"Whatever will I do now that you know about my exceptionally interesting parents who ran accounts all their lives and only died of old age?" Weiler groaned around a smile, spinning away from Locke to bring a wrist to his forehead. His parents, had they really been watching, would have been surprised. Weiler had never really joked around so freely with them, though he had never been quite serious either.

Hand falling to his side at the thought, Weiler paused before making his way to the stone markers at the head of his parents' graves. There wasn't much to be done in terms of upkeep (the monthly fee withdrawn from his parents' legacy accounts saw to that) but he reached out and brushed some old snow and branches off the top with the side of his sleeve nonetheless - the first and probably the last of small gestures from their wayward son, who had taken a while, but finally managed to burrow a place for himself somewhere in the System.