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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Post by Spira on Dec 1, 2021 13:34:46 GMT
A series of short scenes | journal entries written by Stasia Noba and DeVian Law, as they try to navigate parenting their nephew Kiran. Occasionally entries written by Kiran himself will appear here... without further ado.
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Post by Spira on Dec 1, 2021 15:05:20 GMT
THE ARRIVAL
She locked the iron gate to her studio and stepped back, slipping the keys into her faux leather jacket; turning on her heels she made her way down the three steps and seven more before she was at her 'baby'; a near blinding shade of ice blue the Suzuki AEM Carbon Fiber Hayabusa grabbing the appropriate set of keys out of her other pocket, she retrieved her helmet and without much ceremony slipped it on - this had been a condition from Marjorie, that she take at least one safety precaution; lest she crash or was crashed into and needed to seem a little more like a human. Starting the engine and hearing its purr made Stasia giddy with joy. She ignored the vibration of her phone, cared not to hum the song that usually accompanied her sister's calls. Verin could wait, Stasia getting home? No.
Stasia was as some humans would put it 'dangerously reckless' on the roads, then again the looks that she got from the other commuters as she sped past was nothing but envy - and for those who knew what bike she was riding the silent wish that she'd die so that the bike could be 'taken out of her hands' in a 'legal' manner. What would have taken thirty minutes for any sane person instead took the Electricity Aikekunai ten minutes. Pocketing her keys again and taking her helmet off she began to make her way towards the internal door inside of their car storage area when the persistent calls of her younger sister finally began to bother Stasia.
"What do you want?"
"Kiran is staying with you for a few days. Tell DeVian I'll pay for the damage."
Before she could ask for anymore details - like why Verin felt the need to just drop off her son at close to midnight, she could hear the front door bell ringing. Taking the route back out of the garage and up the steps, past the garden, front lawn and towards the front door her eyes settled on her nephew who was in mis-matched pyjamas that were entirely inappropriate for winter. Stasia scowled, Kiran was barely three years old and looked about as lost as she suddenly felt; she scanned his surroundings... Verin had in her haste to drop her son off had completely forgetten to pack anything for Kiran to wear or for the matter his weapon. What the hell was her sister thinking?
"Hey kiddo."
"Aunty!"
"Shhh. Let's get you inside. Your aunty is sleeping. If you keep quiet whilst I find you something other than the hideous cotton you're in. I'll let you have some ice cream."
As she hoisted her nephew onto her hip and unlocked the door with her thumb and a scan of her retina, the door opened and swung shut silently behind her - she could hear the locks activating and the house going into sentinel mode; always prepared for an attack. Kiran nestled his head into her shoulder. Rather than heading for the guest room meant for 'guests' Stasia walked up the stairs - depositing her helmet on the hallway table and walked immediately towards DeVian's study - mostly to check if she was awake, and if she was then she was going to mad, if not then Stasia could then technically deposit the kid on the couch and call Marjorie to go grab supplies. Tapping on the mahogany, she placed her ear to the door and listened; no sound... she opened it just a crack to make sure. Stasia had hoped to see no one, but instead her wife was sleeping on the desk two bottles of wine beside her and a half empty glass. Putting Kiran down, Stasia looked to her nephew who looked up at her expectantly.
"Wait here. I need to put your aunty to bed. Double ice cream and a movie."
Kiran nodded, unlike with DeVian who he was an utter demon towards - Stasia could at least rely on the fact that Kiran and her had a type of transactional relationship. She offered and he accepted, it kept him out of her hair and it kept her from demanding that Gahbreal whisk Kiran away and taking full custody of her nephew - regardless of whatever Verin had to say on the matter. She stepped over the rug, and past the balls of paper that sat around DeVian's desk. Gently repositioning her wife so that she would be easier to carry, Stasia shut the lights off and quickly finished the wine, reorganised the desk into something orderly and finally taking DeVian to bed. Kiran followed obediently.
DeVian woke in the early morning to a cold bed, she had heard Stasia come home... so where was she? Slipping out from under the covers and putting on a bath robe she walked out of their joint master bedroom and walked down the hallway towards the stairs, her ears focused in on Stasia speaking - who was she speaking to? Deciding to make her way there, careful not to make any noise she came to a stop outside of the guest bedroom where she could see Stasia sitting on the bed, chatting to a three year old who was listening attentively. It had been some time since DeVian had seen Kiran, he had shot up in height since the last time she saw him, right now he was tracing his fingers over Stasia's arms - stopping occasionally on another patched of coloured skin. Stasia seemed to answer the kid's questions without hesitation.
"How many of these were with aunty DeVian?"
"Take a peek at my back, you can pull the shirt away a bit."
Kiran did just that, he had found it absolutely fascinating that his two aunts had been together for so long over so many lives. He was met with two inked on eyes that looked like no eyes he had ever seen before.
"Those eyes belong to one of your aunty's past lives. Amarjeet. One of my own lives, her husband Lucas had them done as a protection from evil."
"Evil?"
"Yeah, he thought they would keep him safe, scare off the enemies."
"Is there one for just Aunty Dev?"
"Yes, her halberd is on my thigh and I've got her hands here." His aunt gestured to somewhere hidden out of sight
"What's the mark on your finger?"
"Oh it's one I got, well one my first ever life got when he married your aunty."
"Will I have one too when I meet my soulmate?"
"Yes."
"I hope they're big and brave and strong."
"They might just be small and weak."
"Then I'll protect them! Just like one of aunty's lives."
"Qrow." Stasia murmured.
"Yes! Qrow! I'll grow big and strong and be like Qrow."
"Your Aunt would be so proud."
She hadn't even realised she had moved the door until Stasia and Kiran both looked at her. She backed away and wanted to go back to bed.
"Why do you wear the bracelets, I've never seen you without them."
"So I don't hurt you or your aunty."
"Oh."
DeVian wanted to make a comment, but stopped herself and continued to back away. She could always ask Stasia about why Kiran was here to begin with. Returning back to bed and pulling the covers up she soon fell asleep. When she was next awake, Stasia was fast asleep by her side; the bracelets had been removed and were resting on the nightstand, DeVian moved closer to her wife and watched as their shared marks - invisible to all but the two of them moved under Stasia's skin like a river of words, something that both of them had realised soon after their marriage once upon a long long time ago was that when one of the parties was asleep the other could communicate with them through their skin, she gently blew on Stasia's skin and the otherwise miscellaneous swirls and curls formed words. Here for a few days. Verin on mission. I owe him two bowls of ice cream and he promises to be good. He wants Pão de deus for breakfast. Marjorie will deliver it. I already made arrangements to take the next few days off so that you won't be left alone with my nephew for any longer than five minutes... Resting her cheek against Stasia's arm to let her wife in on her own internal thoughts - it felt like static electricity and a bit of a heart attack to be fair for the both of them, but as quickly as the exchange had happened it was over. DeVian went back to sleep glad somewhat in the knowledge that Stasia had things sorted.
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Dec 12, 2021 16:21:25 GMT
Post by Spira on Dec 12, 2021 16:21:25 GMT
Secret Language
She placed the plate down; the scent of beeswax candles and incense consumed the wind that surrounded her and for a small moment Stasia found herself at peace with the world. Standing up, she dusted herself off; she had never loved wearing a kimono – not since that day all so long ago. Alas, she couldn’t ignore the need to come back to her roots, though she knew she was Scandinavian.
“Sometimes, I feel like a traitor.”
Verin’s voice permeated the silence, the younger of the sisters reached into the woven basket that she had brought with her retrieving the plate of baked mooncakes, filled with black sesame, mung bean, lotus paste and salted egg.
“By technicality we should not be related for you look more like our father.”
“And yet, here we are Katze.”
“Aye, Wolfling.”
Both sisters had returned to the Noba’s home territory of Osaka the day prior, mostly to be polite but also to then make their way towards the family’s burial place. Hidden somewhere in the wildness of Hokkaido, the sisters had reassured the family retainers they would not freeze to death from the cold and had even dressed in their thickest kimonos for the journey towards the particularly dreary graveyard where so many Noba before them had been laid to rest. “Kiran is coming later, isn’t he?” “Yes, I wanted him to see.” “See what? The corpses of our adopted family members.” She snorted “About that.” Verin inhaled They both bowed as they moved onto the next grave site, this one was for some male ancestor from seventeen generations ago. “I found our birth mother.” Stasia dared not look at her sister, dare not acknowledge what it was that had just been said, she hadn’t ever bothered with the thought that her – their birth mother was still alive. She didn’t want to know… after all the woman had not bothered to try to fight for them, had not bothered to do anything – refused to name them. After depositing another plate – this time dried slices of yuzu tucked between airy layers of vanilla chiffon cake. “She’s… not who you think she is.” Verin tried to start again Stasia moved further away from her sister and towards the pagoda – a place that listed the names of Noba members whose bodies could not be found or retrieved, the only reminder they had ever existed was the fact that their names and their approximate age covered the black marble in shades of gold, silver, bronze and white (supposedly denoting how they had died or supposedly been destroyed). She placed her hand gently on one of the tablets. There, in silver was a name that had first unleashed her potential as an Aikekunai.
Stasia, aged 5
“これを見て それらの中のあなたの古い名前の多くを見つける。 恥、あなたは私たちを救うために体を離れることなく死に続けたこと。”
[See these. You'll find lots of your old names amongst them. Shame, that you kept dying without leaving a body to spare us.] “Old names?” She had responded in English, she braced herself for the sharp pinch that accompanied every single time she failed to speak Japanese with her ‘father’, as soon as the pain was done with, he picked her up so that she could see the names clearly – not all of them were in Japanese, some of them were in English. Her father who waited rather impatiently below began to lower her when her gloved fingers reached out and touched one name. Wisteria it was in bronze. At first glance, one would not have noticed the sudden shift in Stasia’s demeanour, would not have noticed her heart begin to pound erratically as the pain of being swallowed in smoke and the element of death encompassed the little girl. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came, instead the sensation of something – no someone prodding her mind began to filter through Stasia, her mind usually silent began to buzz with activity as names, places, memories came crashing into the yet-formed child. Suddenly, Stasia was no longer there on her ‘father’s’ shoulders but rather in a space not quite considered reality. A group of people stood in a line, all dressed rather differently but all of them had the same smile – her smile on their faces. “Bonjour mon petit.” “Can she even understand French?” “Hengitä syvään. Älä pelkää. Me olemme Sinä. Tai me olimme Sinä. Olet nyt me.” [Girl, take a deep breath. Do not be scared. We are you. Or we were you. You are now us.] Sounded the man who was the least dressed of them all, with what appeared to be green stripes on his skin, in fact she blushed for he was tall and rather handsome. He cracked another smile before lowering his rather gigantic frame down to her size so that she did not have to crane her neck so much. “Minä olen Eric. Toinen elämäsi.”
It was strange because if she had been a normal child, none of this foreign speech would be making any sense to her; yet it did because what the man said was true. He ran a hand through his own mane of hair before placing that same hand, rough and worn from battle on her tiny shoulder. Now that she was a little less nervous the others lowered themselves onto their knees or bent down in the same manner as this man Eric. “Esittelen meidät. Oikealla puolellani olevan miehen nimi on Arthur, kutsumme häntä artiksi. Hänen takiaan olemme olemassa. Kaveri minun vasemmalla, on Godfrey; sinä ja hän tulevat toimeen molemmat teillä on sama nenä. Lyhyempi mies on Lucas.” [Let me introduce us. The man at my right, his name is Arthur; we call him Art. He is the reason we exist. The fellow to my left, is Godfrey; you and him will get along both of you have the same nose. Shorter man is Lucas.]
Eric paused, giving Stasia a moment to look at each of the people in turn, she nodded for him to continue. “Tärisevä tyttö on Wisteria, jonka nimen löysit ensin. Hän ei puhu. Pelkään liikaa. Kuoli kauhean kuoleman. Viimeisenä mutta ei vähäisimpänä. Jillian, hän on ilkeä. Älä välitä hänestä. Olemme osa sinua. Pidämme sinut turvassa. emme petä sinua enää.” [The shaking girl is Wisteria, the name you found first. She doesn’t speak. Too scared I'm afraid. Died a terrible death. Finally. Jillian, she's nasty. Don't mind her at all. We here are a part of you. We'll keep you safe, we won't fail you again.]
“Je ne suis pas si court. D'ailleurs, sait-elle si Amarjeet va bien?” “How is it I can understand you all?”
