#whystories

—–    @whystories​ said :         ❛   cook .   present  my  muse  with  home - cooked  food .

          it would soon become an unexpected delight , to have a home to return to when his bones ached and his mind wavered . the home of the gilmores , safe and tucked away in the cloudtop district of emon , has become his new favourite place in exandria now ; a place that truly allows him to put down his burdens and be welcomed by individuals that love him dearly . he always sends word to them beforehand , and always enters through the front door ; partly out of respect of their space , and partly to occasionally pretend that he lives here - sometimes closes his eyes and imagines that all of his belongings stay here and that his partners are always waiting patiently for his safe return . it is only half-true , though it is enough for him .

he shuffles inside , hanging up his travel cloak at the door and removing his scuffed boots whilst taking in the scent of food wafting from the kitchen . the aroma of meat and vegetables and spices tickle his nose , enticing him to wander towards the source of the mouthwatering scent , rapping his knuckles against the doorway to catch the attention of whoever is inside . to no surprise , he finds gilmore inside , bathed in the glow of the setting sun through the windows , lovely and warm and welcoming as ever . to the side , a pot steams atop the table , full of something that is no-doubt delicious , something that could likely feed essek for many fortnights .

" what is this ? " he peaks over the rim of the pot to peer at the contents , contentedly breathing in the melody of smells that waft out , fixing gilmore with eyes that are endeared and adoring . he steps closer , arms slipping around him to hug in greeting . " you will let me clean up afterwards , won't you ? "

this world had changed since she'd last seen it thorn asunder, but that is the nature of things ⸻ forests burn, and new growth springs forth, people die, and more people are born. she'd never found the rigid bounds of arcane magic particularly interesting, her own divine font flowing through her veins the same way a river flows, but she can appreciate the work that goes in the crafting of things. hard, honest work, done by hard working hands, wringing beauty out of everything they touch. she has always been a lover of stories however. radu would complain when lina would ask their mother for just one more, and later on, her head in viserra's lap, listening to tales of conquest and love.

" got it. " the reaction is automatic, and if connor's body required reflexes, it would be a knee jerk reaction. in the span of a blink, he slots holding behind hank, allowing the human to take point. even now that laws have been passed and rewritten that permit androids to carry firearms the same as humans, they still fall into this pattern. hank guarding, connor following. silent and structured, they enter the suspect's home, frustratingly empty.

with a quick and thorough scan of the scene, connor's body relaxes from its stance ready for physical engagement. safe. he reaches out a hand to hank's arm holding his gun steady.

" it is — an interesting pact you have with your own shade of death. there have been few mortals to have risen to the ranks of godhood among my own people. this, however, seems a bit different. are you sure this is wise? "