [see] the light, but that didn't mean they would stay.

"Well," Wyatt began, but gave a long pause.

Power, strength.... There was some subjectivity there. You could have the power to explode brains instantly, but without the will to do so, did you truly have any power at all? And then there was the 'cozy' and sentimental concept of the power of forgiveness, love, and compassion. He couldn't entirely discount that - Wyatt was pretty sure 'love' was what had kept Chaos from truly taking root in his heart and mind, weakening Chaos', Metallia's, control over his will. He was well aware of how as more Chaos was pumped into one's being, the more they lost control over their own decision making ability, becoming a stolkholm-ed slave to Chaos, and so their actions weren't entirely their own. However, sometimes those dark thoughts and desires were already there, and Chaos enhanced them, creating truly dangerous pawns....

Bismuthite had already had that darkness in him. All the stars had been properly aligned for him to have been a true terror. Love saved him. As much as it broke him in the end, it had saved him, truly.

"..I've had more than ten years at this, so...." a shrug, "Surviving can be considered a strength all it's own I guess. As for pain - I can go a bit longer when I'm Hawara. I don't make it a habit of pushing it."

These days he was out more to blow off some steam, and get rid of that nagging feeling that never truly let anyone ignore their cosmic-prescribed responsibility than anything. Some would say he was a bit 'lost' in his direction. Aimless. But compared to life as an agent of the Negaverse? He was free. Like the wind. A harsh, biting, wind, but the wind nevertheless.

Finally pulling in to the park, Wyatt gave a....soft glance at Lukas. If only for a moment. He wouldn't let Chaos have this one. He'd fight tooth and nail for that. He didn't need to fight. He could dedicate himself to homeworld exploration rather than fighting for all he cared. He just needed to make sure he could take care of himself if circumstances arose where he had to protect himself.

Coming to a stop in his usual parking spot, Wyatt, with the arm of Lukas wrapped over his shoulders, looked at the other man with a put-on look of indifferent deadpan.

"Exhibit A; Ignorance really is bliss. Pardon me whilst I take your innocence in like, 5 minutes. And not in the way you maybe would prefer~" Wyatt retorted, deadpan turning into a sly smirk at his devious comment.

Was he a hedgehog or a kitsune? Hmm.

Wyatt opened his door and slipped out of Lukas' one-armed hold while grabbing his own viddles.

"Speaking of stairs, after we finish your tower, we're building me a porch. Deck. Something."

The little stairs of the camper were steep, and not the most solid-feeling thing, and especially slippery when the weather was wet. one maybe could have considered that little comment a request for help. Maybe. Possibly.

Wyatt then threw open the door of the camper and motioned for Lukas to enter.

"It think you're the type that could become targeted. Especially knowing what I know."

One didn't have to desire to be corrupted to join Chaos, unlike how one had to desire to be purified to join the side of order if they were unfortunate enough to find themselves on the side of Chaos to begin with. And he knew some who were not above forced corruptions and the like.

Wyatt stubbornly, albeit in a lightly playful manner rejected the offered arm, making his own way up those terrible steps. He tossed his bag of remaining food on to the table, motioned for Lukas to take a seat, while he made his way to the 'bedroom' of the camper and started rifling through some of the overhead storage, eventually pulling out a thick 3-ring binder and bringing it back to the table, setting it down in front of Lukas.

"Here, this should get you started."

In the binder Lukas would find a very well organized collection of knowledge as Wyatt knew it....so some things may not have been entirely accurate, some things were outdated, and others maybe didn't have as much information as they could. The Negaverse section though, was massive compared to all the others. Numerous sketches and the like. Although other sections also had them, it was suspiciously obvious that Wyatt knew things that someone on his current side of things shouldn't without prior....experience.

Giving Lukas time to at least give the binder a quick look-through, Wyatt returned to the bedroom, closing the curtain behind him, and changed out of his work clothes, emerging in a pair of dark ath-liesure lounge pants that maybe, from the way the hung low and loose on his hips, could have fit a little better. Or maybe if he bothered to tie them.... That was it. Did you expect more? Nah. This was Wyatt's place. He'd wear, or not wear, whatever he wanted. He slowly sauntered back over to the table, but not before grabbing a bottle of rum and a shot glass. Taking a seat, Wyatt began to pry the lid off of his coke cup.