“Our skills carried down to you. Unlike the rest of the world, you’ll not be starting from scratch.” Lucas switched to English after realising that for Stasia it was her preferred language. It was just as quickly that all of this faded away and Stasia was back on the floor beside her father, she shook her head and tried to figure out what it was her father had just said about this Wisteria person. “Tá sé ina luí. Ná éisteacht. Ach nod.” [He is lying. Do not listen. Just nod.] Came the quietest voice that Stasia had ever heard. It had come directly from the woman who Eric had said was too scared to speak, more than anything suddenly Stasia wanted to know what had happened to Wisteria for her to be so afraid… for her to be in so much pain.
Presently
Kiran kicked at the snow, after it had been explained that he was to accompany his mum and Aunty Stasia to Japan – without Aunty DeVian. He had thrown such a fuss that DeVian had been dragged along for the sake of keeping everyone (mostly Kiran) sane. She was unused to the cold and unlike the Noba who were dressed in what she had to guess was Japanese finery; DeVian was in the thickest coat and most technologically advanced snow boots she could get her hands on. As they trudged on, Kiran occasionally bending down and forming balls in his hands to fling at different headstones. DeVian shifted Kiran in the direction of Stasia and Verin – who now noticed were having a heated discussion, was Stasia crying? Frowning she adjusted Kiran once more so that he was now able to get his hands on enough solid snow to be able to make something artsy (she could only hope). “Passa-se alguma coisa de errado, amor? Porque estiveste a chorar? Devo distrair o fedelho mais um pouco?” [Is something wrong love? Why have you been crying? Should I distract the brat a little longer?] “Estou bem. Apenas notícias inesperadas. Diz à Kira para fazer anjos na neve.” [I'm fine. Just unexpected news. Tell Kiran to make angels in the snow.] “What is with the sudden switch to Portuguese. You know I can’t understand it.” Verin grimaced. She had always been particularly envious that it was the only language that her sister could speak that she could not even begin to comprehend. Kiran’s head tilted as though in understanding. The shorter of the Noba women had also noticed quite clearly that as time went on that Kiran enjoyed spending more and more time in DeVian's company than even her own and there was some maternal part of her that hated that feeling. She gestured for Kiran to approach - to give her a hug but when the boy refused to move she scowled venomously at her sister in law.
"Odeio quando ela me olha assim."
"Brilliant, who taught him Portuguese."
"He picked it up himself." Stasia muttered
"How?"
"Spent enough time eavesdropping that he eventually caught on."
"He's three years old!" Verin hissed
"And in those three years he's also taken up Swedish, Japanese, German and Vietnamese."
To say she was astounded was an understatement, moving this time to legitimately pick Kiran up Verin whispered something that neither DeVian nor Stasia could hear but Kiran's reaction was somewhat immediate based on the fact he began to kick and squirm as if to escape his mother's grasp. Stasia sighed, however rather than going to Kiran's aid she came to a stop near DeVian - who looked about ready to murder Verin so they could leave. Wrapping one of her arms around DeVian as best she could, Stasia rested her head on her spouse's shoulder.
"At least she's making an effort with him. Our mother didn't even try."
"You think this is effort?"
"No but it's Verin."
"Marjorie would flay Verin alive if she knew."
"I am asking you to keep this a secret. It's apparently shitty enough that our nephew has the same linguistic tendencies as we do."
"She's just jealous that in all the time he's spent with us he's become more well-rounded than she."
This caused both to light up with the want to laugh, though neither did as Kiran finally free of his mother's grasp ran straight into a tombstone, the sound itself wasn't so much a concern but rather the impact. Instead of crashing headfirst into the tombstone that was shaped like a tree; Kiran bounced off it and began to float. Both DeVian and Stasia looked at each other has Verin began to shriek at Kiran to get back down. Fortunately for the youngest Noba-Law present, Stasia was quite capable of jumping at a sufficient enough height that after two attempts - one failed because of the angle, the second because Kiran accidentally sped his floating up a tad bit more. He was back in DeVian's and Stasia's arms crying and fussing like any human infant would.
"Ridiculous."
"With that attitude of course he's going to be like this."
"Odeio-a, ela é um monstro. Quero ir para casa. Quero Arroz de Pato, por favor Tia, Leve-me embora."
[I hate her, she's a monster. I want to go home. I want Arroz De Pato please Aunty take me away.]
That seemed to make matters worse, before anymore disaster could befall the outing. DeVian, whisked Kiran away, leaving the two sisters to glare at each other in the middle of a snow covered graveyard; the revelations made earlier in the day no matter for the two distinctively pissed off women.
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kaiju
Sigmutt's Wife
109 posts
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are you passing the vibe check?
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last online Nov 8, 2024 16:07:12 GMT
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Post by kaiju on Dec 17, 2021 7:58:15 GMT
a family dinner Stasia wasn't answering the phone. Again.
DeVian hung up the phone in frustration, barely restraining herself from throwing it at the wall. Time and time again she had asked for fair warning whenever Kiran was to be expected, and time and time again she did not receive it. Just last week the little shit had been on their doorstep like a bouquet of demonic flowers. There were more days in the week that DeVian had to expend energy into making sure the boy didn't grow up like a parentless shit than weren't. It was draining, to say the least.
While on one hand she could understand Stasia wanting to keep the boy far away from Verin's fucked up sense of motherhood, it was more of a strain than DeVian had intended. There wasn't room in their lives for a child before they had forced there to be. It took a toll over time that DeVian still struggled to reconcile with. Before, the worst arguments they had felt so trivial. Now it felt like a lot of their arguments could be attributed to differing opinions on how to raise the son they never planned for.
He sat across from her now almost expectantly, dangling his legs from one of the chairs that sat at the kitchen island. He smiled at her, completely unbothered that she only met him with a frown.
"Where's Auntie Stasia?" His legs dangled some more. Sometimes Dev could see Stasia's innocent smile reflected in him but mostly he was nothing like her.
"At work," the Brazilian woman ground out through her teeth.
"When is she coming back?"
"Dinner. If I'm lucky."
"Ooh, what are you gonna make? Can I help?" Big, brown eyes lit up with joy at the prospect of being able to help one of his favorite people in the kitchen. Except for how spicy it was sometimes, he loved eating auntie Dev's food. He knew by now, though, that it was best practice not to complain about the spiciness of her food to her face or anywhere in her vicinity. Out of all the ways he enjoyed getting under her skin, he knew for a fact that was one that would likely lead to real physical harm.
"Do you think just because I'm cooking I have enough for you?"
"Well yeah."
"What makes you think that, little boy?"
"'Cause Auntie Stasia would be mad at you if you didn't make enough for me."
Dev snorted at the implication. Thinking better about having an argument with a child, she turned towards her fridge to rummage through its contents. She hadn't planned on spending some of her precious hours alone with Stasia's nephew, but it wasn't like she could put him out now, either. It would be getting dark out soon and he didn't have so many alternative places to go. It was in moments like these where she wished she had paid more attention to Marjorie's lessons in patience.
"I'm making Pastel de Queijo," the Desdon woman finally relented enough to answer. From her fridge she pulled the dough she had prepared earlier in the day and a plate of vegetables waiting to be chopped.
"What's that?" Kiran asked, dark eyes widening at all the ingredients he watched be produced.
"You'll see." She turned on the sink and wet her hands, glancing back halfway through to see Kiran still staring expectantly, his eyes twinkling. She rolled her own and jerked her head towards the bathroom with a, "Go wash your hands, you little gremlin. Then I'll let you help."
He squealed excitedly and ran off around the corner. DeVian could hear the water running and him humming some song. He came rushing back into the kitchen almost fast enough to go crashing into the island. "I'm done!"
She assessed him for a moment. His hands were damp, pure joy dripping from the huge grin plastered on his face. He probably really did wash them, but he was a kid, and she didn't trust it. With an annoyed sigh, DeVian washed his hands with him again at the kitchen sink before picking up an apron to put on him. He was much too small to fit into it and she had to fold it over almost twice to keep it from dragging on the floor.
"Can I cut the peppers?" Kiran asked, looking up at his aunt through dark locks of hair.
"Not in a million years, alrededor. Just watch. I'll tell you what to do." Spanish, runt
This was the longest he'd ever listened to her. At least that's what it felt like. She couldn't tell if he was going to try to screw her over later, but it was safe to say she was suspicious of him. It was all she could do not to count the minutes until she could expect Stasia home.
As Dev began chopping up bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, and cilantro, Kiran watched wide-eyed beside her. She hadn't noticed immediately, but he was... literally beside her. Hovering several feet off the ground. She did a double take when she looked at him, making note of the use of his abilities with a 'hm' of acknowledgement. Perhaps if she didn't make a spectacle of it he wouldn't either.
They cooked together for the next few hours with a system of DeVian doing most of the work until there was something clear-cut and simple for Kiran to contribute. In one case, she let him put the vegetables in olive oil for her to saute. They started making the sauce for Camarão no Leite de Coco together. He said taking the tails and shells off of the shrimp felt weird, which they both agreed over. She let him press some of the dough for the pastels into the correct shape. He was happy to do it at first but slightly deflated when he compared his to his aunt's. After grudging encouragement, he tried a few more times.
"How's this one?" the three-year-old asked. He had folded his dough over the ingredients gently this time, pressing the edges together earnestly. They weren't the best by any standard.
"Want me to be honest?" DeVian asked, brows arched up to convey a sense of being unsure.
He grimaced. "Yes?"
"This one's your best one."
"Yes!" He pumped his fist in the air to celebrate. "Me too! How can you do yours so nice with those claws?"
The smirk that appeared on her lips was genuine. His excitement was becoming contagious no matter how much she tried to avoid it. She looked at her nails at his reminder, wondering how he got to thinking of them as 'claws'. It was kind of funny.
"Practice," Dev informed the boy after a stretched moment of considering her answer. "It's something you get better at the more you try it."
"Okay, I can practice."
"How, if I don't let you in the kitchen?"
His whine of protest pulled a genuine laugh out of the woman. He had been more docile in the last few times she'd seen him, she had to admit. Usually she could expect him to be sneakily destroying something while she was too busy cooking to notice. What she could attribute this change in behavior to, she wasn't sure. It felt almost taboo to try to figure out why.
"What do you want for your birthday?" Dev nonchalantly asked her nephew.
"A tiger," he answered effortlessly.
This drew a quizzical brow from the woman. "¿Para qué?"
"To eat my mom's face off."
She failed holding in her laugh this time. "To what?!"
"To eat my mom's face off. She's mean."
She laughed more wholeheartedly, banging her fist on the counter as she got further into the giggles. He only cracked a grin after she didn't stop for a long, stretched minute, but he was serious about what he'd said. That only made it funnier.
"What if the tiger eats the wrong mom's face?" she finally calmed down enough to ask.
"So?"
"You wouldn't care if it ate Rensai by accident?"
"No, 'cause then I would have to come live with you."
"Eh, I'm not sure if I want a little boy named Kiran."
"Well Auntie Stasia would."
"Did she say that?"
"Yup."
"When?"
He shrugged. It was obvious he was trying to come up with a lie but couldn't quite mask it well enough. DeVian was about to chide him some more about it when the loud crashing sound of bottles and body weight sounded from the living room. Kiran jumped, startled, and Dev looked up to face whatever had reacted the noise. There wasn't fear of a threat because no one could be dumb enough to try to attack her in her home.
The dark-skinned woman wiped her hands off on her apron and ventured around the kitchen island. Though she kept her composure, her right hand was poised to summon her halberd at any moment.
"Owwwww..." The groans emanated from the living room in a voice that was familiar to both the death Aikekunai and her nephew.
"Ritunen." Dev rolled her eyes upon seeing him crumpled up next to one of the couches with several empty liquor bottles in his immediate vicinity. The labels and colors were different, indicating he'd drunk some of everything.
The dark-haired male smiled lazily at her in return, expression reflecting slow confusion when he recognized Kiran rounding the corner behind Dev.
"Huh??" His words slurred as he picked himself up to sit upright. "Why's the kid here? I thought it would be just you."
"So you come crashing in reeking of... What is this, anyway?" She leaned down to pick up a bottle, frowning at the label and tossing it back at him. He caught it easily just an inch from his face. "Ay, ay, I swear... Verin dropped him off earlier today."
The man groaned extremely loudly for dramatic effect. "Okay, so put on some cartoons for him and let's go have, ah..." He glanced at Kiran. "Adult time."
She chuckled at his attempt. "Why the rush, papi?"
"Why the hesitation?"
