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 Posted: Mon Jun 15, 2009 6:55 pm
A few hours of Googling and a two hour nap with the egg in bed next to him later Emile was still at a loss. He initially didn't believe that he would find anything on the item that was now nestled in a backpack, but he had hoped for something. After his nap he had decided to try the library, slipping out of the servant's home formally dressed in his work attire, taking the servant's road out to the city beyond in his used clunker of a car. Since moving in and beginning work, he hadn't the time to buy street clothes as his days off were spent sleeping the entire thing away, so the spare three-piece suit and tie were the best he had.
When Emile arrived at the library with the bag slung over one shoulder, he had gotten some stares but luckily for him the building was mostly empty. Internet and mass media had saw to that over a few short years. He dwelled within the shelves for hours, losing track of time as he poured over book after book; only occasionally stopping to check his oddly quiet charge. The egg seemed to react to noise or heavy movement, so quiet surroundings equaled quiet wings. Good, it wouldn't attract attention that way. Like his search at home before this trip, his reading offered nothing. A defeated sigh graced the air and the blond butler stood, grabbing the backpack with one hand and running the other over his slicked back hair.
"Took the day off, in town to find out what the egg is, and I'm still dressed up like a hired hand. I need some kick back clothes," Brown eyes flicked to the silently ticking clock just above the door for the stairs. The time read six-forty-five and like a forgotten memory had just been realized, Emile's stomach gave that familiar rumble. "And food." The hand that ran over his head patted the flat stomach and Emile hurriedly pushed the door open. A flight and a half of stairs later he was in the lobby and headed out to the door. Nabbing something quick at a fast food joint was an option, but looking at the half open bag next to him and still being uncertain of when it would hatch and what would be the end result made him point his old car towards the nearest supermarket.
Big egg, big something, big appetite.
The car was parked near the closest carriage rack near the store as he could get and the egg-filled bag was placed in the metal rack reserved for children to prevent them from running off or getting into things they weren't supposed to. The butler hadn't the faintest idea what he would get as he moved into the store and it's overbearing glow of fluorescent lighting, but since he was "sick", he could go all out for himself instead of noshing on a ham sandwich made at four-thirty in the morning. He paused near the registers then wheeled his borrowed cart towards the least populated aisles.
"Let's see what's on sale in the dry and canned goods first, egg." Little black wings made a vinyl squeak against the backpack's interior and for a second Emile imagined he would be better off to eventually hit the baby supply aisle while on this particular outing. Just in case.
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Posted: Mon Jun 22, 2009 6:18 pm
Metal clanged and wheels squeaked across the parking lot, carts being pushed and smashed into each other in their holders, accidental collisions with others and even just riding over bumps. The strange metal cages full of brown and blue and sometimes a child confused the boy and he clutched tighter to his "father"s hand.
Shopping for clothes he had done before but never shopping for food. Salem wasn't sure what to make of this place. He knew food didn't just appear from nothing but he couldn't quite wrap his head around the fact that it had to be paid for. Clothes were a constant, always worn and always used but food was one shot; you had some of it and then it was gone. Commerce would be a lesson for another day, however.
"Wh-what are we getting?" Salem flexed the fingers on his free hand. They felt so funny, being hidden as they were, but he was fine with it. The weather was cooling down from earlier that day and the material was thin. As long as a finger didn't jab through his hoody's fabric, he would be good to go.
Tier mumbled a quiet "um" and reached into one of his pockets, pulling out a folded piece of paper. Using his mouth, he pulled it to its full width and stepped up onto the curb with the Ashe before beginning to read, "Some juice, soda, a couple rotisseries--" he paused, as if suddenly he'd had an epiphany, but continued after a woman passed into the doors, "Maybe some instant stuff and noodles. We're gonna try a couple new things and figure out what you like, so if you see anything you think you might want, show it to me, okay?"
His charge nodded, what could barely be considered a smile forming on his pale face, and he followed his blue haired caretaker inside. He hadn't see the motion of the doors when the woman walked in but he tensed up as the doors opened by themselves. Tier didn't appear to be afraid of them, however, so the young Ashe assumed this was normal and charged on. Tier had folded the paper back up and put it back in its place when they came to some bins. They were small, much unlike the carts, and made of plastic rather than the intimidating metal.
