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 Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 6:42 pm
It was a nice day, which meant it was a day to be playing outside. It helped that Papa had recently signed Lucy up for girl's softball--it gave an outlet for her boundless energy, a place for her competitive nature to shine. And besides that, Lucy was a powerhouse with a bat in her hands. When she managed to hit the ball--not often, but often enough--it went soaring.
Today wasn't a softball practice day, but that didn't mean Lucy couldn't practice. With a long-suffering look, a girl with a multicolored mohawk was tossing a softball hand to hand and, on occasion, when the red-haired woman watching them began to get antsy, she'd pitch it, and the ball would go soaring with a crack! Then it was the mohawked girl's duty to chase it down and maybe pitch it again.
One of these pitches happened to be aligned just right for the sweet spot on Lucy's bat. There was the usual, expected crack, and then-- and then it sped off in a beeline for a pair of people just entering the park, one a tall man and the other a small, winged boy.
"Hey," cried Lucy, "look out!"
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Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 9:21 pm
Time seemed to slow for a few short seconds as Avery watched the ball soaring towards himself and his chil- his ward. Kingfisher just looked on, seemingly wondering what this thing about to make a sudden and loud connection with his face. Avery would have none of this, of course. With his best action-thriller impersonation, he cried out, "Kiiiiiiiiiiing!" before covering the frail boy's body with his own.
The softball (by no means soft, contrary to popular belief) ricocheted off of Avery's back, an impact sure to leave a bruise in the morning. Bruise or no bruise, he was up in an instant, checking Kingfisher from top to bottom. He seemed all together; he even smiled as his 'daddy' fretted over him.
"I'm ok!" he cheered, beaming up at Avery. "Not broken!" For extra effect, he waggled each of his major appendages to show that they were all in working order. Still, not even Avery's worrying fatherly ways could distract the little Herald for long and he soon darted off to grab onto a low branch on a nearby tree. His love of high places was unrivaled by none and he quickly scrabbled to a high branch and started swinging his legs in the gentle breeze, whistling at any bird that came close by.
"Hey, who hit me with this ball!?" Avery yelled, holding the object in question high over his head. On any ordinary day he would be more worried about Kingfisher's fascination with worrying him to death, but this hooligan with a baseball bat seemed to be a bigger threat.
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 7:27 pm
Lucy had watched the arc of the ball with wide-eyed fascination as her older cousin moved off to retrieved it. There wasn't anything she could do to stop the ball's trajectory now, and she'd called out a warning, so what could you really expect her to do? Fly over? Not so much--Lucy was a little heavier than most people--the doctor said her bones were weird--could barely get off the ground. If she jumped from a height and flew, it worked better. She just needed a wider wingspan, Papa said, but that didn't comfort her now.
The mohawked girl held out one hand with a scowl. She was tall--not so tall as the angry man, sure, but still, tall enough. "The little winged kid did it," she said, throwing Lucy under the bus without a second thought. "Can I have it back, please."
Meanwhile, the Herald had decided there wasn't any real point to waiting for her ball to be returned. She abandoned the softball bat in the grass, and crossed to a tree that had a little boy in it. Clambering up was a bit complex, but she managed to perch herself next to the blue-haired boy. "Hi," she said brightly with a gap-toothed smile. "I'm Lucy."
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Posted: Tue Sep 07, 2010 4:32 pm
Avery scowled, but plopped the ball into the mohawked girl's hand anyway with a grunt.
"Of course," he grumbled, "Had to be a winged kid..." Which reminded him... Where was his winged kid? Only he could get a concussion from a rogue softball and run off as if nothing had happened... It was enough to make Avery sigh.
"Ok, ok, sorry... miss. What was your name again?" he said, turning back to the 'culprit,' (though she had said it was the young Herald he had spotted with a bat, he felt she could share in the responsibility) "And where's the little girl who hit my ki- Uh, Kingfisher? She should probably apologize to him, you know."
Kingfisher, as it turned out, didn't mind. "Hi! You hit me with a ball," he said to the newcomer, turning his head at a somewhat odd angle as he did so. "It's ok."
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