"You stink, Uncle Rit," Kiran piped up from behind Dev. Both adults turned to look at him after he'd spoken, almost surprised he'd said anything at all. Then again, he had a special talent for being extra rude whenever Ritunen was around.
The drunk man groaned at that. "One day, kid, you and me... No mercy."
"We're cooking." DeVian raised her brows pointedly at Ritunen, earning an icy glare from the Sytagen before she returned back to the kitchen with Kiran in tow. The first batch of pastels were done. She was proud of them. They were golden brown and made the house smell delicious, the aromas of peppers and shrimp wafting through the open areas. Consulting the clock above the stove, Dev figured the soup should be done by the time the next batch of pastels were.
Though she had no idea when Stasia would be getting home because her hours were so unpredictable, this wasn't as much of a nightmare as she had anticipated. Kiran actually wasn't being a demon. With Ritunen here, it almost felt familial. The idea prompted a wistful smile from Dev.
"Smells good," Rit announced from his spot in the living room. He had sunken into the couch and was too comfortable to move now. Nonchalantly, he began rifling through the bottles that had accompanied his teleportation to see if any still had liquid in them.
"My food is always good," Dev grumbled under her breath.
"We made pastel de... Um... past... Come look!" Kiran beamed after giving up on pronouncing the words, going over to the tall, poisonous Sytagen to rouse him with shoves. Ritunen resisted at first but Kiran remained persistent, chanting "Come look! Come look!" the entire time.
"Fine, fine - get off me." He pushed the boy off and rose to his feet, lurching towards the kitchen before finding his drunken footing again. Icy blue eyes made contact with light hazel ones, Dev offering him an encouraging grin from the kitchen. He was close enough to the island to see the first batch of pastels waiting and the soup boiling on the stove when suddenly--his legs were wiped out from under him and he found himself crashing face first into the ground. He groaned with strained breath on the floor for a long second before the sound of Kiran's piercing laughter filtered in through the fog in his brain. There were a few moments that passed before the distinctive sound of DeVian's laughter joined it as well.
"What... the fuck...?" Ritunen forced out when he finally found his breath.
"One day, old man," Kiran retorted mockingly. When Ritunen looked at him with murder in his eyes, the little boy turned and disappeared down the hall. Dev's laughter continued after the exchange. Ritunen picked himself up, dusting off his clothes in annoyance, and turned the same glare on his significant other. It only made her laugh harder.
"You told him to do that?!" the dark-haired man demanded. He looked over his shoulder to sweep the room for any trace of Kiran before advancing. Finding that the boy was really gone, he finally came to a rest beside the kitchen island.
"No," the woman answered, though she still had syllables of laughter between her words, "but I kind of wish I did. Then I would've recorded it."
He lips took a downturn into a frown. "Ha ha. So funny."
"Stop pouting. Open your mouth." She grabbed one of the still-hot pastels and held it up, smirking as she waited for him to follow her instructions. He did so grudgingly, which earned her pushing the fried food into his mouth to take a bite. When he did so, she took a bite of his pastel after him and made a 'hm' of approval as she chewed.
"You didn't let the kid, like... piss in them or something?" Ritunen tentatively questioned after swallowing his bite.
"That's disgusting. No, I just let him help around and shape some of them."
"That must be why half of them looked so fucked up." He shrugged and reached for another one, which forced Dev to slap his hand away to chide him. "What? Come on, I'm hungry. Let me have one."
"Wait! It'll be done soon if you can find some patience."
"Patience is boring." They made eye contact from for a challenging second before he lunged for the plate of hot pastels. Dev physically put herself in his way but found herself quickly overpowered by him. He basically picked her up and moved her several feet away--which she didn't know how to respond to other than in shocked silence. Reaching for another pastel as a token of his triumph, he was taken completely offguard to find himself tumbling through the air because DeVian had opened a void portal to push him through just to avoid him eating more of her unfinished food.
Dev sighed to herself and shook her head after he was gone, muttering about how annoying it was that he tried to eat everything before it was gone. She returned to the kitchen to tend to her food. The silence was a welcome retreat. Kiran was running around somewhere and Ritunen would surely be back sooner than later. For now, this was peaceful. She figured a nice glass of wine would pair well with it.
Twenty more minutes passed, in which DeVian prepared white rice by her lonesome to pair with the soup. No sooner had she turned the stovetop on simmer and leaned down to choose a wine bottle than the loud sound of an explosion rattled the base of the house. Dev's gaze traveled to where she figured it originated: upstairs, probably towards the master bedroom. She growled under her breath. It could only be Kiran! What the hell could he have gotten up to?
The dark-skinned Brazilian woman ripped the apron off from around her waist and made for the stairs at full speed. She had only just made the first landing when the front door swung open and Stasia walked in, motorcycle helmet tucked under her arm and a quizzical expression on her face.
"What was that noise?" were the white-haired woman's first words as she watched her wife sprint up the stairs and out of sight. She advanced further into the house with a light shrug, figuring whatever it was would be dealt with. The house smelled good and she was naturally drawn to the kitchen. She found a pot of rice on low simmer and a batch of what looked like doughy pastries frying. Stasia glanced back up the stairs to see if DeVian was returning. There was no sign of her, so the electricity Aikekunai shrugged to herself a took the pastels out of the oil because they looked done enough. Turning, she found a plate with at least 8 finished ones, and looked up the stairs to check for Dev again. Comfortable in the thought of getting away with it, Stasia grabbed a pastel and took a hearty bite. It was delicious. The designer decided she should probably see what the commotion was about and moved towards the stairs, craning her neck to see around the landing when the sound of DeVian yelling met her ears. In Portuguese, no less... Stasia quickened her pace until she was at a light jog as she arrived in the master bathroom.
"¡Debería haberlo sabido mejor antes de apartar la vista de ti por un segundo!" DeVian yelled. The bathroom was an explosion of colors, powders and containers and sparkles all over the damn place. Stasia was confused for several stretched seconds as she tried to figure out what had happened. Kiran was standing in the middle of it all, holding a tube of lipstick in one hand and a palette of contour in another. Dev was livid, which made sense. It seemed the explosion was most, if not all of, her makeup items. There was a drawing across the dual mirrors in several shades of lipstick. Kiran had lip gloss in his hair. There was foundation all over the countertops and highlight on the floor. (Portuguese, I should've known better than to take my eye off you for a second!)
"Auntie Stasia!" Kiran exclaimed at seeing the woman, running across the ruined floor to find protection in his tall aunt's leg's. After hugging her, he hid behind her and peeked out only the slightest bit to see Dev's reaction. It only made the livid woman advance on her wife with deferred anger.
"No te atrevas a intentar decirme que esto fue un accidente," DeVian seethed. "¡Este maldito demônio é o garoto mais fodido que eu já conheci!" Portuguese, Don't you dare try to tell me this was an accident... This damn demon is the most fucked up kid I've ever met!
Stasia threw her hands up in surrender. "Hey, my love, I understand where you're coming from, just--"
"Se ele não sair da minha vista nos próximos três segundos, vou fazê-lo desaparecer." Portuguese, If he is not out of my sight in the next three seconds I'm going to make him disappear.
"Come on, Kiran," the pale woman relented, backing out of the bathroom slowly. Once they were clear she picked up the young boy and retreated back downstairs. How she could salvage this situation, she wasn't sure. It definitely started with separating Kiran and DeVian for now.
"Tsk, Kiran, why'd you do that?" Stasia asked the boy once they were alone in the living room. He was covered in various shades and colors of more products than she could name. He only shrugged in response. "Stay here." She figured if she could wash him up, maybe Dev would be less incensed when she next saw him.
Stasia shook her head to herself as she tried to consider what her next moves could, leaving Kiran in the living room to stew in his mistakes--at least she hopes. She was pleasantly surprised to see Ritunen in the kitchen, chowing down on one of the pastels Dev had made mercilessly.
"Hey," he said in greeting with his mouth full of food. Stasia returned the acknowledgement with a lightly raised brow and head nod. "Heard the kid fucked something up again."
"Must've learned something from you."
He snorted and continued munching on his food, looking up only because DeVian came flying down the stairs. Her eyes widened at the sight of him paired with her depleted plate of pastels. The dark-haired man offered a loose smile as he swallowed with a, "Dinner's ready."
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
2 likes
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Dec 25, 2021 14:52:08 GMT
Post by Spira on Dec 25, 2021 14:52:08 GMT
Ice cream & moving in
Kiran could do nothing but hold his arms up in front of his face as the kids kicked at him, laughing. His new white shirt was ruined, covered in puddle water and dirt as he was relentlessly beaten by his new ‘class mates’, he had no idea what he had done to deserve any of this but it still hurt nonetheless. He dared not cry out, dare not shed a tear anymore. This had all started over a simple game of soccer. Kiran had unintentionally pissed off the most popular kid in the class named Bryan, by winning two matches without assistance from the rest of his team; and now Bryan had placed a target on Kiran’s head. In fact, Kiran could peek between his arms as Bryan brought over a bucket filled to the brim with sand, sticks, stones… other things from the sandpit in the corner, where were the teachers? Why hadn’t anyone stopped this? The kids shuffled out of the much taller kid way, there was a whisper that Kiran did not quite hear and before he knew it, his arms were being ripped away and his head was being dunked into the bucket. His mouth filled with sand, the sticks scraped at his skin and and rocks dug into his eyelids. This time he screamed as his head was lifted up before being pushed back into the bucket… he swallowed sand and that caused more laughs as the kids started calling him a sand eater. A familiar sound of an engine being cut off, the zip of a leather jacket coming undone, near silent steps told Kiran that his aunt was approaching, just as his head was about to be dunked into the bucket for the third time he heard what could only be described as an arm being snapped in two and Bryan screaming in pain. The rest of them scattered, Kiran fell to the side and coughed and retched the sand back up, his face covered in fine cuts and his body racked with sobs from trying to be brave. “Come near my nephew again, touch him ever again and an arm broken in four places won’t be your only concern. Got it?” “I’m gonna tell my dad! He’s friends with the chief of police!” “Yeah, you do that. He won’t believe you.” “Yes he will!” Bryan tried to sound brave, when he was in agony. “Tell him my name. Stasia Noba. See if he’ll care then.” With that Stasia bent down and an inhuman sound came out of her, she cursed in something Kiran had never heard before, but it sounded ancient and powerful. His aunty reached into her pocket and retrieved her cotton handkerchief, she handed it to Kiran and he began to wipe his mouth of the vomit and spit, her fingers touched his face and he felt the usual sensation of her ability kicking in, he thought it felt like feathers but apparently for some other people it could feel as bad as being forced to swallow glass – this information was curtesy of asking Uncle Ritunen about it. “Can you sit up for me? I need to examine the damage.” He did as he was told, wincing as the world seemed to spin, he also finally noticed that he had a massive gash above his brow bone, Stasia batted away the handkerchief and instead ripped part of her shirt off and using that scrap to press it against the wound. He blinked away the tears. She began to murmur again in the same tongue that she had seemingly cursed in and he felt what could only be pure electricity shoot through his skin, mending and erasing the damage. “How how did you do that?” “The term is ‘Revene.’ The ancient term for reverse. It’s used as a basic healing word. It comes from the house of Origui.” “Life?” “Precisely. Does it hurt anywhere else?” He shook his head, he knew that his Aunties and Uncles were special, they had words that they could use as they went about their day; Aunty DeVian had even promised that if he was extra good that she’d teach him some of the ones she used, it seemed at least for Aunty Stasia she wasn’t afraid to use the words in front of Kiran but only where necessary. He opened his mouth to thank her, she shook her head; she personally wanted to kill Bryan and the rest of the petulant shits. Helping Kiran up, he found himself hugging his aunt as she patted his matted hair. “We’re gonna have to stop by the shops. If DeV sees you like this. She’s going to destroy the school and the surrounding areas with her halberd.”
“Can we get ice cream?”
“Sure kiddo. Come on.” He followed closely behind her, amongst all of the things he considered his favourite it was getting ice cream with his aunt Stasia, the way she smelled and the way she seemed to not give a shit about anyone or anything that got in her way. She handed him her helmet which he took obediently; shoving it on his head as she started the engine back up. Climbing on once she was seated, he wrapped his hands around her waist and knotted them so that he wouldn’t somehow fly off – it was something that Aunty DeVian had reminded him to do, seeing as Stasia did not obey traffic laws.
As they sped off and away, he shut his eyes and told himself to focus on keeping his hands tight, sometimes he was brave enough to open his eyes and watch the world go by, today after Bryan? He didn’t feel so brave anymore.