Silently, the two exchanged a look, and they each grabbed one for themselves. Occasionally, Salem would have to adjust his sunglasses, as they would slip down the bridge of his small nose, but he wasn't too worried while his hood was up. The basket hardly weighed a thing, though that would soon change, and even as they passed into an aisle with a nicely dressed man in it, he didn't feel too apprehensive about his appearance. The care he and Tier put in to hiding himself strangely put him at ease.
As the boy set the basket down at his feet and began scanning the canned food, plucking up a small container of mini-ravioli and meat balls, he failed to notice Tier staring and quietly scoffing at the man in the suit. Some comment was missed, as well, about his appearance but dear Salem was far too enthralled with the chef on the logo to be bothered.
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Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 8:58 am
Tier raised an eyebrow as he watched the man go about his business; it seemed as though he was acting rather stiff, more so than he figured an uptight rich guy would and should. Almost robotic in his motions, it was like he was being especially careful for one reason or another. It just made Tier frown; his line of thought was that, such a rich looking man, shopping here would likely make them uncomfortable, even more so when having "common folk" near by, in the same aisle no less.
The boy, on the other hand, was trying very hard not to acknowledge the other presence and took his Chef Boyardi prize over to their basket and placed it in. The sudden added weight caught Tier's attention and his agitated expression quickly turned to a smile when he realized what had happened. Kneeling down, he procured another and set it on top of the can, "We have some coupons, we can get a couple,"
It was small, but that slight bit of encouragement caused a tiny smile from the boy, though it couldn't be seen with his hidden features. The feeling was quickly washed up in something he'd felt before, three times before; familiarity. Why here? He couldn't, for the life of him, see another child or teen, as was the case with Pasayo, it didn't make any sense. No one new had entered the aisle and Salem found himself tempted to look between cans and boxes into the other surrounding aisles just to locate where the feeling was coming from but he kept still.
As Tier continued scouring the upper shelves, looking like he was finishing up with this section, Salem began to feel himself panic. What if the familiar sense he was feeling was off and he wouldn't actually get to see the Ashe? Meeting new people was always a terrifying experience for him but just to see another, another of him, it put him at ease in more ways than he could comprehend, especially one like Pasayo who was just as strange and out of place looking as he.
"T-Tier..." he tried to keep his voice just barely above a whisper but it hardly came out at all. Turning, he found Tier a little further away than he'd anticipated. This wasn't going well at all, especially not when he looked at the fancy man and noticed what appeared to be an eye or some type of gaping maw. The grey Ashe felt his heart in his throat, black eyes wide beneath the large sun glass lenses.
The eye didn't blink. It didn't move. It seemed, once it was locked on him, there was nothing else for it to do, and slowly he felt his heart go back down to his chest. This... this was the familiarity. It wasn't an Ashe, not yet. It was an egg. An egg like and very unlike his own. This was a very strange and mystifying experience; he was older than someone? Not by much, it hadn't been very long since he was out of his own egg, but even so, all of the Ashe he had previously come into contact with were either roughly the same age or older.
Suddenly, he felt a sharp pang of desire and longing; he had to see this Ashe hatch, he had to make contact, it was imperative, integral to his continued existence. A sharp turn on the tiles made his small boots squeak and he clutched a hold of Tier's nearest pant-leg, "T-T-Tier...!" it was a little louder this time, audible, "That m-man... H-he has an e-egg."
For a second, Tier just smiled awkwardly down at the boy. This was a super market, of course people were going to have eggs. But then it clicked and he looked up at the man, then his bag. An eye? ...A moon. Gently, he rested a hand on Salem's head and closed a bit of the distance between them and the man. If he definitely had one, Tier figured it would be best to make contact, as with the other Ashe and their "parents", as it were.
"Excuse me?" it made Salem jump, probably mimicking the poor man in front of them.
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Posted: Mon Aug 17, 2009 10:58 am
Two cans of asparagus in hand, Emile straightened up again. Out of the corner of his eye he could just see the younger man kneel down and say something to the child. It wasn't any of his business but he could make out the word 'coupons'. The blond sort of mentally kicked himself at the word, though there really wasn't any time in the day for him to sit around and clip paper rectangles out of the Sunday fliers. Still, a few extra bucks in the pocket would be good for when the egg hatched and whatever was inside it was born. Speaking of...
