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 Posted: Fri Feb 19, 2016 10:04 am
Oblivion needed this crying to stop.
He'd endured twin tantrums for just under a year now, at all hours of the day at night. Just piteous howling any time one of them was awake. And then the crying would wake the other and they'd both scream and scream, and scream until they could hardly breathe. Then they'd promptly fall asleep. It seemed like no time at all before the cycle repeated itself. Endlessly. No reprieve. Ever. His mate assured him that all infants cried. They cried when they needed food or changing or love, and as they grew older, they'd quiet down.
Levi wanted to argue that no infant he'd ever raised had cried like this. Orakoi squeaked and chirped and could even scoot toward food on their own, with minimal aid from their parents. By a year they could even walk on their own and had much better communication skills. Two-legger children were quickly becoming the worst thing he'd ever experienced. Loud, helpless, and ugly. Was there ever a more distasteful combination? And all of this still after a year.
When was enough, enough?
'Now,' seemed the most pleasing answer.
It was early morning, with the sun just peeking through the shuttered windows of the twins' bedroom. Levi slipped down the hallway, and as the floor creaked beneath his weight, the screaming gave pause. To be frank, it wasn't fair to call it 'crying.' The tears and snot had ceased not too long ago. It was more accurate to call them 'extremely exuberant vocalizations.' He tapped he door with a claw, and gave it a gentle nudge to open it a fraction of the way. He peeked inside.
Heirass, the older boy, stood in his crib. His green gaze fixed to the door, and when he saw Levi- "Ahda! Dadad! Ahd ahd ahd" The sound went on while Oblivion stepped into the room. Pudgy little legs bounced against the stiff crib mattress, and little fists curled against the wooden frame. Recognition was followed by a high-pitched squeal of what Levi expected was excitement as he stooped down to collect the tiny body in his arms.
"Good morning, Heirass," Oblivion purred softly, dipping to dust a kiss to the crown on the child's head. "I see you're trying to wake your brother..." His gaze flicked to the other crib. Silence. After a quick check just to be certain all was well on that front, Levi took his bouncing, babbling bundle down the stairs for breakfast.
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Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 6:51 am
On two legs and dressed in brown outdoorsy clothes, Kekeovonnai was collecting new specimens for his classes that morning, and realized he was in Avani and Honoka's general region. It had been a while since he'd seen them, and he remembered the good food and good company. He also remembered that he had neglected to visit them since taking on his Khehorian form – an oversight that was due to everthing suddenly happening once he returned to Serenia. Professorship, clothes fittings, teaching, Xenosa, being presented at parties, consulting... He had been kept very busy. But now he was free, and he wanted to show off a little. And have breakfast, as he was hungry. He took flight, flying over the farmlands and the town on illusory wings and, finally, landing gracefully in Avani's meadow – away, of course, from the herd of Leklan that she kept. He made his way to the door and knocked, gently but firmly...
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Posted: Sun Feb 28, 2016 12:53 pm
Even after his time spent living in a two-legger abode, Oblivion still didn't feel particularly confident and familiar with all Avani's cooking contraptions. Less so when she wasn't immediately nearby, as was the case this morning. He was also fairly certain that his children did not need to have their food cooked and meticulously decontaminated, but again, he felt more confident of these assertions when it wasn't solely him with either of the infants. Breakfast would be dull today. It consisted of a small rectangle of cheese (which apparently made a very enjoyable smacking sound as it hit the floor, as that was where it continuously ended up), half a banana (Heirass considered it to be something like a crayon that he could draw on his face with), and a handful of peculiar granular 'o's that Levi found tasteless and dull, but that Hei enjoyed crushing beneath the bottom of his spoon into a fine and easily-dispersed powder.
Overall, a great success.
A messy, smelly success, but a success nonetheless. When the youngster's banana-crayon was whittled down to a disappointing nub, Heirass shouted his complaint, flinging his utensils and juice cup some relatively fair distance across the room for someone his size. He'd had enough of the chair of food and restraint. Why weren't mahm mahm mahm and the other Hei here? They should be here. They were entertaining and companionable. And the morning always begged a great deal of companionship that ahd ahd ahd was lacking in ability to provide.
"I wish you wouldn't throw things," Oblivion griped, wiping at his son's hands (despite attempts against it) with a dishcloth. "There," he huffed. Before Hei had the chance to re-smear himself against the still-messy table, Levi plucked him up and deposited him on the floor on his feet. The toddler tipped forward, and his palms smacked the wood floor loudly. The sound briefly gave Levi pause, but then Hei was scooting off toward the living room. "So dramatic," he grunted.
He should probably not linger long. A preliminary wipe at the table and hasty scooting of floor-food into a pile with his foot, then-
A knock on the door. Brief silence from the living room. Before rapid pitter-patter of palms hitting the floor, likely toward the source of the noise. Fortunately, Levi's longer strides brought him to the door first, and he nudged back at Hei with a foot, as if holding off a particularly excited animal. He expected (and he imagined Heirass expected) Avani's parents. They weren't strangers around the house at any hour of the day or night, and the morning was no exception.
Oblivion opened the door halfway through a greeting, and proceeded to break into an impulsive snarl at the unfamiliar figure of someone he didn't know. Strangers were always unwelcome. Moreso the taloned, tail-swishy, large- Another khehorian. This much came to him in the first instant. The next instant was filled with unsavory answers as to why another khehorian would be at his doorstep. The third instant-
A hand on his leg, scratching and scrabbling in an attempt to climb him as Hei dragged himself to his feet and stared up at the stranger. Big like Dad. And dark like Dad. Everyone else was pale or colorful. He began to question the stranger's origin. "Haa-ah-ay brr-reep!" Levi's tail slunk around him and lifted, and the Diabi's gaze snapped back to the other male.
If there had been any less distraction, he doubted he would've sounded pleasant. But his gaze met with green eyes and a second later there was faint recognition of the particular string of colors that wound their way up the man's nose. He inhaled, pointed and wary, and was met with an almost painfully familiar whiff of mountain air and sandy beaches. Levi's tail sank low enough for Hei's feet to touch the ground, though he wasn't released. Another moment of speculation and stiff hesitance, then, "Keke?"
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