Kiran had always been amazed whenever he had the privilege of seeing his aunt’s studio, his jaw dropping at the pieces that were in progress; most of them he realised were modelled by his mother, and when not modelled by his mother were being made for Aunty DeVian. She knew his measurements by heart now, and quickly made up an exact replica of the shirt that he had been wearing when he had left the house that morning, after he had cleaned himself off – Stasia had told him there was no way in hell he was going to wear his new shirt dirty. Now that he was dressed and his hair was back to clean and fluffy, they embarked on their next trip to their local ice cream shop. Kiran could barely wait as he stepped up to the displays and looked at all of the flavours, he could never quite decide what he wanted at any given trip. Scanning the new monthly flavour, his Aunt in the meanwhile was outside on the phone speaking rapid Japanese; he heard Bryan’s name being mentioned and something about his father being fired. “What would you like?” “I don’t know… I can’t pick.” “How many scoops?” He looked back his aunt who was holding up three fingers. THREE SCOOPS! His grin became even wider as he looked back at the shop attendant. “I think I will have the mega mint chocolate, French Vanilla and…” He looked back to his aunt who mouthed ‘Lemon curd Custard’ he nodded and then pointed to the last flavour he wanted to try. “I also want the Rocky road. My aunty wants the Lemon curd custard and…” he glanced back “The strawberry cheesecake please.”
“Any toppings.”
“Rainbow sprinkles pretty please and some chocolate chips too if there is any.” He handed the shop attendant his aunt’s credit card as Stasia stepped back in and stopped just behind him, he was handed the card back, which he promptly returned just as Stasia was given the two different scoops, they picked a booth by the back of the store, as he licked at his sugary sweet treat his feet swung back and forth. “Want to talk about it?”
She was asking about the event she had stopped earlier, he knew there wasn’t any point in hiding anything from his aunt. Once he had made his way through the first scoop of rocky road. He wiped his mouth on one of the serviettes. “Bryan is the most popular kid and I beat him in soccer. He got mad that his winning streak was ruined. Then it started.”
“Do you like the school?” “Not really.” “It’s only your first day. Do you see them becoming a problem?” “Yes.” “We’ll transfer you out if you want. Find another school. Or you can be home schooled.”
“I’d like to give it a week. Then I’ll move if something else happens.” He licked at the second of the flavours as his aunt nodded, accepting his terms. Once they were both finished he thanked her with another hug; she murmured something under her breath that he did not quite hear. Kiran realised quickly that Stasia was taking him back to his parents home when they did not turn the usual way back to his aunts home. Was something happening?
As he handed her, her helmet back he looked at his Aunt who had gotten off her bike, shut off the ignition and was going to walk him to the front door, she was about to knock when the sound of furniture being tossed caught both of their attention. She shoved him behind her and took out the pair of scissors that she usually hid in her hair, the third ones were usually tucked inside of her left boot. “Stay here. If I tell you to run. You run next door and you call Aunty DeV. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Stasia touched the doorknob, which ordinarily would have been locked when she found it to be unlocked she frowned and swung the door open as quietly as she could. The sound was getting louder as more furniture seemed to be thrown about, Kiran watched as his aunt stalked into the hallway, scissors at the ready. He was ready to run as soon as she told him to but when she lowered and relaxed her stance, he wondered what was going on. Stepping in behind her, he was met with the scene of his parents throwing furniture and an assortment of objects at each other, the only reason there wasn’t any screaming was because they were too busy trying to kill the other with household objects, most of them were deflected by Rensai with gravity.
“Vai buscar roupa suficiente para uma semana. Vens para ficar connosco.” [Go get enough clothes for a week. You’re coming to stay with us.] He ran up the stairs and began to pack like a maniac as he heard his aunt scream at his biological parents, he wondered why she even bothered. His parents were unpredictable and he wondered how and why they were still married considering all of the fights they had over stupid things.
As he returned downstairs, the furniture was no longer being thrown instead, both of his mothers were pegged against the wall with knives, scissors and other sharp implements probably because of his aunt. “Kiran. Love. How was your day?”
“Kiran go wait outside for me.”
“彼を盗んだのか? また?”
[Stealing him away? Again?] “二人と一緒にここに残すよりはマシだ あなたたちは無責任で、彼はそれを必要としません。” [Better than leaving here with you two. You two are irresponsible and he doesn’t need that.] “ビッチを盗む子供。”
[Child stealing bitch.] “Jag har kallats värre. Lär dig att bli bättre föräldrar och kanske ger jag Kiran tillbaka. Tills den dagen kommer men ni båda kan ruttna.”
[ I have been called worse. Learn to be better parents and maybe I'll give Kiran back. Until that day comes however both of you can rot.]
Kiran didn’t want to hear the rest, whenever his aunt spoke Swedish… like when Aunty DeVian spoke Portuguese he knew it was better to clear the area and hide until the storm was over. Once they were home, his aunt helped him to move his clothes into the room he had started to call his own, the floor was covered in toys and art supplies, and there were posters on the wall. He fell onto his dinosaur bedspread and watched as his aunt folded his clothes.
“Can you teach me other words.”
“Maybe, what words would you want to know?” “I dunno… something useful.” “‘Hindral’ means ‘to hide’ or ‘to be hidden.’ It makes you less noticeable. It's a word that borrows from both the Contus and Woxia.”
He played around with the word in his mind, he wondered if they worked if you only thought about it.
“You have to say it, and there must be an intent for it.”
He was completely off, when he said it the first time and Stasia found herself laughing under her breath as he continued to play around with the pronunciation, when she was certain he was about to give up she gave him some pointers. She thought it was ridiculous that her sister and Rensai wanted to keep Kiran clueless about his claimant heritage and what he was capable of... hell the kid had literally forgotten except for moments of sheer panic that he had control over gravity. She supposed if he was going to stay with them, she was going to have to teach Kiran some words to use.
"Enough words today. Two is enough. Now, come let's go see what your aunt is up to."
Kiran kept mulling over the words in his mind as they walked out of the room and towards his aunt's study – he had realised soon after that Aunty DeVian loved working at home most of the time and that it was only Aunty Stasia who worked outside of home most days. Stasia knocked gently before stepping in, Kiran waited before doing the same thing. His dark haired aunt was busy chatting on the phone whilst being cuddled by his blonde haired aunt, he waved. Not wanting to cause anymore stress, he turned on his heel and left for the backyard. As he did he could hear someone in the kitchen. Uncle Ritunen.
"Hello squirt."
"Hello uncle."
"Usually you're calling me idiot, stinky or something else. What's up?"
"Had a bad day at school."
"Ahh. Want to help me with dinner then. You could help me make the pasta."
Ritunen asked as he poured another dash of white wine into a simmering pot of red sauce. Kiran set about making the pasta, washing his hand in near scolding hot water and soap, he sprinkled the flour onto the counter and got to work, they worked in companionable silence, occasionally switching places so that Kiran could inspect the sauce and try it out. Whilst he didn't like uncle Rit as much as he loved his aunts he knew that the man was there to stay and therefore it was ok sometimes not be a little terror.
"I didn't like school either."
"You never had to go."
"No but I understood what it was to stick out like a thumbtack. The pasta machine is in the bottom drawer. Could you get out the rigatoni attachment out."
"I think the sauce is missing a bit of salt."
"Yeah thought so. Do you like parsley?"
"Can't tell what it tastes like to be honest."
"Ok."
Kiran sat at the dining table alone as his uncle took a tray with two plates on it over to his aunt's study where both of them were still, digging into the rich marinara sauce with scallops, prawns, squid and he guessed crab, he savoured the taste of the chilli. His uncle walked back in and served himself before sitting across from Kiran, his uncle liked to pour a little bit of additional olive oil onto his own serving and a squeeze of lemon – Kiran hadn't the slightest clue why his uncle thought the need to add things like that to a perfectly good meal.
"You know your aunts love you."
"I love them too."
"Is it true, the papers."
"Huh?"
"DeVian told me you placed adoption papers on her desk this morning."
He didn't know how to answer so Ritunen took that silence as an acknowledgment and continued eating. Once both were finished, Stasia returned the dishes before disappearing again... Kiran then wondered if he had made the right decision placing the papers there for his aunts to see and to talk about... what if they didn't want him? What if his taking a risk in order to be seen as the legal son of his aunts was the wrong choice? What if they hated him secretly and this was their final straw? He walked towards the study, picking at the skin around his fingers as he tried to build up the courage to knock... maybe he should run away and become someone else's problem. As he stood there, trying not to back away the door opened and he was met with Stasia who smiled and stepped aside to let him in. He realised rather quickly that aunty DeVian's desk was empty of its usual items and instead the only thing left on the desk were two pens and his adoption request papers. He looked at both before picking up the papers, he began to flick through on all of them he noted that his Aunty Stasia had signed them whereas his aunt DeVian hadn't yet; supposed he should have seen this coming. He looked at his aunt, she had picked up the pen and was playing with it in her non dominant hand, he bit his lip.
"I can't go back. Please be the parents I need."
"I've already agreed, now it's up to your aunt."
"Please mum?"
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
2 likes
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Post by Spira on Dec 29, 2021 5:00:23 GMT
Visitation
Kiran's jaw had dropped when his uncle Rit had driven up to his new school he had recently started attending; in his Mercedes–Benz SL Class in Thulite Red.He had been waiting by the front gate talking to two of his classmates named Andrew and Calvin, when the two pointed it out; seeing as most of the cars that pulled up were more 'family friendly' more... soccer mum types with those doors that slid to and from, with carpets that soaked up all manner of liquids. None of the kids has batted an eye when Kiran had introduced himself, hadn't batted an eye when he mentioned that he lived with his aunts, hadn't even laughed when he said that one of his aunts was technically also married to another man. He had thought that today would be like every other day, he would be picked by his Aunt who would blow the minds of any kid who was interested enough in bikes. As Ritunen skilfully dodged the larger vehicles before coming to a stop at the very front of the pick-up bay. One of the windows lowered and his aunt took her sunglasses off, her eyes pinpointing him immediately.
"Woah, you must be rich." Calvin blurted
"Rich? He's not just Rich. He's rich-rich. "
"This is normal."
"This is the middle of Italy. That car is not normal."
"Are you coming Kiran or do I need to come and get you?"
"Even his mum sounds exotic."
Calvin had recently learnt the word exotic and was therefore inserting it into every sentence he thought the word was necessary for. As Kiran picked up his leather school bag, waved goodbye to both of his classmates and walked towards the car, as he did he couldn't help but notice the stares and glares; at this rate the only thing that could make this more of a scene than it already was; was if his uncle got out of the car. Thankfully, that did not happen and he was able to get into the back seat without issue, his uncle hadn't even bothered to say hello, merely just sped off as soon as the buckle was in place. Usually his uncle was a stickler for traffic rules – on account of mum being fearful of the speeds that his other mother sped about, but for whatever reason he was speeding towards the direction of the airport and barely giving Kiran any time to get used to his surroundings as his blonde haired maternal figure tossed him a brown paper bag, the contents being a bacon and cheese croissant, an apple and two bottles of juice – one blackcurrant and the other pineapple. Perhaps they were going off on an impromptu trip or off to pick up mum from the airport and hence the speed. But his mother had chauffeurs a plenty... the realisation hit him just as they cleared the private aircraft portion of the international airport.
"Visitation weekend."
"Correct, surprised you didn't say something sooner."
"Do I really have to go? What will I even do? What will we even talk about?" "It's the only way the judge would approve of your request remember. At least until you are sixteen." "That's nearly ten years away."
"Kid you promised. Remember, you go away for two days and 'we'..." Ritunen was referring to all three of his parental figures "Get a break from you and you get to decide for two days how to torture the two ladies whose blood you carry." Stasia butted in "Besides, it's not going to be that bad. We'll be in the next city over and you have enough funds in your account to get you back here if things really do go so badly. That and you have DeV's pilots on speed dial."
Kiran really was resenting ever agreeing to that judge's conditions. As they got out of the car and he was handed his passport and led up onto the plane, his aunt followed right behind him; her phone in hand and a look of utter annoyance upon her face – he was guessing something had gone wrong, after all Paris fashion week was in less than a week. His uncle came aboard soon after (Ritunen had to collect literal assurances that his car would be taken care of and that it would be in the same condition he left it.) Once all three were seated and Kiran has been reminded to eat, the plane lifted off without a hitch, as soon as he was finished (and he had swept the crumbs off of his freshly ironed and dry-cleaned uniform) he was given another outfit, this one a little more relaxed and a little more him by his aunt (which he promptly changed into, seeing as his aunt didn't have the best temper during weeks prior to and after certain fashion weeks). Once he was dressed and she had told him to fix his hair (which he also quickly restyled, with the assistance of his uncle) he was forced to sit silently without the tv on and wait for the last thirty minutes of their forty-five minute flight to be over with. He tried looking at the clouds but that quickly got boring and his uncle was sleeping on the couch with his headphones on. He sighed.
