What day was it? What time was it? Well, daytime, evidently, because it was too damned bright. Grumbling, Ashmedai got up and shook himself.

Bad idea.

He turned and vomited... er... tried to vomit. Apparently he had emptied his stomach earlier. Fine, then. The only solution was to drink more. As they- who? Ash, of course- say, the only real cure for a hangover is to drink more.

Ash made his way through some fermented fruits, just enough to feel less bad and there fore more better. That was the logic, anyway.

Now feeling better and on the farther end of tipsy, Ash was ready to start the day.

It was taking time to adjust to there being a pack around him again. A pack that wasn't his to command. Perhaps he'd get the hang of it and perhaps not. He could make peace with either scenario now that Rhythm was safe and his legacy would live on through Chaos. Knowing the slavers would soon be dead certainly didn't hurt his mood either. Pleased with the state of things, Valentine bounced over the border and into the Orchard. He wove through the brambles with ease and paid little mind to the thorns that raked his coat. He was in a good mood and it showed. The stink of vomit slowed his frisky trot to a cautious walk. Following his nose he pushed through some brambles...and spied the culprit. Ashmedai was looking a little rough to say the least. So Valentine told him so. "You look like shit, son."

Honestly, Ashmedai thought about making his way to the brambles. There were more varieties of fruits there, but it was also more dangerous. Damn... choices were too hard when you were already drunk. At least if he drank a lot, the thorns wouldn't hurt him until he got sober again anyway.

Ooh! That was a familiar voice! Ash turned, sloppy grin showing the tips of his canines.

Uh oh, it was Dad.

Ash tried to straighten himself a bit, but his shit-eating grin remained.

"Well, I feel like shit," he confirmed a little too giddy for the words coming out of his mouth. "And you look old."

Valentine was impressed to say the least. It was winter, pretty much everything was dead, and yet somehow Ashmedai had managed to find enough souring fruit to get drunk on. By the stink about him Valentine guessed this wasn't his first round. While he could appreciate having a good time it was easy for one to develop a craving for the effects of fermented fruit and Valentine loathed the idea of one of his children falling into that trap. Excessive drunkenness was a weakness and no different than say, cowardice or excessive benevolence in his opinion, so while he didn't have enough information to convict his son of it, Valentine was nonetheless wary of what he was seeing. "Aye, ten years on this planet does that to a wolf," he said dryly. He narrowed his eyes at Ashmedai and eyed him up and down. "So I take it things have gone downhill for you since we spoke last," he said more as a statement than a question.

He could feel his father judging him and swallowed silently, trying to dismiss the feeling. He was an adult. He had fared long enough without his father. He was doing well for the most part. He had a pirate gang! He hadn't been murdered or kidnapped or whatever else could happen. Why did he need this man's approval, he wondered.

"Things haven't been all downhill," he protested. "Just one part was a nice sharp cliff and maybe the rest was an uphill battle."

He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to relate to his father- never did. He didn't feel like going to him with his feelings or troubles, and any fun he had he was sure his father would roll his eyes at.

Suddenly, he was the troublesome pup again and his father had caught him out of the den late at night.

"Sparrow's dead," he said dryly. "But apparently Rhyme's there- in case you didn't know."

He didn't expect his father to sympathize with him, which is why he changed the topic in the same sentence.

"I'm sure whenever I get back to the band, Rhys will be glad to know her brother's still kickin'... Although I didn't make time to talk to him yet."

He rotated between topics, not really leaving time to settle on one. Whichever one Valentine wanted to talk about would suffice.

