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 Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2007 4:47 am
 enter the man and brothers two
Sable frowned as the young adult completely ignored him. “Rook! I asked you to stop that,” he repeated, running his fingers through his black hair. It wasn’t like Rook ever listened to him, but it still got frustrated day after day. It’d be nice to have proof he actually existed every now and again. Sorely tempted to just take the black controller from the Nobody’s hands, the lab tech quickly thought better of it. Rook was at least a head taller, born and trained to be a fighter and had the temper of a tom cat.
“Rook, can you at least put that thing on pause and listen to me?” he asked, cringing as he watched Rook’s pixilated character cleave many a foe in two. Damn. Video games had gotten really graphic since his days spent at the arcade. Given, he rarely spent a day at the arcade. Those were only on the few days off the boarding school gave the children, days in which they were free to roam the streets of the neighboring city. Usually, Sable would spend all his money on new reading material, but every now and again the school boy’s attention would stray to neon lights and happy shouts coming from Joey’s Arcade. Strangely, the man that seemed to own the joint was called Ethan, not Joey.
Rook scowled, begrudgingly doing as he was told. “What do you want?” he snapped, eager to get back to bloodshed and battle of video game land.
Sometimes Sable had to wonder why he even bought that thing for Rook in the first place. “I…” It had been such a struggle to gain the white-haired youth’s attention, Sable suddenly found he couldn’t remember why he had wanted it in the first place! “I…uh…” Oh! “I was wondering if you knew where Saint wandered off to.”
Rook snorted, rolling his eyes. What a waste of his time. “I’m not his keeper,” he grunted, eyes already glued back on the television screen.
Sable sighed. “Hearts forbid you actually care about anyone but yourself,” he muttered under his breath, ignoring the dark look Rook shot him. He turned from the room, padding down the hall towards Saint’s bedroom. He knocked on the door and waiting thirty seconds before twisting the knob and peering in. The black comforter was an inkblot on creamy sheets, Saint having been too rushed, too lazy or too scattered in his thoughts during the morning hours to put the bed back together neatly. Sable shook his head, getting the feeling it was probably the latter, and let himself in to fix the mess, not satisfied until all corners were tucked and all sheets looked crisp and new. Saint may not be here, but his messes were always omnipresent.
He wandered out of the teenager’s room, closing the door quietly behind him. The lab tech had no idea were Saint had wandered off to hearts-knows-where, Rook had been too self-absorbed to ask and Sable had no way to contact the creature. Saint didn’t talk enough to buy himself a cell phone (the teen usually pantomimed), and he probably wouldn’t understand the technology. Probably. Sable had sort of given up on trying to teach Saint new things. He couldn’t even read, for heart’s sake. He occasionally picked up on some quirk, but the lab tech decided to chalk that up to luck.
Sable sighed for a second time, pushing black hair out of his face. If he were Saint, where would he go? Saint did like video games. Would he go all the way across town to play at the arcade? He frowned. The heartless was a quick boy, but would anyone at the arcade be able to understand his strange language of flails and sounds and hand motions. Wait. Don’t worry yet, Sable. Did Saint even have enough money for the arcade?
“Rook!” he called down the hall.
“What?” the disgruntled creature snapped.
“Did Saint still have his allowance?”
“How should I know? I’m not his dad!” Rook scoffed.
“He follows you around like a dog. Did he spend it?” Sable asked, trying to keep his patience with the rebellious beast.
Rook grunted. “Not as far as I know. Now, shuddap before I die.”
Sable didn’t bother reprimanding the youth’s sharp tongue. He didn’t listen, and on the rare occasion he did, it would be Sable getting the tongue-lashing. Rook was a fierce beast, built for the kill. He had no shame in bringing someone like Sable down.
Focus, Sable. Saint still had his entire allowance. Would he spend it all at the arcade? No, probably not. He might go buy food. He did rather like candy and there was rarely any in the house. He taught Saint how to buy food a while ago; he was much friendlier and definitely the better option for simple errands.
