05-29-2016, 08:42 AM
I can't help but grin at the guardian Pazuzu constructs from shadows and magic, a little bit of Tycho's blood telling in the dark feline that takes shape. Its eyes are a wicked green instead of sharp predatory gold, but there is an echo of Nocturnal in the curve of its back, the flicking of the end of its tail, the narrowing of eerie eyes as it watches its maker. Our little demon, whose attention was caught the instant his father started working magic, stares at the shadow beast with utter fascination, delight written all over the rich red-violet of his face.
He circles around the oversized panther, eyes just a shade or two lighter glued to the creature. He studies every inch of its surface as a familiar hunger for knowledge builds on his face, in the unblinking stare, the sharp pricking of his ears, the tilt of his head. He has learned to base his reference for what is possible among the less gifted on my significantly more limited abilities and his own experience. Still, I can see questions and yearning shimmering in the depths of those dark eyes.
Oh, but only briefly; that yearning is replaced by awe when Zuzu explains the creature's purpose. “For me?” he asks with subtle widening of the eyes, a hint of a curve to the corner of his lips, his breath coming just a little bit faster. I catch Pazuzu's gaze and smile. Oh, well done, love. Very well done.
“Yes, Father. Thank you.” In one of his most enthusiastic shows of affection to date, at least while he's awake, our little demon curls up against his father's chest, rubs his cheek against Zuzu's shoulder, and lets out a happy little sigh. “Thank you, Father,” he murmurs again before pulling back to study the creature once again. “How? Magic of course, I know, and it is fairly evident you harnessed shadows based on the nature of the body and the way it came together, shadows drawing toward you and molding into shape. But there is significantly more than the manipulation of shadows at work here.”
There is intelligence in the glowing green eyes. The panther exists for a purpose, to act as a guardian so our son can indulge his curiosity and wander safely. “Is it sentient?” Tycho asks, drawing close enough to touch, staring into glowing green and searching. “Can I communicate with it?” He pauses and glances at his father, head tilted. “Him, or it?” Then his gaze is locked once again to his new companion, studying the craftsmanship. The artistry. “Either way, you have wrought a thing of beauty, Father. How is he animate?”
Leave it to Tycho to get more caught up in the process and the mechanics of creating such a thing than what it means. Independence for our once-tiny beast. He's old enough now that he can wander beyond the demands of his belly, and this will be the first time he's truly apart from both of us. With his father's protection in the form of a guardian, yes, but he'll be on his own. Ignoring the tiny pang of sadness that my little monster is getting so big already, I smile and reach out to nudge his shoulder.
When he looks at me, his brow furrowed at the distraction, head tilted in inquiry, that smile widens into a grin. “Grill your dad later, huh? Go have some fun, get into trouble—not too much trouble,” I add with a stern look, but it melts quickly back into a grin. “Playground, son of mine. Back by dark or spend the night.” I kiss him on the cheek, grinning at the way he wrinkles his nose and huffs out an irritated breath at the touch. “I love you, kid.”
He grunts and mutters a quick “Love you too,” back, still clearly annoyed that I interrupted his interrogation. I fight to wipe the grin off my face while he hugs his dad, murmurs a much more sincere “Thank you. Love you,” against Pazuzu's chest, and then nods at the panther and sets out for the Playground. I watch as he walks away, ignoring the sad little hitch of my breath, the tightness in my chest. He'll be back in a few hours. Or in the morning, at the latest.
Which. Oh hello. Buys Pazuzu and I an awful lot of alone time. Without needing magic walls to keep little eyes from seeing or hearing things they shouldn't. Mmm, isn't that interesting. “Well now,” I croon, leaning into Zuzu and trailing my lips along the line of his shoulder, “whatever will we do with ourselves until nightfall? Or until morning...” I bite his neck, not hard enough to draw blood but definitely no gentle little nip either. “I have a few ideas about how we could spend that time.” I pull back with a wicked little grin. “Mountain climbing? Invade a kingdom, stage a coup? Know any good games?”
He circles around the oversized panther, eyes just a shade or two lighter glued to the creature. He studies every inch of its surface as a familiar hunger for knowledge builds on his face, in the unblinking stare, the sharp pricking of his ears, the tilt of his head. He has learned to base his reference for what is possible among the less gifted on my significantly more limited abilities and his own experience. Still, I can see questions and yearning shimmering in the depths of those dark eyes.
Oh, but only briefly; that yearning is replaced by awe when Zuzu explains the creature's purpose. “For me?” he asks with subtle widening of the eyes, a hint of a curve to the corner of his lips, his breath coming just a little bit faster. I catch Pazuzu's gaze and smile. Oh, well done, love. Very well done.
“Yes, Father. Thank you.” In one of his most enthusiastic shows of affection to date, at least while he's awake, our little demon curls up against his father's chest, rubs his cheek against Zuzu's shoulder, and lets out a happy little sigh. “Thank you, Father,” he murmurs again before pulling back to study the creature once again. “How? Magic of course, I know, and it is fairly evident you harnessed shadows based on the nature of the body and the way it came together, shadows drawing toward you and molding into shape. But there is significantly more than the manipulation of shadows at work here.”
There is intelligence in the glowing green eyes. The panther exists for a purpose, to act as a guardian so our son can indulge his curiosity and wander safely. “Is it sentient?” Tycho asks, drawing close enough to touch, staring into glowing green and searching. “Can I communicate with it?” He pauses and glances at his father, head tilted. “Him, or it?” Then his gaze is locked once again to his new companion, studying the craftsmanship. The artistry. “Either way, you have wrought a thing of beauty, Father. How is he animate?”
Leave it to Tycho to get more caught up in the process and the mechanics of creating such a thing than what it means. Independence for our once-tiny beast. He's old enough now that he can wander beyond the demands of his belly, and this will be the first time he's truly apart from both of us. With his father's protection in the form of a guardian, yes, but he'll be on his own. Ignoring the tiny pang of sadness that my little monster is getting so big already, I smile and reach out to nudge his shoulder.
When he looks at me, his brow furrowed at the distraction, head tilted in inquiry, that smile widens into a grin. “Grill your dad later, huh? Go have some fun, get into trouble—not too much trouble,” I add with a stern look, but it melts quickly back into a grin. “Playground, son of mine. Back by dark or spend the night.” I kiss him on the cheek, grinning at the way he wrinkles his nose and huffs out an irritated breath at the touch. “I love you, kid.”
He grunts and mutters a quick “Love you too,” back, still clearly annoyed that I interrupted his interrogation. I fight to wipe the grin off my face while he hugs his dad, murmurs a much more sincere “Thank you. Love you,” against Pazuzu's chest, and then nods at the panther and sets out for the Playground. I watch as he walks away, ignoring the sad little hitch of my breath, the tightness in my chest. He'll be back in a few hours. Or in the morning, at the latest.
Which. Oh hello. Buys Pazuzu and I an awful lot of alone time. Without needing magic walls to keep little eyes from seeing or hearing things they shouldn't. Mmm, isn't that interesting. “Well now,” I croon, leaning into Zuzu and trailing my lips along the line of his shoulder, “whatever will we do with ourselves until nightfall? Or until morning...” I bite his neck, not hard enough to draw blood but definitely no gentle little nip either. “I have a few ideas about how we could spend that time.” I pull back with a wicked little grin. “Mountain climbing? Invade a kingdom, stage a coup? Know any good games?”
Daeryssa
of the restless heart