Emile turned back to the carriage, just glimpsing at the two at the end of the aisle before turning his full attention to the bag. From where he was, he couldn't see that the moon marking on the shell was peeking out of the opening. The butler only saw that the bag was still and that alone provided him with relief. To him, the egg couldn't be seen and wouldn't be noticed, even if the young man and the child walked right past the bag. The cans clicked against the metal bottom as they were set inside and once they were still against the others Emile was back to searching.
Do I even have a can opener?
The thought struck him as odd, but he rarely ate at home. He stood on tip toe, trying to see over the tall cases and catch a glimpse of the ceiling mounted signs that told what was in the aisles. He'd need to get to the kitchen supplies and utensils for that. He grabbed at a can of mixed vegetables to help him gain some balance, brown eyes just gazing over the top of the rack.
"Excuse me?"
Like Salem, Emile jumped, falling back level on his feet. The can he had grabbed for support fell and crashed noisily against the tile, denting in on one side. The butler whipped towards the carriage, face draining of some color as he saw how close the two were to the carriage and his bag. Emile's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, struggling to find the right words. A couple sentences faltered before he was able to get something out.
"Yeah?" The word 'idiot' flashed up in his mind, but instead of introducing his palm to his face, he let his hand run over his smoothed back hair. He put his suave composition back on and cleared his throat, trying hard to keep the red color of embarrassment from showing in his face and his voice level and professional.
"I mean...How may I be of assistance?" This guy was probably going to ask about the suit, have Emile reach something off a high shelf, or possibly ask to bum a couple bucks, but still, Emile was in his work attire and when you were dressed like this-
Your mannerisms and social graces affect the appearance of the family...
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 9:52 am
Now the two men had their eyes locked, the small Ashe looking between the both of them but almost exclusively staring at the egg.
With the other's attention now achieved, Tier was at a loss. What had he really wanted to say? An egg, that was the motive. If this man had an egg, no matter who he was, he was in a similar boat as he, himself, and Salem seemed determined to see this to the end.
Tier cleared his throat, now that there was no turning back. "Ah, um, is that a, uh... art piece?" It came out awkward as hell but he figured asking right out "is that a supernatural egg you found somewhere" pretty stupid and would scare the guy off. Not that he doubted Salem's senses, but there was always the off chance it was just some fake thing, wasn't there?
The boy looked up at his guardian with an almost hurt expression. He hadn't understood the thought process to get to such a question and it seemed so off the wall, it were as if Tier hadn't believed him. Sighing mournfully, he clutched the man's hand tighter and brought his gaze down to the white tile floor instead.
"It's really striking..." he tried to continue, but he was no visual arts connoisseur and just barely had any idea of what to say in regards to such pieces. Music was completely different; he was in it he lived it, he could play it and make it and, thus, he felt he could rightly critique it but with hardly a grain of knowledge for, say, painting, well... Once more, he cleared his throat, leaning to the side slightly to get a better view at it. A wing? Yes, a wing tip, very similar to Salem's own when he was an egg, but these were black. "Could I have a look?"
He was pressing his luck and he knew it but he clutched Salem's hand tighter, reassuringly, and the young Ashe brought his head back up, previous misgivings nearly forgiven. He seemed to be understanding what Tier was getting at now, a feigned trickery that wasn't quite like lying. The blue haired man would have to explain it in full detail once they returned home but he felt more at ease. Hopefully the man would relent.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 10:55 am
The fallen, dented can was picked up and put back on the shelf as Emile waited for the other man to speak. When nothing immediately came, one of his eyebrows arched up in puzzlement and mild contempt. Was it really that hard to ask another guy for a couple dollars? The butler's attention flickered to the child. Now that they were right in front of him Emile could see he was dressed up in the weirdest assortment of clothes he'd ever seen. Poor kid looked uncomfortable too, though probably because he was standing in front of a man who seemed five times his size.
"Ah, um, is that a, uh...art piece?"
Emile's brows were pulled together and he found himself mouthing the words 'art piece?' before his eyes came back to rest on Tier. He saw the movements of the child out of the corner of his eye, and the kid probably thought his father-figure (?) asked something totally embarrassing. The blond was still confused as Tier went on about how the 'art piece' was striking, but once he asked to see it, it clicked. Emile fit two fingers through the metal front of the carriage and pulled it toward himself, and away from the man. Once the metal contraption was midway against him, his brown eyes narrowed.
