[Wild Roses] father and son
Title: corvidae
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Aodh, Takashi
Prompt: 42B "neverending"
Word Count: 262
Rating: G
Notes: His parents' courtship was largely characterized by annoyance, irate flailing, and a certain amount of biting. This has not, entirely, changed with time.
It's twilight, in a city that's not home.
Which doesn't matter all that much, beyond that he wouldn't be wearing battered gray cap or battered gray sweater to keep the wet out, at home. There, rain would just fail to hit, and his hair would be white-bleached-blond, not curling red.
The boots would be the same, though, he thought as he splashed through a puddle and shuffled his near foot at the half-blocked drain creating it.
A raven quorked in the tree just ahead and to his right, high enough in city-pruned branches that the hat blocked his view.
He paused, then, half-laughing, "Ever picked a fight with a parliament, doin' tha'?"
"Not yet," replied a familiar voice, smiling, and he glanced up to see his father's bare feet dangling in fall-baring branches too light to hold the apparent weight.
Shook his head, smile pulling half-willingly across his face. "Record it for me, would you? I don' want to tempt tha' many angry corvids with a second target."
"As y'will," Takashi replied easily, sprawling across a branch to put his face in range of the streetlights, still smiling.
"M'mother kick y'out again?" Aodh asked, pushing his hat back a bit and wishing the raindrops to miss his newly exposed skin.
"Threatened to chop off a tail 'less I absented my most annoying self from her paint supplies," his father agreed, "and as she had t'cleaver handy, I must confess I thought it best to at least g'ie the appearance of obeying." A pointy grin, showing all his teeth. "Leastways until she takes her eye off the cleaver."
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Aodh, Takashi
Prompt: 42B "neverending"
Word Count: 262
Rating: G
Notes: His parents' courtship was largely characterized by annoyance, irate flailing, and a certain amount of biting. This has not, entirely, changed with time.
It's twilight, in a city that's not home.
Which doesn't matter all that much, beyond that he wouldn't be wearing battered gray cap or battered gray sweater to keep the wet out, at home. There, rain would just fail to hit, and his hair would be white-bleached-blond, not curling red.
The boots would be the same, though, he thought as he splashed through a puddle and shuffled his near foot at the half-blocked drain creating it.
A raven quorked in the tree just ahead and to his right, high enough in city-pruned branches that the hat blocked his view.
He paused, then, half-laughing, "Ever picked a fight with a parliament, doin' tha'?"
"Not yet," replied a familiar voice, smiling, and he glanced up to see his father's bare feet dangling in fall-baring branches too light to hold the apparent weight.
Shook his head, smile pulling half-willingly across his face. "Record it for me, would you? I don' want to tempt tha' many angry corvids with a second target."
"As y'will," Takashi replied easily, sprawling across a branch to put his face in range of the streetlights, still smiling.
"M'mother kick y'out again?" Aodh asked, pushing his hat back a bit and wishing the raindrops to miss his newly exposed skin.
"Threatened to chop off a tail 'less I absented my most annoying self from her paint supplies," his father agreed, "and as she had t'cleaver handy, I must confess I thought it best to at least g'ie the appearance of obeying." A pointy grin, showing all his teeth. "Leastways until she takes her eye off the cleaver."