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 Posted: Mon Oct 31, 2016 1:22 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2016 12:51 pm
Trick Or Treat
(Chocolate makes up for everything... Right?)
(Part 1 of 4) HALLOWEEN PROMPT Although he might not have originally intended to take his niece and nephew out trick or treating, it happened and Oliver was out for a little while. Despite any fun he might have had, he's sure to be happy to be home, especially with thunder starting to rumble in the distance. Time to settle in, put his feet up, maybe have a drink and then---CRASH! Something upstairs makes a hell of a racket and now Oliver has to go and investigate. The lights flicker once, twice, and if they go a third time chances are they'll be out for good. What does he find that caused the noise? What happens when it is discovered?
The professor, or for the sake of the night, the vampire professor, watched the pair cross lawn after lawn with the other children and squinted. Devin seemed to be acting a bit off, but he couldn't quite place it. The teenager would stop every so often, scratch at his arms and look around, before rushing to catch up with Anna Sage. Maybe his costume was bothering him? It was made of cheap material... He adjusted his stance and leaned back. He'd run a bath for him later if he wanted.
"Hm... It's almost 8:30. Peter will be arriving soon." He muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Anna Sage, Devin! It's getting late! Let's head back and have something to drink!"Anna Sage paused and pouted. Aww, really? She looked down to her candy bag and sighed. Well, it was a good haul! She couldn't be too mad about a three fourths of the way full bag! The brunette tossed the sack over her arm and reached out for Devin's hand, only to pause when he didn't reach out in return.
"Devin? You okay?" She asked, tilting her head up to him. "Uncle Ollie's calling us back inside."Devin, clad in a traditional Frankenstein's monster get up, squinted into the distance and eventually shook himself out of a daze. He sighed, looked down to his cousin, and offered her a smile.
"Oh, better not keep him waiting, then." He said, taking Anna's hand and waving to Oliver with the other. "Be right there, uncle Oliver!"
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Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2016 9:44 pm
Piling On
(The stress just keeps on coming, doesn't it?)
(Part 2 of 4) HALLOWEEN PROMPT Although he might not have originally intended to take his niece and nephew out trick or treating, it happened and Oliver was out for a little while. Despite any fun he might have had, he's sure to be happy to be home, especially with thunder starting to rumble in the distance. Time to settle in, put his feet up, maybe have a drink and then---CRASH! Something upstairs makes a hell of a racket and now Oliver has to go and investigate. The lights flicker once, twice, and if they go a third time chances are they'll be out for good. What does he find that caused the noise? What happens when it is discovered?
SMASH!
"What the hell was that?" He gasped, leaping into an upright position. That certainly hadn't been thunder, it sounded more like something bashing itself against the floor upstairs! He rose slowly and pivoted around the corner, just as the lights flickered. He took a breath in and reached for one of the flashlights on his counter, only grabbing it when the lights flickered again. If it happened again, it was best to be prepared.
He started his ascent up the stairs when a rummaging sound from above him grabbed his attention. The attic? Was it Devin messing with his candy bag? Did he knock something over?
"Devin? Is everything alright up there?" He called, wandering toward the attic door. "... I'm coming up!"
With no answer from his nephew, Oliver's mind immediately went for the worst case scenarios, espescially because of Thatcher's illness. What if Devin had a seizure and couldn't cry out for help? Did Oliver have his medical records for that sort of emergency? Did Thatcher even know where to find those documents? The professor rushed up the stairs and practically leaped into the attic.
"Answer me, Devin!" He shouted, turning the flashlight on glancing about frantically. "... What's all this...?"
He stepped forward, noticing a large pile of clothes strewn out in the middle of the floor. He assumed the most of it was Devin's dirty laundry, but it wasn't like his nephew to leave things out like this, even if he was a teenager. He did his own wash without asking, usually.
But, more importantly, where was Devin? Oliver glanced up from the pile and flailed the flashlight about the room. There was no sign of him, but his shoes were neatly placed by his bed and his costume was laying folded on a chair. Where could have he gone?
Oliver leaned back and shook his head, before looking down to the pile of clothes again. ... Was something... Moving in there? He tossed the flashlight aside and quickly threw layers of clothing off from the pile, before stumbling backward.
"Y-you're... Oh my... Oh my God!" He cried, scrambling back to his feet. "What the hell happened to you?"
Two teal eyes flexed from under the pile and watched Oliver carefully. The screaming blond man had disturbed his resting space, but for some reason, he didn't want to attack him. Instead, the now fur covered Devin crawled out from the pile and resumed chewing on a pair of dirty socks. This was far more interesting than any screaming thing, and tasty too."Mother of God..." Oliver sighed, running his hand down his face. "You've turned into a WEREWOLF? How could this happen? Why did this happen?"
And why did this have to happen in his house?
He grasped at the side of his head while Were-Devin continued his assault on the smelly sock, and slowly rose to his feet. Okay, there had to be something he could do. A cure, before anyone had to find out, and more importantly, before Devin had to leave for school tomorrow. He retrieved the flashlight, took a deep breath, and snapped his fingers.
"Come on, leave the sock alone and come downstairs with me." He commanded, slapping his leg. "I don't know if you're even the least bit in there right now, but I'm going to treat you like a dog until you prove me otherwise."
He stepped down the stairs and tried to think of just what to do next, when Were-Devin hopped down the stairs and slammed face-first into the wall below. Cringing, Oliver hustled down to his laptop, praying that he could still use the internet during the storm.
"Don't worry, Dev! I'm sure there's something we can do!" He said, practically ripping his laptop charger out of the wall. "... I'm just not sure what that is yet!"