Hmm. Had Saint been saving up? He couldn’t recall the heartless buying anything at all recently. Maybe he was storing his allowance somewhere safe over the past months. Sable tried to remember if he had mentioned anything he really wanted. Saint did actually have the initiative to collect his money and wait… Well, there was always the draw of a new video game. The boys did love them, but Rook owned most and usually did not see fit to share with his brother. Or maybe he went down to the park, to play outside and-
The door swung open then, Saint ambling in and singing horrible off tune to himself.
“Saint!” Sable exclaimed, started away from his train of thought. “You’re here! Where were you!?”
Saint blinked, not used to being attacked at the door with a game of twenty questions. He held up the small white plastic bag, flashing Sable a very pleased grin.
“Ah.” He nodded, moving to the side and letting the boy flee to the tv in the living room. So he had been saving for a new video game. He didn’t mind, really, Saint’s taste in games was much less…gory and destructive then Rook’s choice. “Hey, Saint?”
Saint stopped open the package with a claw, glancing over at Sable. He was much more respecting than his sibling as well.
“Next time you go somewhere, can you tell Rook?”
Saint frowned and shook his head. No. Rook was mean and would probably hurt him or yell at him for interrupting some important game sequence. Hearts forbid he didn’t do perfectly.
Sable sighed, pushing his glasses back up the ridge of his nose. “Can you leave a note?”
The heartless boy gave him a confused frown. Sable knew as well as he did he couldn’t read…or write.
“Pictures, I mean,” Sable quickly clarified, mentally kicking himself. “Just…find a piece of paper and draw me some pictures as to where you think you’re going. Oh, and the time you think you’ll be home, and…just tape it to my bedroom door, okay?” He should be able to handle that. “So I know where you are…and when to make you dinner,” he added quickly, never forgetting one of the most simple rules of teenage boys.
Saint nodded eagerly, anxiously stealing looks at the plastic package sitting on his lap.
Sable chuckled. “Thanks, Saint. You can play that now,” he added, turning to wander towards the kitchen. Speaking of dinner, it was nearly that time and he hadn’t even gotten started yet. Couldn’t have that! Pulling his lab coat of and hanging it on the coat rack, the young man walked into the kitchen with purpose. Tonight, they’d have Chinese and he’d be damned if it was take out.
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Posted: Thu Jul 26, 2007 12:47 pm
the trouble with pancakes Rook woke up one Thursday around eleven in the morning, the smell of pancakes wafting in through the crack under his door. Intrigued and ever hungry, the Nobody threw back midnight black covers and rolled out of bed, grabbing a shirt off his dresser and tugging it over his head on the way out. The t-shirt, also black, was plastered with some rock bands label, and clashed angrily with his plaid boxers. The thought of putting on a pair of jeans only fluttered across his mind for a moment before he quickly pushed it aside. This was breakfast in his kitchen. He could get dressed after.
Stumbling into the kitchen and pushing white hair out of his face, the youth slowly realized the chef had long since gone to work. So where had the smell come from? He frowned, rubbing his dark eyes as he looked around. It was then he spotted a head with black dreads from the kitchen window. Saint was sitting on the couch, watching his cartoons and eating pancakes. Ah ha. Rook gave the microwave an accusing look. They were reheated. And here he was, actually waking up in the morning because he thought Sable had made him pancakes. What the hell.
“More.” Or, at least, it sounded like Saint just said more. It was hard to tell when his brother was trying to shovel food in his mouth and communicate at the same time, especially when he hardly had a handle on English in the first place.
“More?” Rook echoed, leaning against the wall. He watched the Heartless carefully, waiting for the shake or nod of his head. He got a nod. “I’m taking them,” he announced as he sauntered across the kitchen to the fridge and gave Saint no room for protest. He woke up for pancakes, and damnit, he’d have pancakes.