Wyatt let out a puff of air that may have been a bit of an amused laugh as he placed the lid back on his, now spiked, coke.

"You didn't think all this gray is natural, did you?" Wyatt asked rhetorically while brushing a hand over said hair, which was a good 98% shiny silver, with a few strands of light sandy blonde here and there, barely noticeable in the long run.

Granted, he'd grayed long before he ever joined the war - childhood trauma that he no longer remembered had already done that.

More seriously now, "I wanted to get as much down as I could before I risked losing all that knowledge."

A long pause as he took a good long sip of his drink.

"I wasn't always on the right side of things," He reached across the table and flipped the pages of the binder to the section on 'Purification and Corruption.'

"Like I've said before - I'm trying to be better. That didn't just mean in general. Now...I can't say I came to the side of order out of any moral sense of wanting to be better. I had more selfish, and yet at the same time entirely selfless reasons for that...but the betterment of the world for the sake of others was definitely not my agenda."

He was....skirting around the reason with a vagueness that belied the fact that he wasn't quite ready to come out with the full story.

He took in a deep breath, the sighed with a casual shrug, "But that doesn't matter so much as the fact that I made the decision to pull myself out of that situation. Can I say that this side of this is any more virtuous or benevolent? No. I'm probably still going to be one of the more heartless, ruthless, and dangerous people you'll find on this side. Just like there are some people who are charitable and generous on that side, despite Chaos' influence that will one day snuff that out. There is no black and white. Calling it 'Order' and 'Chaos' is a misnomer. This is a war that no side can win, all we can try to do is strike a balance, but there will always be one side trying to gain more than the other. So-"

He took another sip.

"-That's why, even though I will help you to become stronger for your sake, to protect yourself and gain the strength to explore your 'Wonder', I do not want you to think you have to dedicate yourself to any cause, or fight for anything. That kind of obsession...."

That kind of obsession is what lead his ex to ruin.

"Just.......... Don't quit your day job," He finally ended with an attempt at his kind of casual dry humor.

Perhaps it was in some way easier to be handed this power later in life, rather than as a dumb kid with delusions of grandeur. There was more real-world experience to temper dumb aspirations. A sense of who you are, rather than trying to figure out who you want to be. And that was good. Lukas seemed to have a grasp on all that, so the lure of something more was no bait for the fish. It was relieving to hear Lukas' resolve.

"Good. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes - and the only way to win is not to play," He said with a shrug, then pointed at the binder, "You're still going to want to keep that for a bit."

Lukas could read it at his leisure or refer back to it when needed. It wasn't like there wasn't the database, but it was simply a testament to Wyatt's own form of independence from others and emotional removal from the war itself.

"First order of business will be getting you your signet ring. That mean you'll be visiting your wonder, and as a newbie that'll be a solo mission. Taking me with you would be too draining, so the first few times, you'll be on your own, but you won't have to worry about monsters at least."

As he spoke, Wyatt seemed to want to make some sort of move or gesture, but hesitated, then stopped, playing it off as casually 'talking with his hands' gestures, but then after a final awkward pause and hesitant reach, a hand covered one of Lukas' own;

"You've only got yourself and memories to fear there, and I couldn't protect you from those anyway" Wyatt explained quietly, softly.

Sometimes memories were worse than monsters.

Such casual and self-assured optimism was not something Wyatt was quite acquainted with, but he found that, although he wanted to temper it, he couldn't bust that bubble. This was also the first that Lukas had really given about his past, and although he had figured there was some reason for wanting to live separate from he rest of society - like so many of them that lived here - he had kind of hoped that it wasn't that bad.

All this, along with the repairs to Lukas' tower to make it an actual livable space was going to make it a busy summer. There would be plenty more time for Lukas to share more when he felt comfortable doing so. It was kind of interesting to himself how he could so easily volunteer crumbs of his own past to Lukas as the other man held tight to his own story.

Lukas' grasp made Wyatt suddenly realize that he'd let his hand linger too long and he, with some trace of reluctance, pulled away.

"Resilience will serve you well," Wyatt said busying himself with his food.