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Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2016 9:16 pm
WereMD
(Like WebMD, but for the supernaturally afflicted)
(Part 3 of 4) HALLOWEEN PROMPT Although he might not have originally intended to take his niece and nephew out trick or treating, it happened and Oliver was out for a little while. Despite any fun he might have had, he's sure to be happy to be home, especially with thunder starting to rumble in the distance. Time to settle in, put his feet up, maybe have a drink and then---CRASH! Something upstairs makes a hell of a racket and now Oliver has to go and investigate. The lights flicker once, twice, and if they go a third time chances are they'll be out for good. What does he find that caused the noise? What happens when it is discovered?
"NEPHEW HAS TURNED INTO WEREWOLF HELP" Turned up several family counseling services.
"HOW TO CURE WEREWOLF" Brought him several topics on reasons why not to cure werewolves.
"HWOY ******** DO CURENPWEH" Was a mistype, which only made Oliver's jaw clench further.
He leaned over the laptop and met eyes with Were-Devin, who had placed himself directly in front of the door. It was almost endearing to see just how curious and harmless he was, even as a giant, hairy version of himself. Still, the staring made Oliver nervous, and he snapped his fingers.
"Go on, out! I don't need you staring bullets into me." He grumbled, waving him away and gasping. Wait, weren't silver bullets a cure? He frantically typed another set of terms.Were-Devin liked watching the strange man stare at the bright light and chew his hands. It was like staring at a frightened animal with nowhere to run. However, at his booming command, the red-furred beast scampered out into the living room and grunted. Okay, what now? He sniffed the ground.
CAT. Meanwhile, Oliver's efforts at finding a cure only continued to disappoint him. Silver bullets were supposedly what killed werewolves, not cured them. He certainly didn't want to kill his nephew! He ran a hand down his face and stared at the screen. There had to be something he wasn't trying. A singular term, a question. He felt like he'd tried everything under the sun! What else was there left to search for?
He leaned on his hand and blew out a puff of air, before it dawned on him.
"Werewolf" He entered, hope glinting in his eyes. The first thing that popped up was a Wikipedia article, one that he hoped would hold at least a temporary cure, if not a permanent one.The cat was being illusive it seemed, but after only a five minute search, Were-Devin had grown bored. He returned to the living room, peered in on the strange man, and retreated toward the couch. Chasing cat scent was tiring... It was time to curl up for a nap.
However, as soon as he was comfortable enough, the scent of the couch cushions grabbed his attention. They didn't look very appetizing, but some old pizza stains told him otherwise. His maw opened and clamped down on them with a forceful, yet satisfying chomp."Characteristics, becoming a werewolf... Ah! Remedies! Thank goodness!"
Oliver grasped the edge of his desk as he read, his expression twisting from relieved to concerned as he went along. The Ancient Greeks and Romans believed in the power of exhaustion to cure lycanthropy, which basically meant making the afflicted person run until they were too tired to function, but that only paled in comparison to medieval Europe. Exorcism, surgery, medicating with poisonous plants such as wolfsbane? Oliver shook his head in disbelief. He couldn't do any of these things to Devin, he'd rather hurt himself instead! He bit his nails.
"Striking the scalp with a knife? Piercing hands with nails? This is insanity!" He cried, taking a deep breath. "There has got to be one thing here that isn't about inflicting bodily harm!"
He scrolled down the list and paused, his eyes darting toward the sentence "Sometimes, less extreme methods were used." However, these methods, though harmless, seemed quite far-fetched. In Germany, a common cure was simply calling the werewolf by it's name three times, while scolding the werewolf was popular in Denmark. Oliver couldn't fathom how either of these methods could work, but now that Devin was, indeed, an actual living, breathing, werewolf, there was little to stop him from trying.
"Okay, Devin?" He called, stepping out of the office and into the living room. "I found a cure, and even if I don't know if it'll work, we should at least try i-WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THE COUCH?"Were-Devin shot up from his couch cushion snacking and stared, wide-eyed, at the strange man. W-why was he yelling at him? What did he do? He leaned down submissively and brushed his chin against what remained of the cushion he'd been chewing. "No. Get down!" Oliver shouted, waving his arms about. "Look, I know you're kind of a giant furry animal right now, but for ******** sake, the couch isn't edible! Stop looking so puppy-eyed and get down this instant!"The couch was why he was yelling? Were-Devin glanced down and let out a whine. Oh, had he done that? ... Wait, had he done that?
Slowly, Were-Devin's brows furrowed in confusion and his body faded back to his familiar teenage form from before. However, now that he had his normal, human mind again, the red-head couldn't do much more than stare at the ground. It was only when he looked up to Oliver and started to tear up that the blond decided to break the silence."... Hang tight, kiddo. I'll make us some tea." Oliver sighed. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Devin alone to process what happened. Hopefully, once he had his wits around himself again, he'd be able to answer some questions. ... Or at the very least help clean up the mess he'd made.
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Posted: Mon Nov 21, 2016 1:57 pm
A New Day
(Midnight comes knocking and the dawn of Devin's new life as a werewolf approaches)
(Part 4 of 4) HALLOWEEN PROMPT Although he might not have originally intended to take his niece and nephew out trick or treating, it happened and Oliver was out for a little while. Despite any fun he might have had, he's sure to be happy to be home, especially with thunder starting to rumble in the distance. Time to settle in, put his feet up, maybe have a drink and then---CRASH! Something upstairs makes a hell of a racket and now Oliver has to go and investigate. The lights flicker once, twice, and if they go a third time chances are they'll be out for good. What does he find that caused the noise? What happens when it is discovered?
"... Are you okay to talk now?" He asked, placing an arm gently around Devin's back. "I think it would be wise to try to figure out how this happened to you, at least before you return to school."Devin stared out at the candles from the comfort of his blanket-hood and subtly slumped into his uncle's side. Though his eyes were still far from dry and he wasn't nearly close enough to comprehending everything, he tilted his head toward Oliver and nodded slowly. He'd thought about it long enough, and he was almost sure that he had an answer.
