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 Posted: Mon Nov 26, 2007 3:44 pm
Dear Diary,I do not think that I will ever get used to being a mother. It is not something that can be perfected; like riding a bike or cooking. Instead, parenting is like a never-ending practice of, well, everything. I do not like to admit how difficult I find it, because I feel as though actually saying the words aloud would make me a failure, and that is something I can not tolerate.
Before being blessed with a set of my own, I had never really appreciated the skills every mother must possess in order to run a household satisfactorily. Belle and Gage have thoroughly transformed the way I look at the world. Some days, I think I might forget my head if it weren't attached, and I still somehow manage to maintain (barely) enough self-control to take care of them.
I do not mean to complain and, trust me, that it is certainly not my intention. I wouldn't trade motherhood for the world. Still, I can not just sit back and lie about my every day life being as smooth as silk. I made a point, a long time ago, about being honest with my self, and I'm not going to stop now just because I fear that it might question my integrity as a mother.
Less than half the time (if it was any more, I think I might go insane from fear) I do not have a clue as to where my children are. Belle is younger than Gage, who grew recently, but she is (amazingly) worse behaved, and the instant I take my eyes off of her, runs to the barn to torture the cats. I can not even begin to count the number of times I've rescued a kitten from a slightly rough (though, surely well meant) bath. My girl is so young. She does not understand that the kittens don't like the water, and I have my fingers crossed that someday she'll grasp the concept of compassion.
Belle likes to get what she wants, and I do my best not to over-indulge her. My mother spoiled my brother and me, and while, I suppose, we didn't turn out too badly, I think giving Belle everything she desires would not be a good thing. It would go to her head and she would be under the rather false impression that the world bows at her every whim. If I do not try to alter that particular piece of her mindset, I fear that my poor little girl will be in for a rude awakening when she's older.
Gage, like his younger sister, also likes to get what he wants- but he is above throwing tantrums. He is an ingenious child and, more than half the time, does not even bother to ask me if he can. He simply just does and, to my utter frustration and exasperation, I rarely catch him. If it weren't for the mischievous twinkle in his eye and that damned smirk, I doubt that I would have any inclination as to the trouble he gets up to. I suppose, that this behavior is left over from his life as a criminal. I can not be sure, but I suspect that much of Xerxes still thrives in the cheerful form of my little boy.
No mother likes to admit that their children have faults, but I simply can not deny them. They are not bad children by any means and I love them more than the world, but I worry that whatever guidance I have to offer them might not be enough.
Perhaps, it might be time to enlist the help of another. Yours Truly, Green
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Posted: Sat Jan 12, 2008 2:40 pm
Dear Journal, Green's started interviewing strange people for a job as a live-in babysitter. I am not sure how I feel about this. I mean, when it comes to my own safety, I could care less. She fails to comprehend the fact that I was once, and am still, older than she is. Not to mention my renowned reputation for being a criminal mastermind. I will never be able to deny how strange it feels to be ordered around by a woman as young as she is- twenty-three, is it? When, not so very long ago, I was old enough to be her father. Why, just the other day she demanded that I clean my room. "It's filthy in here!" she said, with her hands on her hips and a determined expression on her face. If she was not such an amusing woman and had not been as good to me as she had been, I would have denied her the simple request. As it is, though, I'm well aware of the fact that I might owe her more than just my life and hardly mind performing such menial tasks. Especially when she has her hands full running after Belle, who is a hilarious little terror. I never thought I would become so attached to somebody from this world but, against all imaginable odds, I have. It is because of my protective, almost fatherly feelings for her that I am skeptical about the various people Green has taken to bringing into our home and asking what she presumes are serious questions. For example; -What did you do for a living before this?
-How much would you like me to pay you?
-Are you very good with children?
-Do you have any teaching skills?
Whereas I would like to ask questions like these;
-Have you ever been wanted by any type of authority anywhere, anyplace for any period of time? If so, what for?
-Have you ever killed a man? Woman? Would you?
-Have you lead a very honest life?
-Are you lying to me?
-What would you do for a Klondike bar?