"I really don't like being anywhere near them."
"Trust me, I know. I can tell. But they promised to be nice and we promised we would let you visit when we thought it was most convenient."
"Can't I go with you to Milan? To Paris? Help at the shows? Isn't mum also going?"
"Just for an opening and also to make sure Versace and Prada kept their word in regards to her shoes."
"Her heels? Aren't those torture devices?"
"Something like that but they make her feel powerful and you know how your mother likes men and women alike to fear her."
"Please, I won't survive. They'll make me eat that stupid thing again."
"I told them you were on a diet."
"You did?"
"Yeah."
"Well then what can I eat?"
"What you want and if they protest, send me a text."
At least he knew he wasn't being utterly abandoned by his aunt, who gave him a look that suggested that if he behaved and if he did not put up too much a fuss to spending time with his actual parents that they would have a long marathon of ice cream and games to make up for it. His uncle now woken from his nap cracked opened the wax seal off a bottle of amber coloured liquid that looked like whiskey but Kiran wasn't sure. As their plane got closer and closer to the Netherlands, Kiran could have sworn his stomach was about to explode...
"You know once upon a time, ice cream dates were a thing between Verin and I."
"Huh?"
"I stopped doing them with her, in exchange for doing them with you on account on my sister being a total bitch."
This was a story he hadn't heard, he leant towards her as she began to recount the reason ice cream had become what it was to her, why she went on dates with his biological mother and how it was meant to at least Stasia thought it was: a chance to remedy an otherwise really shitty situation with something so sweet it'd be easier to shut her eyes that night. His aunt had never really spoken of her past, the days in the program, and so for Kiran it felt like he had been given a book with everything but the first chapter missing. As the plane began to descend back to Earth, Kiran began to tell himself to calm down, he could feel his head begin to spin and his heart begin to hammer. As soon as the engine was off and the door was opened he began to wish he was back at school learning about space and the planets rather than here at that moment being half led, half carried out by Ritunen who was saying something in the same ancient tongue he had yet to learn.
His mother was standing there in a bright lime coloured vinyl jacket, her hair and makeup done to perfection – Kiran sometimes forgot that his mother modelled for a living when not giving out orders and being a nightmare, Rensai in the meanwhile was dressed in paint covered overalls and looked like she had just walked out of an exploding paint store, part of him wondered how and why they were a couple seeing as their lives and aesthetics were so different. He looked to Stasia who was frowning, was something wrong? He waited till she pushed him gently on the shoulder to get moving before he started to approach his biological parents.
"こんにちは,息子です。 お母さんと私がいなくて寂しい? 腹減った?"
"なぜあなたは滑走路を歩こうとしているように服を着ています."
"私がいるから、あなたは問題の妹を持っていますか?"
"はい。. あなたが約束したように見て、あなたはあなたの息子との時間を過ごすためにファッシ 再びキャリア第一、キラン第二."
"あなたは深刻なことはできません、あなたはショーに行くために彼を残しています.""キランはあなたとは違って、私は彼の幸せを非常に気にしていることを知っているので、それは異なっています."
"それでは、なぜそれが今週末になるように手配するのですか"
"それは今月の最後の週末だと裁判官がそう言ったので"
"もう行かないと 私たちはシーンを作っています."
[Hello son. Miss your mother and I? Hungry?] [Why are you dressed you are about to walk a runway.] [Because I am, do you have a problem sister?]
[Yes. Seeing as you promised you would take fashion week off to spend time with your son. Once again career first, Kiran second.]
[You cannot be serious, you are leaving him to go to a show.] [It is different because Kiran knows that unlike you, I care very much about his happiness.] [Then why arrange for it to be this weekend]
[Because it's the last weekend of this month and because the judge said so.]
[We should go. We are making a scene.]
With that frosty exchange, Kiran gave his aunt a tight squeeze of a hug, as though to say 'hurry back' before walking towards his biological parents. Unlike the life of luxury that Kiran was accustomed to, Rensai and Verin lived far simpler lives in that they were rather stingy with their money outside of travel and work, and so as a result hired a cab rather than drive their own very much brand new car they had bought the last time Kiran was over (mostly to try to impress a kid who was already less impressed with the situation he was in) and so as he sat in the back, he turned to the back and watched as the car pulled away, both his aunt and uncle stood by the plane waving and holding up crossed fingers... it was only once Kiran was out of sight that both Stasia and Ritunen got back on the plane. Looking up at both of his mothers, he wondered to himself what had gone wrong... was it his fault that they were so detached? Rensai taking pity on the kid smiled softly.
"What do you want for dinner?"
"I'll have whatever you two are having."
"You don't like steak. So you pick."
"Can we have pizza then?"
"You just left Italy and you want pizza?" Verin scowled, clearly still pissed off.
Kiran shut his mouth and Rensai sighed, the space treasure had wanted nothing more than to get to know her own son and so was trying her best to open up. She changed tact.
"How was school? Meet anyone? Had fun?"
"We learnt about Saturn today... and we did stuff on the moons yesterday... we'll be moving onto Neptune next."
"Schools really are different."
"That was only for Science... in English we are learning how to write poetry. I'm not very good... mu- Aunty DeV is helping me with it... and I really like the new class that teaches us to cook. Although the teacher is a bit dumb and thought I was lying when I said I knew how to boil eggs."
That made Rensai laugh, at least her son had the ability to cook and look after self, she directed the cab to change direction. Instead of going straight home she thought that maybe going to the new shopping plaza would interest Kiran and get Verin off their backs at least until her wife calmed down, once there she offered Kiran her hand which he took hesitantly as Verin continued to trudge behind them. They walked past different stores with Kiran pointing out little tidbits here and there (stuff he had learnt from Stasia mostly), when they approached the ice cream parlour, Kiran practically broke away from Rensai and ran inside, Verin was far behind them.
"Can I please have the apple pie and the pistachio. No toppings except for chocolate syrup."
"How do you know your mother's order?"
"Aunty Stasia told me. You like cookies and cream."
"I do. I'll have some too. What about you?"
"I just had ice cream the other day. Aunty Stasia takes me out on ice cream dates after school. Usually when she's in a bad mood or when I am. We talk lots and it makes me feel better... maybe it'll make mum feel better."
Rensai could clearly see the point and nodded, paying for the ice cream they made their way out of the store and towards Verin who was on the phone discussing something that neither of them understood, Verin glanced at them both and hung up on whoever she was speaking to and her frown deepened. Rensai offered the cone that Verin's favourites on it to her spouse who did not take it, instead the smaller woman bent down so that she was eye height with Kiran.
"Stop trying to make today better. Especially with the ice cream. That was something my sister and I did. Don't ruin it more than you already have."
That hurt.
That really hurt.
Kiran recoiled and before Rensai or Verin could say anything, the kid turn around and ran into a flock of tourists, apologising on the way as he ran. Rensai who had been trying to remedy this, decided that Verin being in such a foul mood was not going to help anything and placed both cones in the woman's hands before attempting to run after their son. Who was clear past the block and still running. He wiped away the tears and as he ran kept his eyes out for the one building that his true mother had mentioned would always be open to him, Law Technologies Inc. did have a branch in Amsterdam, though not as large as the other branches, Kiran bolted in the hallway, past the security – who stunned by his speed didn't bother trying to stop him. He practically slammed his fist against the elevators door and watched as they shut silently. Still wiping away the tears. He tried not to cry, especially around people but when the door opened and he fell literally into his- DeVian's arms. DeVian knew the visit was over. He cried as she fell to her knees and tried to console him, she was not particularly good at that and could only pat his back as he rambled on about trying to fix whatever seemed to be broken inside his mother, the sound of kitten heels rounding the corner before Marjorie was on the scene, with tissues and a cup of hot chocolate to boot. Kiran who was still crying looked at the older woman who was like some kind of grandmother to him offer up the hot drink.
"A new record. I believe less than two hours."
"I tried to fix it. I really tried to fix it."
"There's no fixing Verin. Trust me. Stasia knows."
Once Kiran was able to stop crying, and once the three boxes of tissues were cleared up. Marjorie ran her hand through his hair and patted his back gently, all he could do was concentrate on the cup of hot chocolate in his hands as DeVian stalked back and forth screaming in Japanese to Verin on the phone. Kiran had never really heard his mum ever speak Japanese with such force before and he tried not to laugh at the insults. Marjorie occasionally did glare at her daughter for the language, not that DeVian paid any attention. Stasia was next to arrive, a box full of French patisserie in tow with Ritunen and Rensai, Rensai was trying to apologise and was doing so to the Sytagen (who was not listening at all). Kiran cowered and found himself hiding his Marjorie's wool cardigan, afraid to see his other mother walk in. When Verin did not in fact enter the room, he relaxed a little. Stasia in the meanwhile had cut open the patisseries and was eating them casually on the couch.
"Come, sit next to me Kiran. Have some cake. Your mum is no way close to done on the phone."
He did as he was told and sat obediently next to Stasia who passed him a plate full to the brim with different things he had never seen before, but it all smelt divine – seeing as he practically cried out all of his energy and was running on a cup of hot chocolate. Occasionally Stasia pulled faces, this caused a bit of a chuckle and a nudge on Kiran's part as DeVian left the room to now scream in something that resembled Portuguese.
"Mum does know Verin can't understand her right?"
"That's the point means the threats will stick once Verin figures out what she's saying."
"And we will not let either see you after this. Rensai is still downstairs trying to get back in after Ritunen pushed her into the elevator."
Marjorie promised as Kiran finished his plates of treats, he rubbed his eyes and yawned, before he could even ask, Stasia patted her lap. He found himself laying down his head resting on her lap as the blonde continued eating, partially eavesdropping on her wife. Ritunen in the meanwhile was on the phone to the judge who had made the judgement in the first place, arguing for the condition that Kiran spend a weekend with his biological parents to be dropped and that no visitation rights be allowed until the two of them were assessed for mental suitability as parents. Unlike Stasia and Verin who did not dream, Kiran had inherited the habit of dreaming heavily in his sleep like DeVian, the adults in the room watched as Kiran fussed in his sleep, his leg occasionally jerking and his arm reaching out for something, Stasia hummed under her breath, as he did sleep – creating a kind of anchor as he did sleep. She took one of her bracelets off and placed it on the arm rest causing Marjorie some type of alarm.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking away the bitter words."
"He won't like that."
"It's necessary. It's eating him up alive. He's dreaming about it."
"The pain will not go away."
"No but it will be eased." Before the Kinoz champion could do anything, Stasia placed her free un bracelet wearing hand on Kiran's neck, the electricity Aikekunai shut her eyes and sighed... to Kiran it just felt like his aunt was tickling him and his body shifted a bit in response, almost as though trying to avoid the sensation of being tickled; as soon as it had happened the sensation was gone and his body went limp. He exhaled and Stasia put the bracelet back on as though she hadn't touched her nephew's neck whatsoever. He soon woke and rubbed his eyes again, sitting up he stretched, DeVian was no longer on the phone but was listening to whatever Ritunen was doing on his phone (still on the phone with the judge, and in negotiations with Rensai who was on the third additional line) Ritunen pressed the speaker to allow Kiran to hear and also so that Kiran could express his own opinion if he was asked.
Three days later
Kiran looked at all of the boxes, Verin had been forbidden from interfering as Kiran packed up the last of his belongings from Rensai and Verin's house. Two very large very loud guards stood outside of the bedroom door, well they weren't guards really... just two males that DeVian had introduced as Francisco and Truman. Truman had come dressed in glitter, glitter and more glitter – Kiran hadn't actually realised that men could wear glitter nor that one could wear so much glitter and not be in full Halloween either. Francisco was a little more reserved but just as loud as Truman (both of whom were arguing over churro prices in the city) Once he taped the last of his boxes and placed it by the door, Ritunen came up the stairs and started moving the boxes, Truman following in his uncle stead and Francisco harmlessly joking about the need to have so many belongings for one so small. Rensai sat in the kitchen watching all of this and being unable to move, Kiran approached the woman he saw more like a big sister than his biological mother and offered her a hug, which she took. She smelled his hair and patted his face gently, getting some green paint on his forehead, neither bothered to wipe it away. "I'm sorry we couldn't be the parents you needed nor wanted." "No its ok. You're not the problem." "I know. But I can't help but feel partially responsible. Will you still visit me?" "Alone, sure. I don't want to go near...." "Yeah, fair enough. I don't think either of you could be in the same room anymore. Got everything?" "Yes." "Alright. I'll see you out." On the Phone "I realise now that what I said was cruel."