Valentine's expression was unreadable as he listened to Ashmedai protest his characterization of the time since they'd last seen each other. He had half a mind to stubbornly cling to his statement and quash his curiosity over his son's cryptic statement. There was no need, however, as Ashmedai quickly dropped what Valentine thought might be the "sharp cliff." Being oblivious to their history, he wasn't quite sure why exactly Sparrow mattered to him. Her death certainly didn't matter to him. She'd been just another Destruction clone as far as he knew. Too meek, apparently, to fight for her pack when that plucked-from-god's-ass guy had taken over and too Destruction-y, probably, to be worth remembering. Honestly he wasn't even sure which one she was. Probably a niece of Rhythm. The mention of Rhys tossed away all thoughts of Sparrow and Rhyme, who he'd known had been roped into Abaven for some time now. Instantly Valentine's veiled expression shifted to keen interest. He hadn't seen his daughter in years. What should have been a question came out as an incredulous statement, "Rhys is alive." Valentine didn't know where to start. He had so many questions and the tumultuous state of his thoughts showed on his face. "How is she?"

To Ashmedai's relief, Valentine took the bait and decided to ask about Rhys. For some reason, Ashmedai had never considered Rhys or Rhyme dead. To hear Valentine's astonishment was somewhat a surprise. He guessed his father was a pessimist, but maybe there was more to the story.

"... Should she be?" Ashmedai asked, his brows knitting together.

Valentine asked how she was and Ashmedai didn't know how to start.

"Well, all the other band mates call her Wrath if that's any indication," he said, not really sure what all to talk about. "I assume she and her nephew are probably getting into all sorts of trouble without me there to keep them in order- although maybe they cause trouble to keep me in order instead."

He dropped this hint of his offspring gingerly. He was awfully proud of the little life he had carved out, far away from home and even as an adult, he had a small pit of fear in his gut that his father would be upset or disapprove. Honestly, all of this was kind of a buzzkill, despite it being nice to talk to his father.

"Should she be?" For a moment Valentine stared at his son like he'd sprouted a third eye. Should she be what? After a beat it clicked. He hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud, that his surprise at learning Rhys had reconnected with other members of their family and still not managed to make it home once had seeped out. Wait, wait, wait. What? Okay, the nickname bit made sense; Rhys had been in possession of a hellish temper since puppyhood. But what about a nephew? He had a nephew? More importantly...this sour-smelling drunk in front of him had a kid? Given Ashmedai's current state Valentine was inclined to become enraged on the kid's behalf and yet...he knew he didn't know enough about the situation to justify that reaction. Ashmedai had said Rhys was with the boy, which meant (maybe) that he had seen to his child's needs before...whatever this was. Still, Valentine was ready to pounce should his son confirm his suspicions. Now he was torn. Which tantalizing piece of information did he go with, the daughter he hadn't seen in years or the grandson he'd just learned about? "That sounds about right," he murmured in response to Rhys' nickname. After a beat Valentine settled on a course of action. "It seems I'm out of the loop." He eyed Ashmedai. "Best get started on explaining, don't you think? Otherwise we're going to be awhile. I want to know about the kid, I want to know about Rhys and you know what? Fine, I want to know about these pirates. Why the hell not. Let's make this a day, hm? You're going to have plenty of time to talk since you aren't going to be eating anymore fruit while I'm here." His gaze became pointed. "And I'm not going anywhere until I'm satisfied."

"It seems I'm out of the loop," Valentine had said, earning a gulp from Ashmedai. He wasn't really used to his dad being all... chatty.  "I want to know about the kid, I want to know about Rhys and you know what? Fine, I want to know about these pirates. Why the hell not. Let's make this a day, hm?"

Ashmedai had to resist the urge to sigh when his father explained that he wasn't going to be able to get more drunk while they were talking. He was already coming down off of his inebriated state and to be honest it was kind of a bummer. Not that he wanted to pass up the opportunity to brag to his father, but the risk involved was the if his father didn't approve, Ashmedai would know right away.

He didn't really have a choice, though, did he?

Ashmedai settled, "Alright," he said warily, suddenly sounding his actual age. "Where should we start?"

Ashmedai intended to give him just the highlights. He didn't need to know everything.

