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 Posted: Tue May 30, 2006 12:58 pm
[ Message temporarily off-line ]
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Posted: Fri Jun 02, 2006 7:56 am
R e s e a r c h
______________ ____ _ _
"Their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe."
-"I'm Still Here" by Johnny Rzeznik
"Draw near ... illustrious Odysseus, flower of the Achaean chivalry, and
bring your ship to rest that you may hear our voices. No seaman ever sailed
his black ship past this place without listening to the sweet voice that
flow from our lips, and none that listened has not been delighted and gone
on a wiser man. For we know all that the Achaeans and Trojans sufferer on
the broad plain of Troy by the will of the gods, and we have foreknowledge
of all that is going to happen on this fruitful earth." [The SIRENS to
Odysseus. Homer, Odyssey 12.184]
Possibility of prophetic abilities?
-----------------
Encyclopedia Mythica (www.pantheon.org)
The Argonauts escaped them because when he heard their song, Orpheus
immediately realized the peril they were in. He took out his lyre and sang a
song so clear and ringing that it drowned the sound of those lovely fatal
voices. When on another journey the Odysseus' ship passed the Sirens, had
the sailors stuff their ears with wax. He had himself tied to the mast for
he wanted to hear their beautiful voices. The Sirens sang when they
approached, their words even more enticing than the melody.
Not only ability to sing that is enchanting. Disturbing.
------------------------------
(www.thanasis.com/sirens.htm)
Homer does not name the Sirens individually nor mention their parentage, but
by using the dual in reference to them he indicates that they were two in
number. Sophocles, in his play Ulysses, called the Sirens daughters of
Phorcus, and agreed with Homer in recognizing only two of them.
Apollonius Rhodius says that the Muse Terpsichore bore the Sirens to
Achelous. Hyginus names four of them, Teles, Raidne, Molpe, and Thelxiope,
and, in agreement with Apollodorus, says that they were the offspring of
Achelous by the Muse Melpomene.
Similarly Apollonius Rhodius describes the Sirens as partly virgins and
partly birds. Aelian tells us that poets and painters represented them as
winged maidens with the feet of birds. Ovid says that the Sirens had the
feet and feathers of birds, but the faces of virgins; and he asks why these
daughters of Achelous, as he calls them, had this hybrid form. Perhaps, he
thinks, it was because they had been playing with Persephone when gloomy Dis
carried her off, and they had begged the gods to grant them wings, that they
might search for their lost playmate over seas as well as land.
In like manner Hyginus describes the Sirens as women above and fowls below,
but he says that their wings and feathers were a punishment inflicted on
them by Demeter for not rescuing Persephone from the clutches of Pluto.
Another story was that they were maidens whom Aphrodite turned into birds
because they chose to remain unmarried. It is said that they once vied with
the Muses in singing, and that the Muses, being victorious, plucked off the
Siren's feathers and made crowns out of them for themselves.
Homer says nothing as to the semi-bird shape of the Sirens, thus leaving us
to infer that they were purely human.
Different forms...for Raidne's sake, I hope Homer's account was the most accurate. Perhaps drawing them as partly bird was simply a symbol for their beautiful voices?
Below is the ancient writer Apollodorus' version
of Odysseus' (Ulysses') encounter with the Sirens
And having come to Circe he was sent on his way by her, and put to sea, and
sailed past the isle of the Sirens. Now the Sirens were Pisinoe, Aglaope,
and Thelxiepia, daughters of Achelous and Melpomene, one of the Muses. One
of them played the lyre, another sang, and another played the flute, and by
these means they were fain to persuade passing mariners to linger; and from
the thighs they had the forms of birds.
Sailing by them, Ulysses wished to hear their song, so by Circe's advice he
stopped the ears of his comrades with wax, and ordered that he should
himself be bound to the mast. And being persuaded by the Sirens to linger,
he begged to be released, but they bound him the more, and so he sailed
past. Now it was predicted of the Sirens that they should themselves die
when a ship should pass them; so die they did.
Which, I wonder, was my siren? Singer or musician? Singer, I think... And is this indeed how she died?
--------------------
(www.crystallinks.com/sirens.html)
The Argonauts were accompanied by the god Orpheus and sailed past in the
ship Argo, he was able to drown out their singing with his music so that
only one man, Butes, heard them and
leapt overboard. The goddess Aphrodite loved Butes and saved his life.
Will there be anyone to save me?
---------------------------
The Argonautica, book 4, lines 885-921:
Now when dawn the light-bringer was touching the edge of heaven, then at the
coming of the swift west wind they went to their thwarts from the land; and
gladly did they draw up the anchors from the deep and made the tackling
ready in due order; and above spread the sail, stretching it taut with the
sheets from the yard-arm. And a fresh breeze wafted the ship on. And soon
they saw a fair island, Anthemoessa, where the clear- voiced Sirens,
daughters of Achelous, used to beguile with their sweet songs whoever cast
anchor there, and then destroy him. Then lovely Terpsichore, one of the
Muses, bare, united with Achelous; and once they tended Demeter's noble
daughter still unwed, and sang to her in chorus; and at that time they were
fashioned in part like birds and in part like maidens to behold. And ever on
the watch from their place of prospect with its fair haven, often from many
had they taken away their sweet return, consuming them with wasting desire;
and suddenly to the heroes, too, they sent forth from their lips a lily-like
voice. And they were already about to cast from the ship the hawsers to the
shore, had not Thracian Orpheus, son of Oeagrus, stringing in his hands his
Bistonian lyre, rung forth the hasty snatch of a rippling melody so that
their ears might be filled with the sound of his twanging; and the lyre
overcame the maidens' voice. And the west wind and the sounding wave rushing
astern bore the ship on; and the Sirens kept uttering their ceaseless song.
But even so the goodly son of Teleon alone of the comrades leapt before them
all from the polished bench into the sea, even Butes, his soul melted by the
clear ringing voice of the Sirens; and he swam through the dark surge to
mount the beach, poor wretch. Quickly would they have robbed him of his
return then and there, but the goddess that rules Eryx, Cypris, in pity
snatched him away, while yet in the eddies, and graciously meeting him saved
him to dwell on the Lilybean height. And the heroes, seized by anguish, left
the Sirens, but other perils still worse, destructive to ships, awaited them.
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2006 11:34 am
M i s h a p______________ ____ _ _ Cal, Raidne, Kierla and Aricia>
Raidne didn't seem to like it here.
The hushed darkness seemed to grate on the wisp; she curled and writhed impatiently on the end of the wand from it's position in his front pocket. But blue-eyed Cal had come here with a purpose. Eyes narrowed, he scanned the shelves on the lower level; but these were books he might find in any Gaian library.
No, he wanted something different. He'd researched Sirens in other libraries; he wanted to see what this one had to say.Birds of a feather flock together, they say.
Well, Kierla certainly was nothing like Cal, and Aricia was nothing like Raidne (unless you said both their origins were Greek); but here they were, flocking in the library anyways.
As Kierla heard someone enter the library, she gave an inward sigh of frustration. There went her solace, her peace and quiet. Now how was she supposed to concentrate? She had a lot to read up on, for she had finally decided to make good her promise on researching the origins of Aricia's friends.
She contemplated just saying nothing, and maybe the other people would ignore (or not notice) her too.
That plan went out the window (along with the birds that flocked together) as Aricia suddenly gave a remorselessly loud shriek. "HIIIIIIIBOO!""An Overview of Marine Biology" slipped from Cal's fingers and landed with a soft thud as somewhere, something shrilled. Teeth gritted against the sound, at first he turned an accusing eye at Raidne; but she greeted him with a low soothing hum, amost as if to say, "It wasn't me."
