Carried Over
Complete with a new sense of 'self' a new smokin' bod and attitude and philosophy on life, Harper's past month had been just one long blur of party and laughing and music and dancing. So much so that he'd almost completely forgotten about the charge he'd taken upon himself in his oh so distant 'childhood,' but when the party finally did die, albeit briefly, Harper pulled himself over to Mave's mansion on early weekend morning. One of the first things he'd done when he'd grown old enough to look the part was get a driver's permit, the written test which he had passed surprisingly quickly given his educational background, and although it technically required a supervising adult most of the time, certain rules (and, you know, laws) were... skipped. This time, however, Eliot came complete wtih the package for obvious reasons, and the two exited the delicious cherry red convertible in the typical unorthodox over the side fashion.
Eliot had been endlessly 'creeped out' by Harper's transformation, and couldn't help but glare through the corners of his eyes at the white haired boy as they marched up the long stone walkway to the large front doors. He was, easily, taller than him now, and seemed to catch his peers' offering of girls like flame's attract mosquitoes. Much to Eliot's horror said attentions were purposely diverted to Tas, who, also, much like certain species of dog had no problem scavenging.
The giant medieval styled doors opened before the pair even got to them. Lee, the usually bubbly-grumpy man at the sight of Eliot was unaffected at his appearance, beaming ear to ear. "Oh, we've been waiting!" The charming English accent commenced, butchered by an infected 'American' way of body language that quickly usured young Sinclair and Rose inside.
What was quickly produced in the glamorous plush sitting room was a red haired woman and her new baby, delightfully awake but already a few hours past her natural bedtime. The baby could already pass for a good one and a half year old for her motor functions and various growing abilities; and was sitting with her arms flopped over her legs on a love seat next to her mother. Pale skin offset by a dash of autumy orange hair and the most lovely amber-orange coloured eyes Mave' swore ever existed. What Harper found most unbelievably awesome, however, were the set of matching wings that found their way out of the girls tufts of hair - in shades of both her skin and hair together. Closer inspection brought more amazement at the soft, almost plummage like fluff he occasionally felt on her head - her hairline, and with the most scientifically astute observation the teen boy finally announced, "Dude! He's a bird!"
Eliot let out a sigh. "Don't bother Mave, he's decided long enough she'd be a he so girl coulda come out in a poodle skirt and pigtails and he'd still of insisted-"
"She's a she, Harper." Mave said, stifling a chuckle.
Bishop had quite completely ignored the stroking of her hair as she was inspected by Harper, her focus on a nearby mirror that was reflecting a glare of morning light. She was discovering something about herself, something she'd failed to realize in her short life prior; her vision was fleeting the brighter it got. Rather than frustrated the baby girl took this experience for all it was worth - assuming all was well and normal, not really caring if it wasn't. Perhaps, even, this meant it was indeed time to sleep, and her body's way of telling her so. When finally Harper's prodding roused a reaction from her - when she felt a portion of her hair go upwards and out and had lifted a hand to investigate - her hand met with an assault of most distressing 'goo.' The baby turned an offended glare in Harper's direction and whined pathetically.
"Chill." Harper instructed, lips pursing again in concentration. "Almost done."
"Geh!" Bishop declared, passing a distressed look to her mother; finding through her now moderately blurry vision with absolute horror her mother seemed intent to allow the assault, even amused by it.
"Ya'actually got really cool hair Bishop, kinna' surprised. Orange is a cool colour. Or brown. Or.. orange. Or whatever the hell your hair colour is supposed to be. Trying to figgre' out why your mom stuck you in that dress, though, y'tryin to make him a cross dresser, Mave? Bishop's a boy!"
"Not boy." Bishop smartely declared, giving a loud sigh when her pouting produced no saviour. "No boy - 'Isop girl. Like you."
"Buuurn." Eliot snorted from somewhere across the room.
"Shut the hell up, you stupid-" Harper began, eyebrows furrowed in inappropriate annoyance.
"Alright." Mave quickly interrupted, with an expert flick of her hand that shut the other two up. She picked up her daughter and worked on smoothing out her hair for a moment, only to give up with the small portion refused to tame. "What did you put in her hair, Harper...?"
