a happy little backdated thread. vague time but a couple weeks to a month old

Giggle trotted down the stone path, dust kicking up at every step. She was making rounds--checking this and that, as she did now and again. Lorekeeper. Skeena. Bones, or his stone. Eythan. Those were her usual targets, though she didn't always find them--and she was getting worried that she hadn't seen Vinea in awhile, but that kid had always been elusive.

She wasn't sure where Eythan or Skeena would be; she just kept her nose in the air and tended to follow it if and when she caught their scents. Eythan's hit her first, and she veered off, trotting toward it.

"Eythan?" she called out, hoarsely, but it wasn't an urgent tone; a casual call to see if he was there, and little more.

Omen was somewhere in the distance--circling, looking for Lorekeeper; she liked watching the old creature, for reasons Giggle couldn't ever quite fathom. That was for the best... Omen did not like Eythan, and it was better she wasn't... here, for this meeting.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

Giving life to stones was somewhat of an exhausting endeavor. It drew a pretty sizable chunk of magicka out from your stone; for a creature that seldom used it, that was a lot. The first round of kids (and wasn't it tragic how his thoughts mirrored Giggle's?) had been pretty tiring. This one? Not so much. Eythan was either just used to it, now, or making just one kid was way easier than than two or three.

The aftershock of that conception was something like elation, though. Eagerness and trepidation had his eyes just a little brighter today, and pep in his step. One could even say he was glowing. It was a massive change of pace from Eythan's usual low, slinking gait. Sure, his head was still held low, but - let the damn cat have a bit of joy, eh?

Giggle called his name hoarsely, and goddamnit he rumbled while turning to face her. His legs carried him towards her, and he chirped back brightly, "heya!" His beak stuck out, but he'd let her initiate the nuzzling and greetings. The gryphon's tail flicked idly, "what's happenin'?" Casual as always.

@Giggle

Eythan seemed... happy? Affectionate? And that was a change. Giggle was taken aback at the warmth of the greeting, the extended beak--it was unexpected, but she wasn't about to snub him, as unusual as it might've been. She offered a quizzical but friendly enough muzzle-to-beak touch, trying even now to think of him as family and not something else, to this day pushing away thoughts of Aza'zel and his first, white cub.

Gah.

She looked Eythan over, focusing instead on him, family now, ally. "You seem happy," she observed, and then laughed roughly. "I'm just making my rounds. I'll go hunting for Lorekeeper soon. But how are you? You're... more relaxed than usual," she settled on, at last, because telling a male leopard-bird that he was beaming like an expectant mother would be... odd.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

Nudge, nudge - Eythan was... more than a bit grateful for the progress made between them, even with the constant elephant in the room that was his (and another's) death. Every bit of thinking back on his cycles spent in isolation came to the same, unerring conclusion: how did I survive? He'd never hibernated, and scarcely left the higher points of Polaris. He'd never gotten himself out of the murk of survivor's guilt and his own tumultuous feelings about a dead father.

That question, though, often had the same answer to him: goddamned Gembound resilience. An innate urge to survive and keep oneself alive. Bones were all they had left when the rest was gone to stone or Oil.

Anyways - "do I?" Eythan glanced at himself for dramatic effect. His shoulders ached at the mentioning of the Lorekeeper, but he asked after her, "how is she? Settled back into her den?" He hadn't checked (and cursed himself a bit for that, being preoccupied with other things.)

The gryphon turned his head towards the Chambers, a rather broad smile on his face; "I gave that stone life and... it's kinda exciting." From the good omens or the prospect of fatherhood, he wasn't sure. Both? "didn't think it was that obvious, y'know? But, 'guess I'm a little worried, too." Shrug.

@Giggle

To Eythan's question about Lorekeeper, Giggle merely shrugged and grunted, pacing half-past him so they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. She was peering off toward Lorekeeper's den--far too far to see, but apparently there in Giggle's thoughts. "She's as well as she can be. As well as she ever is," and the tone wasn't grim or sad so much as matter-of-fact. She'd never run and jump and travel, but she lived; she was always wearily exhausted, but she wasn't dead, at least.