"Who are you, exactly?" There was an off chance he knew something about the egg, sure, but Emile wasn't taking any. He'd shut the bag, but damn that would look suspicious wouldn't it? Even if this guy did think the egg (which Emile now figured had shifted and was peering out, oh god it was probably the moon again) was some sort of art...Thing. Plus, he had already seen it. He looked down to the kid again. Why'd he get such a weird vibe off him? There was his manner of dress, sure, but something just wasn't quite right with him. Was he sick?
"...Why is he dressed like that? It's too hot for a hooded sweatshirt, don't you think?"
At that moment another two rounds of carriages brought in by the jockeys were rattling past the end of the aisle, just as the resounding 'bong' of the store's announcements came over the PA system. Both came together and the egg stirred noisily, wings flapping hard against the vinyl of the bag until the cover came off. The egg's star marks seemed to flicker meekly under the fluorescent lighting, the egg itself wobbled as whatever was inside it moved around, and the little black wings on top flapped and fluttered vigorously as though extremely agitated.
The look on Emile's face melted from that mild contempt to one of pure horror as the egg forced itself out. Like a desperate cat trying to land on a bird, he leaped into action, reaching one hand over to yank the backpack back over the egg, while using the other to zip it shut. His torso collided and tried to climb over the side of the basket to get some more reach. This fast addition of weight sent the carriage smacking into the rack, causing several cans on the lower shelves to fall to the tiles. The extra noise only made those wings beat more, and the vinyl cover came off again.
Oh...s**t.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 11:10 am
Oh s**t... their thoughts were mirrored as soon as the cart went flying back.
Tier dove after it when the man proved unsuccessful, letting go of Salem's hand and sliding on the squeaky tile. Too late, as well, it collided and sent cans and bottles careening to the ground, several more denting and a few of the glass ones bursting.
"Don't touch the glass!" father instincts kicking in, he waved a hand at Salem before pulling the cart back. Yes, he could see it clear as day in the bag; a large black egg, tiny white dots covering it that almost seemed to sparkle and in the dark of the bag, the moon almost seemed to glow. This was, without a doubt, an egg that contained a being just like Salem.
Just like him and completely different.
Salem had fallen to the floor in the rush of things, sunglasses flopping off and dangling by one of his ears. Emile's comment had been accurate, it was getting far too hot for the type of dress he had but there wasn't much they could do about it, his appearance was far too strange. At the very least there was air conditioning in this building that made it more bearable.
With his sunglasses gone, his black eyes were open to the world, wide as saucers. The blood colored marks that lead from them down his face were also easy to spot and mistake for actual blood. He could feel they had fallen off but the shock of what just occurred had frozen him stiff, staring blankly towards Emile, Tier and the cart but also off into the distance.
A deer in headlights.
The loud noise had caught the attention of many onlookers and Tier fumbled with the zipper of the bag, closing it. He had to move quickly, stepping past Emile without a word and righting Salem's glasses, picking him up and finding a place in Emile's cart to set him down. Then came collecting all that he had dropped from his basket and setting it on Salem's lap.
A crowd was beginning to gather, though the gaggle was mostly kept in motion, people just passing by to see the debris.
Tier waved a hand towards Emile, grabbing the cart's handle and beginning to direct it away from the mess. Any subtly in this conversation was now gone, but the both of them surely knew there was a similarity in their situations now, without even a word said about it. For now, they had to get away from the eyes of the consumers, allow the staff to do their job and clean the mess, and then they would be able to discuss this.
Maybe in the frozen food aisle.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 11:54 am
He couldn't watch the cart's path as all his stamina was going to trying to keep from falling face first into glass and what would be stinging wet stuff. Emile was able to right himself, though he took two shaky steps back away from the fallen objects. Tier's warning to Salem made him look to the child just as the sunglasses came off.
What he saw when he looked at the child's face made his jaw drop.
Emile stared like a train wreak gawker at Salem. His eyes, his face...What was he? And was he bleeding? He didn't land on the glass and the red marks were close to the corners of his mouth and his eyes. From far off he could hear the sounds of people gathering and he managed to rip his gaze from the child's face. Where was his egg? Emile heard the bag being zipped up and saw the stranger with his carriage.