"Jello."
"Why ever would you-.. you know what, nevermind."
Bishop was now completely in drenched in the real world, finding with pleasant surprise this new set of characters were both oddly familiar and worth sticking mentally around for. "Harper?" Bishop tried, a small hand feeling her lips as they formed the new word.
"Yeah!" Harper brightened, stealing the baby back from Mave's lap. She didn't give any protest, and seemed all along to have a cool grip of the situation which, already, made Bishop entirely comfortable in all situations.
"Know what his name is? Can you say-" Harper began, lifting the girl up and dotting her nose with his.
"Eliot!"
"Eloit?" Bishop tried, frowning a bit when it didn't come out quite right. She gave a look to Eliot and considered the problem a moment, deciding a moment later to give up as though he didn't much matter.
"Yeah well, I'll teach you his real name later when your mom isn't around, okay?" Harper grinned, tucking the slightly protesting baby into the crook of his arm. "I'ma go show her what chocolate is now, k? Bye!" He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.
Eliot arched his eyebrows, glancing questioningly to Mave. She shrugged. "I reserved that one for him, Eliot. Don't worry, Lee will supervise. He makes a great nanny." She grinned, letting out a contented sigh. "Besides, I wanted you alone-"
Harper's constant talking as he took Bishop through the hallways to the kitchen was something she quickly found totally annoying. "Shhhh!" She tried twice; both times it got completely ignored. When finally they arrived in the kitchen Lee was already waiting for them, and had set out a platter of sundae and chocolate and various fondue for them.
"You're usual, Master Harper."
Harper giggled, sliding into a seat at the breakfast table, Bishop sturdily balanced on one leg. "Alright chicka, where do we start?"
Bishop frowned again, looking out over the foods before her. It wasn't anything she'd seen, certainly not eaten before, and this guy was already annoying and strange. Strange was a word she'd realize was very pot-kettle-calling for her to use, later. With no response, Harper gave one for her. He picked up a spoon of ice cream and without so much as an asking gesture crammed it into Bishop's mouth.
What. In. The world.
Bishop opened her mouth wide and gasped in a large breath of air, getting baby drool and melting ice cream all over her face in the process as it dripped out her lips. It was freezing cold and that was all she could experience at first, but after a few moments of gasping in and blowing out air the taste of it all melted on her tongue. It was positively delightful, somehow, sweet and wonderful. It was right then that Bishop decided to give Harper the benefit of the doubt from there on out.
Eliot had been endlessly 'creeped out' by Harper's transformation, and couldn't help but glare through the corners of his eyes at the white haired boy as they marched up the long stone walkway to the large front doors. He was, easily, taller than him now, and seemed to catch his peers' offering of girls like flame's attract mosquitoes. Much to Eliot's horror said attentions were purposely diverted to Tas, who, also, much like certain species of dog had no problem scavenging.
The giant medieval styled doors opened before the pair even got to them. Lee, the usually bubbly-grumpy man at the sight of Eliot was unaffected at his appearance, beaming ear to ear. "Oh, we've been waiting!" The charming English accent commenced, butchered by an infected 'American' way of body language that quickly usured young Sinclair and Rose inside.
What was quickly produced in the glamorous plush sitting room was a red haired woman and her new baby, delightfully awake but already a few hours past her natural bedtime. The baby could already pass for a good one and a half year old for her motor functions and various growing abilities; and was sitting with her arms flopped over her legs on a love seat next to her mother. Pale skin offset by a dash of autumy orange hair and the most lovely amber-orange coloured eyes Mave' swore ever existed. What Harper found most unbelievably awesome, however, were the set of matching wings that found their way out of the girls tufts of hair - in shades of both her skin and hair together. Closer inspection brought more amazement at the soft, almost plummage like fluff he occasionally felt on her head - her hairline, and with the most scientifically astute observation the teen boy finally announced, "Dude! He's a bird!"
Eliot let out a sigh. "Don't bother Mave, he's decided long enough she'd be a he so girl coulda come out in a poodle skirt and pigtails and he'd still of insisted-"
"She's a she, Harper." Mave said, stifling a chuckle.