"A classmate, my dormmate's friend," He began, pausing to nudge the blanket off of his head. "He got a little weird at a party the other night. It was a small thing, just an after-school club meeting that carried on past nine, and since it was a Friday night, none of us really cared about how long we hung out."
He squirmed, his hand reaching out for Oliver's arm as he spoke. Though the dimness of the room wouldn't give it away, a bright red blush had crossed his cheeks, and his next sentence came out hushed.
"We went back to my dorm, kinda made out..." He winced, scanning Oliver for any sort of negative reaction. "... And then he... Bit me. Square on the shoulder, like, here."
He wiggled out of the blanket just enough to expose his left shoulder, where a decent sized bite mark still lingered.
"Broke right through my skin, hurt like hell, and he freaked out and left. Haven't seen him since then."Oliver arched a brow. He didn't think Devin was telling him the complete truth about this so called "after school club meeting", but he felt it was best to leave it. After all, there was far more to take in from this story than that alone.
"Well, you've certainly been doing more than studying." He chuckled, smirking as he caught a side glare from Devin. "Listen, the kissing can stay between us if you're not comfortable with your dad knowing yet, but the fact that your friend bit you and probably turned you into a werewolf isn't something we can hide from Thatcher forever... We need to figure out how you're going to approach this from now on." "But wait!" Devin gasped, a sweep of horror rushing over his features. "I thought you cured me! Don't tell me that I need to go through this again!""I... I'm not sure if what I did is a permanent cure, Devin." Oliver replied, reaching out to touch Devin's shoulder. "It might only work once every turn, maybe for a while... I don't know, but it was one of the only cures that didn't involve stabbing you with a knife or calling a priest. I'm relieved that it worked for the time being, but I don't know how long or if it will last."
He pulled Devin close and rubbed his back, hoping that would help avoid another breakdown. However, a large patch of fur had him pulling back with a gasp. Devin still looked the same, but it was obvious that the hair on his body was rapidly growing. The blond shook his head in dismay.
"I'm sorry, Devin, I'm not sure what to do!" He stammered, touching Devin's hands as they started to twist again into claws. "Try to focus, stay with me! Don't let it control your mind!"Devin's eyes rested on Oliver's and stared while the rest of his body began it's steady transformation again. He heard his uncle's words and clenched his fists, fighting with all of his might to keep whatever shred of human thought he had left with him while he turned. It seemed to work for a moment, but then, everything changed. Suddenly, the world was colored differently, everything had a strong scent, and he was struggling to figure out what was going on.
He looked to Oliver across the way, whined hopelessly, and immediately forgot why. He was back to looking at a stranger, a friendly, nice smelling stranger, but a stranger all the same."No!" Oliver shouted, his hands shooting upward toward Devin's cheeks. He grasped them, in vain, as they disappeared into a mop of fur, and heaved a breath of frustration. Damn it, damn it to hell! Now his nephew was back to being a giant, clueless werewolf again! He balled his hands into fists and grabbed at his hair. What was he going to do now? Was he supposed to scold him again? For what? Doing something he couldn't control? This was ridiculous!
He leaned away from Were-Devin, who had tilted his head in confusion, and forced himself to take deep breaths. He had to remain calm. He couldn't think if he wasn't calm. If he wasn't calm, there wouldn't be a solution. If there wasn't a solution, Devin might never go back to normal again. If Devin didn't go back to normal, Thatcher would be upset. If Thatcher got upset, he might have a seizure. If Thatcher had a seizure, he might die. If Thatcher died-
BANG BANG BANG!
Oliver raised his head. A knock at the door? At this hour? His face peeled back in disbelief. It couldn't be a trick or treater out this late and a storm like this would deter even the most mischievous of pranksters... This had to be something bad.
He looked to Were-Devin, who was fixated on the door, and thanked the stars that Izzie was too afraid of thunder to come check out what was causing all this noise. He pulled himself up, motioning for Were-Devin to stay where he was, and approached the door cautiously. The wind outside howled, causing all sorts of clatter and racket out on the deck as Oliver peered through the blinds. However, as he ever so slowly opened the door, a sudden, eerie stillness gave him the chills.
"H-hello? Can I help you?" He asked, his voice barely more than a whimper.
Nothing was there to greet him, not even a gust of wind to blow across his brow, and that brought him absolutely no comfort. However, as he was about to shove the door shut and lock it, a glint from the road in the distance caught his attention and he leaned out again.
"Hey, I see you there! Show yourself!" He cried, only to gasp as his foot knocked into something propped against his door. He quickly looked down, furrowed his brow, and stared out at the street again. The glint was gone, but whatever it was, it had only made itself known so he would find the basket it left on his porch. The professor leaned down, his eyes still firmly glued to the road, and snatched the basket up with one swoop and slammed the door shut. He made sure to check that it was locked three times before returning to the living room and quickly turned his attention to the basket.
"What is all this?" He questioned, squinting at the vial and papers tucked inside. He nudged Were-Devin's inquisitive nose away and tugged one of the papers out, his mouth drawing into a tightly puckered "o" as he read.
"To Devin, and by circumstance, Mr. Kipling,
I'm sorry that I didn't have the chance to give this to Devin at school before! I had no idea he was coming to visit you for Halloween. I should have known when he had a costume set up and a sleep away bag backed on Friday night. Serves me right for not being careful, I guess.
I've given you what my group and I call "the werewolf starter kit." Everything Devin needs to know about being a functioning werewolf is there, hopefully, in writing, as well as directions to where we all meet up during the full moon each month. It's only kids from our school and other schools, as far as I know, and I've never had any trouble, so don't be worried about him. I'll make sure he feels safe and welcome.