One long, slim hand gathered the tome once more, the other holding the wand in place as he bent forward.
"What was that, a banshee?" Cal joked softly. Then he paused. Honestly, in this place, he supposed a banshee was as likely as anything.
The thought was definitely unsettling.
Footsteps long and measured, Cal moved softly to another row. He supposed if he were going to take care of a Siren, he needed to learn to be more friendly with other Ghosts' guardians.
Still, it wasn't his idea of a good afternoon.Kierla blinked up from where she was sitting, cross-legged, on the ground. "Sorry," she said. The word was already becoming tired in her mouth. "Aricia likes to do that." And she pointed an accusing finger at the culprit.
Aricia instantly stopped her raucous laughter to assume an instant position of innocent adorability. Staring up at Cal, her eyes widened to their full extent as the mouth curved into a smile and she wriggled one hand in a wave."No, it's...I see." Something in the line of horrified fear flitted across Cal's features before they resumed their normal, low-key demeanor.
Awkwardly he waved back at the green-eyed little girl; she was obviously in rediculously high spirits. Oh gods, was that what he had to look forward to?
His intense gaze flickered to the wisp in his pocket. Raidne snuggled close to his neck in an almost fawning attitude; it didn't comfort him any. Not even a little.
He wasn't ready for this.
He spoke again to stave off the rising tide of panic, as images of drool and screams while throwing pasta rushed him from all sides.
"I'm Cal," he said, extending his hand. "And this is Raidne. She's apparently a Siren."
He couldn't keep that slight skeptical note out of his voice, even still. He almost asked if the child were a banshee; but not being one for much conversation anyhow, he remained silent instead. Kierla observed the look on the man's face, mentally wincing. Maybe this wasn't the best first impression.
"A Siren. I found a book on them a little while ago..." she stood up, limbs cracking, "...here. No, this one."
She held out a heavy tome toward him, almost like a peace offering.
"My name is Kierla. Aricia's a Pegasus," she added, almost as if reading his mind. But it became apparent she was just an overenthusiastic mother under that cold demeanor; the next remark was said with way too much pride. "She said her first sentence yesterday."
Aww. So it didn't work on this guy, too? This Puppy Face routine needed some work. Aricia's wings fluffed themselves out, fluttering slightly; maybe that would catch his attention. She waved at him again."Oh! Thank you." It had a genuine ring to it. "I couldn't seem to find anything beyond, well, this." He gestured with the book on marine biology that he held in his other hand. "And sirens aren't exactly what they meant, I don't think." His smile was small, but again, genuine. "Apparently I don't know my way around this library very well yet."
Raidne, meanwhile, seemed completely uninterested in the other Ghost. Rather, she stretched and wobbled toward the door in a not-so-subtle hint. She wanted salt air and a stiff breeze! -- not the smell of dust and old paper.
The child fluffed her mismatched wings, waving again. Cal waved back with a bit more enthusiasm this time, if nothing else than for the guardian's sake; she was obviously inordinately proud of the little girl.
Now, he supposed, was where he was supposed to ask what that sentence was. He didn't care, honestly; but it would be rude not to.
"What did she say?"A gigantic grin spread across Kierla's face, then disappeared the next second. Perhaps Cal was just imagining it. "Glad to be of help. And she said..." she paused to make sure her audience was paying attention "I won't hurt it! Isn't that so cute?"
Despite her efforts to keep her face emotionless, both her voice and her eyes betrayed the facade.
Aricia gabbled at Kierla angrily, in complete nonsense. Hmmph! She thought she was so great, such a good teacher. But it was Aricia that had to figure out the words by herself. How dare that woman take all her credit!
Then she remembered there was company. One of which was ignoring her. In desperation for attention, she flapped her wings, causing a maelstrom of feathers and sending punching gales in every direction."That's pretty complex for a first sentence." He hoped he sounded impressed; actually he was wondering what the hell the kid was likely to be hurting. Matching that sentence with Aricia's massive grin just seemed...sinister.
Alright. He was probably over-reacting.
...or not. In a fit of obvious temper Aricia chattered senselessly at her guardian before flapping up a storm -- almost literally. Feathers flew and Cal got hit with a breeze so strong it threw him off balance.
Raidne didn't stand a chance. Her small form had flattened against his chest at the onslaught, but soon wisp and wand went hurtling over his shoulder, sucked out of his pocket by the draft. A piercing wail -- though still somehow nothing like the shriek Aricia had made -- sounded in his head. There were no words, but the distress was plain.
Cal roared out his little siren's name as he scooped up the wand in his hands. It looked so unnaturally bright against the time-worn carpet. He didn't know what exactly might hurt a Ghost at this point...but Ianna Umbridge had told him to be careful.
The small wisp hung limply from the tip. And Cal realized how attached he was already growing to the idea of having her around. Oh god. Was she just stunned? Or...
He turned on both child and mother, too-bright blue eyes burning and cold all at once. Under his leathery skin, burnt brown by days upon days under the sun, a dull red surfaced. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" Kierla began, before she too was hit by the whirlwind of feathers.
She heard the roar, and wondered what was happening.
When the feathers finally settled, she knew instinctively this was not the time to be praising Aricia.
"A. Ri. Ci. A."
Aricia cringed, and covered her face with her wings. Maybe she'd overdone it a little...
"Apologize right now." Kierla rarely raised her voice, but there was a subtle underlining to those last words that made them powerful. "And no wings for a week."
WHAT? That was totally unfair. Her wings were her winning feature for attracting attention! Aricia opened her mouth to argue in gibberish again, when she caught the ferocity in Cal's eyes.
"Pweee," she said humbly. She didn't know how to say sorry yet, so she'd have to settle for the only polite word she knew.
Her wings slowly disappeared into her back, and she gave her mother a forlorn look.At least the mother wasn't pandering to that kind of behavior; and if that fact didn't really make Cal any less angry at the moment, it at least didn't add to the problem. Now he regretted NOT making a banshee comment.
And pwee. What the hell was pwee? He knew really, of course, what Aricia was trying to do; but her baby's vocabulary wasn't the least bit charming at the moment. Even when Raidne sort of shook herself -- proving, at least, that it hadn't killed her -- he still had nothing whatsoever for the black-haired little girl.
Brown hands cupped wand and wisp gently. Cal expected Raidne to just sit there for a bit; getting blown away had obviously shaken her, at the very least. But after only a moment Raidne was back to her old tricks; only this time she was stretching toward Aricia, not the door; and a discordant note sounded in Cal's head.
... was she angry?
It was possible. Cal remembered how she'd fought her way out of the wisp in spite of the heavy breeze that nearly blew her out to sea. Raidne was not going to be docile, he thought. And while that trait had infuriated him in Aricia, in Raidne, he felt oddly proud of it.
The heavy tome on sirens was tucked under one sinewy arm; and with both hands now he waved Raidne back toward him.Aricia fought the urge to pull her wings back out and shrug them over her eyes. The scary man looked really angry. Not to mention the wisp. God, it was coming closer! Was it going to bite her? Whimpering, she clamped her chubby hands over her eyes. I can't see it, it can't see me. I can't see it, it can't see me -
Kierla tried to break the awkward silence. "She means sorry." Although her voice was flatter than any normal person's, it was worlds of emotion for her."I see." It wasn't really an acceptance. Then Aricia tried to hide from Raidne -- tiny, 4-inch little Raidne -- and he almost laughed.
He fought back the urge. Aricia could have seriously hurt her. He thought. He wasn't honestly sure, but once angry, Cal tended to stay that way, rational or no.