Ah, but this other news--the hyena's head came up, eyes widening a touch. "You did!" There was surprise in it, and honest joy; there was no filter on this immediate, reflexive response. "Oh, Eythan, I'm so glad for you." There was an instant, then, when the status quo lurked there, bewildered, wondering where the hell it should go now--Giggle wasn't close to Eythan, she couldn't be, he was a cat and a killer and she'd never trust him etc. etc. But--a baby! Her motherly instincts were already kicked back into high gear, and she beamed at him.

"No, no, don't be worried. I'm sure it'll turn out fine." And there was the dismissive good nature of the grandmother who'd already had the kids to worry about, and then some.

Giggle didn't think of Damask as Eythan's, nor did she really blame him for having had no part in raising her--it had been a favor to Aure first and foremost, a spur of the moment thing so the life of Aure's gemstone wasn't lost. And Eythan had made mention, too, of another stone he'd given life but--again, not a child, not like this deliberate creation. So far as she was concerned, this would be his first real foray into parenthood.

"But-!" and here she plopped cheerfully onto her haunches, rough voice full of both amusement and encouragment, "Do you want to tell me what you're worried about? Plus I guess I should give you some, you know, advice on raising kids. It'll be the first one you're really raising, right?"

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

Good as usual, then. Eythan nodded. That was nice, at least. Nothing to worry about there.

His enthusiasm returned full-force with Giggle's own joy, and he nodded, "I planted it - uh, the stone -" (bit of awkward phrasing there...) "in the Chambers." Already, Eythan started to move in that direction, "I can show you where." Bright eyes watched the hyena plonk down, and he did the same, "or it can wait a sec." The chrysalis wouldn't pop legs and run away anytime soon, right? They just sat in place making a baby through whatever method they did.

Maybe he should get through his jitters first before looking at the chrysalis. That seemed wise -

His tail flicked and he shrugged. Licking at his beak and grinding it, the gryphon visibly struggled to articulate the vast sum of worries he held. "First one, yeah," he blinked slowly, "'n I guess I'm just worried 'bout fuckin' it up like the first two I made. Did the bare minimum and I haven't seen Elyon in ages and Eli's off to who-knows-where lookin' for her." He swallowed. "'n I feel kinda shitty about not bein' a dad to Damask because I was too much of a pussy to try it even though I didn't really give that stone life with a whole lotta... I dunno, feeling?"

Besides that - "what if the kid doesn't want me, y'know? I know the bones are usually right, but what if I'm not meant to do this parentin' shit? What if all the signs say for me to stick as Uncle Eythan?" Sounded like a whole lot of worries for something that sounded like a single run-on sentence.

@Giggle

She laughed brightly. "Oh, we can go now?" she replied, to the first, pushing half-back off her haunches. She'd leave that up to Eythan.

To his worries, though, she listened, and her expression gradually sobered. The very last--uncle Eythan--tugged at her heart. "...I think, as a parent," she started slowly--and it was with the tone of one with thoughtful experience, not patronizing, not commanding--"you--we--have responsibilities and... well, expectations. If that makes sense?"

She paused, sitting back down to truly think this out before speaking, every word careful. It wasn't that it was a dangerous thing to get wrong--no; it was that it was an important thing to get right. "Our responsibility is to keep them safe, mainly. And to teach them about the world. To correct any misconceptions. To train them to survive--whether that's... magic or just warning them about dangers, all of that. And to give them what they want, so long as it doesn't spoil them!" Giggle laughed harshly, here, a broad-mouthed cackle. "To love them and support them, give them advice when they ask for it, a safe place to rest when they need it. But they need structure, too. You can't let a kid just wreck your bones and beat people up," she went on, thinking very distinctly (and warmly) of Kerberos.

"Then you have this whole bundle of... expectations, Eythan--at least, that's how I see it. You picture 'parenthood,' and 'kid,' and have these ideas in your head of how they should be. But my advice, for what it's worth, is don't worry about that. Worry about the kid--giving them what they need, protecting them, giving 'em structure and training and love. Whatever happens from there, you know you did your best, then. But this is your kid, no one else's. This isn't Uncle Eythan's stone. Don't let anyone just take the kid away from you," she added, thoughtful. "I don't think anyone would, but you have authority over your own child, you know? You set the boundaries, you set the rules. I don't think it'll come to that, though. I think you just need to remember that raising a kid is about the kid. And I think as soon as they hatch, you'll remember that," she added, but it was a hopeful statement, not a harsh one. And then she shrugged. "But one thing to remember. I've raised a bunch of kids, but I'm not an expert. Nobody's here to tell us how to do this. What's right, wrong. So there's no real best way to parent! Find your own way; maybe it'll be better than anyone else's, so far."