The vial, though, is super important. Over thousands of years of turning and having little to no recollection of it each month, we werewolves have come up with a solution. If you give this to him before or shortly after he turns, he should be able to regain his "human mind" while still in werewolf form. It's not something that can cure him, but it can make this a lot easier to cope with. Believe me, I'm writing this right now as a werewolf and I can confirm that it works.
There should be a recipe for it in there somewhere just in case he needs to make some while he's not with us, but like I said, I'll be looking out for him from now on. After all, this is my fault and I feel awful. I didn't mean to bite him. It was a weird instinctual thing that I really don't want to go into, and I'm sure you don't want to know anything about. I hope he'll forgive me when I see him back at school tomorrow. Believe it or not, they have a special class for us because of the volume of students who are affected. Crazy stuff, huh?
Anyway, I hope you've had a happy Halloween, and I'm really sorry about all the trouble!
Sincerely,
CJ"
Oliver placed the note aside and blew out long sigh. Well, at least Devin's story lined up perfectly, now all he needed to do was trust that the stuff in this vial actually worked. His gaze went to Were-Devin for a moment, who's eyes had never left the side of Oliver's head, and back to the basket. It would be wise to find the ingredients first. He didn't want to give Devin something he knew nothing about.
He turned the basket upside down and dumped the contents out, before sifting through the papers. He found the directions to the meet up spot first, as well as the place where the classroom was, before finally finding the ingredients written on the back of a piece of parchment paper.
"Mind of a Human potion; For Werewolves who would like to keep their wits about themselves while they're stuck in their Werewolf form.
You will need:
A kettle or saucepan for boiling liquids
One cup of water
One tablespoon rose water
One tablespoon lavender essence
One tablespoon of your favorite drink or liquid flavoring, whatever that may be.
One medium sized ginger root, store bought is fine
Five sprigs of fresh peppermint
One silver coin, any size.
One glass mason jar, with lid
A strainer
One vial or drinking vessel of choice
Directions:
Combine rose water, lavender essence, and favorite liquid of choice with the water. Bring to boil and allow to simmer for ten to fifteen minutes.
Place ginger root, peppermint sprigs, and silver coin into the mason jar. Pour boiled liquid into jar and close it with the lid. Make sure it's tightly sealed, but that you can still remove the lid with ease.
Place jar on a windowsill the night before the full moon, no matter the weather, and let it steep there for twenty four hours.
Strain steeped potion, making sure that the liquid is as clear as possible, and pour what remains into your drinking vessel of choice.
Drink potion at the first sign of turning for best effect, or have someone you trust administer it to you within an hour after turning if doing it yourself is not possible.
Repeat steps each month, as there is no true cure for lycanthropy, only temporary remedies."
Well, the last line of the recipe offered Oliver a bittersweet end to his hopes, but at least there was something they could do. He held the vial toward the candles and examined the liquid for any impurities, and turned toward Were-Devin.
"Alright, Dev, let's hope this brings you back, at least in the mental sense." He said, uncapping the vial with one hand and pulling at Were-Devin's jaw with the other. "Oh, come on, open up! I don't know what time it is, so I can't tell if it's been an hour or not yet! Stop fighting and-!"
The second that Were-Devin's maw opened the slightest bit in protest, Oliver poured the liquid into his mouth and pushed his jaw shut. He held his hand there for a good minute or so before he decided to look up again. ... Was there any sign of change? Did it work? His brows raised in anticipation.
"Do you... Know who I am?" He asked, hesitantly. "... Do you know who you are?"At first, Were-Devin wanted to fight against the hand that was holding his jaw down shut and wiggled slightly in protest. But, as the odd tasting liquid went down his throat and the moments passed by, something started to change within him. His sinuses started to burn and his eyes clenched shut in pain, before a sense of self-recognition seemed to smack him upside the head. He shook, his eyes flaring wide open again, and took a deep breath in.
"MMFPH!" He snorted, nudging his nose upward until Oliver finally let go of his mouth. "I'm not sure what happened, but yeah! I know who I am, I know who you are... I'm just..."
He held his large, clawed hands out in front of him and shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm a ******** werewolf now, that's what I am!" He grumbled, his gaze wandering the room and returning to Oliver. "There's this really weird taste in my mouth, too. Floral, spicy, sweet, and... Metallic? Can I have some water? It's pretty gross."Oliver breathed a heavy sigh of relief. It worked, thank the heavens! Devin had his mind back, even if it was currently in a state of despair and disbelief! He wrapped his arms around as much of him as he could and squeezed.
"Sure, sure, but let me show you this!" He exclaimed, holding out the basket and papers. "You 'friend' CJ must've followed you here and left this for us. Apparently, everything you need to know is in here, along with the recipe for the potion I just gave you. There may not be a cure, but it looks like you have a lot of people to bond with now. Even the school knows about it and accommodates for it based on the number of students affected. I never would've guessed that was something they needed!"
Well, there were a lot of things he would have never guessed actually existed, but if he ever made a list for things like that, this was surely in the top three. Right up there was necromancy and ghosts."C-CJ? Really?" Were-Devin gasped, his ears standing on end as he was handed all of the papers. "... Man, I never would've guessed either! My school seemed pretty boring and bland up until tonight. I wonder what else I've been missing while I've had my nose pressed to books all these years."
He set the papers back down beside Oliver, minding that his new claws didn't tear into any of them, and looked up to the ceiling.
"I know you've been the one putting up with all of this tonight, but I'm bushed." He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. "I wonder what time it is..."