The wand he slipped back into his pocket; this time Raidne lounged against his shoulder in a sulky attitude, feeling thwarted. Though really, what would a a wisp actually do?
"Well I think I'll be leaving before anything else happens. Raidne doesn't seem to like the indoors very much, anyhow." Some small part of him felt bad for Kierla; she did seem upset at the turn of events. And so he relented a little. "Thank you again for the book." The words were still clipped, curt; but those were his normal tones, anyway."Of course, I understand." For once, Kierla was sad to see her companian leave. Perhaps it was because he was angry at her, and it was her fault. Usually it was her that was angry at them. "Good bye," she added awkwardly, then nudged Aricia to do the same.
I can't see them, they can't see me -
They were leaving! It had worked!
Aricia felt very happy, and extremely relieved. She had escaped a great danger today.
She glared with annoyance at her mother. Who was she to destroy her happy moment? But with the thought that she might be grounded even longer than a week, she hastened to action.
"PWEE!" Cal gave Kierla an equally awkward "goodbye." She'd actually been much nicer about the situation than he'd expected; and the man found himself hoping this was a bridge he hadn't burned.
And Aricia was apologizing again. Technically she was saying please again, but it was the same thing. "Accepted," he told her, though Raidne seemed far from having done so. Still, she was just a baby. Cal didn't particuarly like babies, but continuing to be mean to one was just assanine. With a curt, almost military nod, he wound his way through the shelves, still unaware of the tomes upstairs. Perhaps that was a headquarter secret for another day.
Outside, the heat was oppressive, too hot for this late in the season. Still, Raidne seemed to enjoy it. And after what Cal considered a narrow escape, that was enough for now.
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Posted: Sun Sep 10, 2006 5:28 pm
M u s i n g s
______________ ____ _ _
"As weeks went by it showed that she was not fine."
-"Brick" by Ben Folds Five
Sept. 9, 2006
Raidne has grown slower than she ought.
Some move onto what Ianna called a "baby ghost" in merely a week or two; but she seems content to remain as she is, a hint of smoke at the end of the wand.
Am I doing something wrong?
I would say perhaps I do not spend the time with her I should; and yet it has been how long since I've even made time to write? No, it is not that. It cannot be because she does not feel wanted; seldom in my life have I wanted anything more.
I never had children, and I never felt the loss of it. Yet here I stand, not on the sea for weeks for fear Raidne will be blown away and find herself adrift on the waves and out of my reach.
But I cannot bear to leave her behind, her tiny form straining to follow me, bound as she is to that damnable spear. I cannot ignore those plaintive notes, full of so much melancholy, when I am even in another room.
I've nearly taken on tahe life of a hermit since she's come; how would I possibly explain to friends why I can't be brought to leave a trinket made of pearls and seaglass behind? No. Once she is really a child, perhaps...
She will be different. She won't be like that squalling little Aricia. No sound that unharmonious will ever pass Raidne's lips. I know it. I know it. How? Because no sound, no chord has ever been anything but lovely.
And yet she hasn't sung to me again. After that first night when I thought she'd drive me mad with her elusive melody, she has been mostly silent, save for a note in my head here or there.
I don't understand If I am honest, I do know why she has taken so long to move on. She strains always at the sea, lingering against the panes of glass on the balcony day and night. I know what she wants, but I am afraid to risk...
...After all, she nearly blew away when she first wisped into being, nearly got pulled out over the water; what is to keep it from happening again? One moment of inattention. That's all it would take. One moment.
But god, what I wouldn't give to hear that song again...
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Posted: Thu Sep 28, 2006 4:50 pm
N u d g e d______________ ____ _ _ <Raidne gets a toy, and becomes a baby ghost>
"Turn into something beautiful."
-"Yellow" by Coldplay
Cal's measured tread was a bit firmer, pupose filling each determined step. He wanted Raidne. He did. And he was going to see that she grew.
Fttst! The slither-click of his cigarette lighter made a comfortable sound as the intense eyes scanned each shop and stall, pausing occasionally to examine whatever caught his fancy.
Still, he lingered long over none of them. He'd left his siren home today, not trusting her to the jostle and push of busy days in the market. That plaitive whine of hers left him anxious; he knew more or less what he was looking for, and he'd waste no time finding it -- or getting back to his little girl.
It was late September, but still the long line of unseasonably hot days continued. The blistering sun stared haughtily down from his lofty position and gave no indication that he had any plans to be otherwise.
Sweaty, cranky faces gathered and broke around the man in a living tide. Cal himself seemed less bothered by the heat than most, having grown accustomed to the harsh rays after days upon days on the water. Not that the ocean didn't have her cold days, too...
A refreshing tinkle and clink whispered past his ear. One large brown hand shaded over-bright blue eyes, which soon picked out the culprit: jewelry. He drew one finger along one charm before letting it fall and chime out more soft music. The colours were beautiful, and so was the sound.
It was a far cry from the proper gold hoops or snobby diamond pendants most jewelers seemed to sell nowadays.
"Sea glass," the vendor mumbled tersely from beneath his hat. Cal started; he'd half assumed, from the propped up feet and the pulled down hat that the seller was, in fact, asleep. "Pretty stuff."
A quiet smile drew deep lines across Cal's face. It wasn't what he'd come for -- Raidne would need to be much older before she could wear this -- but he'd buy it now, and lay it by. It was simply too pretty, and besides, it was almost as if the piece had been crafted especially for her.
Bills exchanged hands. The vendor seemed to be as unenthusiastic about getting money as he did about being open today, but Cal didn't care. Someday, Raidne would be so pleased...
But. Back to business. If he were too fearful to take Raidne out on the sea till she'd become a "real" baby, he'd have to bring the sea inside to her. It was not a novel concept, to be sure, but Cal found himself growing more and more anxious for Raidne to become something he could hold. The shells and bits of driftwood he'd brought her didn't seem to be enough.
He almost missed the shop at first. Had it not been for one small boy's excited shriek, he'd have passed the tiny establishment altogether. The booth had crammed its way across a narrow alley entrance. From the gabble of conversation that swirled around him, Cal gathered this was an outpost of a much larger company...Moorgahaine something or other?
Whatever it was, it was popular. And mechanical.
Cal pushed steadily forward through hyper little girls and harried looking mothers, never rude but never giving an inch. At last he understood what the fuss was about.
Hermit crabs in every colour of the rainbow skuttled mechanically across the counter, imitating the real thing with uncanny precision. Their shells were mirror-bright and gorgeous.
At the seller's urging, he coaxed one onto his palm:
Unlike real hermit crabs, heavily decorated shells didn't bother these creatures. And no digestive system meant it could live anywhere.
"Would it be sturdy enough for a small child? She couldn't ... break it or eat it or anything?" Cal queried. He loved the idea, but he'd take no chance on her safety.
The vendor's offer to throw the crab against the sidewalk as proof of its sturdiness convinced him, and he gathered a blue one with a faint snowflake pattern into a package.
***
Raidne's wand, when he picked it up, felt cold and strangely distant. The little wisp showed no tendency to curl against him, as it normally did; and it took him a moment to realize the truth.
"You're sulking!" His laugh sounded deep and warm. That something so tiny could sulk was more than he'd been prepared for. "But I only left you to bring you something nice..."
The bracelet he left in his pocket; she wouldn't understand that right now anyway. The crab -- or "eremite" as the vendor had called it -- skuttled merrily across the table toward the spear.
A high note, like a violin string tightened too far, sounded in Cal's head. Biting his lip in vexation, the sailor lunged to reclaim it. She's frightened! he inwardly moaned; and it was true.
As the note echoed, the wisp detached. And Cal's heart felt like stone.
