• Open • [The Gleam] Sweet child of mine

The Ashvane Estate's back yard

Once the epitome of advancement and wonderment, this ancient city has suffered an apocalyptic catastrophe and now drowns deeper into destruction as schemes and further disasters threaten to tear it asunder. Hope has long since left the land... but some have refused to surrender their place in the sun
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[The Gleam] Sweet child of mine

Sun Mar 17, 2019 3:23 pm

31st of Ashan 719

Step by step, Fridgar led Loque through the house. He was completely blind, unable to see with a thick layer of fabric wrapped around his eyes. They'd spent whatever free time they'd had the trial prior counting steps and measuring the distance between areas of the house and the turns they would have to take in order to reach key locations. They knew how to reach the kitchen from the front door, the living room from the front door and the yard from the front door. They also knew all interconnecting paths, such as the living room to the yard, which was the path they were currently on. Loque might wonder how Fridgar was accomplishing navigation as they wandered through halls and turned perfectly at every point, all while blindfolded. They remained quiet, focused, counting the steps in their head. Thus, there was no small talk, nothing to say on Loque's request.

She'd asked to know why they wore a blindfold and they only shook their head at the time. They did intend to tell her of the danger of living with them, but later. Right now, they had to focus. So, quite slowly and calculated, Fridgar weaved through the cold stone halls of the estate before reaching large, tall, broad doors. Beyond which was the yard. Fridgar felt over the door with their blind eyes and eventually found the handle. With a quick turn of their wrist, the heavy stone door swung open. This 'garden', as Fridgar had described it, was revealed to be little more than a stone lot with a small basin, far too shallow for a child to swim through let alone drown in. The ground was made of flat, smooth slabs of stone which added up to make a checkered design with no discernable pattern. High stone walls cordoned off the yard, denying any would-be intruders entry.

Fridgar carefully untied their blindfold and beheld the sight of the ugly garden. Their eyes squinted in the rush of sunlight, but Loque could probably see fine. Around the basin, there was a small Lotharen boy chasing a Stekir. His run was an adorable waddle with his tiny legs, and the stekir moved little more than a paced walk, but it was a chase all the same. With a silent command, the totem, the stekir, turned on the spot and walked quickly toward them. Bellator, the boy slowed down as the cat ran past him, then ran back after the small feline. When the boy saw the two standing at the door, he shouted a loud "DADDY!" and ran toward the pale Lothar despite being out of breath. Fridgar laughed and smiled as he lowered to one knee, then held out his arms to catch and receive the boy.

As soon as the little one was in arms reach, the protean snatched him into their arms and quickly stood. The boy squealed with excitement as Fridgar playfully growled and stretched out his arms. In his firm, gentle grasp, he held the boy overhead and spun around in circles with a series of steps. The little Lothar cheered and screamed as he soared in the comfort of his father's hands, then fridgar brought him down to their chest and kissed him gently on the forehead. "Did you catch the kitty, little cub?" They asked. bellator took deep, exhausted breaths and shook his head. "No... too fas!" he declared and resumed panting. Fridgar chuckled, then pulled the boy into a hug. "Oh well, maybe next time!" The stekir watched from the door, sitting on her behind beside Loque. it was hard to tell, but it almost looked as though she was smiling at the scene.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet, little cub," the Protean said to the little Lothar, then turned his body so that they could both look to the orange Ithecal. Bellator watched with wide eyes and blinked. "Cwocodie..?" he asked as he looked back to Fridgar and moved his hands together as though they were the jaws of a crocodile, hinged at the wrist. Fridgar laughed again, then shook their head. "No no, she's an Ithecal. Do you want to say hello?" The boy watched the ithecal with unease, wide eyes locked upon her one green eye, then he shook his head. "No," he said. The stekir took a few paces toward them. "Why not?" Bellator was very shy, after all, it didn't surprise them that their boy wasn't immediately comfortable with an Ithecal, the likes of which they'd never seen before.

The boy didn't answer and shook his head with an 'Mh!' of disapproval. Trust any child of theirs to be reluctant to admit to fear. "Don't worry, little cub. She's a very nice crocodile and I'm here to protect you anyway, even if she wasn't, the boy still seemed hesitant and kept his eyes firmly set on the lizard. Fridgar gave a careful nod to Loque and motioned her to come closer with their fingers.
word count: 862
"Who needa politics when you can eat the politics."
-Nightshade Eld 02/02/19
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Re: [The Gleam] Sweet child of mine

Sun Mar 17, 2019 9:30 pm

Loque watch the masters movements with curiosity. They seemed overly precise, calculated and rehearsed, though unable to catch a glimpse of his face, Loque could guess that it took quite a bit of concentration to move about the home blindly yet so acutely accurate as to not bump into anything-- and even follow the pathways near perfectly centered, especially given the silence. Their question having been met with little more than to be vaguely waved off was enough even for the curious Ithecal to understand that it was not their place yet to know his reasons. In time, perhaps, but not now.

At one point while following, Loque raise a hand to their good eye, barely peeking between their fingers as not to run into the man that tower above them, but try to gain some sense of how things were perceived by him-- the sound of footfalls on stone, the sharp turns, the lengths of each stride-- even understanding how delicately measured it all was his methods were beyond the simple lizard, and they quickly gave up on emulating the behavior. On reaching the door Loque glance about the so-called garden. A private outdoor space at best, just as lifeless as the rest of the home, despite its furnishings and trinkets to fill it. No... not completely void of life, their eye set on movement. A young child chasing behind a familiar feline. Seeing Fridgar stoop down and scoop up the boy brought a strange rush to the ithecal's senses, an excitement they only vaguely remembered in distant dreams and memory. Chancing a glance to the Stekir who they'd already known to not perceive them as a threat further cement this feeling; the master was happy. Their own plastered crocodillian smile seemed warmer, watching the two twirl about for but a few trills before being addressed.

Their gaze lower in a polite bow of the head, tilting slightly to one side. Cwocodie..? It took much restraint not to laugh at what was, arguably, a common mistake for those who'd never seen an Ithecal before-- and given the master's ability to summon beasts from little more than bits of their bodies... No

Loque pause, frozen in place for what seemed like trials in itself though it pass in but a few trills. The child had rejected them. While not wholly unexpected, it still was a shock. Was Loque that terrifying..? Were they perhaps more akin to a monster to others than they had believed? Without word, Loque's tail lift from the floor, raising up and plopping right down atop their feathered head, laying over their blind eye. "Loque not crocodile, too soft! Like puppy with no fur!" A soft laugh echo in their throat, barely opening their mouth as they spoke, keeping their tone hushed to a coo and poking out their pudgy tongue in a silly manor, dipping their head and stepping cautiously closer as instructed. They did not reach out to touch either of them, instead keeping their maw, and sight, pointed more down and their scar covered; trying to make themselves look as silly and non-threatening as possible. They knew very well if they were seen as a threat that the Stekir would have long since tried to rend their hide-- and Fridgar himself would dispose of the rest without hesitation. In truth, coming closer had brought an old, familiar sting back to the surface, and was what prompt them to shield their flaw, their fault, their reminder of what happens when a parent feels their child is threatened.
word count: 606
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