"You're still not to go anywhere near him, he's happy. Thriving."
"He's my son."
"No, you had your chance."
"That doesn't mean.... I can't not have another chance."
"Not on my life Verin, if it were up to DeVian and I. You would never see him again. Today you do because he wants to see you. He wants to talk to you." With that the older Noba sister gestured for Kiran to walk towards the laptop, there was no chance that any of the adults now responsible for Kiran would allow him to actually see his mother in person, lest Kiran ended up dead or worse. Kiran sat down on the leather chair and waited for Stasia to leave which she did after whispering that she would be down the hall. Once the door was shut, Kiran looked at the screen for the first time, his mother was a bit of a mess and less than her usual polished self. He could see paint buckets in the back. So she was at Rensai's studio. He placed his hands on top of each other, they looked at each other for what felt like years, when really it was just ten minutes. "You've grown in height." "Yes... it has been... a while." "Three years. Happy birthday."
Not much had really changed in regards to Kiran, he had grown taller, a bit more muscular and much wiser. After the event of three years ago which neither of them wanted to talk about, Kiran had been outright taken away from his biological parents. He had moved in full time with his aunts, had changed his surname and was now getting close to achieving his dream of figuring out exactly what his element was – neither Stasia or DeVian had been able to give him a clear answer... he undid his hair and let it fall so that his mother could see that he had grown it out past his shoulders, most of the time that led to jokes between his aunts about his resemblance to his uncle Shinzo.
"School has been great. I graduate in the summer. Then I'm going to be spending time in the Void for the next few years... training has been great." He was still careful not to refer to either of his aunts as mother, mum or such like around Verin. It had taken a bit before Stasia had revealed to Kiran what memory she had taken from him three years ago when he had cried till he could cry no more. When he had found out he had been disgusted and even angrier at Verin – that had forced Kiran to be moved to a different schools after he set fire to the last one, beat up two kids and nearly killed another. Now he was getting better (mostly at directing his anger elsewhere and with his halberd rather than with his fists and with the lighter he kept in his pocket) both Verin and Kiran looked at each other unable to speak, Rensai popped into the background occasionally and they joked, unlike Verin who hadn't seen her son in person for three years, Rensai and Kiran were still on amiable levels with each other, and that meant that both usually spent their time painting and eating cake with the other, that and Rensai was a better help element wise.
"Look I gotta go... they planned a party and everything..." "Oh, of course. Happy birthday Kiran." "Thanks." He hesitated wanting to say her name, but thought better of it and shut the laptop lid.
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Jan 14, 2022 13:16:30 GMT
Post by Spira on Jan 14, 2022 13:16:30 GMT
Restless Sleep
Kiran had been inside of his aunts wardrobe only twice, once because Stasia had to grab her emergency textile kit to fix his halloween costume that had somehow split at the seams despite Kiran not having grown at all since they had designed and made the jack-o-lantern get up, this second time was now because he was alone in the house and neither of his parental figures were there; he felt alone and scared. He had heard them moving about in the early hours of the morning, had heard his aunts unlock the part of the wardrobe strictly for their personal arms; had heard his mother go off about how she would be fine because Novevu would be there and that Stasia needed to concentrate on her own task which Kiran hadn't heard at all. He had buried further under the sheets when his actual biological mother was mentioned and DeVian's complaint about having to work alongside someone who was such a personal nuisance. He had pretended to be asleep when both opened his bedroom door to make sure he was asleep, Stasia readjusting his sheets and DeVian running her hand through his hair affectionately, he dared to open one of his eyes just by the smallest cracks and saw that both of his aunts were in their combat gear. Now he was terrified.
Kiran reached into one of the many racks and tugged the shirt until it fell into his arms, then he reached for another item of clothing this time belonging to DeVian, not even their rings were on their holder – he had been so amazed at the sight of them initially because of how they seemed to match the woman who wore it to a tee, now that he was half covered in clothes that smelled like both of his mothers he decided rather than going back to his own bedroom he crawled into their unmade California King bed, arranging the items of clothing so that he was in a nest of scents he had to do his best to reassure himself as he fell into an uneasy sleep.
The water was pristine, so clear that you could see everything underneath, the scent of jasmine and camomile wafted gently in the wind as they were welcomed to the realm of water by the Treasure of Water, apologetic that his father was nowhere to be seen; they had decided to visit the realm as a treat to Kiran and perhaps maybe to see if he had any connection to the element at all. Ritunen had decided not to accompany them – something about the house connections and all. Dropping his duffle bag down and into the waiting hand of a water claimant attendant, he followed after his aunts who were chatting to the treasure like it was nothing. Kiran had always wondered just how influential his aunts were for them to be able to travel to different realms on a whim, to chat to everyone as though they were either underneath them or at the same level of status.
“Come on, I need a massage.”
“I promised Kiran I’d take him on a tour to see the Realmic beasts. You go on ahead and we’ll see you for dinner?”
Another exchange, a kiss or two and a quick assurance that both would stay safe before Kiran was led away from his blonde aunt and so he had to follow after DeVian who walked at a pace that was unmatched by most, the only reason for the woman to be walking so fast everywhere was probably because her partner walked around with fewer steps from the height advantage. Unlike in the mortal realm, DeVian was not wearing her usual heels but rather a set of comfortable sandals that made her considerably shorter and closer to Kiran in height. The attendant offered them something to wash and dry their hands with, something to drink – Kiran had never had this ‘lychee and coconut water’ thing before but he liked the taste… it was sweet but not sweet. The first stop on their tour featured where the water claimants who were residing within their realm of origin were training, there were a few kids the same age as Kiran who waved and offered to play games with him during their stay; he murmured something about if he had time he’d see to it that they could play in the water or some such.
“Why do people care so much that you’re here.”
“It has to do with my house rather than myself.”
“Is the house of Death really that influential?”
“Yes, it’s the head of a line.”
“But isn’t the house of water associated with the house of Life?”
“I suppose so, and yet here we are. If it’s not your element then we will keep looking.”
Funnily enough, none of this was necessary because DeVian already knew what Kiran was capable of and his element but the kid had no one else in his house and a realm that he could not access due it being locked and a holding cell for his Ancient. They ducked under the willow tree and climbed over the roots until they were seemingly at a lagoon, the same attendant still following after them and giving them minor details, DeVian bent down and touched the water with her fingers, just as a koi fish swam up and began to circle; she gestured for Kiran to come closer.
“Seen a fish like this before?”
“It’s so big… and so red, why is it so red?”
“One of the types of Koi.”
“Koi?”
“Watch this.” DeVian shut her eyes and whispered “Avitus.”
Slowly the body of water lifted taking the Koi with it gently, so that she could stand at her full height. Kiran clapped at his hands and DeVian took the time to explain that the word Avitus meant ‘lift’, taking from the Qwidu and Invoa.
“Isn’t Invoa my mum’s surname?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the house then?”
“Space.”
“Space?” Kiran was mystified
Since moving in full time with his aunts, he had learnt over twenty different Ancient words and whilst he could not say any of them without sounding like an idiot. He was grateful that knowledge like this was no longer being withdrawn and hidden, he wanted to know all of the words. She returned the water and the fish to it’s previous position and they continued on their way.
Stasia was sitting on a bamboo mat in such a strange manner that Kiran had to wonder if his aunt was alright sitting in such a way, but when his aunt opened his eyes and waved at them both he knew that all she was really doing was trying to find another way to relax, it turned out that Kiran had no affinity for water and he was a little upset – it had been proven thus because the Realmic beasts ran far and wide away before Kiran could even get close, he was a little upset still but he didn’t want the stupid animals to be the reason he resented the realm or the element.
“Hungry?”
Kiran nodded and jumped with glee as two other attendants arrived with trays stacked high with things that he recognised, like tempura and sushi! As he sat down on the cushion beside the lowered table, he was offered the choice of a fork, chopsticks or his fingers. Opting for the chopsticks so he could practice, he watched somewhat in envy as Stasia poured herself a cup of hot sake and filled DeVian’s cup with wine. Course, he was given a giant whip cream topped chocolate milkshake as compensation. He occasionally pointed to the type of sushi that was on the plate, Stasia would explain what it was, where it came from and whether or not it was better with Wasabi. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that his aunt kept to the fully cooked foods like the Tempura and the Gyoza and... what was the stuff in the bowl that looked like tubes but weren't tubes?
“I like the tuna.”
“Expensive.”
“What’s the black ball things?”
“Those things are a type of egg.”
“What animal do they belong to?”
“Tobiko, a type of fish.”
“What’s the tube stuff?”
DeVian and Stasia gave each other a look as Kiran poked the noodles in DeVian’s bowl with curiosity.
“Noodles. Udon.”
“Oh ok. Is it nice?”
“Like pasta but Japanese.”
“Can I try some?”
DeVian asked for a small bowl and served Kiran some of her the noodles in her bowl, he had to use a fork for this much to his annoyance that his skill wasn’t where it had to be to be able to eat the slippery foods – Stasia promised he would get better at it and would soon be able to eat anything he desired with chopsticks.
The dream shifted…
It felt like yesterday when he was but a year old toddler, when he had set down inside of Nammay's big armoury, when Stasia and DeVian had come because he would not calm down, would not sit still or be held by Verin who was agitated enough that she had to cancel a shoot in order to be there for her son's weapon ceremony. He had been set down alone in such a vast space, a space that he was not familiar with, Rensai had told him to go with his gut and to take his time to pick a weapon. He toddled and swayed on his way towards the swords; they looked nice and scary maybe that would be enough? None of them called to him and he continued on his way to the halberds.
"Why is he heading in that direction? How does he even know what a Halberd is?"
"He must have seen DeVian training."
"I wanted him to be like me, with a Warhammer."
"You know that's not how it works."
"At least I can train him if he picks a type of hammer... I won't be much help with a bladed weapon that's more your thing."
Stasia muffled the ensuing laugh with a cough as Kiran picked up one pair of very large scissors and swayed to the right, he dropped it back on the rack and continued on his way. It must have been six hours (in reality it was only an hour) before Kiran whittled the choices down to two almost identical but not quite halberds, one was made of a lighter type of iron that had a blue-ish undertone with a pole made primarily of enchanted ebony wood; the other was a little showier with a carbon steel and titanium blade, the pole in which it was supported was like the previous made of enchanted wood, however unlike the ebony wood this latter one had been sourced from Osage-Orange. He picked both up and tried to swing each in turn – this series of actions caused both Stasia and DeVian to lose their cool and laugh out of pure amusement as Kiran tried to wave the two rather large weapons in the direction his aunts. Verin turned away from her son as he dragged, crawled and walked his way to Nammay who picked up the weapon he settled on, Nammay looked at the two women that Kiran saw as his real parents with an expression that suggested something more than just a simple choice or calling.
"This one, is made exactly from the same materials as DeVian's."
"What?"
"It's the younger sister."
"Surely not. It’s not oozing the void in any manner.”
"I can assure you, I don't make mistakes when it comes to identifying my weapons. I'll have it wrapped up and delivered. Besides, yours is affected by your bloodlust, this one is not. It is instead fuelled by Kiran’s anger.”
Nammay lowered himself so that he could give Kiran two thumbs up and a smile for making his decision.
Kiran woke up from the dream feeling even worse than when he gone to sleep and he looked around hoping that his aunts were back, he rubbed his eyes and sat up… someone was back but who? He listened as someone seemed to be throwing things around in the wardrobe, a little scared he climbed out of the bed and tried his best on tiptoes to creep towards the door where DeVian was on the floor having demolished part of the wardrobe crying. He bit his lip, what was he supposed to do? He wanted to help but he was also scared that he’d annoy her… why was she crying? Where was Stasia?
“Mama?”
DeVian jolted and turned her head in Kiran’s direction… now that he thought about it the room smelt a little like blood and he frowned even more.
“Kiran stay there.” DeVian croaked “There’s broken glass. I don’t want you to cut yourself.”
“Where’s Stasia?”