You can see the point I'm trying to make? Needless to say, I've taken the epilogue of Green's little interviewing escapades into my own hands. Yesterday, I scared the crap out of an old hag with warts on her nose, who was a decent enough person but ugly, by slipping a frog into her purse when she wasn't looking. It was a simple, amateur trick that worked like a charm. I'll spare you the gruesome details, but I think I can confidently say that she won't be coming back here any time soon. A week or so ago, a pretty brunette girl, who was probably a bit older than Green, applied for the job. I wouldn't have had any problem with her, if she hadn't been so absent-minded. Stupidity is terribly boring. She was easily taken care of- asked her to help me with one of my latest experiments, which really doesn't exist all, and baffled her with some kind of scientific mumbo jumbo that meant nothing. The blank look on her face was everything Green needed to scratch her off of the possibilities list. At the rate we're going, I'm not sure we'll ever find somebody suitable for the job. -Gage
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Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2008 2:44 pm
AIM RP with Rothe Gee The building wreaked of old age. Gage sat at a long, oak table with his head bent over a manuscript of an impressive width. HIs orange eyes flickered over the words on the pages at a steady speed, as he did his best to absorb all of the information he possibly could. As he'd grown at an accelerated rate within the past few months, the pink skinned little boy had begun to recognize the importance of mastering the language and words of this planet. He had always prided himself on his intelligence and, while his exile to Gaia hadn't put a stopper on his cognitive abilities, Gage found that his ability to understand a lot of what was going on had been inhibited by his Yurupean origins. Being around Green had done a lot for his language skills. He'd learned a lot from her, and was thankful for that fact. However, it hadn't taken Gage long to realize that he ought to take responsibility for furthering his education. So, practically every day, but never at the same exact time and only after tormenting the neighbor's dog, he would slip a simple canvas bag over his shoulder, bike into town and settle down in his favorite corner of this very old building. It was a giant place with suprisingly poor lighting for a place where people were meant to read. From what he'd read so far, Gage reasoned that it'd been modelled after the older english, gothic fashions. Kyri It wasn't a place that Rothe tended to be at very often, but his own collection of books had been devoured and committed to memory long ago and while he sincerely doubted this place would have any texts on what he was dying to know, he had to get out of the house. Mordread was 'cracking down' again, trying to get the younger children ready for school and trying to play daddy to the criminal. Rothe hated when the ex-slave decided to play Daddy after a sudden epiphony that took place a week or two after being holed away doing god knew what. He'd never been the same after the split from Patrick. Rothe found it pathetic. But at least 'going to the library' seemed to be a fitting past time and he'd managed to escape the house unscathed by a million and three questions about what time he'd be home. The library appealed to the man who he refused to call 'father' and since he knew the b*****d would likely go there checking in on him in a bit, he had to go there. At least until the cat showed up to make sure that was where he was. So, dressed in his finest - fueled by money that he'd stolen from his poor excuse of a guardian - he walked himself to the large, old building that appealed to his specific tastes. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The architecture was satisfying. He was in the middle of heading toward one of the restricted areas - he wouldn't bother getting any kind of pass - when a familiar sight caught his eye. There was no mistaking pink-skinned cotton-candy boy. A smirk touched his lips as he sauntered over to him, "Trying to better yourself, Cotton Candy?" he questioned, voice silky, smooth. Low. Gee That voice was familiar. He couldn't put his finger on it quite precisely, but Gage knew that he'd recognize the face it belonged to. The wavy haired boy didn't look up immediately, and held his hand up, signalling that he wanted to finish his paragraph before shifting his attention to conversation. It wasn't that he didn't to talk to Rothe. As it was, Gage didn't particularly care. Rothe could wait two seconds. After all, it would take a lot more than that dangerously silky voice to make him feel threatened. His skin may have been the color of cotton candy, but it was a hell of a lot thicker. He toyed with the idea of flipping the page and cotinuing his mental exercise, but thought better of it after a moment's hesitation. Encyclopedia's were loaded with information, but he wasn't particularly interested in absolutely everything they had to say. "What if I am?" he said casually, and finally turned his head to look the older boy in the eye. Kyri "I'd say that you were doing a rarely intelligent thing," he answered, arms coming to cross over his finely clothed chest. At his side, as always, was his whip, looped about for easy access should he need it (and it was visible, too, with it's barbed edges) which usually caused people to raise a brow. Rothe had learned early on that the weapon wasn't a generally accepted one, and he was determined to show others that it was a formidable