Instead of drifting away or winking out altogether, as he'd expected, the wisp spiraled toward him and grew, and the sound in his head only magnified. He took one breath that seemed to last an eternity, and then...
... a cloudlike baby hovered just above the level of his cradling arms. It had been, it seemed, the nudge Raidne needed.
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Posted: Fri Sep 29, 2006 3:27 pm
P r e p a r a t i o n s
______________ ____ _ _
Sept. 29, 2006
Raidne has grown at last, and I am so thankful. It is what I have been waiting on, hoping for ... and yet ...
When I leave the room now, it isn't just a note I hear. She cries, for all the world like she's flesh and blood already. Sometimes she cries even when I am there. With a real child, I could reason she was either hungry or sleepy or needed a diaper change; with a real child I could actually cradle her and rock her, instead of having a blob of mist hovering over my lap. At least her sounds still maintain something musical about them -- not that grating holler most babies I've seen make.
She has that salty tang of sea air about her.
Although I suppose I shouldn't speak as though she isn't real now; Ianna told me until these ghosts become flesh and blood, there is still the possibility they will recede back into the wand and enter true death.
I don't want that for her. But she always feels so cold right now. Only the two times she's grown have I been given any warmth. I lay her on the bed beside me at night -- no fans, I'm afraid of what might happen. Still, it reminds me that I need to finish her room soon. At least the air is cooler at night, so I'm not feeling the lack of the fan as much as I might have.
I have already wallpapered, blue background with blue fish. I hope it isn't too much blue. The clerk at the home improvement store assumed it was for a boy. Perhaps I need more colours in there?
It would be easier if I had someone else's advice to fall back on; a single man in his forties cannot be the best choice to decorate a little girl's room...
I ran into John while buying the wallpaper; I told him I was adopting a little girl soon. He was, of course, shocked. It is so unlike me -- at least it was. He asked me why, and I didn't really have an answer. I'll have to think about it soon, for when I'm asked again.
There, I've been out of her sight too long; she's crying again. She seems to like an old opera record of mine; let's hope "Madame Butterfly" proves as soothing as it did last time.
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Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2006 6:36 pm
C h a n n e l . F e v e r
______________ ____ _ _
Sitting alone on the more-than-comfortable couch sat the very portrait of dejection. Swarthy hands clasped a shockingly blond head, but the owner of both didn't move at all as the TV played out its reality drama.
But it wasn't "The Real World" or "Joe Millionaire" that flickered across the screen; it was "A Baby Story."
But perhaps he wasn't alone after all; beside him, yammering melodically in his head, was a ghostly child, tinted a bright blue and clutching an equally bright spear against her insubstantial body.
Wandering amongst the halls, the Elvin man Kyo gave up on researching and the such. It was giving him such a bad time that just seeing a book would send shivers down his pale spine.
The sound of electricity and commotion filled the stagnate sounds of the hallways.
One of Kyo's ears twitched at the sound.
"What the?"
Kyo followed the sound, unknown to of the origin.
Turning a sharp corner. The elf came to a halt, followed by the ghost wavering and clasping onto his twig like wand.
Oak sent a gurgling sounds of shock into Kyo's head, "Huh?" Kyo turned and faced the ghost, but shook it out of his system and returned his gaze on the illuminated screen.
"Must be really bad?"
Kyo questioned, seeing the man cradling his head between his hands.
"Mmm?"
Clearly startled, Cal snapped to attention, before answering the question after all. He spared only a moment to wonder why people often said "hmm" before proceeding to answer the question they didn't hear. Ah well.
"No, no, it's ... I'm just ..." How to explain. "Worried?" he managed at last. The lines in his face showed up deeper today in his duress, making him look even older than his forty some years. He didn't immediately explain what about, his eyes drifting instead to the ghost that lurked over his companion's shoulder.
"How do you keep from getting stared at like you're insane when you're out in public?" Cal queried instead, nodding toward the baby-to-be. Raidne let out a high trill. Since she'd come into this form, she was almost never silent, but she wasn't noisy in an irritating way, at least to Cal. That was a mercy, anyhow.
"Worried, about your ghost?" Kyo tilted his head, leaning his frail pale body against the door way. Not quite understanding why one would be worried about such a small thing. Well at least to Kyo it was pointless.
"I don't know. I guess I never really paid to much attention to everyone else." Kyo shrugged. Although there wasn't much for him to be worried about since Oak only emerged not to long ago.
"I haven’t been outside for a while, I've been in the library ever since I got Oak here." Kyo rubbed at his temple, "So I guess I can't really answer your question." The elf shrugged once again.
"I see," the blond man commented brusquely. He looked at this newcomer intently now, taking in details. This man was his almost total opposite.
"I'm not worried so much about her now," he mused, looking at the Siren who burbled cheerily in his mind, if softly. "But when she is older. And if I'll do what I should. I've never had children, or cared for them," he said bluntly, in a rare moment of openness and candor. "I'm afraid I'll screw something up. Little things, like how to decorate her room. Big things, like what if she gets sick? What do babies need?"
He caught himself up short, ending the spew of words that held almost a desperate edge. She was nearly always on his mind. How did this elf manage to stay so blase?
"Well I guess that could be a problem, but you should know there are more people here at the HQ. Many of them have there own wands.." Kyo nodded with a warm smile.
"I'm sure some one here could help you out, but for decorating her room. Do what you think would best suit her." Kyo scratched at his head.
"Look at it's wand and go with that!" The elf nodded.
"I'm sure some idea will pop up..."
"I've read books and I watch shows ..." He struggled for a phrase to better explain himself, and at last found a rather obscure one. "In the navy we always called it 'channel fever' -- how you can't sleep the night before you leave port. I know she'll be coming soon, and it seems I can't settle to anything knowing that. I keep playing scenarios over in my head, I keep seeing all the things I haven]]t done instead of what I have."
Did he make sense? He doubted it.
"I have a room that overlooks the sea picked out for her. I want to paint it blue, but isn't blue usually for boys?" His traditional views rose to the forefront.
A thick, shining peice of tinfoil went flying into the room, striking the centre of the tv with a thin "ping" noise.
Of course, the tin foil's ping was followed by a shrill cry of victory....which was, of course, followed by:
"Damnit, Zasalamel!" From the ping, to the shrill glee, to the annoyed, rather disgruntled voice...well, it was quite the entrance. "Don't do that, you might actually hit something!" The woman's voice was now scolding, and her scold was met with silence.
However, it was only Neveah who visibly rounded the corner to the room; there was no infant or child in general within eyesight. Odd. Sighing, the butterfly woman brushed her hand through her hair, then seemed to notice the two men in the room. Gasping, the butterfly woman then bowed a little bit; force of habit now. "Ack, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were in this room! He didn't hit either of you, did he?!"
Now, she was pointing downward with the same hand she'd brushed her two-toned hair; and if they followed her gesture, they'd see the slightly glowing purple eyes of an obsidian-skinned toddler, looking through a shaggy mass of white hair. Of couse, the toddler was slightly holding onto the couch's arm and peering over it, as if he were being sneaky and spying on them in his own way.
Neveah hid her chuckles.
The elf shrugged.
"Not entirely. I think a blue room would suit her very well!" Kyo nodded with a warm smile.
"Sometimes you just need to go with your gut feeling and give it a try, you never know, right?"
The elf shrugged his frail shoulders.
"I'm thinking of painting Oak's room green and fill it up with trees, from corner to corner. Something to give him the sense of home... hopefully." Kyo sighed. Thinking it would impossible, but he couldn't he wouldn't know until he gave it a shot.
