CHULANE
His father? Yes, he'd been close. He'd helped on the farm that'd been in his father's family for generations, branching out to take up his mother's profession as well, working and living on the family farm, building a life for himself. He'd been encouraged to travel, to expand his horizons, and well… that's exactly what happened. "Mine was a good man too," he nodded along, speaking quietly, not quite willing to go into his past from another world here and now. Perhaps when Deimos was healed, when he was well and conscious and the grief was less fresh, they could learn more about each other.
It had been a hunch, a shot in the dark - and the Chief was gratified when it proved to be true. Inwardly, he chuckled at the notion that he could pit the two men against each other in such a way, and was honestly silently chuffed at his own genius in the idea. He watched closely as the Sword downed the drink, taking the empty glass from him and putting it back on the side-table once it was empty. "Great work." Nodding and lifting a hand to farewell Morgan, he turned his attention back to Deimos. "You can have another glass later. Gotta beat Loren's record," he assured the man, the sheer relief of finding the Sword, of having him here, drinking, resting, safe and hopefully on the road to recovery bringing a smile to his lips, even if the simple expression felt so strange and foreign to his face, especially given recent times.
"You're safe here, Deimos." He was leaning back in his chair, intending on lingering until the man fell asleep or was otherwise occupied. "Rest up."
It had been a hunch, a shot in the dark - and the Chief was gratified when it proved to be true. Inwardly, he chuckled at the notion that he could pit the two men against each other in such a way, and was honestly silently chuffed at his own genius in the idea. He watched closely as the Sword downed the drink, taking the empty glass from him and putting it back on the side-table once it was empty. "Great work." Nodding and lifting a hand to farewell Morgan, he turned his attention back to Deimos. "You can have another glass later. Gotta beat Loren's record," he assured the man, the sheer relief of finding the Sword, of having him here, drinking, resting, safe and hopefully on the road to recovery bringing a smile to his lips, even if the simple expression felt so strange and foreign to his face, especially given recent times.
"You're safe here, Deimos." He was leaning back in his chair, intending on lingering until the man fell asleep or was otherwise occupied. "Rest up."
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
