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 Posted: Sat Feb 14, 2009 9:27 am
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Posted: Sat Feb 14, 2009 12:49 pm
Donna, for all purposes had decided to build a bed for the baby to be. The woman had little to no architectural training, nothing to her name of carpentry, and one could rule out metal-working. However, she had a bottle of whiskey and the blueprints her avian son had drawn up. Granted, it would turn out much more elegant if he were to make it, being self-taught and quite the natural at it but he was away on a date with a squirrel, leaving his mother to her odd devices. So odd that at the moment she was holding the plans sideways and eyeing her materials. ‘Insert rod A into slot B…’
That had gone out the window in the first ten minutes.
Right now, what existed was what appeared to be a jumble of metal protruding in all different directions. The mobile was hanging outside the crib, the bars forming what looked to be a diamond patterned cage.
Simply put, it wasn’t working, and promptly collapsed as the shaky woman leaned on it. Ok, so this probably hadn’t been her best idea! The loud clatter of the bars caused one of her brothers to poke his head in. It was Evel.
“You look like you could use some help…and sobering at that, my sister.”
The fluently cold tones of her sibling caused her to start, turning on him and glaring slightly. “Go away, Evel. I’m fine…” she glanced at the heap and tried to conceal it a little better. It was in vain though, for the boy let himself in and pushed her aside, picking up one of the rods and twirling it around. A grin split his thin features. “I think you need more help than you know…but we’ll send you to a therapist later. Right now, let me help you build this thing.”
The woman was nonplussed and shrugged, looking off in a mood. “Do whatever you want with it, I guess.”
Permission granted, he began assembling it correctly, following the directions and even adjusting them to be a bit more detailed in places. What had taken her half an hour to do he completed within fifteen minutes, assembled to actually LOOK like what it was intended to be instead of a steel death trap.
Donna glared at him, taking another swig of whiskey and muttering darkly to herself. Stupid showoff of a psychic…something warm brushed her cheek, and blush crept up. She turned to see what the hell he was thinking but by then he was at the door, waving as he slipped out. “You’re welcome, sis.”
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Posted: Sun Feb 15, 2009 5:24 pm
Stone hued walls were distinctly dull. Donna wasn't sure WHAT she was doing with it, but a rainbow assortment of paint cans were spread out all over the room, with all the tools one could imagine. Now, if she had any idea how to use any of it, this would be a great opportunity. However, as she was about as artistic as Dragon was spontaneous, painting was not the best idea.
Not that she hadn't tried to get help.
Erik was busy doing Evel. Damien was busy making dinner. Aaron was busy...well...ruling the entire kingdom. Each had their own good reason, but most commonly it was because they didn't feel like dealing with their sister. The only one left in the household who was artistically gifted was Raizen and getting him to paint was going to be like pulling teeth.
Donna slipped out of the room and sought out her brother. The man wasn't too terribly difficult to locate. Raizen was in his study, reading glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. Ice blue eyes scanned the lengthy document on his desk, not even flickering at her arrival. The soft click of the door didn't exist to him and Donna was almost sure he was ignoring her or simply hadn't realized she was there until he spoke, "What...do you want, Donna? I'm busy, as you can obviously see. So that means it's either trouble or money - which is it?"
The woman nervously fiddled with the necklace and chuckled at him. "Funny, Rai, always a comedian-" "So you're in trouble than." "NO! No. Not this time, exactly, I do need your help with something."
This caught the man off guard and he set down what he was doing to look up and quirk a brow at her. This was definitely not like Donna and he was almost afraid as he queried the matter, "Help with what?" Donna held up her necklace, knowing he would get it. Raizen groaned, putting his face in his hands. "You too?! Jeez, the purple bellhop strikes again - and why YOU of all people?" "Hey!" "Sorry, sorry...now, what do you want with me involving your...dirt?" Donna grinned at this. Finally they had gotten to the point! She put on her best begging eyes and leaned heavily on his desk. "Raaaaaaiiii...could you paint his room for me, pretty, pretty, pretty please?" The man frowned, looking back down to his paper which had been obscured by a pair of tits. "I most certainly will not, Donna, the idea of it. I am a doctor, not a painter. I'll give you the money to hire someone if you need it."
Raizen expected her to leave in a huff. What he got was more tits. Donna climbed further on the desk and pushed her bosom up to eye level. "Please, Rai..." Now this would have worked with anyone who wasn't gayer than He-Man marching in the pride parade, but as Raizen was exclusively into men, it only served as an embarrassing annoyance. He turned away in distaste, "Donna, put those away! For the love of my father above!!" This only provoked her further, a malicious grin of the cat about to eat the bird spreading over her face as she began undoing her buttons, laying on his desk and arching her back. "Pleeeeeeeeease Rai...I want...I want it...so much..."
Red heat crept onto his face and he closed his eyes, pushing her away as best he could. "Good GODS, woman, AWAY with you!!" "Will you paint my room?" At risk of Donna taking off any more clothes, he finally relented, "YES for GODS SAKE YES. Just put on your clothes and get OUT of my office!"
