@tresforks  /  :)c ask and ye shall Receive.
   THEY CALL THIS PLACE THE PLANE OF THOUGHT.  cities of gilded steel and glimmering glass, pitch black lanes divided by bright yellow lines, odd absence of other species unlike the material plane. fleur will never truly understand the planar system, given that his schedule doesnât even allow him to breathe through being swamped with work and madness inducing yellow journalism, but he picks up what he can from talking to those that know of it. he talks to lup and barry about the astral plane when itâs appropriate, he asks taako about the ethereal plane on occasion, and sometimes, just sometimes, heâll hear angus reference a plane and get an explanation when itâs recognized that not everyone knows about the planar system.
speaking of the worldâs greatest detective, though.
it had been a rather rough week for him. back to back classes, rowdy students causing a fuss but getting things done after being reprimanded, an upcoming case right after the one he just completed. things arenât perfect after the end of the world was fought back against ( taken from the hands of fate and turned into a victory ) but that wonât stop him from making things right for people who need him. itâs just- sometimes, even he gets too tired to deal with most things.
and his brother, stubborn as he can be, understands this.
however, despite being as hard pressed for time as he is, fleur offered his company and attention without a split second of hesitation to the response. the moment the boy arrived in the near-mansion of a home, he was gathered up into strong and sturdy arms without much more than a few footfalls on carpet as his warning. thereâs a bit of confused wriggling at first, but after a look from fleur, he stops fighting it, instead choosing to rest his head against his brotherâs shoulder. or rather, he tries to.
he soon finds out how comfortable his brother is, remembering how heâs practically a walking heater. thereâs a quiet and alluring melody heâs hearing, the voice of the mage carrying him resembling that of a siren singing of his deepest desire. tension starts to slip from his shoulders and his eyes close, the exhaustion starting to get to him. heâll thank fleur later, perhaps worry over him for potentially straining himself, but for now, he thinks heâll catch a few moments of sleep while being guarded by his maddened brother.
as angus falls asleep, fleur smiles and kisses his forehead.
âsleep well, orui-isâthur.â