[ klaus hargreeves takes to solvunn not unlike a fish to water; its a familiar rhythm to fall back into — the local's fascinations reminiscent of that of his (not)cult, held together by bullshit and beyonce lyrics. all he had to do was smile, promise a few miracles they had hinted on along the way, and even accept a few humble little gifts.
normalcy and peace are entirely overrated, you see, and this was neither normal nor peaceful, like the thereafter had otherwise shown. so the world ends, and he finds himself in a new one and it feels starkly familiar, rinse and repeat. a big part of klaus considers that he is back in the void, that he's finally dead, and that this is someone's idea of an afterlife. someone's very specific, very elaborate idea of an afterlife.
except for the fact that his powers feel awkward, groggy but present in ways that still very much feel real. like something on the cusp of being able to be called back up, but too sleepy and that's a wild difference for klaus to notice. hardly like what his highs hid, a handful of years ago.
and now, instead, he navigates through the marketplace, sober and mostly convinced this is real. because he feels the wind in a way that isn't idyllic, and he's a little hungry, and he can't just conjure up some documentary about galaxies.
its with this in mind, and not at all watching out for who or what is around him that klaus is caught off guard by the hand grabbing onto his arm and pulling him sharply out of his thoughts. the question seems to catch him off-guard, because its so perfectly in line with his powers, and his current turmoil and he has a moment of staring down at the kid, with wild hair and wild eyes and a sort of desperate little look that has klaus's throat tightening. he's seen that look many times in mirrors and on the faces of ghosts.
he breaks into a little smile — a little sad, a little curious and maybe a little awkward. because that question alone implies a hell of a lot, especially when you're asking someone who's been living with — and running from — the dead his entire life. ] Well — that's a good question — [ he looks like he actually considers the question, a hand gently raised to rest on eddie's shoulder. featherlight, and easily dropped away, but klaus had always anchored in tactility. ] — it could be hard to tell. Given all the context of being dunked into some baptismal pool by Gandalf's cousin, but — this wouldn't happen to be your ideal afterlife, would it?
arrival, because it's a little too perfect!
normalcy and peace are entirely overrated, you see, and this was neither normal nor peaceful, like the thereafter had otherwise shown. so the world ends, and he finds himself in a new one and it feels starkly familiar, rinse and repeat. a big part of klaus considers that he is back in the void, that he's finally dead, and that this is someone's idea of an afterlife. someone's very specific, very elaborate idea of an afterlife.
except for the fact that his powers feel awkward, groggy but present in ways that still very much feel real. like something on the cusp of being able to be called back up, but too sleepy and that's a wild difference for klaus to notice. hardly like what his highs hid, a handful of years ago.
and now, instead, he navigates through the marketplace, sober and mostly convinced this is real. because he feels the wind in a way that isn't idyllic, and he's a little hungry, and he can't just conjure up some documentary about galaxies.
its with this in mind, and not at all watching out for who or what is around him that klaus is caught off guard by the hand grabbing onto his arm and pulling him sharply out of his thoughts. the question seems to catch him off-guard, because its so perfectly in line with his powers, and his current turmoil and he has a moment of staring down at the kid, with wild hair and wild eyes and a sort of desperate little look that has klaus's throat tightening. he's seen that look many times in mirrors and on the faces of ghosts.
he breaks into a little smile — a little sad, a little curious and maybe a little awkward. because that question alone implies a hell of a lot, especially when you're asking someone who's been living with — and running from — the dead his entire life. ] Well — that's a good question — [ he looks like he actually considers the question, a hand gently raised to rest on eddie's shoulder. featherlight, and easily dropped away, but klaus had always anchored in tactility. ] — it could be hard to tell. Given all the context of being dunked into some baptismal pool by Gandalf's cousin, but — this wouldn't happen to be your ideal afterlife, would it?