( he's tired of pacing and wondering if jason is lying drunk or dead in a ditch somewhere, and quite frankly, it's getting late for either of those options. klaus helps himself to rummaging in jason's room, grabbing a worn shirt on top of his mussed sheets before making his way from hellburbia to the hotel.
kol doesn't answer his phone, and he's hesitant to approach his daughter with such a task — it's not her responsibility. however: taking the time to track down his brother doesn't seem worth the time and furthermore, perhaps he should put a little more faith in his daughter, as she's been very keen to let him know she'd like since her arrival.
with that decision, he knocks on her suite door, jason's shirt in hand. )
( everyone come to Hope's. well, Hope's and everyone else's. it is just Hope for the moment. there's something about hell where people don't spend much time in their rooms. like cruise ships.
and what do you know, she's been taking Landon's advice - albeit without her father.
when she answers the door, she answers paint-stained having wiped some on her old t shirt and jeans she'd picked up somewhere. He hair's up in a bun and that paintbrush in the other hand - she's caught being her dad.
( he's not sure what he expected to find, but his daughter painting gives him pause, the kind that grips his heart with an affection that is so strong it pains him. (he feels this way most of the time he looks at her; it's impossible not to be in awe in death just as much as it was in life.)
he exhales heavily, peering past her shoulder to the upright canvas, and says with some disappointment, ) At another time, I would love to join you, but unfortunately I do need your help.
( one day he'll stop looking like that any time she so much as steps into a room. it's a lot to live up to and only sometimes does she feel like she succeeds. )
You need my help. ( that lands -- how it lands, as it would coming from her overprotective tracking her to cult meetings father, but. she's not going to fight. he's not here to fight.
she steps aside. )
Come in. Let me -- ( set this paintbrush down and ... wipe her hands on a rag and try to not looks like this to help him. ) What do you need my help with?
( she has nothing to live up to in order to deserve his love. that is unconditional and never-ending. it pains him to know — to know because of him — she might believe any differently.
he walks inside, takes note of the room and a closer look at her canvas. jason's shirt is still white-knuckled in his grasp. it hasn't been long since he was last here, escorting her back to her room after the veiled order meeting.
he does not regret the lecture; what he does regret is their disconnect. perhaps this is his way of bridging that gap. ) Jason's missing. I need you to do a locator spell.
( It's not that she'll feel she never will, or never could, it's what sits behind his eyes. His awe. She knows she doesn't have to do anything. She knows he's dead. But every time he looks at her like that, she remembers he's gone. Dead and gone.
It's not a disconnect, Klaus, when it's a disagreement between father and daughter. Secretly, she appreciated the attention. She's still independent. Staking her own claim.
Painting her own paintings. )
Jason. Your roommate. ( The surrogate teenager. Maybe it should bring more fire in her belly. Even a little jealousy. But, she's not. She takes the shirt from him, or holds it until he lets it go. She takes the burden.
( he remembers it too. he remembers this might be his only chance to be near her, to be her father. if he cannot meet her in the afterlife... if this is it... he refuses to believe that it is, but to have been pulled and separated from her so many times — to know this with the burden of regret... how can he not be in awe of another chance?
and of her, grown up? standing on her own two feet?
he suspects she did: appreciate the attention. there has always been an earnestness about how hope argues with him; a longing to do so. he can't help but know there's plenty unsaid between them; he searches her eyes momentarily as she speaks of jason. he lets her take the shirt, passing it off without hesitation. ) There are maps in the library.
( If she longed, it was because her father had it in his mind he needed to stay away. And that is still something they haven't discussed at length. )
Then it's us, with the map. In the library. ( A second of tension passes between them. It's not her best work. She's not the funny friend in the super friends for the record. ) Just - let's go to the library.
( And find this map. It's a side some people don't see. Hope's dark humored, silly side. It's probably not something her father has seen. Not really. The joke lands with a thud but it still feels good to be dropping it. )
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backdated to august 14th.
Date: 2020-08-22 07:40 pm (UTC)kol doesn't answer his phone, and he's hesitant to approach his daughter with such a task — it's not her responsibility. however: taking the time to track down his brother doesn't seem worth the time and furthermore, perhaps he should put a little more faith in his daughter, as she's been very keen to let him know she'd like since her arrival.
with that decision, he knocks on her suite door, jason's shirt in hand. )
no subject
Date: 2020-08-22 07:44 pm (UTC)and what do you know, she's been taking Landon's advice - albeit without her father.
when she answers the door, she answers paint-stained having wiped some on her old t shirt and jeans she'd picked up somewhere. He hair's up in a bun and that paintbrush in the other hand - she's caught being her dad.
Sort of. )
Did I forget out plans we made?
no subject
Date: 2020-08-22 07:53 pm (UTC)he exhales heavily, peering past her shoulder to the upright canvas, and says with some disappointment, ) At another time, I would love to join you, but unfortunately I do need your help.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-22 07:57 pm (UTC)You need my help. ( that lands -- how it lands, as it would coming from her overprotective tracking her to cult meetings father, but. she's not going to fight. he's not here to fight.
she steps aside. )
Come in. Let me -- ( set this paintbrush down and ... wipe her hands on a rag and try to not looks like this to help him. ) What do you need my help with?
i didn't get this?? thanks dw
Date: 2020-08-22 08:50 pm (UTC)he walks inside, takes note of the room and a closer look at her canvas. jason's shirt is still white-knuckled in his grasp. it hasn't been long since he was last here, escorting her back to her room after the veiled order meeting.
he does not regret the lecture; what he does regret is their disconnect. perhaps this is his way of bridging that gap. ) Jason's missing. I need you to do a locator spell.
damn it dw
Date: 2020-08-23 03:47 am (UTC)It's not a disconnect, Klaus, when it's a disagreement between father and daughter. Secretly, she appreciated the attention. She's still independent. Staking her own claim.
Painting her own paintings. )
Jason. Your roommate. ( The surrogate teenager. Maybe it should bring more fire in her belly. Even a little jealousy. But, she's not. She takes the shirt from him, or holds it until he lets it go. She takes the burden.
She'll do this. )
I need a map.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-23 04:30 pm (UTC)and of her, grown up? standing on her own two feet?
he suspects she did: appreciate the attention. there has always been an earnestness about how hope argues with him; a longing to do so. he can't help but know there's plenty unsaid between them; he searches her eyes momentarily as she speaks of jason. he lets her take the shirt, passing it off without hesitation. ) There are maps in the library.
no subject
Date: 2020-08-24 02:24 am (UTC)Then it's us, with the map. In the library. ( A second of tension passes between them. It's not her best work. She's not the funny friend in the super friends for the record. ) Just - let's go to the library.
( And find this map. It's a side some people don't see. Hope's dark humored, silly side. It's probably not something her father has seen. Not really. The joke lands with a thud but it still feels good to be dropping it. )