[SE] 'Cause I'm on my bullshit like a matador

Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool

There has been an influx of little terrors, otherwise known as children, in his life as of late. He's reconsidering the conversation he and Flora had, when he thought he was accidentally a dad already, and wondering if it might be too late to submit his choice again with a new answer. The twins are already a lot—double the fun, when he's not in charge of them, but twice the trouble when he is. Their identicalness is problematic on the best of days and weaponized on the worst, especially if he ever misplaces one and can never be sure if he keeps finding the same one or the second one—he's tempted to bring a marker next time and secretly dot one of them somewhere only he can see.

Now though, there's only one child, but gods help him, it's Charlie's. That in and of itself is plenty, but add to that she's an ancient and  Dygra demigod, and he might as well be conducting Mission Impossible: babysitting edition. "Okay, sooooo, this is the port where all the main trading happens. We're gonna find the best flowers for you and your mom." He considers for a moment, pinching his chin as they walk, his backpack swaying behind him. "Well, second best. Uncle Mateo's are the best, but I needed to pick up some other things for dinner while we're here." And also he hoped by walking up and down the port, he'd wear her out, but that seems nearly an impossible thing with ancients if e's being honest.

---

Kaisel

All about the bounce in my step

Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle.

Having accepted his mission, Knell happily strolls alongside Special Agent Dad, oblivious to the secret objectives. She's more of an information gatherer herself, soaking in his every word while her gaze flits from one ostentatious stall to the next. There's just so much. The variety of colors and smells and wares and accents draw her attention in every direction, a million questions and theories rising from each new observation, flickering in her eyes like raindrops on a clear pond only to cascade into an infinite series of ripples that she'll never have enough time to identify. Instead, Knell keeps her mouth shut - figuratively since it's in a fixed position of awe - and absorbs as much as she can, trying desperately not to miss anything that might help her learn more about this trading hub. 

Her tail steadies her when one of the planks shifts beneath her feet, avoiding an awkward stumble when she sweeps the bustling crowds for flowers. "Why are Uncle Mateo's the best?" she asks absently, angling up on her toes when she sees a billow of oddly colored smoke. Are her eyes playing tricks on her or are they shaped funny?

Knell's red hair falls over a shoulder when she tilts her head to see around an exceptionally tall man ahead of them. "And what's for dinner?"

Knell

They read it to get to the end.

Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool

Why Mateo's flowers are the best is like asking why the sky is blue, which kids also do. "Because there's always someone who's the best," he asserts, more than happy to pass off the sage wisdom he's earned in his twenty-one years. "Usually, it's someone who devotes themselves to it, whatever it is." The moral of the story of course being that hard work pays off and practice makes perfect. If only it were so simple. He quickly realizes that truth branches off into others. "Except, sometimes people are just kinda born awesome, and so they're naturally talented at certain things." He grapples for a more relatable, grounded example. "Like the way your mom, uh... worships. She's a natural." Practiced at this point too, but that's feeling convoluted now.

"Aaaaanyway," he says, directing them around a fishmonger who's thrusting the day's catch at them like a good whiff might lighten their coin purse. "Mateo's job is plants. He grows 'em, arranges 'em, plants 'em, invents 'em. You name a thing you could do with plants, and I promise Mateo has done it, and done it better than most." The wood planks are worn smooth with all the travel atop them, and boot heels and hurried strides lay down a steady rhythm of bustle. "He found his passion, and he made the most of it."

Stopping with a hand on her shoulder near one, smaller stall, Kaisel leans down to admire the bouquets on display. He cups beneath the petals with his fingertips, and leans in closer to get a good whiff of the scent. "Maybe this. Do you like them?" She'd be the official flower approver, a very important job.

Coming back to her earlier question as he peruses another bunch, Kaisel hums in thought. "I was thinking mashed potatoes and chicken strips, with some snap peas."

Kaisel

All about the bounce in my step

Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle.

Having asked why Uncle Mateo's flowers are the best rather than why Uncle Mateo is the best, Knell is somewhat confused by the initial reply. Her eyes pinch in thought, pulling from their surroundings to look at Kai as if seeing him say the words might help them make sense. It doesn't, but ignoring the original question, she takes the answer for the merit it gives - after all, her mom's worshipping is the best. And it does somewhat help her understand that Uncle Mateo's skill must make his plants the best, even if she doesn't know what makes them better than the next person's. Perhaps that's something she'll have to find out for herself when she meets him one day. 

The conversation raises a question though, and Knell hums when she inspects Kai, trying to figure out the answer herself before asking, "What's your passion?" If her mom has one - worshipping - and Uncle Mateo has one - plants - then everyone must have one right? At least, all adults. Knell hasn't figured out hers yet. 

The hand on her shoulder makes her pause, attention slipping to the beautifully bouquets of flowers overtaking the stall next to them. Every surface is covered in varying shapes and colors, petals and leaves seeming to grow from every available inch of the wooden structure, leaving only a small hole where money is exchanged. 

Knell's nose twitches, taking in the muted scents of this form, her tail waving a delighted rhythm when the bright sweetness coats her senses. She leans forward to breathe it in more fully, a smile spreading wide when the smell is thick enough to nearly taste the purple hues on her tongue. Reaching out a small hand, she feels the softness of the petals. They're so delicate and fragile, threatening to separate even with her gentle touch. "They're pretty," she states, but it's an observation, not confirmation of their choice. 