DeVian let out a hiss and rubbed her chest before standing up, she had shattered a mirror and honestly hadn’t even realised that Kiran had fallen asleep on the bed that Stasia and her shared usually.
“Your aunt is in a coma.”
“Coma?”
“Asleep, something happened. The mission went wrong.”
“Mission? What’s that?”
He watched as his aunt had to compose herself, when she hadn’t said anything for more than fifteen minutes he really began to worry that someone had died. His aunt stood up finally and with her hands gestured to the broken furniture and shatter mirror, Kiran watched in amazement as the damage seemed to reverse and soon it was if no one had touched the wardrobe to begin with. DeVian ran her hand through her hair and placed her ring where it usually sat in its spot, Kiran had noticed that Stasia’s ring had not left its spot… but his aunt never forgot to take her ring…
“Come on, I need to eat something. You hungry?”
“Mum.. what’s going on?”
“Later, right now I need food and wine.”
“Should I call Uncle Ritunen?”
“No. Don’t do that.”
He followed her silently as she walked towards the kitchen, pulling her sleeves up… he mentally noted that she had not changed out of the outfit that she had gone out in… something really had to be wrong for her to still be in her combat gear. As they turned into the kitchen, he was stunned because standing at the counter was Novevu and two other strangers, one of them had bright pink hair and the other was in a suit of finery that didn’t seem right. The pink haired one waved at him and she seemed to float… he wondered if she was connected to the house of air?
“What the hell are you three are you here for?”
“To check in on you.”
“I understand your need to do that Novevu. But it doesn’t explain Vivian or Xainayne being here.”
“I’m here because I have business with the boy.” Xainayne grumbled
“I’m here because… Quinnox thought you needed this?”
The pink haired one, called Vivian handed his aunt a large dark bottle with a barely legible label, DeVian nodded in thanks before Vivian seemed to fly out and away… as though she had not been there at all. He was ushered towards the couch by the man in the suit who was there to talk to him. He fidgeted with his hands, constantly turning his head to check that his mother ok, she was... just concentrating on making food, he then turned his attention back to the man who he was pretty sure had said something but he hadn't heard at all. Novevu was also rather silent, observing his daughter like an eagle would its prey.
"Pay attention to me Kiran."
"Who are you even? You're a stranger."
"I am Xainayne, the Ancient of Darkness. I am your biological mother's Ancient."
"What do you want?"
"We've... I have come to the decision that for the time being that you ought to stay with your mother. At least during this time."
Kiran rarely ever shouted, let alone screamed.
"NO."
He jumped to his feet, and ran straight to hide behind DeVian who was concentrating on keeping a face of calm, she could not afford to cry in front of Kiran again, it was bad enough that he had caught her off guard but now he was being difficult... she could not blame him, she had been like this too as a child when Novevu had to leave her with her adopted parents. She took a deep breath and continued to concentrate on preparing herself and her nephew... son? Breakfast. Kiran clung to her and she did find it hard to move around but it was comforting somewhat to know what she was still so needed by this child that just the mere mention of going away had him sticking to her like a magnet.
"If you insist on clinging to my leg, you ought to help. Rolling pin and go get some more flour from the pantry."
"Yes mum."
"He calls you mum?"
"I don't mind. He's my son at this point. Kiran, not the wheat flour. White flour and grab the pickled chillies whilst you're there."
"Ok mum!"
"He needs to understand that you need to go away." Xainayne returned to sitting at the counter
"He already does... in some way. I just need a few days..."
"You don't have a few days. I'll take him now."
She hadn't even meant to summon her weapon and yet that was exactly what she did, Kiran was just returning from the pantry when he caught the scene of his mother, knuckles white on her Halberd, it's sharp blade resting against Xainayne's throat and Novevu rubbing his temple. He nearly dropped the jar and the bag of flour. Xainayne and DeVian glared at each other. He kicked out his stool and placed the items next to his mother who was contemplating the consequences of murdering an Ancient in her own kitchen, in front of her son.
"We'll go. Just make sure he understands..."
"No, this is ridiculous." Xainayne let out a hiss as DeVian dug the tip deeper into his throat.
Novevu decided it was best for both to leave, he grabbed Xainayne by the collar and whisked them off and away to the Void, DeVian let out a breath of relief and returned her Halberd back to its place in her wardrobe before resuming making them breakfast; she had Kiran reheat the leftovers as she got the dough together for something... something sweet. Her mind recited the recipe for Bruno's churros like her life depended on it. Less than an hour later, both of them were sitting at the table, she was gorging herself on churros and Kiran was happily finishing off the leftovers from last night, she had put aside a serve for him once he had something she felt was healthier in his stomach. Neither of them spoke and Kiran was still coming to terms with the fact that DeVian was prepared to fight someone like an Ancient in her house. Once Kiran started on the churros, DeVian clasped her hands together on the table and began to relay all of the events of the evening in much simpler detail to Kiran who nodded occasionally and tried not to cry, sniffling here and there and sighing in relief when his mum explained that Stasia would be alright but only after a long time asleep... a time that she wasn't sure of if she was being honest.
"So you see, you need to go away for a while. I need to work and fix this mess."
"But where will I go? I don't want to go anywhere..."
"I'm going to introduce you to a friend of mine."
"Friend?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
The doorbell rang, DeVian stood up and went to answer it, leaving Kiran to ponder who this person was, his footfalls were heavy and nothing like Uncle Ritunen so who could this be? He bit into another churro just as a Japanese man in a samurai get up and a sword entered the dining area, his hair was long and in a neat ponytail and he looked about perplexed at the situation as Kiran was.
"Kiran, this is Shinzo."
He wiped his mouth and wiped his hands on his shirt as he pushed himself off of the chair and approached the giant Japanese man who looked very out of his element. It took a bit of adjusting and some craning of the neck before Kiran was looking Shinzo in the eye.
"おはよう"
[Good Morning.]
"So you speak Japanese."
"I do."
"And how long are you going to be staying with me?"
"A week at best, at least until I clean this mess up." DeVian sighed, she really needed a drink but didn't want to get severely drunk around Kiran
"I'll go pack."
Kiran gave his mum one more tight squeeze before running upstairs to pack a small bag of essential items and of course his weapon which sat in its case waiting to be used. Once he was packed, he decided it would be best to leave his teddy bear in his mum's bed... she might need it more than he did. Once it was tucked inside the sheets but in clear sight. He put his shoes on and walked back downstairs to Shinzo – who still looked about as lost as a tourist who realised they boarded the wrong flight twice but did not think to ask for help.
"I'll see you in a few days Kiran."
"Ok mum. I love you."
"I love you too, now be good and don't drive Shinzo mad."
"I'll do my best."
"It's all I can ask."
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
2 likes
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Apr 20, 2022 13:57:20 GMT
Post by Spira on Apr 20, 2022 13:57:20 GMT
The Ugly Truth
“What does aunty do?”
“She makes clothes, but you already knew that.”
“Then how come she comes back bruised and doesn’t talk for days at a time… just sits by the wall and stares into the void…”
“When did you see that?”
DeVian placed her fork down, Kiran and her had been invited over by Bruno to eat lunch with the mortal; he had prepared a simple version of Galinhada with what he had in his fridge. Right now he was making something else in the kitchen whilst also eating from his own plate, Kiran tried his best to pay attention to his food as his mother waited for a response to her question.
Kiran had never really met Bruno until a few weeks ago when he had opened the door and the old man had given him a large wrapped package and told him unwrap it and put it in the oven for forty minutes at the lowest possible setting. He had done as directed and forty minutes later, his mother figure had come down from her office and had immediately served herself a rather large portion. He had never had it before, DeVian explained it was a dish made mostly of black beans that had been stewed with pork; furthermore that her own mother used to make every year at a certain point of the year. Served along side the stew that Kiran only had a spoonful of (Ritunen had explained that even if he loved the stew to bits that the dish was meant solely for his mother, something about making sure she ate and felt better… but his mother was not visually ill which confused Kiran) were small rolls of cheese bread, again he was told not to eat it (he managed to sneak one roll away for himself but apart from that the rest went to his mother).
Kiran had no idea who her mother was, he wondered if she meant that old lady that hung around DeVian’s side. Come to think of it, Kiran felt his mother had been acting awfully strange in the past few weeks; barely talking constantly working and always drinking herself to sleep… come to think of it the old lady Kiran had gotten very used to seeing around DeVian had all but vanished into thin air.
“I hope you are still hungry, the Pudim is almost ready.”
“There’s always room for dessert papai. Right Kiran?”
“Yes! What’s Pudim?”
“Pudding.”
“Oh… should have guessed from the name.” Kiran giggled
“You want caramel or passionfruit. Querida?”
“Caramel.” DeVian answered without hesitation.
“Just like your Mãe.”
Kiran watched slightly nervous as DeVian rubbed her chest before resuming eating in silence. He made sure to clear his plate before Bruno came to the table with the proffered dessert… it smelt sweet and amazing and Kiran suddenly felt like his stomach was empty all over again - despite having two bowls of Galinhada.
“You never answered my question.”
“Last week.” He finally let out, DeVian nodded.
“Do you know why she wears her bracelets?”
“She said it was to keep us safe. So she didn’t hurt us.”
“What house is your aunt in?”
“Postnos.”
Even saying a house’s name felt like one was summoning the element, the air felt like it did before a thunder storm, Kiran shuddered. DeVian placed her glass down and put her hands together, almost as if she was praying - or at least that was what his friend did before they ate at lunch everyday, Kiran wondered why his mum was being so quiet - it was like she was waiting for something, to perhaps see something in Kiran's eyes. Finally after all of the suspense DeVian began to speak in a tone that suggested that if she was interrupted she would stop and never speak of it again.
"As you know, your aunt and I have lived many lives. Aikekunai we are. Your aunt's lives have a sole purpose for as long as the Ancients have wanted a soul of her kind to exist."
Bruno served Kiran a small serving of Pudim. He had heard this same story from his wife years ago when Stasia had been rescued from the Program and he was trying to make sense of why his wife had been so relieved and yet so devastated. For a moment Kiran could have sworn his mother's eyes weren't her own and belonged to someone else and he had to tell himself to stay quiet as his mother changed her position and began to trace her skin... almost like a Polaroid being exposed to the correct chemicals; Kiran's jaw dropped... his mother's skin was a kaleidoscope of colours that showed pictures and memories and seemed to be buzzing with her aunt's element despite DeVian being from a different house entirely.
"She is a mind thief, a gift that allow her to steal whatever is in your mind no matter how hard you fight. To some, that makes her a monster because she could steal everything and leave nothing in her wake."
He spooned a mouthful of Pudim into his mouth and savoured the sweet and tangy taste of passionfruit flesh.
"So, as part of her job she has to do things that you and I would not have do ever."
His look must have told DeVian what he was thinking for she looked up at the ceiling.
"If that means sleeping with the enemy then she will. It disgusts her."
Kiran no longer felt like he wanted to eat, he pushed his bowl away as DeVian placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You and I will never know the horrors, she has worked all her life. She makes clothes otherwise to keep some control of her life. Keeps her happy. It's why she goes away so often. When she comes back she needs time to remember that not everyone will hurt her."
The kaleidoscope seemed to fade from his aunt's flesh and she looked at Bruno who only now served her a healthy amount of Pudim. Kiran looked down at his hands and tried to envision what that kind of life would be like and failed. He then looked at this mother and realised a little too late that he was crying - the tears fell without reason and DeVian took a moment to shut her own eyes and rub the bridge of her nose before pulling Kiran off of the chair he had been sitting on and placing him firmly on her lap; enveloping him in a tight hug.
"Verin might call your aunt all kinds of names, but you must remember that unlike Verin. Stasia has and will sacrifice everything to keep us safe and happy. You can never forget the sacrifices she makes to ensure it."
"Is that the reason you don't like her?" He rubbed at his eyes
"I have my own reasons but I at least want you to understand why your aunt is so important to me."
"She's important to the both of us."
DeVian ran her hand through his hair and he leaned into her touch, shutting his eyes he fell asleep. She wiped his tears away and looked at her mortal father figure who had a look that suggested that he was proud of her for revealing the truth rather than hiding it away or trying to disguise the nightmare for a dream, DeVian carried Kiran over to the couch, covering him in one of Marjorie's wool blankets before returning to the dining area to help Bruno finish the rest of the food - and if not put it away for the old man so that he would have to worry about food for the next few days. Bruno cleaned the dishes silently as DeVian rearranged the fridge.
"He will never look at his aunt the same way."
"I know and now I worry."