She gave him an encouraging hyena-smile, and hoped that her mess of words had been... at least a little coherent, a little bit helpful for him.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

"Talk along the way, yeah?" The corners of his beak tilted into a slight smile. Up 'n at 'em, then.

Eythan did more listening than... well, talking — "along the way." He didn't want to miss a word. The gryphon focused so hard on making sure his ears were in position that he nearly tripped more than once; and, every time, his wings spread halfway as if to catch himself. If he were truly falling, it'd be too late every time.

Catastrophic trips all avoided by the time Giggle was done speaking, he nodded slowly. Worry more about the kid, his mind summarized, even though the old hyena'd already done just that for him. Think less about what kind of parent you'll be, and more about what you'll give the kid. No, my kid. Didn't that just spawn all sorts of warm, fuzzy feelings in the chest? And - then, his mind drifted back to Damask. He'd offered none of that. Aure hadn't given her any structure or boundaries, any... security? Peace of mind? Knowing what she could and couldn't do.

Eythan hadn't given her a chance to decide. He blinked slowly, intently focused face slipping into a frown for just a moment. Not yet, he promised himself and swore to be at least a little bit more proactive than his baby brother.

In any case — he turned to give Giggle his warmest, spottiest smile, "thanks for the advice, Giggle. It means a lot to have you... erm, help m'chase away m'worries." Talons scuffled against the earth, almost bashful. "Maybe I won't fuck up —" Eythan practically bit his tongue to keep that self-depreciating thought to himself. He spun it around into something a bit better: "maybe... I can reach out to the others? If it isn't... I dunno, too late?"

If only he knew the one's fate.

The alcove edged into view, and he picked up the pace. Tail tip fanning out and lashing eagerly once or twice, Eythan paused beside it and gestured for her to enter first. It wasn't a narrow entrance by any means — neither was it a large space occupied by chrysalis — but the gryphon was being polite.

"This is the place," he chirped softly, like he was worried he'd wake the baby too soon.

@Giggle

She spoke as they padded along, falling silent at last, listening intently--with bright eyes and pricked ears--to Eythan's hesitant replies.

When he suggested catching up with the others, she brightened further. "I'd say, do it," she encouraged. A brief moment of hesitation, then, as she realized what this meant. "Damask is impossible to reach," she added, more quietly. "I've been trying. She visits me, but no matter what I say or do she stays... aloof. Standoffish. Hides what she thinks. She's afraid of everything and won't admit it; wants to be strong but doesn't know how. But you can try." Giggle shrugged. It was exhausting to try, and it made her feel hopeless, miserable, that nobody could break through, that she was only "grandma" and not the parent to show some boundaries, some stern-ness. No, she could only watch as the child--who had been hidden from her, and for what?!--grew into a broken adult. Nothing she'd done had affected that. She'd have liked to say "it can't hurt to try" but it felt like every attempt at a step forward had merely shoved her back.

She shook the thought away. One broken, estranged child in a warm family--this was not the thing to be thinking of when she entered the alcove to greet a new stone, no. It was bad omens. Poor luck. "I definitely think a kid would be better off with a more present parent," Giggle added, quietly. "And I think... maybe you'll be better at it than Aure is." She fired a tired gaze to Eythan. He'd been meant to help Aure grow, to look after him, to advise and protect him--those had been the 'terms,' so to speak, of their familial agreement. Yet Aure had botched raising the child--badly--and where had Eythan been? Giggle wasn't angry about it; she knew the circumstances. But it had, in some sense, cost a life. Damask might never be happy. (And with a jolt, Giggle realized that was true; in every single interaction she'd ever had with the kid, Damask had never once been happy.)

Eyes closed as she pushed these thoughts away for a second time. The alcove. Surely this wasn't a trap-

-She pushed these thoughts away too, harshly. It's time to stop judging him, she told herself, a quiet thought, and then looked to Eythan. "I think giving life to an old stone, an old bone, is one of the kindest things you can do. One of the biggest gifts. We all muck things up; this time you'll do it right, yeah?" she offered, encouragingly. She'd have liked to reassure him that his other kids weren't that much of a wreck but that'd have been a fucking lie, so she didn't, instead turning and striding into the alcove.

