Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was not Autsu who came to the door. 'tsu was in the kitchen at his father's insistance, helping to prepare tea. Earlier, there had been cleaning, not that the house needed much.

Instead, the door was opened by a lithe, gold eyed female, with dusky skin and a dress the color of sand, that fit against her like a second skin. Her smile, and she was smiling, held hunger. Her voice, when she spoke, was dry as scales on sand, but sensual. "Ahh yes, so here then, is the other young one, not so young. He sees you taller--"

"Sussare." Too much to say that Sethos rose his voice, that Sethos might ever raise his voice, but there was command there. A pause, which wasn't a pause unless Patrick should happen to be wearing a watch, which he would now find it a few seconds behind other clocks. The time mage was not above taking a moment to have words with his familiar. But now Sethos was standing there, and Sussare was a snake about his neck, and there had been no transition. Just a change.

"Welcome." The nearly adult fae bowed deeply, then stepped aside to allow them to enter. The house was decorated in golds, dark wine reds, and rich browns. The colors of autumn. Of Autumn. No couch, but cushions that invited sitting, and their was a table in the dining room covered in a russet table cloth. No TV, no stereo. But lots of candles. It was a place that invited peace, meditation, thought. "I will get my brother. Be comfortable."

Apparently, there were to be no further knots in the fabric of time and space, at least not for the moment. Sethos meerly walked into the kitchen, trusting Patrick's family to obey him. Perhaps he could have spent more time on small talk, but it wasn't a skill he'd ever felt the need to sharpen.

In the kitchen, Autsu was arranging little cakes on a tray, his expression showing exactly how uninspired he felt by this little task. But a boy could not get by on hitting things alone. A light touch on the winged one's shoulder, and a slight nod toward the living room, and his attention was redirected, leaving Sethos to take up his task.

Kniene glanced up from the tea tray, "I'll bring this to the table, then."

Another nod. Sethos would find words for strangers when he needed to, but with his family, there was rarely any need to waste them so.

Reaching the living room, Autsu paused, made suddenly nervous by a situation that had seemed exciting before. There was Kniene. And there was the one he recognized as Patrick, and one he did not recognize at all. But Kian had many siblings.

"Comrade, friend." He spoke then, moving to Kian's side. "I am glad you are here."

And, I am not looking at your tail, he added, silently. He would look at the candles instead, though he failed to see why Anne found them interesting.

Kniene entered after his son, and set the tea tray down in the center of the table cloth. The tea set fit the theme of the house, the cups and pot looked as if they had somehow been formed of amber, and close examination showed engravings of tents, figures walking and riding, dragons. The Guard.

"Indeed." Said the once priest, hearing Autsu's words. "We are glad. Be safe and warm around our table. And may the Lady guide us both."

Some mild changes to the old words, table taking the place of fire. But it still had some memory of music and lost power.

He should have expected the tail, but Autsu nearly jumped none the less, tensing but managing to remain still. It was just a tail, after all. One that, after all, he wasn't even going to look at.

"There is much to be said for time spent lost." Kniene interjected gently. He was good with people on this level, a good host, polite and gracious. It was when friendships were attempted that he became confused. And so, he had his children, and did largely without friends. "Welcome, Ade. And may all your children find themselves welcome here, should they ever chance to visit."

A smile for the child, and then he patted the table lightly. "Come, let us sit. Sethos will join us in a moment, with food." A glance at Kian than, the boy was still laden with his fish pillow and bag. "Autsu will show you his room after tea. For now, you may find yourself more comfortable if you set aside your burdens."

He knew better now, then to attempt to break the tails grip on his wrist. And it wasn't as if he really wanted to. The table was round, to better allow for conversation, and 'tsu simply took the nearest seat, as his father began arranging cups in front of each place. "Sussare. She is a snake, brother's familiar." He paused, looking for words to describe her. There weren't many appropriate. "She does not mean harm, but she's strange."

Autsu too, smiled at his friend's statement. A rare expression, rare for the warrior in him, and for the solemn boy he now was. But there it was, a faint trace of an affectionate grin. "But still, you are stronger than I."

And that, after all was what was important. Not meer height, but power. He looked over at his friend, and he could see the potential for strength there. Strength and--

His blood began to sing. He turned back to his tea.

Sethos arrived then, with a second tray, matching the first in design. This one held an artfully arranged pile of meats, veggies and small bowls for sauces. In the center, small slices of bread. Apparently Kniene had decided to allow the guests to decide on their own sandwich fixings.