As Were-Devin's voice trailed off, the cuckoo clock in the kitchen started to chime, alerting everyone in the house to the fact that it was now midnight. The werewolf and his uncle looked to one another, cracked a smile, and laughed. "I guess that answers that question, then!" Oliver said, marveling at how the universe seemed to be lining everything up for them. "November 1st, 2016. A new month, and a new start for all of us. Especially for you, Devin." "Ha! Yeah. You're right... It really is." Were-Devin muttered, his muzzle forming into what Oliver could only assume was a strained smile. "... I'll meet up with CJ tomorrow and see what this group is all about. But, uh... You wouldn't mind driving me to campus tomorrow, would you uncle Ollie? I don't think I can take public transport looking like this. I'm kind of a sore thumb right now.""Of course, don't worry about it!" Oliver agreed, patting Were-Devin on the back. "I wouldn't want anything upsetting to happen to you. I'll make sure you get to this group safe and sound.""Thanks, I owe you one." Were-Devin sighed, before looking sheepish. "And... You won't tell dad about the kissing and the after school parties, right? Just the werewolf thing. Everything else stays between us." "As long as you promise me that you're being safe and responsible at these functions, yes. Those things stay between us." Oliver nodded, pausing for a reaction from his nephew. "You are being safe and responsible, right? I have absolutely no reason to be worried about anything other than you being a werewolf now, or are you hiding something from me?""Yes, I promise!" Were-Devin chirped, waving his hands in front of him. "I'm being perfectly responsible and you don't need to fuss about anything else. You have nothing else to worry about. I swear." "Well, alright. Then I've got no reason to talk to your father about anything else but what happened tonight." Oliver replied, smiling. "And, with that said, we both should be heading up to bed. You've got school, I've got work, and we both could use a good night's sleep."
He stood, stretched, and moved toward the stairs. However, before he decided to head up, he looked back to Were-Devin once more.
"Oh, and please don't chew on any more of my cushions. Those were expensive." He chided."Ah! I'm sorry, that won't happen again!" Were-Devin balked. "... I hope." "I'm only teasing, I needed to replace that old couch anyway. Lord only knows how many things have been dropped on it or lived inside of it." Oliver laughed, snickering further as Were-Devin cringed. "Sleep well, kiddo. See you in the morning.""You too, uncle Ollie." Were-Devin replied.
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Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2016 6:10 pm
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2016 6:48 pm
Home
(Laurel learns what "home" is, at least on a tangible level) Laurel didn’t know quite what to think about anything he’d encountered so far. There were some things he liked, such as Oliver’s voice, Zeke’s colorful hair, and the smell of the coat Oliver had given him when they got to the car. And there were some things he didn’t quite like as much, like the brisk chill of the outside air, the sound of the car engine as it revved up, and when Oliver had to swerve to avoid a squirrel on a back-road route. The world, so far, seemed to be filled with interesting things, most of which were overwhelming his senses and puzzling his mind. Everything roused a question from him, and subsequently, an answer or a shrug from Oliver up front. How were they moving? Why was he moving that weird circle?
And what was home?
He’d asked that several times now, or at least Oliver said he had, and still didn’t understand each definition he was given. In some ways it sounded nice, warm, and comfortable, not unlike the inner, fluffy lining of the coat he was snuggling into. But then again, it sounded abstract, confusing, and uncertain, like much of what he’d already seen. It was around the tenth try that Oliver seemed to give up explaining and simply stated that Laurel would have to see it for himself, and that sentiment was both exciting and concerning.
What if he didn’t like home? Would that upset Oliver? He didn’t know why he was so concerned about that to be honest, but it didn’t feel like something he should do. He liked Oliver after all. He was his guardian, his dad. … Which were words that held very little, if any, meaning, but they were clearly important to Oliver. He seemed to smile more at being called dad, and if Laurel could be sure of anything at this point, he liked to see Oliver smile.
Still, that same smile made him anxious as they pulled up to the driveway and came to a stop. Oliver had wasted no time hopping out of the front seat and rushed to open the door, leaving Laurel no choice but to be open and vulnerable to whatever was waiting outside the car. He sunk toward the seat, his brow furrowing with indecision, and looked to Oliver.
“Bumpy ride, huh?” Oliver asked, chuckling softly. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more careful with our route next time.”
He watched Laurel carefully and felt his breath catch in his throat. Poor boy looked scared! Had he gone and screwed everything up already? He’d barely known Laurel an hour! His lips pulled back tight and puckered as his gaze moved toward the house, down the drive, and back to Laurel with a sigh.
“It’s alright if you want to stay here for a bit, just to chill out.” He said, offering a hand down to Laurel. “But I’ve got so much to show you inside… I guess I’m a little too excited.”
Laurel’s ears flicked as Oliver spoke and gently pinned back. He didn’t know how to explain that it wasn’t the ride that was bothering him, it was that he wasn’t sure about home. … However, the idea of staying in the car wasn’t that appealing either. It was getting chilly now that it had stopped and, quite frankly, he didn’t like that. Even with the coat on and zipped, the cold air still managed to seep through somehow and give him a shiver. He took a deep breath in and clasped his hand around Oliver’s.
“N-no, I don’t want to chill.” He said, tugging at the coat with his free hand. “But, uh… Is it warm inside home?”“Yes, and we can turn the heat up tonight if it gets colder.” Oliver replied, gently helping Laurel out of the car. “Though, if you can humor me a moment, take a look at what’s around you right now and tell me what you think.”Laurel paused as he left the cushions of the car behind him and turned to take a long, slow, sweeping, look around.
Well, for starters, there were a lot of trees and green. Also orange, yellow, brown… Plenty of nice colors. He thought that was pretty neat, but a lot of his appreciation for it was being overcome by the breeze nipping at his neck and nose. He grasped his jacket and frowned.
“Can we turn the heat up outside?” He asked, turning his attention away from the lawn and toward the house.
Then, he froze.
“Home?” He gawked, waving awkwardly toward the house.
“That’s right!” Oliver cheered, waving Laurel forward. “Come on, let’s get inside before you catch a cold!”
The phrase “catch a cold” was completely lost on Laurel, but then again, he was more than a little preoccupied with staring at the house. It was unfathomable to him, the size of it… Was he really going to live here, with only Oliver? He hovered after Oliver with a mix of fear and awe.
