10-18-2009, 12:53 AM
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After a few moments, he spotted glimpses of Snake’s sandy-form coming towards the border. Even though they had spent a bit of time apart, the changes in the boy were very evident to Laurel, who for a split second was drawn back to his own youth. He had been Snake’s opposite in every way and form and in some ways, he still was barring the obvious. They may have looked identical, but even Laurel knew there was something troubled deep down in that psyche of the boy who was coming towards him. It was in the way he moved, it was in the way that he was briefly regarded; more so in the way that the steps slowed and that gaze avoided him that he knew. Something, for whatever reason he could not and would not pry into, he could clearly see the rift that was between them. A rift that in Laurel’s mind, would most likely never repair. It was what they shared in common: estrangement.
The way he was even spoke to said volumes to him — despite it’s innocuous presentation, it was automatic and flat — and for a moment, Laurel faltered in just knowing what to say. He wasn’t entirely cut out for being a parent and he knew it. Once upon a time he had been, but now… well, he needed not to think about it. Those were memories better left buried at the bottom of a bottle that had gotten him into this particular mess in the first place. “You’ve grown,” he commented idly, hands finding their way into the pockets of trousers that had seen better days. “You look good.” He tried to spy out the expression he was hoping to see in Snake’s eyes, but it was missing as well; non-existent to begin with and buried partially beneath Nikita’s bandana.
“How’s Inferni treatin’ ya?” he asked, floundering through just what he could say or do. He had followed his son out of concern, led on by some paternal click that had never been entirely smothered. Nikita hadn’t wanted to come, hadn’t wanted him to go, but there he was. Days away from his better half trying to look after a boy who had made it very clearly he didn’t need either one of them. A boy who had left very much in the same way Laurel had when he had been half Snake’s age; albeit it was clear to him that his son had faired much better at travelling than he had.