Skulduggery laughed for the first time since leaving the church. The sound had the same velvet quality it always did, even if the laugh itself was a little rusty around the edges, a touch uncertain, like maybe he hadn't quite earned the right yet. "Forget a thousand years ago. Remember some of what was going around in the seventeenth century? Or the sixteenth?"
Skulduggery had been raised to be respectable, and elegant fashion was a pleasure he'd never quite given up. Or really, even started to give up. But becoming a sorcerer had offered him a unique perspective on things; specifically about how short-lived and ridiculous most of the fashions of the time were.
"I drew the line at those ridiculous wigs," he added with one last chuckle. It was a shame cameras hadn't existed back then. Drawings and models just didn't do those wigs and those canes and those ostentatious jackets justice.
~~
Ghastly was now well past the point where he could make proper connections, and so Dad backhanding him on the shoulder took the tailor completely by surprise. The shock was substantial enough to further hit home exactly what the grizzled old man was saying, as well.
When logic and reasoning wasn't a part of the equation anymore, Ghastly agreed with the analysis wholeheartedly. Skulduggery was defined by that experience in ways Ghastly had always picked up on and wondered about, but never known the reason for. Skulduggery didn't accept help for personal burdens, either. He never had. The one time Meritorious tried to instigate mandatory counseling sessions through the Sanctuary after the war, he'd given up on getting Skulduggery to cooperate within a matter of hours. No one had been surprised.
When logic and reasoning were no longer factors, a small part of Ghastly was startled to realise that nothing much stood in the way anymore. Not of the anger, or the betrayal, or of - God help him - forgiving anything. But of going back to talk?
Something had been strong enough to draw Skulduggery back to the right path, the right side. It didn't matter what, there was something. Something the detective deemed important enough to fight for. In the face of that... what was really stopping Ghastly from giving his oldest friend the benefit of the doubt? It was a difficult sentiment to catch, but catch it Ghastly did. Firmly. Hoped to save it for when he slept off the stupor, could think clearly again; hoped it would be strong enough to survive a reboot through the resurfacing logic once again. This was much too important to overthink.
"He's good." Thinking out loud was probably not the best way to go either, but the doubt didn't even occur to Ghastly just then. "He's a good guy. Lot of nasty stuff happened to him, but..." Another long gulp, another glass finished. "The guy I remember didn't deserve a lick of it. The guy now, I just... I don't know."
The fact that he was saying all of this to a total stranger, and one who seemed entirely too accepting of some of the things Ghastly had said, didn't particularly matter. The remarks, the advice, the look in the man's eyes and the grin he'd been sporting before they began drinking, were all combining in one pleasant memory swirl in Ghastly's head. At that moment, the man who called himself 'Dad' was the most important person in the world. Because somehow, someway, he understood.
no subject
Skulduggery had been raised to be respectable, and elegant fashion was a pleasure he'd never quite given up. Or really, even started to give up. But becoming a sorcerer had offered him a unique perspective on things; specifically about how short-lived and ridiculous most of the fashions of the time were.
"I drew the line at those ridiculous wigs," he added with one last chuckle. It was a shame cameras hadn't existed back then. Drawings and models just didn't do those wigs and those canes and those ostentatious jackets justice.
~~
Ghastly was now well past the point where he could make proper connections, and so Dad backhanding him on the shoulder took the tailor completely by surprise. The shock was substantial enough to further hit home exactly what the grizzled old man was saying, as well.
When logic and reasoning wasn't a part of the equation anymore, Ghastly agreed with the analysis wholeheartedly. Skulduggery was defined by that experience in ways Ghastly had always picked up on and wondered about, but never known the reason for. Skulduggery didn't accept help for personal burdens, either. He never had. The one time Meritorious tried to instigate mandatory counseling sessions through the Sanctuary after the war, he'd given up on getting Skulduggery to cooperate within a matter of hours. No one had been surprised.
When logic and reasoning were no longer factors, a small part of Ghastly was startled to realise that nothing much stood in the way anymore. Not of the anger, or the betrayal, or of - God help him - forgiving anything. But of going back to talk?
Something had been strong enough to draw Skulduggery back to the right path, the right side. It didn't matter what, there was something. Something the detective deemed important enough to fight for. In the face of that... what was really stopping Ghastly from giving his oldest friend the benefit of the doubt? It was a difficult sentiment to catch, but catch it Ghastly did. Firmly. Hoped to save it for when he slept off the stupor, could think clearly again; hoped it would be strong enough to survive a reboot through the resurfacing logic once again. This was much too important to overthink.
"He's good." Thinking out loud was probably not the best way to go either, but the doubt didn't even occur to Ghastly just then. "He's a good guy. Lot of nasty stuff happened to him, but..." Another long gulp, another glass finished. "The guy I remember didn't deserve a lick of it. The guy now, I just... I don't know."
The fact that he was saying all of this to a total stranger, and one who seemed entirely too accepting of some of the things Ghastly had said, didn't particularly matter. The remarks, the advice, the look in the man's eyes and the grin he'd been sporting before they began drinking, were all combining in one pleasant memory swirl in Ghastly's head. At that moment, the man who called himself 'Dad' was the most important person in the world. Because somehow, someway, he understood.