"Don't, it is good you told him the truth. Better he find out this way from you than for him to find out in a much uglier manner."
Uniform
Kiran tugged at the shirt and scowled, he looked ridiculous in this get up and in fact he still had several layers to go before he was fully dressed. The fabric was so itchy but he tried not to protest too much as Stasia stuck needles and pins into different parts of the outfit, she worked silently and Kiran wondered why he hadn't been struck or stabbed with any of the tiny metal implements his aunt was working with. Kiran, much to the relief of well his aunts had been accepted into a prestigious private school, and that meant two things for the young claimant that he was not only going to be forced to wear this stiff ugly uniform with its maroon and green and white but he would also have to be away from his aunts. It was called a finishing school, what the hell was a finishing school?
"Do I have to wear this?"
"Yes."
"It sucks"
"What sucks even more is that if you don't you'll be expelled and we don't want that."
"Do I have to go to a finishing school."
"It's only for two years Kiran, much better than going through seven years of geisha training."
Kiran shuddered, that was true as his aunt stood up and backed away, she walked around his still form and nodded in approval. He spun around as though he was wearing a tutu and his aunt rewarded him with a laugh and a hug before reaching for a box that had sat unopened for the longest time by his aunt’s side as she worked on him. As she picked it up and opened the box, he peered inside and saw a beautifuly intricate pocket watch, it hummed with something that could not have been human; Stasia slipped it out of the velvet lined box and placed it in Kiran’s hand, it was more weighty than he had originally thought as he allowed himself to bring it closer to his face.
“It’s so pretty.”
“It’s your first heirloom too, to keep you safe and to help remind that time will fly by at the School. Soon you’ll be back with your mum and I.”
“It doesn’t feel human.”
“Correct, you’re detecting a small part of your mother and I’s element, hold it up to your ear.”
He did as he was instructed and he could have sworn he heard a heart beat. He furrowed his brow.
“Your mother’s heartbeat. The clock hands run on electricity, but the internal workings? Your mother’s element, it’s connected to her pulse. We thought that it might comfort you.”
“This will be quickly lost or broken.”
“Indestructible and linked to you. Anyone tries to steal or break it and they’ll be in for a nasty surprise.”
“Like?” Kiran held it close to his heart, the metal had warmed and it felt like he was hugging DeVian.
“A small painful, non lethal electrical shock. Had to compromise with your ma. She wanted heart attacks.”
Kiran and Stasia laughed, as he slipped the watch into his blazer pocket, maybe going to this school wouldn’t be too much a pain after all; not with a watch like that and his aunt being so confident that time would past quickly.
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Spira
Citadel Mastermind
160 posts
2 likes
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last online Nov 23, 2024 13:53:45 GMT
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Post by Spira on Jun 23, 2022 4:48:27 GMT
There were only two things that DeVian could qualify and quantify as being the end of the world: the first was if either of her beloved died, the second was if the local Chinese eatery in the middle of the most gang infested neighbourhood - she was pretty sure they were the kind of gangs that humans spoke about in hushed voices, shutting or being closed when she needed their off the menu ‘Dev’ (known as the Snooty Rich Lady item to the staff when calling for it in Cantonese; but only if Rit was the one getting it for takeout) named Death Volcano Mapo Tofu - a dish that had to be made outside in a custom built kitchen and whose spices cost a small king’s ransom.
The dish itself looked pretty mundane to the unknowing eye, it smelt like a spice market and maybe if you were really paying attention then you could describe it as a small piece of mortal sensory paradise. Served with a mountain of pearly white rice that was just chewy enough to act as a coating for one’s throat (it was more of a curtesy to the humans. DeVian tended to leave the rice until she was at that perfect stage of enough of the dish for exactly the perfect amount of rice. Anyone else who ate this dish her way would likely find themselves in the Emergency Department with a very high risk of needing their entire mouth and oesophagus replaced).
So the world must have ended on that frigid Wednesday evening when DeVian had decided her employees had as always made a mess of things and so she was working overtime to fix the insurmountable amount of paperwork - she left anything with figures to her accountant who had somehow gone down with a nasty case of pneumonia and was apparently unfit to work. They could catch up later; paperwork regarding the moving of her property between the different branches of the Law family could not.
She had donned her ‘incognito coat’ turned her phone off and had walked the six hundred and eighty eight steps (she had counted these steps exactly and usually by the time she had made it to the last ninety steps, they would spot her and have her order ready to be picked up as soon as she put her hand on the slightly crooked iron door bar) from her apartment in the most pristine parts of the city of Chengdu, capital of the Sichuan province; to the most dangerous and murky part of the city where this eatery with it’s broken neon and faded clapboard signs resided. It’s front window was still being repaired from when a group of teen thugs had thrown the owner’s ancient three wheel scooter through it.
Her stomach growled and her heart dropped. The curtains were drawn and an ominous red piece of paper was displayed on the door; her eyes narrowed and she scanned the characters quickly. The owner and the chef of the store had somehow despite all her careful planning, their unknown immortal condition etc. had broken his hip from a fall. They would be closed for all the time it took for a human to heal such a large bone, relearn to walk… she could think of a mirage of things. Her fists clenched and she felt like hitting someone, instead of destroying the place DeVian did the most unexpected yet most responsible thing, she called Eviax.
Eviax lowered her sunglasses, her eyes peeled to the screen; what on Florita’s green earth did DeVian want. She clicked accept call, and placed the small device to her ear and inhaled sharply.
“I need your help.”
“What does the Princess of Death want?“
“You too? How many people know about that?”
“Enough to know they whisper it in the hallways, always checking before they do so. Lest you show up and cleave them in half with your halberd.”
“Anyways, a mortal of mine is injured.”
“They get injured all the time.”
“This is a special one.”
Eviax’s right brow lifted, she sat up straighter and had to hold her free hand up to stop Evans from passing her a mixed berry daiquiri. He frowned as he placed it by her side; craning his neck in her direction as she turned to her left and turned away from the red head claimant.
“You want me to heal them so you can eat some speciality dish? Why not make it yourself?”
“Because I cannot replicate it.” Hissed DeVian.
What a surprise, Eviax thought. DeVian when not being whispered about in the halls of power that transcended places other than the mortal realm, she was supposed to be some regarded culinary genius. So this dish must be something other than ordinary for DeVian to be so hard pressed to get her hands on it.
“You are in China?”
“Yes. In Chengdu.”
“I suppose I could stop by or send Evans.”
She only meant the latter teasingly, though Evans crestfallen expression told her he wasn’t pleased at the thought of being separated from her. She placed her lips on Evan’s hand, soothing her partner; ever attentive as DeVian proposed half a dozen methods of getting to Chengdu from where they currently were, on the beaches of Fiji.
“I am sure you can survive off getting that dish elsewhere. I’m meant to be on vacation, if you desperately want them helped. Ask your mother. She’ll find a human doctor worthy of your chef.”
With that Eviax shut her phone off, picked up her slightly frosted daiquiri and took a long sip. Evans sat down on the lounging chair beside her and took up his own drink. She gave him a smile before glancing over at the ocean where she could see small children playing.
“What did DeVian want?”
“Nothing important my love. Shall we go swimming after?”
DeVian nearly destroyed her phone, Eviax just hung up on her and all for the sake of being on some fancy vacation with her red headed claimant boyfriend. Looking back at the red piece of paper taped to the door window she cursed herself again. The ghosts who usually made themselves known to her, all seemed to have scattered to the wind then face her increasing wrath. She needed to find the human chef and she needed her Death Volcano Mapo Tofu.
Ritunen could have sworn they had driven around the same block twenty-nine times now, he was starting to get dizzy and someone who was supposed to be far removed from any human ailment; yet here they were. DeVian had insisted he drive all the way throughout the city whilst she was on the phone talking to Marjorie who was telling her where this human was supposed to be – except it seemed the man was everywhere and nowhere, Marjorie put it down to the fact that because he was a human, his signature was weaker… he did not have an element that Marjorie could detect.
“He’s protected by me, he should have death lingering on him.”
“If it were so easy, then perhaps you would have found him by now. You know that is not how my ability works.”
“You can tell where any other claimant is, and their realm; can’t you do it with a human whose got a touch of death?”
Her mother went silent, DeVian was about to add something else on when Ritunen pulled over and switched the engine off. She looked at him, his knuckles were white on the steering wheel and did she detect the slightest layer of sweat on his skin?
“Get out before I push you out of the car. If you are so desperate to find this human. Do it yourself.”
He sounded as though he was trying to threaten her, like an ultimatum. She was so shocked she didn’t even feel the belt be unbuckled or her door being opened.
“Stasia can come back and get you. I’m not your driver nor am I your lap dog. I’m your husband.”
Ritunen’s tone when he mentioned Stasia’s name was bitter and he had to go back to gripping the wheel even tighter to make sure he didn’t lash out and harm the love of his life. Once she was deposited outside and on the curb, the door clicked shut and he sped off leaving DeVian alone.
She climbed up the stairs, the elevator was out of service and he was as she found out from the shivering spersoning doorman-security man on the second upmost floor. She’d see to it that the elevator was either replaced or fixed before she left the place; the stairway themselves were worn, cracked and faded from age. She didn’t bother holding onto the hand rail, it looked rusted and covered in suspicious substances.
She pondered what the inside of the chef’s apartment looked like, as he had never been seen out of his uniform and his wife was not adorned with the usual expected finery, maybe it was because their workplace was in such a dangerous place. As she rounded the stairs and nudged the door sectioning off each floor from the shared space with her foot, she looked in and found that as she expected more or less the same twenty wooden doors as the previous. Sitting there to guide her was the building’s phantom who has bowed to her when she had first arrived.
“Which door?”
The phantom wordlessly stood up, DeVian had seen all manner of small phantoms but this one took on the image of an aged mummified infant and so waddled towards the desired door. She thanked it with a small clear pearl, a token from her house to those who served them in the mortal realm; no one could see the pearl but her of course and the phantom started bowing and thanking her profusely before scurrying off to resume it’s regular haunt - pissing off the cleaner by rearranging the tool closet.
“Chef?”
She knocked again, she could hear a television set being switched off, a walking frame being adjusted, a light switch on, ragged hard breathing, water falling from a tap, bones popping in their sockets. A latch was undone and she could see the deep umber eyes of the chef open the door just a crack: his skin was like a wrinkled colourful patch work of pain; DeVian felt herself internally wince, the walking frame was not with him but instead beside him… she only noticed his wife who was keeping me standing.
“Good evening.”
She was never sure what language to use with the Chef, the man barely made any noise and if he did it was to let out a small wheeze from his asthmatic lungs. He was a heavy smoker despite the former, his wife who had been propping up; reached gingerly for the walking frame: her back strained from consciously trying to keep both herself and her husband upright.
“Please… there’s no need to stand or busy yourself. I simply came to check in on you…”
She trailed off, what else was there to be said? If Eviax were here, the treasure would know what to say, how to act. It’d always been an instinctive thing for the humans, to fear the house of death and its members. Something about Desdon blooded seemed to ward off the claimants from ever making proper human interactions; most death claimants could really only count on one hand the amount of times they weren’t refused service or a human actually said hello or a number of other things; it made the house lonely and ever forbidden… nocturnal and fearing that they would never belong in the same room as others who they thought deserved the attention more, despite being such a grand house. The Portuguese Champion decided to focus her laser sharp attention on the details of the apartment instead, small and cramped it was almost covered floor to walls in personal effects: pictures, furniture, plants, a shrine for their ancestors, paintings bought decades ago, cobwebs, incense stains, cigarette smoke scars on the ceilings, tattered moth eaten rug, polished tiles, metal sink, plastic stools, picnic table, broken handles…
“Hungry?”
How long had she been staring at the family portraits? She glanced down to see she was sitting on one of the plastic stools and a small bowl of mandarins and steamed red bean buns had been placed in front of her, the buns were still steaming when she picked up one. A cup of bitter and dark oolong was poured and was also offered; she nearly jumped when the old woman placed a warmed towel around her neck.
“Cold outside. Late too.” The woman chided.
The Chef still hadn’t said anything, his attention was fixed on some distant point outside of the small one bedroom apartment. He didn’t want to be at home, doing nothing and feeling incapable as he now felt. He wanted to be standing by his blackened woks, working alongside his assistant and former student, he wanted to smell of peanut oil, exotic spices, fresh ingredients that his wife had gone out to select personally for his own use. He had not thought he would be working unto his grave; had hoped for some kind of retirement where he and his wife could relax and feel young as did sixty odd years ago.
Part Two Coming Soon
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