It was an oily stone, something that at once warned her of... wrongness. A throbbing unease, a threat lying dormant. She hesitated, and then strode straight to the stone, pressing her nose against it. A touch of magic and then she saw: uneven, unclear images. Something running, almost... horse-like? But with claws; pale purple and streaked with inky black stripes. And ahead of it a crowd of spined, violet, alien creatures--varied in design but sharing those characteristics--darting over rock and sand. The image was brief, and Giggle pulled back as it ended, thinking.

"It's... one of the old ones, I think," she said, surprised. "Like Lorekeeper is. I see--stripes and purple," she went on, unaware that she'd in fact seen a former inhabitant of the stone, and not the most recent one.

A pause, as she regarded it. It felt off, certainly; but it didn't fill her with the dread that she'd expected. She looked to Eythan. "You know, once it's hatched, maybe Lorekeeper herself might know something of its... Of whoever lived with this stone? Maybe she could recognize it," she suggested. It might be useful information, or just... emotional; whatever the case, it was a possibility, at least.

She looked to Eythan, and smiled. "Do you have a name picked out; or are you going to have it pick its own?" she asked him, gently.

rain stock: D Sharon Pruitt wiki commons; hyena Benjamin Hollis on flickr

@Eythan

what's up, it totally hasn't been a month+ since my last response to this thread :pensive:

The encouragement—he appreciated that. Spotted brows furrowed, a slight smile on his face. But, Giggle'd continued into what ailed him most. Damask. All those adjectives she appended to the raptor weren't anything but accurate. Aloof, standoffish, hiding. Eythan didn't want to think that she was afraid of everything, but... how could he knew? His magic worked at the bare minimum and he'd never ventured into the realm of possibilities it offered. Not that he would've ever poked and prodded for answers. If he couldn't do it with the tools his gem gave him, then why should he cheat and take a stab at it with magic?

"I'll try," he wagered, almost sounding tired of the thought already. Same as before.

Same as the old Seer was, firing a longing gaze at him. Eythan tensed beneath it for just a moment, half expecting further reproach even though she was merely hoping that he'd be better. His brother wasn't a bad parent; just... inexperienced. At least he hadn't given his young child the bare minimums, a pat on the rear, and a send-off into the wide, wide world. "Mayhaps..." the gryphon mused quietly, "I've got cycles more of experience on 'im." A halfhearted wry smirk. "Here's to fuckin' hopin', eh?" S'all we've got sometimes...

His beak click!ed shut a few seconds too late, a soft grumble escaping him while Giggle approached the chrysalis. Worried about the baby hearing him, and he's out here letting his lips flap. Swear words and all. He'd better work on his filter again, lest this little one emerge a swearing mess. Step number one of improving his parenting.

"It's... one of the old ones, I think."

Bright eyes blinked slowly. It was... almost not a surprise to him; hardly any of the bones looked like they were anything normal. Femurs with too large of heads, stray teeth larger than his arm was long, massive spined vertebrae. Of course, he didn't think he'd ever specified that he'd taken this stone from Jupiter's den. Had he? Fuck it, may as well make mention of it—"well, y'see—I took it from that place Lorekeep wanted us t'find." His head craned some, barking a short laugh, "but, yeah, we can ask'er. S'long as she's stays awake for us." He could see it now. They'd get just their answer and little else.

Or, no answer at all. Time would tell. Either way—"I hope she doesn't mind me takin' that from that den." Didn't seem too concerned with taking the painting, but... y'know.

Names. Right. Just like most other things with this kid, "no, I don't have one." Eythan settled down to chat for a while. A spotted shoulder shrugged, "doesn't seem right t' before I've... I dunno, seen 'em." He blinked, giving an imploring look like yeah? "If th' kid pops out with a name too, like... I want 'em to have it, whatever it is. Even if it's sum'n silly. Bonelord..." His chest seized with a soft laugh. "It's theirs. And... they're ours."

Not even born yet, and the kid had a gooey-hearted father looking over them. He'd chatter for as long as the old hyena stood it.

fade to exit lmfao
@Giggle