Welcome to Gaia! ::

Lyndin had taken over the living room on the bottom floor for whatever project he was currently engaging in; though he hadn’t broadcast how worn down his body was, the fact that he was taking it easy and actually resting sometimes was indication enough that he knew he’d pushed his limits. It appeared as if he was sleeping on the couch, or at least napping there, but he obviously spent the bulk of his time working.

He’d collected the scattered debris from the explosion, and already had an array of inventions and tweaks he was working on. He had three computers set up, and five monitors, though they’d been acquired here on Earth and had been subject to his improvements.

There was a pleasant hum in the room, and while The Dark Kingdom held up to its name, he’d bathed the living room in a soft glow. It didn’t quite feel like home, but it was something close to it.

“You are very kind, Vyn. I appreciate it. I have rations but I am looking forward to something else.” He set down the tools he was working with and offered a hand to help with the bag. “Please pass along my gratitude to Aliez as well. Has he been following recipes or creating his own?”

Briefly, Lyndin had paused while he unloaded the bags. He had listened closely but it seemed like he felt some comfort in staying busy, too. He put away some of the groceries, but before he had finished he turned to Vyn.

“He’s lucky to have a friend like you,” he said. It wasn’t said just to comfort Aliez, or to be any sort of lip-service. He seemed convinced of this.

“I’ve always thought that. I appreciate the closeness you two have. And, I appreciate you sharing those concerns with me. I was worried, too. But he has a good heart, and he’s very clever. I wouldn’t have brought him if I thought he was going to fail. But, I understand being worried about him. Blasters aren’t for everyone. Maybe we’ll see if there’s something else he can carry around, instead.”

He knew Vyn wasn’t here to talk poorly of his friend, he could see by the way he seemed to be treading with caution that he appeared worried, like he was afraid to say the wrong thing. “Is that what you were going to suggest, or were you thinking something else?”

Lyndin glanced up and though he didn’t seem guilty, he seemed to be prepared to accept something like reproach. “When I sleep, yes.”

But it was a thought he dismissed quickly, not because he wanted to belittle Vyn’s concern or avoid the subject but because he had other things on his mind. “The Vanguard is my primary concern while on Earth. Velencya is managing without us for the time being.” There was no question that he was probably equally concerned about Velencya as he was the Cadets, especially because he wasn’t there, but the Vanguard was the one dealing with unfamiliar territory, unfamiliar people, unfamiliar war.

“If you have a concern, or a thought or worry or complaint, I’d like to hear it as soon as you’re ready to share it. Nothing from you is too small for me. Being self-reliant is important but I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to hold anything back on my account. I want to support you and see you thrive. I’ll talk to Aliez soon and we’ll see if we can’t figure out something more appropriate for him. Something he’s more comfortable with.”

Lyndin heard the inflection in Vyn’s voice, the uncertainty. He noted the way Vyn looked like he could have turned sick.

His movement slowed when Vyn produced a flower crown.

Only a second passed before he’d made up his mind. He moved from the bags he was emptying and stood before Vyn to examine the flowers. “You’ve gotten very good at this,” he noted. “I am honored by your selection. It does seem frivolous,” he agreed, “but I can’t call it such if it makes you happy. I’m grateful, I like it very much.”

He only looked at the crown; he made no effort to accept it. Instead, he stooped just slightly, and bowed his head while he waited for Vyn to place it for him.

Lyndin was, admittedly, a bit surprised by the sudden embrace; he stood to his full height when Vyn released him, one brow slightly arched.

“Well, I would hope so. I don’t think it’s self-serving at all, you should celebrate. You’ve proven your hypothesis correct.”

This wasn’t some experiment, but he was glad that Vyn had found some success, or at least, satisfaction that the end result was as expected.

Lyndin wasn’t much of celebrating, but he understood and appreciated the importance of making sure that the Cadets were taking adequate time to be proud of themselves and their accomplishments. So, Lyndin crossed the distance Vyn had put between them and resumed the hug he’d broken. It was not a crushing hug, but Lyndin put effort into making sure Vyn felt at least a little squeeze, though he left an opening so he could again break the hug when he was ready.

“Thank you. This is a wonderful gift. I am proud of you, Vyn. For this, and more.”

Throughout the hug, Lyndin had never faltered; he held onto Vyn for as long as he wanted, as long as he needed, and he didn’t put much distance between them even when the embrace was broken.

“You are too humble,” he said, not quite chastising but giving him a look. “You’re very clever, Vyn. We don’t know what’s going to be the solution we need. You might yet be the key, yet. But there is a great honor in protecting others, I think. You’re very brave, and you have a strong spirit. We’re lucky to have you. I’m lucky to have you here, too.”

He planted his hands on his hips and glanced at the couch.

“I suppose I can make a bit of an effort to rest a little more. I’ve been a little focused on a few of my projects. But I’m nearly finished with them, so I’ll get on a better sleep schedule afterwards. I don’t want to concern you with my poor habits.”