weapon, indeed. He just hadn't had a chance yet. This damn body...He hated it. Loathed it. But that was neither here nor there at the moment. "Though unfortunately, for the likes of you, the chances of becoming more than a milkman are severely low. I do, however, wish you luck in your endeavors." A smile that did not reach his eyes graced his lips - almost cruel. Gee "Puh-lease," Gage scoffed and rolled his eyes, lips curled upwards in an expression that might have been described as awkward amusment, "most milkmen live honest lives. Obviously, you know nothing about me. Why strain yourself by assuming that you do?" Lies weren't something he made a habit of but Gage, who was formerly known as Xerxes, had never completed an honest day's work in his entire life. Nor did he have any intention of doing so. He did like to fix things, and was naturally very good wtith his hands, but the objects and things that he created were usually... of a dishonest nature. There was nothing the alien liked better than coming out on top, or making something easier. When he noticed the whip at Rothe's side, his eyebrows flew upwards in surprise, but his expression remained otherwise unchanged. Gage tried not judge. What the taller boy decided to tote around with him was his business and of no real importance to the pink skinned kid. Still, even as he swore he wouldn't ask, Gage felt a bubble of curiosity start up in the pit of his stomach. What the hell was Rothe doing with something so ugly? Kyri What Gage would have thought as ugly, Rothe adored and called his beautiful, his precious, his lady and the only one that he'd ever deal with outside of his sisters. "Are you saying you live a dishonest life?" Rothe toned, raising a finely groomed brow and moving to lean against the table, that gaze almost unsettling staring at him, unblinking, "I may be in a child's body," he hated it, and his voice nearly betrayed it - but didn't, thankfully - "But I am much older. Take my advice, Cotton Candy," he murmured before leaning down low and brushing his lips against the kid's to whisper, "You don't want to let that particular cat out of the bag." He slowly pulled his head away and smirked at him. Kids bodies, yes, but he wasn't stupid enough to think that any of them actually had a kid's mentality. Everyone he'd met remembered fully their lives before this wretched planet was forced on them. "You have too much to learn. You're green. That much I DO know, and with that, I know you will never get anywhere in life." Gee "I'm saying that you don't know enough about me to make such assumptions," Gage hissed in annoyance and leaned backwards in his chair as far as possible, completely put off by Rothe's close proximity, "I do not care about the conclusions you make about the type of person I am. Not everybody cares what you have to say, msyelf included." Rothe was too close. He was stepping out of line, and Gage wasn't about to just sit there and let him cross it. He had no way of proving that he wasn't younger than Rothe, but as Xerxes he'd seen more than his fair share of death and turmoil. Back then, he'd been untouchable. Now, in this world, where he was surrounded by unfamiliar words and unfamiliar buildings, Gage refused to be intimidated by a body that was only a little bit larger than his. "Life is unpredictable," he chuckled and gestured at their surroundings, "look at where we are now. You're far too quick to judge." Kyri "One needs to be quick to judge," Rothe countered, not shifting from his current position at all, and not moving his eyes from Gage at all. "If one takes their time to analyze, it could be their last seconds they are using. Snap, accurate judgements are key to one's survival. You implied that you did not live an honest life by the way you responded to my comment. I simply gave you advice. Judging by your reactions to my words, I've hit home, or you would not be so disagreeable or defensive. People skills, Cotton Candy. Perhaps you should learn them." He smirked, then, yet again - though as before there was no mirth or laughter in his face. Just distance. Cold, hard distance. "Life is unpredictable, but if you are intelligent, you can predict to a point what will happen. For instance." His eyes swept along the library, toward a woman who seemed to be carrying a large pile of books, seemingly steady, "She will drop all those books within the next five minutes. Can you tell me how I know this?" Gee "Not all judgements made within a span of five minutes are correct," Gage countered easily and shifted backwards once more. The reestablished distance between them made him much more comfortable, and he was once again able to meet Rothe's gaze head on, "Besides, I didn't ask for your advice." He decided this time, for both their sakes, to ignore Rothe's comments about his past. The taller, pale skinned boy couldn't possibly know anything about him. So, Gage decided to try and bring his little guessing game to an end. At their core, that's all judgements were anyways. Guesses. "Don't talk to me about people skills," Gage snorted in disbelief. He wasn't the one who'd started this little tug-of-war. Rothe had interupted his free time. It wasn't the other way around. "No," he rolled his eyes again, and then glued them to the unsuspecting lady, "but, I have a strange feeling you're going to tell me." Kyri "Some have to be." The statement was simple, but it was obvious, if you were looking, that Rothe meant it. He shrugged his shoulders, however, choosing not to comment about people skills further nor make any snarky remark about how his advice wasn't asked for. It wasn't something that he