Nothing fell on it...Right? Worry in his head.
That look of disbelief was still on his face as Tier scooped Salem up and put him in the carriage as well as all of his own groceries. Like a lost man he looked around at the gathering group, praying to the higher powers none of them happened to be one of the other servants on their own shopping trip. He'd be so fired if there was anyone in that crowd. The hand wave caught his attention and Emile blanched at first, but then the realization that a stranger with a weird kid was taking off with his egg made him snap his mouth shut and take off after them. He didn't like to leave a mess like that without taking responsibility, but this time was different and ditching seemed appropriate.
When the cart broke free of the surrounding masses, Emile was close beside the man pushing it, weaving in and out of aisles like they were in some race. Against what was up to debate. The fast, and sharp, turns around the ends of the aisles was starting to make him feel sick, but the blond man didn't voice anything. He remained silent and followed though a voice in his head was telling him to snatch his bag and run the opposite direction. He had questions, a few new ones now of course, and there was that feeling that this man had answers.
Just as they were to the frozen food section Emile spotted an empty aisle of breads and paper goods as the carriage graced past it. He grabbed the handle and leaned most of his weight into it, causing it to turn into that line. Once the carriage was all the way in and neither he nor Tier could be seen, he nabbed his bag with the egg inside, raised himself up to his full height and looked down on the man who had just caused five minutes of insanity without a single word.
"Answers. Now."
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 12:26 pm
Salem clutched the basket tightly as the cart rattled along. His head was still spinning and he couldn't wrap his mind around what had happened in mere seconds.
Funny how, when something catastrophic happens, it always feels like it's been days since once the calm begins to hit, even if it really is just as short a time as this was.
As the man roughly redirected the cart, Tier gritted his teeth. This wasn't how he had wanted it to go down at all but there was no changing it now. All he could do was try and calmly explain what was going on, assuming the man didn't already have some idea. It really seemed he didn't.
Tier flinched as the man snatched the bag and he felt the same motion from the other end of the cart.
"Answers. Now."
Right. Where to begin?
He let go of the cart and held his hands up defensively. Only now did he realize how tall the man was, which was saying something since Tier was far from the short scale himself.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen, I just... I had to check..." his light brown eyes glanced to Salem who had moved the basket and huddled into the fetal position. "It's... difficult to explain," he kept a close watch on the bag, trying to discern any movement from it between the egg and the man, "I don't know how much you've already figured out, but if it's anything like mine, you don't know jack." "s**t" was carefully left off the end of that sentence to spare his 'son's' ears.
"...I...is it... o-okay....?" Salem didn't lift his head from his knees, clutching them tightly to his chest. His voice was riddled with shakes and sniffles and occasional sobs, but he tried to keep them as quiet as possible. The thought of something bad happening to the egg was terrifying, a possibility he couldn't bear to acknowledge.
Tier allowed their new companion to answer that, also silently praying for a positive confirmation. The conversation had to move on, regardless.
"I'm still... not entirely sure what they're called. Definitely don't know why they're here or why random people are getting the eggs," he hadn't the slightest idea of the process that brought the eggs to their guardians, either, and for all he knew they could have been hand chosen by The Courts themselves, by name no less. "I just know that," his voice lowered, "They're not human..."
Finally, Salem brought his head just barely away from himself, sunglasses tipped down so his eyes were visible again, locked onto Emile. They were shining from his tears, just like any normal eye would, and the red lines down his face were gleaming where they leaked.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 1:05 pm
Tier's defensive, hands up maneuver made the stern look on Emile's face flicker a bit. He was probably being a bit too imposing and so the butler relaxed his stance. His eyebrow quirked as the explanations began, but he didn't say a word. As Tier glanced over to Salem, Emile did too and the blond felt a pang as he saw that the strange looking child was curled up like that.
"...The internet and library brought up nothing about it." That was all he could say as Salem's stammering made him look down to his bag. Emile shifted it in his arms so that one supported the bottom while one hand reached over and unzipped the top. As the vinyl fell away, those small black wings stretched up, like it was popping its joints, before returning to rest at the shell's sides. Emile hugged the egg to him and couldn't keep a fond smile from crossing his face then. "Yeah, it's just fine."