"So, after Imperium- ya know- stopped, I went away for a bit. I came back, learned that Mom was dead, did some soul searching, ended up in a short-lived pack of an ex-Abaven member, Tyranis. That was a joke, typical for someone who came out of Abaven... uhhhh...."

Ash's eyes searched the imaginary space in front of him as he searched his memories. After that...

"I left and kind of took up piracy. Sometime between that, Rhys popped in. Made a name for herself. Sometimes she's with us, sometimes she's off. That's kind of the nature of the band. You name it, we've taken it- including hearts which inevitably led me to having a litter with another member of the band. We call her Lust. Remind me to never bring her around anyone in our family. We're better lovers than mates so- uh- yeah... free agent still. But we raised the litter right, they're all grown up more or less."

There was so much Ash could say, but he was trying to just hit the cusp of it.

"Uh- in the main portion of the band, there's always Lust, Envy, Wrath- Rhys, Greed, Sloth, Pride, Gluttony. The leader is called Balance, but I killed the last Balance, so I guess that's me now. Everyone calls me King, though. Wanna be our new Pride? The current one pisses me off." Ashmedai tried to make a joke, but it didn't work out too well.

"In the rotation, we keep Humility, Compassion, Temperance, Chastity, Patience, Charity, and Diligence. They get swapped out a little more, though, mostly keeping our relations good after the main seven of us go and wreck everything."

That was... a lot and Ashmedai wasn't the best at having linear conversations.

"You still following?" Ashmedai asked.

To further underscore how serious he was, Valentine seated himself and made a show of getting comfortable by kicking his hind legs out in front of him. He wouldn't move so much as an inch until he'd run out of questions and if Ashmedai thought he could weasel away or munch on something while they talked he'd find out fairly quickly how wrong he was. He let Ashmedai say his piece without once attempting to interrupt him. His son had a lot to say and he went back quite a few years to get started. Inwardly Valentine cringed at the mention of Imperium. If he could do it all over again he'd avoid that bastard that had given him the plague and maybe things would have ended differently. Maybe he'd have kept his head. Maybe he'd had sent search parties out instead of going after Rhythm and Rhyme on his own. Ugh, bleck. Thinking of those months was a surefire way to send his mood to the pits so Valentine tried to focus on Ashmedai's story. Pirates. Mischief. Rhys. Grandson. Pirates, mischief, Rhys, grandson. Finally Ashmedai was done and Valentine was left to try to digest this tangle of information. Wryly, he wondered if the reason Ash was so willing to part with so much so fast was because he was desperate to be rid of him. "More or less," he answered wryly. "It sounds like you've done well for yourself." He studied his son again, this time speculatively. "So what's next for you? Or are you just..." He trailed off as he eyed their surroundings. "Content with where you are now?"

Why was he sitting? Oh, did he HAVE to get all comfy? Trying not to betray his thoughts, Ashmedai plopped his butt down with a few flops of his tail as if to challenge his father's resolve. Valentine thought he could sit and chat all day and- well- Ash could certainly talk all day. Could his father keep up? He doubted it. Ash had always been chatty and being being secretive wasn't ever something Ashemdai cared for unless he was specifically being vindictive.

His father said Ash had done well for himself and while Ash agreed, he didn't really think his father thought so. Well, saying it out loud was at least a small win. Valentine asked what Ash's plans were next, throwing in the possibility for being content. Ashmedai half held back a scoff.

"Me? Content? Never." Ash said with a lopsided smile, "Although I'm rather satisfied with most of it."

His smile lingered a moment. How much should he tell his dear father?

"Part of the reason I came was to see if I thought the crew would do well here. I'm... still unsure. Since, the whole getup is kind of... about stealing and running around having a good time."

Ashmedai tried to phrase is cautiously. His father wasn't a goody good by any means, but that didn't mean that in his old age he would approve of his son running around raiding packs and slaves just to turn around and trade them for other goods and fun.