Kyo cocked his head. His Elvin eyes catching the sight of a round sphere fly into the room.
“Huh?” Suddenly a very familiar voice echoed into his sharp ears. Kyo recalled the voice was something he heard once before.
Turning his head, Kyo took in the sight of Neveah; the butterfly woman.
“I’m fine…” The elf nodded.
Cal only barely registered the elf's response before a silver ... something ... smacked into the moving screen. Cal jumped, as did Raidne. If a ghost could truly be said to jump. It mostly resulted in the barrage of noises -- which Cal heard only as a sort of soothing background music -- came to a sudden, startled halt.
Oh god. It was that butterfly woman again.
It wasn't that she was nice; but something about her proportions and her actions just made Cal uncomfortable. Sparing a sidelong glance for his charge, Cal nevertheless made a quiet reply.
"No, we're fine ... Good to see you again Niveah." He remebered her name at least, and for politeness' sake he mumbled out the expected phrase. Besides, opportunity had knocked...
"I'm a bit concerned about what to do once Raidne has grown," he told her. "Was ... what's the best information on how to raise babies?" he ended a bit lamely. He meant, of course, about Ghost babies in particular; but he failed to express that.
"Oh, good! I'm glad he didn't hurt anyone..." Whil she did sound relieved, it was apparent by her tone that she wasn't really focusing on their wellbeing right then. Instead, she was staring at both of them while she waited for recognition to set in. It was that Cal person and...the man who'd knocked over the vase? Kyo, was it?
Oh good. She did know them, then!
"Good to see you too, both of you!" She chirped in cheerfully; life was so much easier when she knew someone! But then...Cal asked her for advice. Asked her for advice. First, she stared at him again, confusion in her angled eyes...then she coughed a bit and relaxed her pose, just so she could count on her slightly elongated fingers. "Uhm...Don't forget to change thir diapers, feed them when they want to be fed, and make sure they get sleep." Hey, he said babies. "I wasn't...exactly the best mother ever but...Zah's still alive so I'm doing something right. I guess...the best thing I can offer you for advice is to pay attention to them. You really do catch on to what they want really fast." Of course, she left out 'or they'll deafen you with shrieks until you do learn'. Cal should figure that one out on his own. Oh yeah, she was definately trying to make herself seem smarter on the subject. "Why?" It was an open question, one that no doubt meant "why ask me?"
"Echk." Said the dark-skinned boy from his partial hiding space. He apparently decided to greet people in his strange language, followed immediately by a raised hand that may or may not have been a wave from behind the couch's arm.
Kyo shuffled in his position. Something didn't feel really comforting being around Neveah's child. Kyo chuckled and waved his hand.
Oak sent some sounds into Kyo's head sounding almost like a greeting.
"Oak here says Hi... I think!" Kyo nodded with a bit of a shrug.
"So about that lamp... I mentioned it to the owner..." Kyo couldn't remember her name... since it was only a short and brief meeting.
"I can't recall her name, but it seemed like she was more upset that I was in the house with out her knowing.." The elf sighed.
Turning his head back to the man on the sofa, "Sounds like she said everything. Just don't try... to hard..." Kyo nodded.
Cal started again as he actually focused on the child who'd managed to get so close without his notice. His eyes, usually hawklike, had been casting about distractedly.
The dark child jabbered something and raised one hand in a strange gesture. He didn't know what the child was trying to say, so Cal, typically, said nothing.
The words of these two helped him absolutely none. They were both vague and rambling and uninformed -- three of Cal's least favorite things. When he left here, he'd buy more books on baby care...
Raidne saved him from actually having to reply. Rising a few inches, she drifted purposefully toward Zah, who'd attracted her attention as well. She chirruped to Cal, her mindvoice closely resembling that of a bird.
"To be perfectly honest, I went by Baby books. I had to edit them to suit me though because uh...yeah." The butterfly woman gestured irritably to her peering "son". "He can't stand the light. Well he can now, for like...half an hour maybe, if we're lucky. But yeah, definately had to edit the books for him." By now, she was rambling. The folklorist's weak spot was to be asked about parenting; she felt like such a bad mother nine times out of ten. "I digress...but you can borrow my books if you want." Poor Cal is in the same boat she was!
"Lamp? Oh, that's right! I was going to ask about that. It was resolved, eh? No big deal...and really, if she'd wanted you to stay out they probably would have had some magical guard." Really, this was Neveah's attempt at comforting...somewhat. She shrugged a bit, then looked at the two ghostlings in the room. "Oh, I didn't know you had a wand, Kyo...and Cal, congrats on...Raidne, was it?"
Zah's purple gaze had been trailing the room, surveying the people...and the ghostlings. Of course he realized there was a girl...essense in the room, but he chose to ignore it since she wasn't moving near him. So, he found himself staring at the other ghost and the other elf in the room; he was too young to bear the ill-will of his people, so his stare was more out of curiousity than contempt. "Echk." He repeated again, waving; this was when Neveah murmured about 'Echk' being something along the lines of 'Hello', just incase the men were wondering.
When the girl-thing moved though, Zah's attention went snapping to the ghost. First those purple orbs widened, then they purposely went to the floor in a move that was rather submissive. "E-Echk, Ligrr klez.." He said shyly, if not nervously.
"Thanks, I guess it was fate or something along the lines of pure luck that I had happened to be here at the right time, no?" The elf nodded. Listening to the conversation about caring for a child. Kyo believed in winging it and following what he thought would best suit the child. He knew he wasn't helping much with the situation of Cal's.
"Hey that reminds me we haven’t introduced ourselves," The elf nodded.
"I'm Kyo and this little ghost is named Oak!" Kyo nodded once again.
Finally! A practical suggestion. Baby books were, Cal discovered, more expensive than might be imagined. As were babies themselves, or so he'd heard.
Which reminded him; diapers and baby powder and bottles and ... other things babies needed which escaped him at the moment ... didn't go bad. He should get the books and do that sort of shopping on his way home.
No, never mind, that meant having the disturbing image of Raidne drifting along behind him in the supermarket. He'd just go back out.
"Actually, I'd really appreciate that," he told Neveah, though wondering what sorts of "edits" he'd have to make for Raidne. Earplugs? No, that was unfair. She had lovely voice, he reminded himself, feeling inexplicably cranky and tense.
Introductions? No, he hadn't made those... "I'm Cal Morgan," he said, stiffly extending a leathery hand to Kyo. "And this..." Zasalamel's curious reaction puzzled Cal, but he didn't remark upon it. Watching his Ghost and the other boy, he forced himself to continue. "This is Raidne."
The baby ghost whistled cheerily at her name.
Neveah chewed on her bottom lip, trying to recall where she'd left the best of those baby books. She couldn't remember, oh well. Instead, she thought back to how she felt when Zasalamel was a ghostling, too. "But for now, how about you try to keep them near your shoulder, eh? Its hard to lose them that way. And... That way people might think they're imagining a ghost near you." The butterfly woman shrugged. "It worked with the spiderling." Then again, being a humanoid...she was used to getting stares.
Then, they started to introduce themselves. Which was silly, since Neveah knew them both...but when in Rome! Besides, they may have forgotten the Drow's name. "Neveah...and Zasalamel. Or Zah. Whichever." She pointed at herself, then down at her suddenly submissive, shy charge.
Zasalamel didn't look at anyone or thing in specific. Not Kyo, not Cal, Not the ghosts, not the floor...everything had his attention for an equal amount of time. To him, this was safer than having to face a girl....even if she was a ghost.
Kyo could sense something wasn't right with the elf of darker skin, but he didn't make to much of it. Since there where other more pressing matters as the problem that still had to be solved back at his home.