His professional dialect was fading fast, but Emile didn't seem to notice, or care, right now. Once his confirmation was accepted, he looked back at Tier, smile turning back into that pressed, thin line. He took all the information in, but it felt to him like it was going in one ear and out the other. It was...Insane sounding for lack of a better word. As Tier stopped speaking he looked at Salem. Those black eyes were so strange and yet...
"Here, stop crying." He frowned slightly as he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief but pulled out one of his gloves instead. He didn't mind if it got tear stained, as long as the kid stopped sniffling and looking like a kicked puppy. It actually made him feel sad to look at Salem crying like that. Emile let the white material balance on his fingers and Salem could take it when he wanted, but until then he was stuck leaning at an odd angle while looking back at Tier while the the being inside the shell settled down once more.
Not human. And yet a child?
"You never answered my question back there." His tone was flat. "I asked you who you were. Introductions would be nice to have, so I can stop thinking of you as 'the stranger' and the little guy as 'the kid'. You know?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 1:33 pm
It seemed a lot of his explanation was going right over the man's head, and Tier didn't blame him. All of it was so confusing to experience, it was even harder to put into understandable words than to rationalize it in one's mind. Of course, none of it really made any sense even to Tier. He was even confusing himself as he spoke.
"...The internet and library brought up nothing about it."
It was the same for him, too, though he hadn't looked too much. The egg arrived at a very inopportune time and it hadn't left him with the ability to do a good deal of research.
Salem relaxed in the cart, though his crying didn't completely cease. With the egg fine, he did manage a very tiny, albeit short lived, smile as it stretched out of the bag. It was very lively for an egg and he wondered if he had been as active while tucked away inside his own shell. Perhaps he would ask Tier later but now was not the time.
The man suddenly approached him and Salem recoiled but quickly recovered. All he seemed to be doing was holding something out for him and what he had said finally registered. Tier would always say "don't cry" so "stop crying" had been very foreign to him, but he understood. Carefully, he reached out and took the glove, a skeletal finger slipping out from the trim of the sleeve but quickly ducking into the dark again.
"Th... thank you..."
"You never answered my question back there." For a moment, Tier was at a loss and worriedly furrowed his brow. Amidst the commotion, he'd nearly forgotten how they even began interacting, much less a question posed just before the ruckus. "I asked you who you were. Introductions would be nice to have, so I can stop thinking of you as 'the stranger' and the little guy as 'the kid'. You know?"
"O-oh," he brought a hand to his forehead, laughing uneasily. Of all the things it could have been, he just wanted an introduction? Fine with him. "Sorry. You're right." Clearing his throat, he offered a hand to the man, "I'm Tier Welstein and this is Salem... He's... he was like your egg, there, but... he's been hatched for a few months now."
He wondered how the man would take to the idea of a humanoid child bursting out of the egg. It seemed ludicrous but there they were with a before and after proof, discussing it.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 2:11 pm
Since he was occupied with looking at Tier, Emile didn't see the skeletal digit poke out of the end of the sleeve. Once he heard the thank you, the butler straightened up, turning his head just enough so Salem could see the smiling of 'you're welcome' on his face.
The look of loss on Tier's face, however, made his face go back to looking faintly surprised. Though he couldn't blame him, the commotion and gathering crowd would have thrown any questions in the backseat. He shifted the still egg to his other arm and took the hand offered to him - shaking it in his own firm grip for a moment before letting go.
"Emile Walbrook." Introductions made, he could relax more now. This guy had the answers he was looking for, hallejuah, and didn't seem nonplussed by Emile's stature. As Salem was introduced Emile looked back to the child, eyes widening just enough to show his surprise that the boy had come out of something similar to the egg he had now, and only a few months ago as well. He damn near looked five years old! "So...A child will come out of this?"
He held the bag out to Tier before placing it back into the child's seat of the carriage. Since the vinyl had fallen away, those blue-white stars were freely visible on the ink colored surface and the wings were settled quite comfortably at its sides. Just looking at it, Emile was certain the being...Child...Inside was napping. As long as there wasn't too much noise he, or she, would probably remain that way for awhile. In the mean time Emile had to get his questions in line and make sure he didn't spill them all at once. He'd probably cause his answer buddy here to blow a mental gasket.