Bishop had quite completely ignored the stroking of her hair as she was inspected by Harper, her focus on a nearby mirror that was reflecting a glare of morning light. She was discovering something about herself, something she'd failed to realize in her short life prior; her vision was fleeting the brighter it got. Rather than frustrated the baby girl took this experience for all it was worth - assuming all was well and normal, not really caring if it wasn't. Perhaps, even, this meant it was indeed time to sleep, and her body's way of telling her so. When finally Harper's prodding roused a reaction from her - when she felt a portion of her hair go upwards and out and had lifted a hand to investigate - her hand met with an assault of most distressing 'goo.' The baby turned an offended glare in Harper's direction and whined pathetically.
"Chill." Harper instructed, lips pursing again in concentration. "Almost done."
"Geh!" Bishop declared, passing a distressed look to her mother; finding through her now moderately blurry vision with absolute horror her mother seemed intent to allow the assault, even amused by it.
"Ya'actually got really cool hair Bishop, kinna' surprised. Orange is a cool colour. Or brown. Or.. orange. Or whatever the hell your hair colour is supposed to be. Trying to figgre' out why your mom stuck you in that dress, though, y'tryin to make him a cross dresser, Mave? Bishop's a boy!"
"Not boy." Bishop smartely declared, giving a loud sigh when her pouting produced no saviour. "No boy - 'Isop girl. Like you."
"Buuurn." Eliot snorted from somewhere across the room.
"Shut the hell up, you stupid-" Harper began, eyebrows furrowed in inappropriate annoyance.
"Alright." Mave quickly interrupted, with an expert flick of her hand that shut the other two up. She picked up her daughter and worked on smoothing out her hair for a moment, only to give up with the small portion refused to tame. "What did you put in her hair, Harper...?"
"Jello."
"Why ever would you-.. you know what, nevermind."
Bishop was now completely in drenched in the real world, finding with pleasant surprise this new set of characters were both oddly familiar and worth sticking mentally around for. "Harper?" Bishop tried, a small hand feeling her lips as they formed the new word.
"Yeah!" Harper brightened, stealing the baby back from Mave's lap. She didn't give any protest, and seemed all along to have a cool grip of the situation which, already, made Bishop entirely comfortable in all situations.
"Know what his name is? Can you say-" Harper began, lifting the girl up and dotting her nose with his.
"Eliot!"
"Eloit?" Bishop tried, frowning a bit when it didn't come out quite right. She gave a look to Eliot and considered the problem a moment, deciding a moment later to give up as though he didn't much matter.
"Yeah well, I'll teach you his real name later when your mom isn't around, okay?" Harper grinned, tucking the slightly protesting baby into the crook of his arm. "I'ma go show her what chocolate is now, k? Bye!" He turned on his heel and marched out of the room.
Eliot arched his eyebrows, glancing questioningly to Mave. She shrugged. "I reserved that one for him, Eliot. Don't worry, Lee will supervise. He makes a great nanny." She grinned, letting out a contented sigh. "Besides, I wanted you alone-"
Harper's constant talking as he took Bishop through the hallways to the kitchen was something she quickly found totally annoying. "Shhhh!" She tried twice; both times it got completely ignored. When finally they arrived in the kitchen Lee was already waiting for them, and had set out a platter of sundae and chocolate and various fondue for them.
"You're usual, Master Harper."
Harper giggled, sliding into a seat at the breakfast table, Bishop sturdily balanced on one leg. "Alright chicka, where do we start?"
Bishop frowned again, looking out over the foods before her. It wasn't anything she'd seen, certainly not eaten before, and this guy was already annoying and strange. Strange was a word she'd realize was very pot-kettle-calling for her to use, later. With no response, Harper gave one for her. He picked up a spoon of ice cream and without so much as an asking gesture crammed it into Bishop's mouth.
What. In. The world.
Bishop opened her mouth wide and gasped in a large breath of air, getting baby drool and melting ice cream all over her face in the process as it dripped out her lips. It was freezing cold and that was all she could experience at first, but after a few moments of gasping in and blowing out air the taste of it all melted on her tongue. It was positively delightful, somehow, sweet and wonderful. It was right then that Bishop decided to give Harper the benefit of the doubt from there on out.