Oak wavered closer as his guardian crossed his arms and moved the tree beings wand closer to his heart. Oak wavered across the elf’s frail figure up and over then seemed to rest on the elf's shoulder. A small gurgling sound lifted into Kyo's mind.
Kyo smiled sensing that the sound was a rather peaceful tune.
Reaching out with his own hand, the elf shook Cal's. "It's nice to meet you both, and I’m sure Oak agrees!" Kyo nodded.
The dark little boy with his bright purple eyes had been interesting when he'd been making Cal jump and watching everybody. Then something happened -- she wasn't sure what -- and Zasalamel seemed to lose interest in everything.
Raidne did likewise. Instead, she watched as Oak sat on Kyo's shoulder, and mimicked the action, curling into Cal's neck as she'd done often as a wisp.
"Well..." Cal began awkwardly. He wanted the books as soon as possible, but he didn't want to intrude. Hell. "Would it be easiest to pick the books up today? Or I could meet you somewhere at your convenience..." His voice trailed off again. Early retirement might be nice to some, but having lost his ability to sail temporarily with Raidne still so young, he was feeling the strain of hours upon hours of free time.
Zasalamel seemed to have realized the girl-ghost had lost interest...because it seemed right when she did, his attention focused specifically on Kyo. The Drow first stared at the other elf, wondering why this elf was so lightly coloured...and then he re-noticed the ghost on the light elf's shoulder. Blinking and staring at the boy-ghost instead. "Jihard!" He chuckled out suddenly, pointing at Oak. The ghost was holding a stick! So far, Zasalamel liked sticks. They were fun to throw.
"I have no idea what that means." The Butterfly woman clarified almost instantly, after Zasalamel burbled in that language of his. Then, she backtracked to the other issue. "Oh yeah, books. Uh. I can get them now, if you don't mind watching Zah for me for a little bit?" Her aqua gaze moved from Cal to Kyo; they were both guardians too, so why shouldn't she ask them to babysit while she went to do Cal a favor?
Kyo smiled. Staring down at the drow boy then moving his focus on to his wand and baby ghost.
"I think Oak and I better head out, we got a long night ahead of us and I still have to get his room prepared, and I would like to sleep in a real bed tonight." The elf nodded.
"So I think it's really all up to you Cal, maybe you could get some practice in with Zah." Kyo smirked. Feeling slightly uncomfortable around the child of a darker tone. He didn't really understand why, but he just was.
"It was really nice to meet you all, I really do hope I see you all again. Cal, Radien." Kyo nodded in there direction. Followed quickly by twisting his gaze away from the two, Kyo's eyes darted toward the drow and Neveah.
"It was nice seeing you again and it was nice to meet you Zah. I hope you get to meet Oak sometime in the near future." Kyo nodded once again and turned his back and headed off down the hallway.
Oak wavered on the elf's shoulder, but watched the drow child inventively as the two wandered off into the distance. Sending gurgling and giggling noises into the elf’s mind.
"I'm sure we will meet them again Oak." Kyo smiled, placing a hand on the doorway and left the HQ.
Cal only blinked as the dark little elf jabbered in some strange tongue, and the even stranger butterfly woman openly admitted she didn't understand him.
Didn't that bother her at all? He'd feel so excluded if Raidne spoke in some other tongue...oh god, but what if she did? What if that was the secret to the Sirens' song, some enchanted language of their own?
That...was something he hadn't considered. He rather distractedly agreed to watch Zah while Kyo beat a prudent retreat (was the kid really that bad?)
"Sure, that'll be fine. I'd like to get a head start on reading," Cal told her.
Raidne still nuzzled against his shoulder, but faint snoring noises rattled in his head. No guesses as to what she was doing.
Oh, not being able to understand her son was more than frustrating...but Neveah was learning key words...she had to. "Ah, goodbye Kyo, it was nice to see you again as well! I hope we run into you again." The butterfly waved, then ruffled Zah's hair. "I'll follow Kyo out then, be good Zah, and I'll be back as soon as I can!" This was more of a reassurance for Cal, though.
"Deshmal!" The little Drow cried out happily, waving his arms over his head as the light elf, the stick-holder and his Mother disappeared out of his view. When they left, Zah looked around from over the couch, then decided to step out into the middle of the room. More specifically, in front of Cal. The boy just stared at him, as if unsure of what to do now. "Echk." He greeted curiously, waving his hand only once and just letting it stay in the air, just as his eyes remained fixed on Cal.
Then, after fidgeting as he struggled to think of what to do now, he pointed back at the tv with as little turning as possible, so he could watch Cal. He was kind of interesting! "Thsinthen'l?" He questioned, though he already knew the answer.
Cal's blue eyes tracked the child's movements with much the caution and attention one might give a poisonous snake. It wasn't that Cal was afraid of the boy...he just had no idea what to do with him.
Zah waved -- at least, the older man assumed it meant the same thing. Cal waved back, but dropped his hand, wondering if the child was just erroneously mimicking the gesture.
Raidne still snored.
"Thsinthen'l?" the boy asked, a question apparent by the inflection in his voice. Cal frowned and shook his head, whiteblond locks ruffling even more. "Sorry kid, I have no idea what you're asking," he said in English. In an adventurious stroke, he tried to translate. "Baby? Yes, I'll have one soon..." Then another bolt of inspiration hit him. "You want a different channel?"
He offered the remote, holding it level with those glittery eyes.
Zasalamel smiled happily when Cal returned his wave, looking quite happy over the fact the older male paid attention to him. When he word was repeated back to him he nodded...then looked confused over the man's interpretation of the word.
"Nau, Lerg!" He corrected the male, pointing at Raidne. Then, he pointed back at the TV. Thsinthen'l!" He chirped out happily, then went back to staring at Cal. Channel? Well, maybe there would be something more fun on! "G'rftte!" He said as he took the remote, then looked back at the TV.
Then, as if it wasn't anything different, Zasalamel put the remote into the front pocket of his big sweater and climbed onto the couch to sit beside Cal. After a moment of sitting and swinging his feet over the edge, he decided to crawl onto Cal's lap ad sit there instead, wiggling backwards to rest his back against the man's stomach. Without asking permission. Seemingly appeased now, he took the remote from his sweater pocket and held it out backwards before attempting to change the channels.
Of course, he was thoroughly confused when nothing happened.
Cal felt more and more helpless as the babble continued. The child cleary had Raidne in mind with his next comments. "Ghost? Baby? Siren?" He doubted the child even knew what a siren was, but he was also obviously grasping still.
But Zah didn't seemed overly perturbed by Cal's weak guesses. He was not a creative man, as his interpretations proved. "Thsinthen'l" was repeated, much to the blond's chagrin. But the purple-skinned little boy continued to make happy, garbled sounds as he enthusiastically wiggled...into Cal's lap???!
What kid did that with strangers? (Cal, obviously, had little contact with children, and this was largely contrived.) The child had no qualms about wiggling himself into a more comfortable position before proceeding to incorrectly use the remote.
The position of Cal's hands in the air behind Zah's back suggested he was rather taken with the idea of pushing the little boy off; but of course, he did no such thing, arms dangling limply to his sides again after a moment. He had to get over this, anyhow. He was to have a child of his own!
Brilliant blue eyes cut over to his sleeping charge. But it seemed different with her, somehow. Besides, how old was this kid? How old did they have to be before they were fully potty trained?
A spasm crossed Cal's usually controlled brown features, but once again he resisted the urge to send the child skidding onto his rump in the floor.
"You have to turn it the other way," Cal told him, gingerly making as if to take the remote back.
