[broadcast mind]
"Faatherrr," a childish voice exclaims. There's a view of expensive burgundy brocade then tilting up to see a scholarly face.
"Not now, Ffamran." A large hand descending, ruffling short hair.
"But--"
"I'll take you to the theatre, next week, if you behave for the rest of this one." A hand dips into a pocket, producing a tiny model of an airship, made out of metal, wonderfully intricate, the tiny parts an almost exact likeness of it's larger scale counterpart. Two small hands reach out and hesitantly take it. He's supposed to take it apart and build it back together. A toy to placate him for the week.
The scholar smiles. "That's my boy."
[ooc: hopefully doing this right.]
"Not now, Ffamran." A large hand descending, ruffling short hair.
"But--"
"I'll take you to the theatre, next week, if you behave for the rest of this one." A hand dips into a pocket, producing a tiny model of an airship, made out of metal, wonderfully intricate, the tiny parts an almost exact likeness of it's larger scale counterpart. Two small hands reach out and hesitantly take it. He's supposed to take it apart and build it back together. A toy to placate him for the week.
The scholar smiles. "That's my boy."
[ooc: hopefully doing this right.]