This was only exacerbated when Oliver lead him inside and a new, very loud sound startled him back toward the door.“Oh, oh! Laurel, it’s okay!” Oliver gasped, nudging Laurel away from the door. “I forgot to tell you about Izzie!”“I-Izzie?” Laurel asked, leaning cautiously toward Oliver. “Who’s Iz-”
His voice was cut off by the sudden appearance of a large, fluffy, wiggling animal, and could do nothing but watch as it bounded up to his father and jumped around. Was that Izzie? If it was… What exactly was Izzie? He felt like he recognized it from somewhere, but once again, he couldn’t place it. Instead of dwelling on it, he looked to Oliver for an answer.
“What is-Why is it licking you?” He chattered, arching a brow as Oliver leaned down and let Izzie lick his face.
“That's how she says that she’s happy to see me, or at least I hope it is.” Oliver laughed, giving Izzie a good scratch on the head before standing straight. “... You shouldn’t do that to people, though.”
Laurel’s nose scrunched. Yeah, no, he wasn’t thinking about doing that. … But he couldn’t help but be curious about how it felt to get licked. Oliver seemed to think it was fine… What was stopping him from trying it? He hovered to Izzie’s level and held his hand out.Izzie, however, had other plans. Laurel was as strange to her as she was to him, and every stranger she’d ever met was to be given the exact same treatment, especially if they came into the house with Oliver. Laurel’s face was quickly overcome with relentless kisses, nuzzles, and most importantly, covered in fur.“Whoa, Izzie, let Laurel breathe!” Oliver shouted, firmly grasping her collar. He tugged her into a seated position and looked to Laurel. “Are you alright?”Was he alright? Laurel wiped the drool off his face and blew a piece of fur away from his nose, before his lips parted into a grin. Sure, nearly being tackled to the ground had been frightening, but getting all those licks and nuzzles had been wonderful, even if Izzie’s breath smelled a little funny. He laughed and dusted himself off.
“Yeah! That was fun!” He said, reaching down to pat Izzie again. “I think I like Izzie!”“Well she sure seems to like you!” Oliver said, releasing Izzie’s collar and moving toward the coat rack. “Now, once we hang our coats up, I’ll show you around the house. I’ve already got your room set up and ready to go!”“Wait… No coats?” Laurel asked, clutching onto one of his sleeves. “I don’t want to… Catch cold?”“You can’t catch cold inside the house,” Oliver explained, smiling. “But if you’re still feeling cold after you take the coat off, I have plenty of sweaters you can borrow to keep warm. We’ll go shopping sometime soon and get you a few of your own, too.”----
Laurel quickly learned that he loved sweaters. It didn’t matter that he’d only ever seen and worn one in his entire life, but something told him that any sweater he’d wear afterwards would be just as magical. Seriously, everything about this thing was far better than he could have imagined. It was super warm, made him feel safe, and smelled a-ma-zing. He wanted to roll himself up inside of it and stay forever covered in it’s wonderful, soft cloth.
This was probably why he started to doze off after watching Oliver make and eat a sandwich in the kitchen. He may as well have been a kitten wrapped in a blanket burrito.Oliver tried to rouse him enough to show him around and had some success on the first floor, before Laurel started to lean against him and mumble. Clearly it was time for a cat nap on the living room couch. The tour could continue later or tomorrow.
“You’ve had a very busy day, haven’t you?” Oliver muttered, patting Laurel on the head as they settled into the couch. “You can take a nap here while I read and we’ll restart the tour once you’re all rested and ready to go.”Laurel, the sleepy bundle of warmth that he was, nestled his head on Oliver’s shoulder and nodded softly. The sound of Oliver’s heartbeat against his ears reminded him of something, just like Izzie had before, but now he was far too tired to think. He yawned, purred, and resigned to a well deserved nap.It didn’t take long for Oliver to follow suit. His eyes fluttered closed about two and a half chapters past his last bookmark and wouldn’t open again until much later, when the sun had already set and the house was cold and dark. Laurel was still fast asleep beside him, but he decided against waking him up. Instead, he scooped his son into his arms, carried him up the stairs, and tucked him into bed.
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Posted: Tue Apr 04, 2017 2:24 pm
What Not To Eat
(Contrary to popular belief, couches have no nutritional value)
(Late November 2016) After a lively first few days, Laurel was content to curl up next to Oliver on what would be their first official lazy day together. There would be no going out in the car, no visits with Yves and Yuri, and nothing to stop them from wearing their pajamas all day. Laurel liked this because it meant he could stay in the old sweater Oliver had given him to sleep in, which was ultra soft, warm, and big enough for him to tuck his arms into like a blanket. He was the epitome of comfort and coziness.
But as the morning lulled on and he began to doze, a familiar feeling rolled over him. He was starting to feel a little too tired and a strange sensation of emptiness lingered above his chest. His face scrunched up in annoyance at this and he was prepared to ignore it, until he remembered how panicked Yuri had been two days before. As frustrated as he was about it, Laurel nudged his arms out from their fabric cocoon and rolled into an upright position.
“Dad, I’m hungry.” He yawned, giving his arms a stretch as his mouth pulled open and closed with a pop. “Can I eat something?”
Oliver’s eyes left his book as Laurel stirred beside him and quickly widened. Oh no, was that what he forgot to look into? The professor took a moment and stared, worriedly, toward the window, and placed the book down on his lap.
“Uh…” He began, flexing his lips as he thought. “... That depends. Do you know what you can eat from?”
“Mmm, well…” Laurel muttered, tapping his chin and furrowing his brow. “I ate Yuri’s lamp and tv last time. Should I do that?”
