205 Near Disasters
Voice Post
[Niko sounds as though he shouldn’t be talking. He sounds as though he shouldn’t be awake. The pauses are frequent, necessary to put his mind back on the task at hand since, between the drugs and his illness, his thoughts are on their own private walkabout.]
Let me tell you about the stereotypical American father. He works hard, pays the bills, and looks after his family. He might miss his son's birth because of traffic or his job, but he makes it home or to the hospital to hold his child for the first time. [There it is, the first stop to rest, but oxygen is a wonderful thing and energizes body and mind when delivered in purest form.] He talks about how, when his son is older, they’ll play catch, throw footballs, and go fishing on Saturday mornings. He spends hours preparing bottles, changing diapers, and rocking his son to sleep.
[A second pause drags out longer than the first, carries with it the feeling of absence, as though Niko’s wandered away for a moment, but when he continues he behaves as though he never stopped.]
Over the years, he'll doctor skinned knees, drive to Little League games, and teach his son how to deal with bullies. He'll sing the praises of shop class and classic cars. He'll worry about his son’s future. He'll attend graduation with a smile on his face, and when it's all over there will be a firm handshake and a proud embrace. [He briefly strays from the topic, voice low, regretful, not meant to be heard.] Cal should have had that instead of a final and pizza squeezed in between running for our lives.
[He’s quicker to wrest his attention back to the matter at hand this time, the regret giving way to bitterness.]
Apparently the stereotype is what sons whose fathers don't give a damn are supposed to dream about. I'd have settled for a hundred dollars in the mail and an admission of responsibility, and I hope he's paying attention since for once he insists on staying.
[Niko sighs deeply, exhaustion mingling with exasperation, each contributing to the other.]
This is the second time in three months I've been snowed into a hospital, the third time I've been told not to leave, and the first time I don't mind the nurse bringing me better sleep through chemicals.
[ooc: Canon couldn't make up its mind about Nik's dad. First it said they've met a few times, and then it said they've never had contact. What it does say clearly is that Sophia claims Niko was a mistake (whoops, so much for contraception), Dad ran off either before Niko was born or soon after, and Nik's not thrilled with him.
Please assume all replies are voice replies unless otherwise noted.]
[Niko sounds as though he shouldn’t be talking. He sounds as though he shouldn’t be awake. The pauses are frequent, necessary to put his mind back on the task at hand since, between the drugs and his illness, his thoughts are on their own private walkabout.]
Let me tell you about the stereotypical American father. He works hard, pays the bills, and looks after his family. He might miss his son's birth because of traffic or his job, but he makes it home or to the hospital to hold his child for the first time. [There it is, the first stop to rest, but oxygen is a wonderful thing and energizes body and mind when delivered in purest form.] He talks about how, when his son is older, they’ll play catch, throw footballs, and go fishing on Saturday mornings. He spends hours preparing bottles, changing diapers, and rocking his son to sleep.
[A second pause drags out longer than the first, carries with it the feeling of absence, as though Niko’s wandered away for a moment, but when he continues he behaves as though he never stopped.]
Over the years, he'll doctor skinned knees, drive to Little League games, and teach his son how to deal with bullies. He'll sing the praises of shop class and classic cars. He'll worry about his son’s future. He'll attend graduation with a smile on his face, and when it's all over there will be a firm handshake and a proud embrace. [He briefly strays from the topic, voice low, regretful, not meant to be heard.] Cal should have had that instead of a final and pizza squeezed in between running for our lives.
[He’s quicker to wrest his attention back to the matter at hand this time, the regret giving way to bitterness.]
Apparently the stereotype is what sons whose fathers don't give a damn are supposed to dream about. I'd have settled for a hundred dollars in the mail and an admission of responsibility, and I hope he's paying attention since for once he insists on staying.
[Niko sighs deeply, exhaustion mingling with exasperation, each contributing to the other.]
This is the second time in three months I've been snowed into a hospital, the third time I've been told not to leave, and the first time I don't mind the nurse bringing me better sleep through chemicals.
[ooc: Canon couldn't make up its mind about Nik's dad. First it said they've met a few times, and then it said they've never had contact. What it does say clearly is that Sophia claims Niko was a mistake (whoops, so much for contraception), Dad ran off either before Niko was born or soon after, and Nik's not thrilled with him.
Please assume all replies are voice replies unless otherwise noted.]