"Okay," He ran a hand over his head again, pulling it away when he felt hair gel on his palm. Ew. Emile pulled out his other glove and wiped it on that, chuckling almost nervously as he aligned his words in his head. "I'm kind of disbelieving that I found a person with answers so easily but...Hey. I've got so many questions and now that you're telling me a kid like this little guy here is gonna come out...Oh god."
His job. His hours. If the kid looked anything like Salem? Emile pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, wincing at just the thought of how to make all this right. He wasn't going to abandon the egg; already he felt a connection to it. It was his. But he couldn't say he wasn't 'up to standard' to Gregory over the phone forever. God, what a spot.
"Where to begin?"
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 2:38 pm
A good question.
Where, indeed, to begin?
The man seemed utterly mortified as the subject of his new charge hatching came up. With how intent the man seemed on keeping the egg well and safe, Tier's automatic assumption was that Emile wasn't worried about it hatching, but him being able to care for it. Time? It was of the essence, always moving, and there was never enough of it.
A shot of worry slipped through his psyche and the question "do you want me to watch it for you?" leaped to the forefront but he didn't let it slip.
How weird would that be? Here, stranger, watch this strange egg of mine while I work. I've never met you before and we've only spoken for about twenty minutes so clearly this is a good idea and will have no repercussions! The same could be said of himself, asking to watch a strange, rich-looking man's egg. What if he tried to make it seem as though Tier had stolen it?
"Well, they come out looking really small... Like an infant... but they grow so fast," he glanced toward Salem just as Emile had. It really had only been less than a year. November of last year was when the egg had arrived, just as he was moving into his apartment, and January eighth was Salem's birth day. In point of fact, Salem was only six months old. "Really fast..."
A quiet cough sounded from the small Ashe, who had stopped crying and was now letting himself calm down, holding the glove tightly against his chest while the other hand fished around in their basket.
Tier's shoulder angel prodded him violently in the a**.
"Do you need help? ...With the egg?" It even surprised him once it was asked.
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Posted: Mon Aug 24, 2009 3:22 pm
He searched his mind for what question to ask first. There was so many of them! And the worry over his job with this little kid that would be coming soon was putting pressure on the part of his mind that put things in order and made the words come out right the first time. Emile dropped his hand from his face, a red mark crossing over his nose where he was pinching it. What would he do?
"Well, they come out looking really small...Like an infant...But they grow so fast."
Brown eyes went back to looking at Salem and he started to wonder how old the child was exactly. And how fast 'so fast' was. Now that he was over the initial shock of seeing the child for the first time, he was calming down to his foreign appearance. He was a cute little kid, in his own strange way. Emile was still looking at the boy as he responded to Tier's question.
"It's not so much the egg I need help with, " He looked at that starry surface before turning his attention back to the blue-haired man. "But with my job. I'm..." He didn't have to hide it, so why was he pausing? Though it did kinda seem like Emile was giving this guy his life story and that was bad enough. "I'm a butler for a rich household. My hours...Let's just say I get up with the sun and get back home way after midnight. I figured what would be in the egg was some kind of funky chicken, I dunno, but a kid's a whole different ballpark."
He had been holing away money in his bank account since he started working, so money wasn't a problem. Interest must have made it a nice sum by now too, but his hours...He could maybe sneak out in between things, but he couldn't leave a baby in his home by itself, no matter how long. He didn't know what Tier was offering, but he had only met this man. Sure he had a kid and looked respectable but-
"I don't want to give the egg up. Heck, I only found it last night and yet I already feel an attachment to it. But I can't go on calling up my supervisors and saying I'm sick all the time. They'll get suspicious because it's not me." Maybe finding another job would be in order. But what? Could he really leave after years of servitude? Where would he live? Everyone needed change at some point and he was sure the family wouldn't send people after him for quitting but still!
The egg was sitting still in the bag, and he could just see that dust-colored cloud drifting lazily around it. An egg that contained an infant that would be born soon, but how soon, he didn't know. Emile needed time to think. He figured he had amassed some vacation time over the years, but he didn't know how much of that time carried over. Two weeks, two months? He'd take anything. The older man shifted his weight and looked at Tier. He'd have to be open to that question, though he'd make sure Tier wasn't going to snatch his egg and vanish without a trace.
"What sort of help do you have in mind?"
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