He found the pancakes wrapped up on the top shelf on a plate labeled ‘Rook’. Sable remembered to make separate plates. How sweet. Not moved at all, the ashen-skinned youth started to pull the saran wrap off when a small note fluttered away from the plate. Rook seriously considered ignoring it. He threw the plastic wrap away and put his pancakes in the microwave, setting the timer. Microwave humming behind him, he glanced down at the piece of paper laying sadly on the floor. He sighed and glanced back at the timer. Ninety seconds left.
With a great sigh, Rook crouched down and scooped the note up, flicking it open. It read:
Rook,
Please take care of the cabbage today. I’m not going to be home for quite a while, I’m afraid. He just needs to sit in the sun. If he looks wilty, please give him a spritz from the spray bottle. If Saint wants to help, let him. (Just don’t let him take the cabbage out to play, or something. Juno’s already damaged it enough.)
Make sure you let Saint out to play today. You know how he gets if he’s inside all day and you’ll be the one dealing with him.
Oh, Leviathan (that’s his name) is in my bathroom, in the sink.
Sable.
Rook grumbled, tossing a crumpled paper wad into the wastebasket as he stood. He knew he shouldn’t have picked that damn note up. The microwave beeped at him and he pushed snowy bangs out of his face again, reaching for his breakfast. He didn’t bother moving for where he stood, he just leaned against the counter and ate the steaming pancakes with his fingers. He didn’t need butter or syrup, Sable had put it on ahead of time. Tricky man, hiding the note in the pancakes. He knew Rook would not resist them.
With a great sigh, he hollered, “Saint. We’re taking care of the cabbage.”
“Yep,” Saint chirped.
Rook grumbled. The Heartless had tossed his plate on the floor and was sprawled on his belly, coloring in that new coloring book of his. He was working on ‘staying in the lines’. Well, he wasn’t going to be much help. The Nobody dumped his dish in the sink and wandered down the hall towards Sable’s bathroom, making a quick detour to his room to change into pants before venturing into the cabbage’s liar.
He eyed it. Leviathan, as Sable called it…er, him, did nothing. Rook walked over. Leviathan still did nothing. Rook plucked a leave off. Leviathan continued in his nothing doing. Well, he was probably safe. The Nobody leaned over to grab the large plant. He might be safe, but god damn he was heavy. Rook was pretty sure he’d never met a plant that weighed his much. He quickly stumbled down the hall and more or less dropped Leviathan onto the carpet in the living room where the sun shone through.
Saint jumped, staring at the cabbage for a moment before glaring at Rook. “Hurt?” he demanded, setting his book down and walking over.
Rook snorted. “Juno did that, not me. I can’t break him anymore than he’s already been broken,” he scoffed. He quickly took the seat Saint vacated, snickering as Saint wailed his protest. “Snooze you lose, punk. Watch Leviathan.”
Taking the request all too literally, the Heartless settled down next to the cabbage and trained his eyes on him. Rook smirked. Well, this was going to work out far better than he even could have hoped. “Squirt him with this if he wilts,” he added, tossing the spray bottle at Saint’s head. Saint whined when it knocked him, but refused to take his eyes off the cabbage. The Nobody shrugged and arranged himself on the couch, flicking on the television and picking up his book off the armrest to read.
When Sable returned seven hours later, that was exactly how he found them.
“…I see you found the pancakes.”
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 3:22 pm
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 8:50 am
  Levithan! Such a sweet, cuddly little boy...b-but. Why's he got shells on his arms...?
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 8:52 am
 dear rook, stop trusting pancakes
Sable has to go to work for the day, so Rook is left in charge of Leviathan. Instead of taking care of him as any good brother should, he takes Levi to see Juno even after Sable expressly forbade it. It turns out Juno's not so great with kids. Leviathan likes him anyways.
We're Just A Couple of Animals
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Posted: Mon Aug 06, 2007 8:55 am
sable: scientist, father, and...trend setter?
Sable has gone to visit his old bosses, Mercury and Nereus. What's this? It seems like Merc has a little surprise of her own. What is this, some sort of fad? Nereus doesn't seem terribly impressed. Leviathan, however, is more than happy to be in the company of the couple. They know how to spoil a kid. (Plus, they don't make Daddy shudder and talk funny. Now there's a plus.)