Blue eyes scan the other options, landing immediately on the vibrant red of something labeled 'hyacinth.' They're dense and full of petals, a particularly rich and red sweetness assaulting her when Knell raises her nose to it. The appearance is deceptively gentle, but it stands tall - strong - with an underlying air that draws her close. They remind her of Dygra. 

"I like these," she shares, pointing to them when she smiles at Kai. 

Talk of food makes her mouth water, stomach gaping wide in preparation for the eventual meal, anticipation building when she thinks of the chicken strips. Mac and cheese might have been preferred to mashed potatoes, but there's a more important question she asks: "Will there be dessert?"

Knell

They read it to get to the end.

Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool

The question she poses does not take him by surprise, not entirely. It's a natural pathway from what they'd just been talking about, but he didn't expect the interest, and it softens and slows his stride for a moment as he looks down at her while they skirt the crowd. The response does not require much thought on his part, proclaiming it with the same force as a child would their age or favorite color. "Fighting for the ones I love." There is no hiding the violence and cruelty of the world, not even from a child, especially not a child of chaos. "I've always been a soldier. I serve my home, so that everyone who matters to me will be safe."

Even beyond the borders, where family and friends have scattered, he'd use his abilities for them too. Given the politics that can bind someone in his position normally, he isn't worried given his queen, his wife, is of much the same mind and generous with her aid, knowing too well the hardship of being left alone or with the body of one that could not be saved. "So basically, kicking ass," he grins, summarizing it with the succinctness he maybe should have started with.

He's gotten to be a better judge of flowers, given all his time with Flora and Mateo, but like art, they are subjective in many ways. Knell's preference for something else is more a statement about her than the petals, and it's unsurprising that red calls to her. "Hyacinth," he remarks, leaning in for his own pleasant whiff. "Excellent choice." Lifting his attention from her to the vendor, he purchases two bouquets.

As they're gathered and wrapped, Kaisel's attention drops back to Knell, a warm laugh escaping him followed by a dramatic gasp. "But of course! Dessert is also one of my passions!" Taking their flowers in hand, he sets them off towards the chicken stall, which boasts all manner of meat, even the kind still squawking. "What sort of dessert were you hoping for? We have, ten, I think, different flavors of ice cream at home, plus all the toppings you could want."

Kaisel

All about the bounce in my step

Nobody reads a mystery to get to the middle.

Based on the laughter and big smiles she notes, Kai seems like the kind of person who might say 'fun' or 'jokes' as his passion, someone who takes life easy and encourages others to do so. She doesn't expect such a heavy answer from him. Blinking her surprise, Knell looks more closely at him, wondering what she'd missed in his playful demeanor. He wears bright colors and looks more likely to start a dance battle than a fist fight. But some of the plants she'd read about use that same method to lure people into false senses of security. What was it called again? Apossum? Applematism? Opposement? She'll have to look it up again when she gets home. 

For now, she adjusts her view of Kai, tilting her head when she asks, "Kicking whose ass?" 

With their choice made, Knell lifts on her toes to peek through the gaping hole where the vendor sits in the shadows of the flowers. She sees an exchange of hands through the dark, a flash of warm brown eyes, the clink of coins and the tearing of paper. Only when the vendor leans out to hand Kai the bouquets does Knell see her face fully, a pretty woman with curly gray hair sporting a pink flower over her ear. She smiles at Knell, who returns the expression. "Thank you."

The discussion of dessert draws her back, smile brightening with his excitement. Maybe her passion is desserts - although his first suggestion is met with less enthusiasm. Her lips thin as if she can feel the chill against them. "Ice cream is cold." It's not painful, but the cold is an uncomfortable distraction from the sweetness. She'd much rather have something warm, her eyes hopeful when they look up at Kai. "Do you have brownies?" Preferably the gooey kind with lots of chocolate.

Knell

They read it to get to the end.

Used to keep it cool, used to be a fool

His lips flap around the raspberry he blows at the query, his best impression of a horse. "Whoever needs it. In fact, sometimes you have to kick the ass of the very people you love." His eyebrows reach high as he glances down for her reaction at that very mindblowing bit of wisdom. "For instance," he continues, pointer finger held aloft as if conducting the flow of this conversation for them. "I once had to fight my dad because he was letting all the little things that mattered to my mom slip. Anniversary gifts, routine flowers, a moment to eat with her in the morning..." He shakes his head, finger tutting back and forth. "Work had been a lot for him, but he was taking her for granted, and it was wearing on her. But I talked some sense into him." It's been a spar, but he had successfully roundhoused his dad's thigh, so basically the same.

"Then of course there was the Family. Not to be confused with your actual family. This was space Family, and they were mean." He seems to catch himself as the flowers are passed along, and he tilts his head, gaze narrowing with some suspicion. "Has your mom told you about them yet?" Although the list of things Charlie minds seems to be rather short, he doesn't intent to be on the receiving end of any ass kicking from her. He has enough blondes bullying him in his life. It's only one, but the enough part remains true, and Spice definitely seems like a blonde.

Ducking under a stray wing that flaps at the stall they get to next, Kaisel points out the several prepared chicken breasts he'd like to take home. "Oh, right," he says sheepishly as his focus drops back down to her while the meat is packaged. "We could always make ice cream soup." He offers that thought like it isn't the first time he's had it, but at her suggestion of brownies he snaps his fingers with an easy delight. "We have brownie ingredients. We can totes make some."

Kaisel

All about the bounce in my step