“No, you shouldn’t do that here.” Oliver replied, his gaze drifting to the side as he recalled the demise of Yves’ television. … But what else was there that Laurel could eat? He surveyed the room from the couch to the kitchen and clicked his tongue. There wasn’t anything here that wouldn’t break or shatter, but he really didn’t want to say that there was nothing. He took a breath and opened his book again. “Give me a minute to finish this chapter and then we can look around, okay?”
“Okay.” Laurel replied.
However, instead of sinking back into the couch again, a touch of curiosity struck Laurel. Oliver was always reading something and it made him wonder, would it be fun to read with him? Did he even know how to read? He furrowed his brow and hovered toward the bookshelf in the next room.
The bookshelf was an old dusty thing and did what it was designed to do, but Laurel quickly found himself frustrated. As misfortune would have it, he couldn’t read the majority of the words on the bindings in front of him and, thus, couldn’t pick a book to bring back to the couch to read. … However, he did like looking at the books, especially the ones with the shiny embroidered sides.
His hand lingered over each cover carefully until he stopped at the side of the bookshelf. A word on one of the books had caught his attention, his name, and he’d only paused a moment to lean in to read it again. However, just as he was reaching for the book with his free hand, he noticed that his resting hand was starting to feel strange. … Where had he felt that pulling sensation before? He squinted.
Oh no.
He tugged his hand away from the bookshelf as fast as he could, but it was of no use. The bookshelf gave a loud creaking sound, as though it were crying out for help, and collapsed into a heap before him. Books scattered left and right, shelves bent and crumbled, and a massive cloud of dust filled the air. Laurel crouched and coughed, his ears pinning back against his head, and looked to the door just as Oliver leapt in.
… It took a good minute for both of them to stop staring at the mess in a mix of horror and bewilderment. They both took the time to look at each other, then the shelf, then the books, before Oliver broke the cycle and opened a window so the dust could clear. Laurel, shivering and sheepish, then helped Oliver clear up the mess.
“I’m sorry, dad.” Laurel apologized, handing the last book to Oliver. “I was looking at a book and it was like my hand did it all by itself! I didn’t mean to break it…”
“It’s alright, Laurel, honestly.” Oliver replied, patting Laurel on the head. “... We just need to start looking for more things that you can eat that aren’t so… Easily breakable.”
But what those things could be was a mystery that illuded Oliver. Laurel’s appetite was considerably voracious, given how drained the bookshelf was after only a moment of feeding. What could be sturdy enough to sustain Laurel and stay intact at the same time? It was like figuring out a puzzle. Oliver looked to Laurel, who had his head low in shame, and hummed.
“Why don’t you try to see if you can eat a little bit of something at a time?” He suggested. “For example, sometimes I eat a few small snacks every few hours instead of a full meal. That way I don’t feel like I’m starving. Maybe you could try that?”
Laurel blinked. Eating a little bit every few hours instead of eating all at once. That wasn’t a solution to what he could eat, but maybe it would be a way to keep him from breaking everything he ate from? He mulled it over and nodded slowly.
“I can try it, but what should I eat from?” He asked.
“Anything, just as long as it’s only a little bit.” Oliver replied.
“Oh.” Laurel said, pursing his lips. “Even the tv?”
“No, not the tv.” Oliver corrected. “Everything else is fair game.”
“What about the couch?” Laurel pressed.
“Okay, not the couch either.” Oliver sighed. “I just got this one replaced after your cousin ruined the last one an-”
“Cousin?” Laurel interrupted.
“Oh, right! I haven’t told you about the rest of your family!” Oliver exclaimed, shaking his head. “Wait for me on the couch and I’ll show you who’s who. I’ve got plenty of pictures.”
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Posted: Sun May 14, 2017 3:24 pm
The Family
(Look at this photograph, every time I do it makes me...)
(Late November 2016; Right after What Not To Eat) The latest Kipling family photo album had taken a bit of scurrying about to find, but soon the pair were back on the couch and cuddled up under a cozy blanket. Oliver, not knowing quite where to start, simply flipped the book open to the first colored tab and held it out for Laurel to see.
“Alright, all of these photographs are from last year.” He began, tapping one of the pictures. “But, just for fun, who do you suppose that is there with the funny hat on his head?” Laurel wiggled and took a good, long look at the picture, before giving Oliver a scrutinizing look.
“That’s you.” He said. “Ah, you’re wrong!” Oliver exclaimed, shaking his head. “That’s one of your uncles, Sherwood. He’d fallen asleep at the party and I couldn’t help but give him a silly hat. Pretty clever, huh?” Clever? Laurel wasn’t sure of what that meant, but the smile on his father’s face suggested that it was something good. For the moment, though, Laurel was far more interested in this Sherwood guy. He squinted at the image of the rather tired looking man and frowned as the page was turned.
“I wasn’t done looking at him.” He whined. “Sorry, guess I’m just excited.” Oliver replied. “There’s so much family here for you to see, though. I want you to know who’s who before the holidays start. I don’t want you to get overwhelmed.” “Oh.” Laurel said, before arching a brow. “What’s... Holidays?” “Hmm…” Oliver hummed, placing his hand on top of the book as he thought. “Well, holidays are… Special times when families gather together to eat, drink, and celebrate.”
He traced his hand down from the top and over toward a photograph that featured a large, well lit tree with a curly haired, elderly couple grinning in front of it. Smiling, he tapped it.
“For instance, this photo was taken during what our family calls Thanksmas.” He explained. “It’s a holiday we created out of two different ones called Thanksgiving and Christmas. We usually gather here, at our house, for a big dinner sleepover, and give each other gifts the next day… Personally, it’s my favorite holiday.” “Thanksmas…” Laurel muttered, reaching out to touch the photograph. “... So, who are they?” “Your grandparents, my mother and father.” Oliver said. “But you should call them grandma and grandpa, unless one of them tells you otherwise… I can’t imagine they will though.” Laurel nodded gently and admired the photo a moment more before allowing Oliver to turn the page. There, in a series of photos covered with stickers and glitter, was a small grinning child and an older red haired boy. Hovering further out of the blanket, Laurel eagerly pointed toward the center photo.