Cabbages are Trendy!
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2007 2:47 pm
the products of the mass media
Sable takes Leviathan out, as the boy will squall and yell until he gets his way. On their journey outside, Leviathan meets a young cat boy, the son of some pirates! Enthralled, Leviathan tries to force his 'pirate' knowledge (made up mostly by Pirates of the Caribbean and other movies on Sci-Fi) on Melchy. Sable nearly has heart failure when he meets the crew that comes along with Melchy. All in all, it was a good meeting. Levi made a new friend, even if he still has a thing or two to teach him.
Down at the Docks
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2007 3:06 pm
go around twice if you're happy
Once again, Leviathan demands to go outside for playtime. This time, they end up at a park and meet Jahzara, another cat/cheetah child, and her father, Brad. Brad and Sable chat (and, shocking, Sable doesn't have heart failure!) and Leviathan tries to teach Zara how to swing. Fortunately, the daddies take over swing-pushing and Leviathan and Jahzara have a one-sided race. Levi wins, but his victory is cut short when Rook needs Sable to come home. Brothers. Ug.
Kitten Tails & Lobster Claws
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Posted: Sat Dec 01, 2007 3:08 pm
what is it that makes a memory?
Leviathan and Sable go to the park...again. What? Leviathan loves the park! Anyways, he meets an older girl, Manuela, and she teaches him how to play catch. Leviathan has all the hand-eye coordination of a lobster. Oh well. At least he thinks he's good. Besides, Manny gave him her ball! Now he can practice. Look out, fragile things that belong to Sable!
A Game Between Friends
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Posted: Sat May 17, 2008 4:38 pm
 L-Look, he's grown into a fearl-less child! But what does he have to go do such d-dangerous things!?
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 6:52 am
the start of a new era Leviathan came tearing down stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet and sliding down the hardwood stairs in his hurry. He made a great leap and landed at the bottom with a great thud, taking a moment to readjust himself before whipping into the kitchen. Mismatched eyes sparkling, he slid up behind Sable and made a great shout.
Sable nearly dropped the glass he was holding, squeaking in surprise. “Leviathan!” he scolded gently, turning and adjusting his glasses. “Really, if you want my attention, all you have to do is-” The young scientist blinked and set the orange juice on the counter. “U-uhm,” he stuttered, pulling off his glasses and quickly wiping them with his lab coat. He settled the black rims back on his nose and stared at Leviathan again. “….uhm?”
Leviathan laughed cheerfully and launched forward to give Sable a quick hug. “Isn’t it neat?” he chirped happily, twirling around to get another good look at himself. “I’m all big now,” he added, more than impressed with himself. He had finally grown into a big kid! This was awesome! “Dad?” he prodded, lower lip slipping into a little bit of a pout. Dad was happy, right?
“Uh,” Sable said for the third time, closing his mouth and trying to compose his thoughts. ‘Awesome’ was not exactly they way he’d describe the growth spurt. Oh sure, he noticed Leviathan was slowly becoming a little more mature, but he expected something…slower? Or maybe he just didn’t notice until now, and he noticed everything at once? Yes, that made a little more sense. “It’s wonderful, Leviathan,” he assured his son, reached over to pat him on the head. “Would you like breakfast now?” he inquired, returning to the task at hand.
“Yeahyeah,” Leviathan said quickly, sliding across the floor to the fridge. “Pancakes?” he asked, digging out the carton of eggs and the jug of milk. Sable nodded and reached up (on his very tippy-toes) and plucked the Bisquick from the shelf. Leviathan handed his father the metal mixing bowl and went in search of the griddle, which he found lurking in the cabinet under the stovetop. Once breakfast was sizzling away, Leviathan sidled up to his dad and wiggled his eyebrows.
Sable pointedly ignored the look.
Leviathan huffed and put his hands on the counter. “So. Dad. Now that I’m older…” he started.
“No,” Sable said, flipping the first round of pancakes over. He motioned for Leviathan to fetch a plat and the margarine.