The fae set the tray down before taking the seat next to his father. Sussare was still around his neck, a snake the color of sand, or lions.

"Pour the tea, Sethos." Kniene instructed, smiling when his son went about the task with careful grace. "Would young Ade like juice, perhaps?" He asked, giving the youngest of the company a look of warmth.

Love for children was a religious devotion, where he came from.

Well, weren't the boys just utterly focused on this little ritual? The magic of avoidance, perhaps. With his uncaptive hand, Autsu began spooning sugar into his tea, adding more than would perhaps be considered healthy. The milk, however, was ignored. Milk was only good in the form of icecream.

Doing his best to be polite, but still trying not to look at Kian, or the tail on his wrist, he pushed the ornate sugar bowl over to his friend silently. Everyone liked sugar, right?

As this small gesture went on, Kniene rose, intent on making good on his promise of juice. He gave the boys a slightly confused look, seeing something but not sure of what. He had little sense of normal, so it was hard for him to read the aliens' body language. He only saw hesitance where he had not expected it.

But they were not children. They had their own ways.

He returned with a sippy cup of apple juice (I am assuming Ade's sippy cup age, if wrong, feel free to ignore the presentation), which he handed to Patrick so that the man might give it to his son.

"When Autsu was younger, he used 'peas' in place of no." He noted, as he retook his seat.

A soft, slightly irritated sort oh 'heh' from the winged boy. "I speak my language better than this one."

Sethos was making a sandwich, still silent. It would not be unusual if he did not speak again this night. They were a quiet family. Sussare studied Kian, and took bits of meat from Sethos's fingers, though she did not need to eat.

It was a joke, and after a moment of staring at his friend in mild confusion, Autsu managed to decode it as such. Weren't they just the crazy crack ups at the table? Ha-ha and all that. But though the boy didn't smile this time, his eyes were bright with humor, or affection, or need. Anyway, they were bright.

"I hate it. And so, destroy it." He took a sip, to illustrate. Take that sugar! See how you like being digested for your evil sweetening ways.

Mmm... tea. Autsu did like tea, but for the sake of 'humor' he managed a threatening sort of hissing growl, when he set the cup down.

Kniene hearing Patrick's response, nodded, though his attention was momentarily distracted as he looked in bemusement at the (happy?) boy who was sitting where his son usually did. Smiles were so rare from him, and joking almost unheard of. And yet, here he was, shining.

What was this?

"Autsu broke things, mostly. He was very good at it." He decided against mentioning that as a child the boy had screamed out names in his sleep. He still did that one, sometimes.

He was being discussed, and so tore his eyes away from Kian, and in so doing, remembered the rest of the world. And sandwiches. He reached for meat and bread, recalling hunger. "I was angry." He stated, as he attempted to select a sauce. It wasn't an apology, just a statement. "Now, I have a bag made for hitting."

"It is from home." A wistful statement from Kniene as he sipped his own tea, unaltered. "They do not have the same herbs here."

It was his favorite. She sent things, now and again. Gifts, like tea. It was Her way of comforting him. Or hurting him. Kniene wasn't always sure which.

It was only a pat, and considering that he had his ally's tail around his wrist, it was nothing, right? Except, of course, that it wasn't. It was affection, the casual affection of a comrade, which he'd missed for a very long time. And that, well that was just another confused emotion to add the mess of them already playing tug-o-war with his insides.

But, of course, he was fine. He even had a sandwich, with delicious spicy cheese and lots of meat. What could be more fine than that?

But he didn't continue his banter. Instead, he looked at Patrick, curious, expression thoughtful. A glance to Anne, and then back to his friends 'parental' "Anne is a warrior." He stated, simply, as if that should explain Kian's apparent violent outbursts. And then, as if the entire subject wasn't really that interesting, he added to the boy at his side. "We will have a sparring room, when things are set up. You and I will practice together. And you will win."

There was a part of Kniene that wondered if Autsu's words were perhaps impertinent, or impolite. It wasn't that what he said was rude, but there had been correction in his tone, and it was not right to correct guests. Then again, he was obviously very attached to his friend.

Attached at the wrist, it would seem.

"My world is much younger than this one." He said, deciding to focus on Patrick's words instead of his son's. "Fewer machines. Less acceptance. I was a child of the Lady, a traveler. So it is difficult to say where I am from."

Kniene's tone was one of quiet love, a deep abiding affection for a place he would likely never see again.