“He looks like me!” He chirped, looking to Oliver in awe. “Oooh, and I like the red coat she’s wearing…” “Those two little troublemakers are your cousins, Devin and Anna Sage.” Oliver laughed. “We’re actually going to pick Devin up at his school next week and bring him here to stay for the holidays. He stays up in the attic, but I’m sure he won’t mind you coming up to hang out with him.” “And what about Anna Sage?” Laurel asked, grinning from ear to ear. “Will she be staying with us too?” “No, she lives with her parents, but she does like to visit!” Oliver replied, giving Laurel a pat. “Let me see if I can’t find a decent picture of Rosie and Peter somewhere in here…”
He flipped through the book, passing by several more glitter filled pages, and stopped near the end of the album. At the bottom of the page was a photo of a blonde haired woman and a dark haired man snuggling up under the mistletoe, to which Oliver scoffed.
“There they are, the romantics.” He said, offering the album to Laurel. “I’m surprised we don’t have more photos of them alone like that in there, though Rosie is a bit camera shy.” “I like her necklace.” Laurel said, flipping the pages over. “Can I look some more? You went too fast.” “Ha! Of course.” Oliver said, patting Laurel on the head. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you have any questions, okay?”
With Laurel occupied by the album, the professor seized a moment alone to make a cup of tea. However, as he passed through the hallway, a photograph hanging on the wall caught his attention. It was a family photo from when Devin was small on Christmas morning. His hand moved up to touch it, a finger gently gliding toward Thatcher sitting with Devin on his lap, and quickly turned to make his way to the kitchen.
It was hard to believe that photograph was taken twelve years ago.
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Posted: Fri Jul 21, 2017 11:12 pm
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Posted: Wed Jul 26, 2017 2:18 pm
Devin
(Early December 2016) The first chilly rain of December washed it’s way across Oliver’s windshield as he pulled up to the bus station and checked his watch while, Laurel, bundled in as many reasonable layers as possible, could barely tear his eyes away from the window as each droplet tapped against the glass. It was like the sky had opened up and started crying as soon as they’d left the house, leaving the redhead to wonder if that had been the cause. However, after a quick explanation from Oliver, Laurel instead fixated upon the rain itself. The sound it made was entrancing and calming as it descended, and watching the droplets splatter and collide made him feel as though they were racing one another to reach the ground. Breathtaking and fascinating.“Devin should be getting off the bus ahead of us at any moment.” Oliver announced, leaning back to glance at Laurel. “You warm enough, sweetheart?”“Mmm, a little chilly.” Laurel mumbled, pulling away from the window and peering toward the windshield. “Where’s Devin from again? Why doesn’t he live with us?”Oliver tweaked the dial on the heat to the right a bit more and adjusted his jacket, before giving a sigh.
“Devin goes to school in Durem, a town not too far away.” He replied, squinting through the rain. “And he does live with us, just during his days off from school. He lives at the school with the other students when he’s not with us.”“Oh.” Laurel said, his lips twisting slightly to the side. “But what’s a school? Is it like home?”“Why don’t you ask Devin about that?” Oliver suggested, cracking a grin. “Ah! Here he comes now!”“Where?” Laurel shouted, shoving himself forward.
From his angle, he could just about see someone running eagerly toward the car with a book over their head, but not much else. Then, the opposite door on the passenger side opened and Devin hopped in.“Thank God, heat!” Devin heaved, carefully shutting the door and sinking straight into the seat. “The bus driver wouldn’t put the heat on any higher than blizzard cold, uncle Ollie, I swore I was going to freeze to death!”“Glad to see you aren’t an icicle, then!” Oliver laughed, giving a quick glance to Laurel. “I forgot to mention before I left, but I brought someone with me! Say hello?”“Hold on, let me get my hood off here, ugh.” Devin grumbled, tugging the hood back from over his eyes and shaking his head, before looking across to Laurel.
There was a considerable moment of silence that followed. Teal eyes locked with Laurel’s red and both seemed under a spell of disbelief. Devin, slowly blinking, eventually spoke.
“You… You're...” He stuttered, a smile rising to his features. “You’ve got to be my new cousin, aren’t you?”“Yeah!” Laurel chirped, bursting into a smile of his own. “I’m Laurel!”
Carefully, he reached a hand out and touched Devin’s hair, while his other hand reached to comb through his own.
“We have the same hair…” He marveled, continuing to trace over Devin’s freckled cheeks. “You have spots like me, too! Are you a cheetah?”Devin, initially unsure of how to respond, raised his hands up in a similar position. Then, he burst out laughing.
“No, those are my freckles!” He said, moving to pat around Laurel’s ears. “If I were a cheetah, I’d have ears just like you. I’m just a regular boring human.”A loud scoff from Oliver in the front seat caused both boys to pause and stare, albeit for different reasons. Noting this, the professor flashed them a knowing grin.
“You’re both wonderful and perfect, no matter what you’re made of.” He said, shifting the car into drive and pulling away from the station. “Now, what do you say to a nice cup of tea once we get home? That ought to warm you up.”“Absolutely!” Devin agreed. "Tea sounds like a miracle right now."“But I can’t have any.” Laurel added, patting the lower part of his sweater. “No stomach yet.”“Really?” Devin gawked.“Yes, unfortunate, but Laurel can settle for a nice hot blanket fresh from the dryer instead.” Oliver said. “That sound good?”“Yes!” Laurel cheered.“I wouldn’t mind one of those either, uncle Ollie.” Devin chuckled. “Alright, then it’s two cups of tea and a warm blanket pile for everyone.” Oliver said.“And cuddles?” Laurel asked.“And cuddles, too.” Oliver laughed.
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