That Ro's smile is so bright and infectious makes it that much harder to see his sadness dimming it. While Orym is certain he's not said or done anything important, he's glad that it's enough for Ro to feel a little better for tonight, at least.
"I'll have to find someone to complain to if you don't," he threatens playfully. "None of my sisters would forgive me if I didn't at least try it." Lita especially. "I have three older sisters. Triplets," he explains. He can relate to having something to prove. "Not blood, like I said, but I grew up with them. I was the smallest too, of course, but that just made me more determined to do everything the girls and Will did."
Sometimes he doesn't even think about it, conditioned by a lifetime spent together. His name just slips out in conversation like he's still here, like he could wander in at any moment. The joy of his existence, of remembering him, outweighs the sorrow of his passing for at least a little while. Though they are rare, these are Orym's favorite moments. He feels closer to him, somehow. His smile has a bittersweet edge, but it's still warm, and his eyes are soft, lids lowering to focus on the blankets between them.
"He loved skysailing. So if I don't leave Vesrah at least a decent sailboarder, he'd really never let me hear the end of it."
"I was the middle. Two older siblings, three younger." And him still the smallest of all of them once the younger ones hit three or four years old. "Don't need blood to be family."
He doesn't miss the more fragile look to Orym's smile at the mention of Will, and Ro wonders who he is - or was - and why Orym speaks of him in the past tense. But he doesn't need to ask now, because the other man looks happy otherwise and that's nothing to spoil with a darker cloud.
"Well, the advantage of sailboarding is it's not as far to fall," he quips. "Can you swim?"
Orym relaxes back into the hammock's hold, hands folded behind his head. Looking at Ro across from him, feeling their legs brush under the blanket, it really does feel like he's known him longer than a day. He's never this comfortable with people right away. But there's something disarming about Ro, and plenty in both their history and circumstances he finds relatable.
They'll have a few weeks at sea for him to decide if his first impression was right.
"Yeah, I can swim. By Air Ashari standards, I'm pretty good. But I've never done it in the ocean." Which has to be a lot different than the ponds and streams where he learned, and even the bigger lakes he's jumped into since. "I should probably give that a try before I jump on a sailboard."
"We'll take care of that, too. You'll be half aquatic before we send you on your way again." Ro grins and rests his head against the side of the hammock where it cradles him. "With the reefs around Vesrah, there's a few good places to get comfortable before we go past them."
The ocean is a different creature than lakes or river, no matter how big they were. He doesn't doubt Orym will find his legs, though.
"My mother couldn't keep me away from the water, and she tried," he says with a little laugh. "Not that she didn't want me in it. Just not on my own. I'd run for it whenever she turned her back long enough."
Since they met, Ro's painted a few different pictures of how he grew up. This one makes Orym smile, reminded very much of Nel trying to keep him out of trouble. "I'll have a good teacher, then." He already has been, letting Orym shadow and help him out since he came aboard.
"Thanks again for today, by the way," he says, thinking of everything he didn't know how to do yesterday. He'll need more practice, but he's learning. "Makes me feel better if I can pull my weight around here. Even if that's less than most people." That kind of humor hits different when he knows his audience gets it from his perspective, for a change. Literally from his perspective. There's no forgetting that they're small in a world made mostly for people twice their size, which just means they have to work twice as hard.
"Sure," he says with a little shrug, then a grin flickers to life. "Every pair of hands count, even if they're as small as ours."
Ro's used to being one of the smaller people around. He's sailed on a lot of crews now, some more varied than others, but the number of halflings and gnomes taking to the high seas is relatively small, all things considered. He's been delighted to have crewmates his size, or smaller, a few times a year.
"Besides, my motivation isn't entirely selfless," he confesses. "It'll be just you and me on the little boat."
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"I'll have to find someone to complain to if you don't," he threatens playfully. "None of my sisters would forgive me if I didn't at least try it." Lita especially. "I have three older sisters. Triplets," he explains. He can relate to having something to prove. "Not blood, like I said, but I grew up with them. I was the smallest too, of course, but that just made me more determined to do everything the girls and Will did."
Sometimes he doesn't even think about it, conditioned by a lifetime spent together. His name just slips out in conversation like he's still here, like he could wander in at any moment. The joy of his existence, of remembering him, outweighs the sorrow of his passing for at least a little while. Though they are rare, these are Orym's favorite moments. He feels closer to him, somehow. His smile has a bittersweet edge, but it's still warm, and his eyes are soft, lids lowering to focus on the blankets between them.
"He loved skysailing. So if I don't leave Vesrah at least a decent sailboarder, he'd really never let me hear the end of it."
no subject
He doesn't miss the more fragile look to Orym's smile at the mention of Will, and Ro wonders who he is - or was - and why Orym speaks of him in the past tense. But he doesn't need to ask now, because the other man looks happy otherwise and that's nothing to spoil with a darker cloud.
"Well, the advantage of sailboarding is it's not as far to fall," he quips. "Can you swim?"
no subject
They'll have a few weeks at sea for him to decide if his first impression was right.
"Yeah, I can swim. By Air Ashari standards, I'm pretty good. But I've never done it in the ocean." Which has to be a lot different than the ponds and streams where he learned, and even the bigger lakes he's jumped into since. "I should probably give that a try before I jump on a sailboard."
no subject
The ocean is a different creature than lakes or river, no matter how big they were. He doesn't doubt Orym will find his legs, though.
"My mother couldn't keep me away from the water, and she tried," he says with a little laugh. "Not that she didn't want me in it. Just not on my own. I'd run for it whenever she turned her back long enough."
no subject
"Thanks again for today, by the way," he says, thinking of everything he didn't know how to do yesterday. He'll need more practice, but he's learning. "Makes me feel better if I can pull my weight around here. Even if that's less than most people." That kind of humor hits different when he knows his audience gets it from his perspective, for a change. Literally from his perspective. There's no forgetting that they're small in a world made mostly for people twice their size, which just means they have to work twice as hard.
no subject
Ro's used to being one of the smaller people around. He's sailed on a lot of crews now, some more varied than others, but the number of halflings and gnomes taking to the high seas is relatively small, all things considered. He's been delighted to have crewmates his size, or smaller, a few times a year.
"Besides, my motivation isn't entirely selfless," he confesses. "It'll be just you and me on the little boat."