Zasalamel cheered for Cal when he said 'Baby', clapping his hands as if Cal won a prize. Thn of course came the lap-climbing. Zah didn't think it was wrong; Neveah left him with this man, so he must be good! Of course, he didn't notice Cal as he pondered over pushing him off his lap. If Cal happened to do that, he might just have to deal with a rather upset drow child.
"Oh?" Zah bubbled curiously, tilting his head back to look at Cal. He was doing it wrong? Really? Mummbling something and looking thoroughly curious, he bowed his head and started at the remote. He'd been about to turn the remote himself, but Cal looked like he wanted it. Smiling pleasantly, he leaned back against the older male again, and held the remote out to him. If he wanted the remote so bad, he could have it!
Clearly the child did at least speak English as well. And apparently Cal had guessed some word somewhere correctly with "baby;" though by this point, he wasn't certain which.
God, how did this kid's mother deal with that all the time? Then again, perhaps she was better at the guessing game than he was...
The child settled himself even more comfortably, it seemed, in Cal's lap, obligingly returning the remote after a brief examination.
"No, you almost had it. See?" Cal flipped through channels rapidly in demonstration, coloured screens flickering into existance onto shift into something else a millisecond later. A dozen half-begun syllables and notes chattered at the two, sounding to Cal vaguely reminiscent of the child's strange language. At least the kid was intelligent. And not clingy -- about things, anyways.
Cal stopped the flickering, handing the remote back. He was tired of documentaries anyways, and was curious to see what the child would choose. The channel he'd left off on, however, had decided to be a bajillion decibals louder than the others; heavy metal music shattered the peace. He dropped the remote, startled.
With a snort ghostly Raidne fell off her position half on Cal's shoulder, half on the back of the couch; and the chattering in his head was that of an irritated bird. The siren landed with a soft whoosh on the cushion beside them both.
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Posted: Sun Oct 01, 2006 9:05 pm
F l e s h______________ ____ _ _ <Raidne becomes a real baby>"Shouldn't be so complicated."
-"Bent" by Matchbox 20
It still smelled like fresh paint.
With a stretch and a yawn, Cal sat back on his heels to survey the room. Late afternoon rays, feeling devoid of much warmth, still lent the cacophany of colour in the room even more brilliance. As for scents, the freshly-painted baseboards were the culprit; though opening the balcony doors would cure that in no time. But that only came after Raidne was closed away in another room, beyond the sway of the capricious ocean breezes and their luring fingers.
Two freshly potted exotic plants brought more colour, as did a blue rug on the white wooden floor. A fish mobile lay in the corner, only awaiting the assembly of the crib.
Raidne herself lay on -- or floated above, rather -- a pallet Cal had made on the floor. Did ghosts sleep? From the drowsy coos and half-hearted wiggles he occasionally observed, he felt perhaps they might. She lay still and silent with him at night for long periods, as well. Up to a couple of hours at a time. Thank god he was retired.
She cried little. So far he linked this only to being left and being ignored; so long as he kept her close she seemed content enough. Lying on his back put the etherial child within reach; but his outstretched fingers met nothing. The only hint of a presence was the cool, damp sensation along his hand.
A long breath spoke of Cal's discontent; and in a moment he sat up again, bright eyes surveying the disjointed pieces of an uncompleted crib littering the otherwise tidy room. A fishtank, ready with everything but the fish, spoke of future plans. He'd have to be the one who took care of the tank for quite some time, of course; but if it pleased Raidne, it would be worth it.
He suspected Raidne could already "see," though there was no indication of eyes in her featureless face. She'd already cooed happily over certain colours -- she didn't seem to think blue walls were for boys, anyway.
He turned over ways to sneak the siren into the petshop, to let her "pick" the fish she wanted, in a sense. At least he could see which ones she responded to.
Damn. Why did a crib have to have so many PIECES? How many movable parts did one of these things actually need?
Screws and bolts and railings ... they splashed across the floor like colour on an abstract painting, no rhyme or reason to the layout. And somehow, he was supposed to turn all that into Raidne's bed.
It was a grueling process. The instructions, while meticulous, predictably called for pieces that did not exist. It was therefore impossible to slide Spoke H into Slot WW before inserting Screw N. A bit of creative construction got the contraption to at least resemble a crib ... but left Cal with two hours of his life gone and two pieces extra.
A vein jumped in his temple, the line in his jaw was controlled fury. Details, even meticulous details, he could handle. But incorrect meticulous details were something else entirely. He hated incompetence.
Raidne twitched, a breathy trill escaping from unseen lips. Her guardian pressed dark hands over his eyes for several long moments, but when he turned those eyes to her, his rage had dwindled.
"I hope you appreciate what I'm doing for you," was his caustic comment, but even managed a ghost of a smile.
He clamored stiffly to his feet, hos joints protesting with a series of pops and cracks. He was too old to sit in that same position for as long as he had.
A wince, a rub, a slow straightening. The crib would hold Raidne now he knew, but then what couldn't withstand the weight of a ghost? At some point, though, it would need to actually bear weight.
Frustrated fingers ruffled touseled cornsilk strands even further before he stooped, palms pressed flat on the crib's mattress. It held sturdy. So the extra pieces were superfluous...
He shoved down even harder, just to be certain. Aside from picking out fish, that was the last of the "redecorating." The room was ready.
On a whim, he walked back to the sleeping baby ghost, taking the tiny spear she cradled between his own large thumb and index finger. A gentle tug assured her grip was locked tight in her slumber. A smile flickered across Cal's weathered features as he wafted her across the room, letting the Siren drift down into the crib he'd built. Had he attempted to caress the misty figure as he had hours before, he'd have discovered she was considerably warmer. He hung the mobile, striped and spotted and rainbow fish dangling, large smiles plastered on their faces in an attempt to appeal to a baby.
Silent treads carried him out of the room, dinner and perfecting Raidne's room on his mind. Yes, tomorrow he'd air it out...
It took him several moments before he realized the fitful, melodic coo no longer rang in his head. This time, it rang in his ears.
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Posted: Tue Apr 03, 2007 9:19 pm
F i r s t . T o u c h______________ ____ _ _ <Cal holds Raidne for the first time>"And I know that I am the luckiest."
-"The Luckiest" by Ben Folds Five
She was a brown little thing, her driftwood skin wrinkling at her healthily pudgy elbows and knees, but the colour lacked the almost burnt undertone of Cal's naturally fair skin. Her cheeks bore the hot tinge of temper and the effort of crying, but she quieted as soon as his face appeared over the edge of her crib.
Cal reached down to her slowly, as he would have had she been some wounded wild thing he did not wish to startle, and her blue eyes opened comically wide as she tried unsuccessfully to focus on his face. His own eyes had held highlights of terror until then, mirrored by his hesitance to actually touch her; after that, they held something that could only be close to worship.
One rough finger wiggled a perfectly formed toe back and forth, which only caused them all to curl, and she writhed fitfully.
"Hello beautiful girl," he breathed at her in awe, and recognizing his voice, she treated him to a wide-mouthed toothless grin, wriggling. He only meant the endearment that much more.
She seemed so very tiny as he slid careful hands beneath her, cradling her naked bottom as he nestled her against his chest. Her hair made a sharp contrast to the dark blue shirt, and he drank in all the wonderful details.
She warbled cheerfully at him as she nuzzled comfortably into place.
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Posted: Wed May 23, 2007 2:09 pm
S c r u b b e d______________ ____ _ _ <Cal gives Raidne her first bath.>"Simple and clean as the way that you're making me feel tonight..."