The lobster-boy complied and handed Sable a plastic, teal plate before sliding back over to the fridge to find the tub of margarine. “But you said!” he complained, sliding back over and placing the tub on the counter. “You promised, even!” he added, pulling out a butter knife from the silverware drawer.
Sable sighed and shook his head, putting the four pancakes on the plate. “Butter those?” he asked, ladling out another four.
“Daaaaaaaaaaaad,” Leviathan crowed, still doing as he asked. “Pleeeeeeease.”
It didn’t take much, really, for Sable’s guilt complex to kick in. “Fine,” he sighed softly. “We’ll go find you a surfboard today.” He frowned. “But you have to promise me you’ll take Rook to the beach with you if you go surfing while I’m not home. At least until I decide you’ve gotten the hang of it. And you can only surf where there’s lifeguards! And don’t forget sun block. And don’t surf if there are shark warnings or foul weather or-”
Leviathan was too busy squealing with joy, dancing in place and squishing Sable in a tight hug to catch the tail end of all his worried father’s concerns. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou!” he cried, bouncing up and down. He cackled with pure delight.
Today was probably the best day of his life.
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 7:05 am
the boy of summer
Leviathan was an addict.
There was no way around it. He’d probably had his surfboard for a week, and no one could get him away from the piece of wood. Oh surely, it was a beautiful thing, deep blue on top, licking a soft, yellow bottom. Leviathan had hand-painted the heart on the bottom, which concerned Sable temporarily, but he didn’t seem to interested in hearts at all. Or anything. Just surfing.
Much to Rook’s dismay, the teal-haired boy dragged him outside daily, following Sable’s wishes as far as having a guardian was concerned. The Nobody hated it with all his might (didn’t anyone know how easily he burned?), but even he could not fight Leviathan’s overpowering will. He just had to find himself a shady spot and curl up until the lobster-child wore himself out playing in the waves.
And to everyone’s great surprise, Leviathan was quite good at surfing. In fact, Sable would go so far as to call the boy absolutely fantastic. He’d hardly taken Leviathan to the beach at all as toddler (that pirate incident was a little alarming, especially the way they blamed him for their cabbage child), so he wasn’t really sure why Leviathan was so very natural in the water…unless… Yes. It had to have something to do with Juno. After all, he’d give the boy lobster arms. Who knew what else he did to him?
Oh, but none of this mattered to little Leviathan. All he could think of was splashing through the surf, rough Velcro around his ankle, brown skin shining in the sun, teal hair plastered to his face. He lived for the ocean. Nothing could please him like the smell of salt air, the feel of a wave crashing done around him. It didn’t even bother him if he got knocked off, which did happen occasionally, he was an excellent swimmer. He’d always find his way to the surface, spit out any water he managed to swallow and clamor back on his board and carry on.
He even went to the beach on Sunday, when it was pouring cats and dogs. Sable hadn’t let him take the board, but it didn’t stop the child from going out to play. He just couldn’t get enough. Trapping him inside made him twitchy and anxious, so the scientist finally let him out, with much warning, of course. Oh, but the smile the boy would give him. Sable couldn’t explain it. It was like he’d discovered the key to Leviathan’s heart- the ocean. It was all he wanted. It was all he ever wanted.
Yes, Leviathan was an addict. He was undeniably a beach bum. Practically a fish.
He was a boy of summer.
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 7:08 am
watch me, now
Leviathan goes surfing and meets up with an old friend!
-in progress-
Hang Tight!
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 7:15 am
he who sails alone
Hey! What's this? Why is there someone else (a girl!?) on Leviathan's beach?
-in progress-
The Islander
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Posted: Tue May 27, 2008 7:25 am
girls, girls, girls!
Another girl on Leviathan's beach? One who thinks body surfing is best? Oh dear! At least Leviathan manages to convince Ophelia real surfing is the way to go. And who knows, maybe he got a new surf buddy in the process! Only time will tell. (And really, she's not so bad. For a girl.)
Surf's Up!
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