That was all that he had to say. Donna picked herself up, put herself right, and straightened his desk, walking out with a pleasant smile and a wave. "Thanks, Rai, I knew you would do anything to keep your little sister happy. The supplies are in the room, so just do whatever you feel like, ok?" A groan confirmed his understanding and sent her off about her own business.
By the end of the night, the room was painted. The walls remained gray but a great deal of detail was given to giving it dimension through simple techniques. Moss was cultivated through cracks it hadn't been before, vine tendrils climbing across the wall in spider-web thin lace, silver highlights of almost metalic quality reflecting light as it bounced off of it. The room had become a living rock garden of oil paints and stain which any child would fall asleep comfortably within, especially with the final detail. The ceiling painted midnight blue with stars scattered across its vast sky. Donna's child would never worry for a cloudy night, and sleep tightly within its gentle illumination.
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Posted: Mon Feb 16, 2009 4:17 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 01, 2009 5:57 pm
Donna was dancing in the kitchen. The tot had been plopped onto the counter and was currently getting dinner and a show. It had been forever since Donna had cooked anything, but whatever it was smelled edible enough. As she cooked, the woman sang. The lyrics probably weren’t the best idea to utter around a small, impressionable toddler, but Donna sang lustily regardless, occasionally throwing flour in his direction. Tristan was an angel as far as his mother was concerned. From the moment she’d got him, he’d been quiet, clean, and a generally easy kid to deal with. The best part by far though was that he didn’t seem able to speak yet.
This said, Donna didn’t give a second thought as she broke out singing, “If you feel so filthy, so dirty, so ******** up…” The song continued on as she began mixing her concoction, the lyrics lowering into a humming sound as she began to concentrate. The line repeated in her head again and again, but after a few minutes her mental voice was replaced with the gentle tones of a child, “********?” That was odd…Donna stopped, looking up from her cooking, trying to think whether or not she’d said that. “********?” No, definitely not…her eyes widened as she turned to the child with wide eyes, querying, “Did you say ‘********’?” The boy’s inquisitive green eyes peered up at his mother, a serious look of contemplation upon the toddler’s face as he nodded and repeated the word back at her, this time forming a short sentence, “Mama ******** s**t…Donna’s jaw probably dropped a few feet as she put a hand over his mouth and shushed him. “NO. No. I didn’t and you don’t. T-that’s not a good word…” Little hands tugged at the hand, succeeding in moving a few fingers to be audible as he spoke again, “********?” “Stop saying that!” s**t…her brothers were going to be home soon and here she was with a sailor infant, trying to shoosh him.
Tristan didn’t understand. Why was his mother suddenly upset? She had been singing it just a few minutes ago. He looked sad, and absolutely confused. As he went to say it again he found her hand back over his mouth, gently pleading for him not to say that word. He waited for her to remove it before inquiring softly, “Mama?” to which his mother nodded sagely.
Donna wasn’t much for hypocrisy though. She ruefully rubbed the back of her head. “Mama shouldn’t say it either – so let’s not say it…especially to..” The door to the kitchen opened and her brother stepped in, carrying the small bunny girl he had been gifted with. Raizen wasn’t paying too much attention to them until the little boy waved gleefully to Amber and decided to use the new addition to his vocabulary, “********!” The girl didn’t seem to know what it meant but almost went to repeat it before her father, nearly having a heart attack, as he covered her ears. The man looked livid, causing Donna to gently slide Tristan behind her on the counter, chuckling nervously. “Hi Rai-..” “WHAT have you been teaching that roughian!!?!” Despite her ears being uncomfortably covered, the little girl tugged at her dad’s sleeve, “Daddy, what’s a ‘********’?” Raizen was not as forgiving as Donna and promptly smacked his daughter with a light touch, causing the girl to start sniffling at being punished. “That Is a word I will not have my little lady saying, that’s what! So help me, Donna, if your child says that word to Amber again, you will be confined to your room to teach him some manners!”
The woman was nonplussed. She picked up her kid, and promptly walked up to slap Raizen. The man didn’t move as she did so, glaring contemptuously at her as she stroked back Amber’s hair and made her leave. Once they were well out of earshot, Tristan whispered something to his mother, “Mama, I don’t think I wanna say that word no more…I’m sorry, mama…I love you.” Donna only nodded and smiled a little, hugging him as they walked out of the castle. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat…how does McJuridia sound?”
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Posted: Tue Mar 17, 2009 8:41 pm
“I before E except after C and all that…and let’s see…” Donna was flipping through several cards. Feeling she ought to make some effort to educate Tristan as she hadn’t yet located a preschool just yet. The toddler had been secured in a set and looked completely baffled by the things she was going on about. Sofar he’d learned absolutely nothing but what an allen wrench looks like and that the moon wasn’t made out of cheese. The woman seemed happy though, so occasionally he would repeat a word or phrase to keep her in such a pleasant mood. The toddler tried his best to remember it, “I afore He accept afta See?” “Close enough.”