-"Simple and Clean" by Utada Hikaru
He'd tested the temperature at least a dozen times, but he dipped the inside of his wrist into the pan again before finally lowering Raidne gently into the water. Over-cautiousness, to be sure; to call it even lukewarm was overly optimistic, but the baby hardly seemed to mind as she settled into the suds.
Made-for-babies'-sensitive-skin suds, of course. He'd bought made-for-babies everything, as the hole in his bank account attested to. Always a sensible, prudent man, for once in his life he'd set sense aside, delved into his savings, and gone wild on baby products.
The clerk who'd checked him out had that amused smile. "New father?"
Was it that obvious?
Raidne's happy trill recalled him to the present -- but he came back gladly. A first bath was not something he needed to give on autopilot. Babies had so many firsts, it was true, but Cal wanted to be there for every single one of them. Gooey sentiment embarrassed him, if he were honest; but the cheerily noisy, happily splashing creature in front of him overrode his objections.
The extra-gentle washcloth smoothed its way over her nut-brown skin. If he concentrated a little extra on her tiny, energetic toes, who could blame him? Perfect feet in miniature. The sounds she made -- laughter, he could only assume, at being tickled -- were birdlike, a series of chirrups, warbles and twitters. It defied the imagination how those sounds came from her tiny vocal chords, clear and sweet. There was nothing human about them.
But then, she wasn't human, was she? No, not really. He shouldn't forget that, either. She wasn't going to face the same things a normal baby might.
All in all, Raidne seemed to adore the experience. By the end of it, more water was down Cal's front and on the bathroom tile than was left in the tub, but it was a small price to pay.
The one dark spot had been when he washed her face. Her chirping had been almost frantic, then, as if she were afraid. He'd have to be more careful, next time. He must not have been gentle enough.
Supporting her head, he wrapped the child in a towel, humming his own tuneless version of a lullaby.
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Posted: Sat Jun 02, 2007 2:01 pm
S n a p s h o t ______________ ____ _ _ <Cal gets baby photos of Raidne>"Pin her down on a photograph album."
-"Anna Begins" by Counting Crows
It was hot. Even Raidne, who was proving herself to be goodnatured overall – overall meaning, so long as Cal was looking at and/or touching her, and the radio was possibly on – threatened temperamental tears from the baby carrier on his back. The lucky papa hummed a song from the radio as he strutted with deliberately bouncy steps, hoping to stave them off. So far, so good.
Unbidden, the phrase “music calms the savage beast” flitted through his distracted mind, and guilt flooded him at associating that with his baby. Still, it was undeniable that music seemed the real key to her moods.
Cal’s original errand had been fish for Raidne’s tank in her room; but an early morning breeze (that had long since abandoned him) had tempted him to brave the thrown-together chaos of the marketplace.
The temporary stalls he usually avoided, unless they were selling fresh produce. Otherwise it was all cheap knockoffs and useless junk, in his mind. The actual stores, shoved cheek to jowl in along the serpentine alleys, at least offered a bit of shade.
The wiry man’s shoulder was beginning to ache with the weight of the diaper bag that contained not only diapers but everything else Raidne could possibly want or need in her entire lifetime. Speaking of needs, probably time for a bottle.
The cool music of an unremarkable fountain soothed Cal’s own fraying nerves, and it was there he settled in to feed the squirming siren. While the sun had bleached the sky to a worn workshirt blue, it had peppered Raidne’s dark skin with freckles.
“Your daughter is beautiful! Just look at those eyes.” The woman’s voice was friendly, neutral, but it was into Cal’s she looked, not the baby’s. Still, she held his glance for only a moment before returning her attention to Raidne. She tucked an oatmeal strand of hair behind one ear as the sailor murmured an appropriate thank you, and smiled.
At rest, her features lacked the perfect symmetry for real beauty, but when her face was animated, she still managed the illusion of it. “I run the studio right behind you,” she informed, nodding in the direction of a weathered little shop as she pulled out a sandwich. “I’m just grabbing a quick bite of lunch, but you should come in afterward, have some photos taken. It wouldn’t cost much,” she hurried on, to forestall his hesitant decline. “Actually, I was hoping to use them in the window display, for a discount. Her skin and hair make such a striking contrast.”
“Well...everyone does keep telling me how fast they grow,” Cal acquiesced, returning her contagious grin. Of course he thought she was the prettiest baby he’d ever seen, but it was nice to have such a practiced eye as a photographer affirm his notion. “I suppose a few wouldn’t hurt.”
Raidne finished her bottle, Rachel (as Cal discovered the woman’s name was) finished her sandwich, and the three retired into the studio. It was small, and cooled only by a small window unit in the back, but extremely clean and orderly. Cal approved.
The appropriately powder pink onesy he’d dressed the siren in unfortunately clashed with her skintone, but Rachel had Cal take it off. “I’d like to do something beachy with her,” the woman explained. “And a naked baby’s bottom sends sales through the roof.”
At first, Cal was unsure whether Rachel was serious or not; but an amused glint in her warm brown eyes gave her away.
In the end, the favorite picture both adults settled on was a shot of Raidne reaching for a conch shell, curiosity written in her luminous eyes. He bought several copies of it, and of one with him holding her against his chest.
Rachel even asked him to stop by again, regardless of the fact that Raidne had peed on her when she’d picked the little girl up to change poses. The price she’d asked was very fair, and Cal found himself no longer regretting his impulsive adventure into the marketplace. Fish for the tank...well, he could buy them any day.
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Posted: Fri Sep 21, 2007 4:44 pm
M a s s a c r e
______________ ____ _ _
<Raidne ruins a date>
The happy shriek resonated through the house seconds before a warm, soapy tidal wave surged over the edge of the tub and down his clothes. Cal struggled stubbornly to retain his sour mood, and failed. The toothless grin worked its magic as the baby created a carnival cacophany with her mouth.
"You have no idea you just massacred a date, do you?" Raidne answered only with a solid slap of the water's surface that sent a gullywasher along the joints of the bathroom floor tile.
Massacred was truly the operative word. No babysitter meant the siren had tagged along for a carefully casual dinner. Rachel had insisted she wouldn't mind, but that had been before Raidne screamed through the appetizer, fussed through the main course and cried till she gave herself the hiccups as they finished their drink.
She didn't like Rachel. What Cal had suspected during the photo session became transparently clear tonight, as his date had done her best to help calm Raidne down and Raidne had thrown up on her, one might almost say out of spite. Okay, so Rachel had said it; Cal, of course, had insisted her stomach was just upset from all the crying.
He'd been so concerned he'd left the beachside restaurant with every intention of taking his daughter to the hospital, heartsick because he had no idea what was wrong, and she was far too young to be able to tell him.
Except as soon as he and Rachel parted ways, Raidne began drooling on his shoulder as she held one of her nonsense conversations with him, completely content.
"What is it you don't like, hmm?" Cal asked aloud, as though his baby girl would actually answer him. "She's nice." And intelligent, and funny, and attractive in a way that sort of ambushed a person. That, though, he wouldn't say out loud to even Raidne. She was too busy making waves to spare him a glance, fixated on the octopus-shaped bath mitt her father scrubbed her with, her head a mass of tear-free bubbles.
Idly, Cal wondered if the siren's hair would retain it's white-green brilliance as she grew; he'd kept his head of blond hair, anyway, so he supposed it was possible.
Wrapped up snug in a towel, the baby went out like a light, exhausted from her watery playtime. She was growing so fast, already holding her head up on her own and learning to worm-wriggle across the floor to get to things she wanted. Before he knew it, she'd be crawling, and that would be interesting.
Still, asleep, it was hard to imagine her as anything but a perfect angel, the sprinkling of freckles adding only a hint of mischievousness.
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