truly wished to respond to, anyway. Not that he had a response ready for it. "Indeed, I am. Only because I'm feeling nice today." If this was his version of nice, well, he supposed Gage didn't want to see him in a prickish mood, either. "She seems steady, her walk is sure of itself. Like she's done it a million times. Taking one look at her, you'd think she could handle that load. But if you notice, she's not watching the floor - and a few yards away, where the check out is, there is a small bit of raised carpet. Her fingers are also twitching slightly, indicating that the books aren't properly placed in her hands. She may be able to save them, but she will stumble and at least half of her books will spill on the floor." A few moments later, Rothe's prediction came true. Her sure foot wasn't accounting for the raise in the carpet, and she stumbled forward - six of the ten books in her arm scattering against the carpet and several of them passing through the electronic things by the door and setting them off. He laughed. Gee Rothe's ability to examine his surroundings and predict the outcomes of various situations made Gage uneasy. Admittedly, the thing with the lady and her books wasn't exactly the most magnificent analyzation. He was sure that it was something any particularly observant person could have noticed, regardless of their cognitive range. Still, as his eyes slid from the poor lady and back to Rothe's laughing facing, a chill flew down his spine and pooled at the tips of his toes. Unpredictability was something he'd always relied a great deal upon. Granted, he'd always had the ability to see what was going on behind him, which had made life as a thief and a criminal a hell of a lot less complicated. "Nice call," he shrugged simply and did his best to look unimpressed, "I wonder, if you can tell me what I'm thinking? Or what I'm going to do next?" Kyri "You're hoping that I can't," Rothe said, turning his attention away from the lady who had a bleeding lip from her stumble, and who was now scrambling trying to pick up her lost cargo. Rothe seemed almost delighted in her pain, as if he savored it. Adored it. Craved it, even? It was hard to tell. But it wasn't nice, and it wasn't sunshine and roses, that much was for sure. The subtle changes in Gage's body language made him smile, "You're hoping that it was a lucky guess. And I'm making you uneasy with my ability to see things that most people take for granted." Slowly, the blue skinned young man pushed himself off the table and stood tall again, hands trailing over his body to smooth out what wrinkles leaning against furniture had caused his precious suit. Seriously. A kid who willing worse suits. Definitely not normal. "And you're hoping I leave." Gee Roth was correct. To a point. But that was something that Gage really didn't want to dwell on. "I could careless whether you left or not," the pink skinned boy informed his taller companion casually, "You might be a pain in the a**, but you're not boring." Unlike the pile of encyclopdia's that sat on the table in front of them. It occured to Gage that he should swap them for some other, much more interesting fiction stories soon. There was nothing he enjoyed more than curling up in the barn, amongst the hay and the animals, with a good novel. With a sigh, the pink skinned little boy stood up and brushed passed Rothe. He stopped beside one of the books that the poor lady had dropped and bent down to retrieve it for her. Kyri "Well, thank you for pointing out the obvious. I strive to be both." He actually laughed at that one, shaking his head and moving to sit down at the table across from the blond, reaching out to look at what drivel the boy was reading, "Ugh. Useless facts." He tried not to show his disgust at the encyclopedias and somehow managed it. It wasn't hard for him to hide things on his face - it came from years of being forced to do so - but he hated cleaning himself up for others. However, he did enjoy appearing perfect and the look of disgust didn't suit him very well currently. When Gage got up to help, tlady thanked him profusely, reached out for the book, and managed to get her blood on Gage's hand. Which, unfortunately, burned. Badly. Poisonous blood, it seemed, and Rothe tilted his head as if he'd known it all along. He didn't, of course, he had no pregcognitive powers, or powers of any kind. It was simply amusing to see Gage get bled on. Gee Gage was too busy trying to help the injured, scrambling lady to pay much attention to what Rothe was doing. He wasn't worried about the fate of the encyclopedia's, as they did not belong to him and could be easily found elsewhere. They were not signed out under his name, had not yet left the library in his hands and therefore were not his responsibility. Besides, he doubted that even Rothe could have any reason for damaging something as harmless as an encyclopedia. Unless he had something against a specific letter. His own guaridan had an extreme dislike for exclamation marks. "You're welcome," he told the lady kindly as she reached for the book. The pink skinned boy did not recoil immediately when her blood splashed on his hand, because he did not want to seem rude, but he clamped his teeth together and did his best to hide the pain it'd caused him. He knew that some diseases could easily be transfered through blood and, when it occured to him that her blood might be burning a hole right into his skin, Gage spun around on his heal and headed back towards Rothe. "Damn," he hissed impatiently as he attempted to wipe the liquid off on his shirt.
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