Donna rummaged through her notes again once she was sure he’d gotten that down pat. Why did all of these kid flashcards have such useless information? She seriously doubted he’d ever use some of this stuff. The turkey says ‘gobble gobble’? Yeah, that screamed vital information. So she made up something else, “If it tastes good, never ask what’s in it. And if it’s too good to be true, it usually is.” The toddler looked utterly confused.
Thankfully, he was not the only one, as Zael had happened in upon the lesson and was giving his sister a look of confusion. “Donna, what the hell are you doing to that kid?” The woman looked perturbed, “I’m teaching him the facts of life, thank you very much. Important stuff.” Facts of life? Zael couldn’t help himself and begun illustrating a particularly naughty fisting technique with his other hand, “Ok, so when two men love each other a whole ******** lot they get naked and the bone by shovi-“ He didn’t get much further as a pillow slapped him straight in the mouth. The man was persistent, deciding to berate his sibling rather than continue scarring the kid.
He quirked a brow, “Why the hell are you teaching him this stuff anyways? Shouldn’t he be learning to, ya know, read and write? Count to ten?” “Details, details…he’ll learn those when it’s useful.” “Like, everyday?” Another pillow found itself aimed at him, this time hitting air as he stepped aside. “Stop correcting my methods of educating him. This is useful stuff, stuff I wish that someone had taught me when I was his age.” Donna smiled at Tristan, feeling justified despite his look of calm confusion. Zael simply rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I guess so. After all, I guess it’s just a fact of life.”
At this Donna chuckled and nodded, reaching over to lovingly ruffle her child’s hair. “Exactly.”
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Posted: Tue Mar 17, 2009 8:49 pm
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Posted: Wed Mar 25, 2009 8:08 pm
Even the most energetic of Arrikanez needed their sleep. Most of the living room had been roped off by this point. Makeshift barriers had been constructed out of sheets, linens, curtains, and whatever else the woman had been capable of laying hands to. It wasn't exactly what one would call a well formed playpen but hey - she hadn't exactly anticipated motherhood and didn't have much of the equipment. Whatever, it had served its purpose in being so hopefully complex that a toddler had little hope of escaping the set boundaries. As inept as Donna seemed to be at parenting, being passed out on the couch nearby, at least she had learned a fundamental rule of parenthood - keep your young close and contained at all times.
Frankly - Tristan was confused as to what in the world was going on. The extensive measures made him feel stifled and secluded. This feeling was perhaps fostered by the sight of the occasional family member passing just out of reach of the guidelines. The boy frowned as he got as far as he could manage through the barricade and observed them.
One of them noticed him as they passed. It was another child, about his own age, whom he was passingly familiar with. The bunny girl's step faltered from the cadence she'd kept to follow her father to her art lesson and she strayed a pace more to stand at the edge. She inclined her head a bit, her face screwed up a little in confusion. "Whacha doin in der, Tristan? It's awfully...tangly...did your momma get mad?" The boy shook his head, though he honestly wasn't sure at this point. "No, mama's asleep over there...I dunno..." the boy shuffled his feet a bit, unsure of what this feeling was. Embarrassment? Maybe. He knew he wasn't in trouble, but felt bad now that Amber was looking in on him from outside. In his worry he didn't notice her try to get his attention again until a notepad and a piece of charcoal was pushed under his downward gaze. "Here! You can have this. Kay? Practice makes perfect..."
Tristan blinked, confused, but found himself taking it regardless. Just what was he supposed to do with it? Before he could ask, a loud call emanated from the western hall, "Amber! Come, we're going to be late!" The girl seemed anxious as she stepped away, nearly running in place, "Sorry bout you bein in there, Tristan. I gotta go now - bye!" And then she ran off, leaving the boy more than a bit dumbfounded and alone for what it was worth.
He looked down at the materials before deciding it was at least something to do. It sure as heck beat sitting all alone in a mess of blankets anyways. The toddler pushed the pad and charcoal up onto the seat of one of the large armchairs that had also been captured in his mother's web. He climbed up after it and looked at the blank parchment, deciding what should go on it. Amber had given it to him, so she seemed a good a thing as any. The boy began scribbling the girl's likeness onto the sheeting, lines and edges rough and jagged and only very loosely resembling what was supposed to be Amber's face.
That didn't look right...Tristan was determined to keep himself occupied though, and continued drawing whomever passed by until the first page was crowded with various scribbled and smudged faces that struck the boy as interesting. The final strokes he made were slow, the edge of the charcoal splintering as he pressed a bit too hard, his perception fuzzing slightly as he struggled to focus.
In the quiet of the room and the warmth of the day, even the least energetic child found himself drifting off, and found the boundaries that confined were comforting in more ways than one. Commandeering a nearby "wall" the boy curled up into the armchair and slept.
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Posted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 7:40 pm
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Posted: Thu Apr 02, 2009 8:21 pm
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