Hershel Layton
@formerdetective.bsky.social
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Retired detective from Scotland Yard. [PL AU]
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It'll be tough, but I'll certainly try. You should too.
(His expression soured slightly.)

Well... my old man can kick rocks. They're in my head, so they're my eyes. I want to love them again.
(He nods.)

I was always surprised when Simon and Nora said they loved my eyes. Dusty rose, poppy red, fire in the sunlight...

(He smiled softly.)

Made me forget for a while...
No, it was.. Alana, I believe... she... seemed to assume I was there to antagonize Vero, or... I don't know...

I'm just glad Vero isn't alone...
(After a short while, he returned quietly.

He dropped heavily onto the couch next to Simon and dropped his head onto his shoulder.)

... she's heartbroken, of course...
(With a somber nod, he stood and made his way out, pulling the door closed with a soft click.)

*Great work, Hersh...*
Cursed...

(He sighed softly.)

It's the only thing I have ever envied Theo for. If they had just been dark like his and Mum's, there would still be a mirror on the Bostonius...
Descole was... my tormentor. He whispered in my ears when I would get into fights as a teen, egging me on.

Simon and Randall made him more frequent, and... Theo's assault and the loss of my family solidified him in my head.

He still whispers, but... less frequently.
(He sat back against the coffee table, quiet. After a bit, he hummed softly.)

I hope life treated you well enough when you went home.
I-I'm sorry... I'm sorry, I'm sorry...

(He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands.)

H-he helped me... I w-wanted to help him i-in return... I-I'm just happy h-he's safe...
Indeed... the stream took an old friend back, and... he blamed himself, as I'm sure all Jean Descoles do.

It makes me think of just how much time our younger selves have together... I can't recall when precisely Simon and I were taken back.
(He grimaced.)

Descole said he couldn't sense him here anymore...

I'm sorry...
(He sighed softly, relieved.)

*Perhaps they don't share memories...*

It's good to see you again, old friend. We've got our smaller selves next to you, so just be careful.
(He blinks for a moment, hand falling away.)

*Descole calls me Layton...*

Desmond?
(He came in and sat carefully for a few long moments before turning to Vero.)

He's gone home... the Stream acted on it's own and took him to his original world... he should be okay but I don't believe he'll be coming back...
(He handed Descole a few tissues as his head began to buzz.

Had they simply been... wiped from their memory..? Wiped completely from this world and their own?

His stomach twisted, and he covered his mouth, breathing slowly.)
(He took a shuddering breath.)

*No... no, are they—*

N-Nimbus Whistlehill, you-you told me you were looking for them...
...

...

Do you want to go home..? See if Nimbus is back there?
(His posture, his expression, his tone don't bode well.)

We do have an update... it would be best if you're sitting, Vero, dear...
(It took him a moment to respond as he steadied himself.)

Can I come in... please..?
Even Nimbus..?

(He steadied himself.)

You aren't a curse. If the Stream took them home, then that's what it wanted to do. You know how it behaves.
(He flinched slightly at Alana's raised voice, but pressed on.)

No, Vero, it's... it's about Marshall.
Mac..?

(Then he hears her. He picks up his voice slightly.)

Oh, Vero, dear, it's Hershel. Is it alright with you and your friend if I come in?
Shit– sorry...

(Shock him it did, but only slightly.)

Talk to me, Des, if you can. Are you okay?
(There's a soft knock at the bedroom door.)

Vero, are you in here?