velesdonnersen | Morning, Aftermath of Revival/January Event.

[ She's still a little skittish, but for the most part she's back to normal.

Ilsa is luxuriating in a light doze that she had not been able to afford a week ago.

Still, it's not so deep that she is not instantly awake and suddenly balancing on the back of the sofa, hands glowing, when something twines around her ankle. ]

TARVEKGETUPTHEREISASNAKEINTHEBED.

[He's trained and practiced, too: Smoke Knight, at least on a low level of skill. He's out of bed, with a steel edged ruler in his hand like a saber, studying the bed through slit, hostile eyes.]

Stay back. I'm ready for it.

[He watches, then frowns. The blankets are humping and lumping on their own, and a pitiful little trumpetty grumble is heard. He gingerly, uncertainly uses the ruler to flip back the blankets.]

[There, looking soulfully up at them, trunk curled in tight in worried fashion, fuzzy little ears fanning the air, is a maximimmoth, its ginger hair soft and fuzzy in the sunlight seeping past the office curtains.]

Sweet lightening. It's...

[He melts to the bed, smiling besottedly down at the critter.]

Awww... Florin!

Ilsa, it's FLORIN!

Edited 2012-02-11 04:01 (UTC)

[ The glow dissipates from her hands, and she gingerly steps down onto the bed. ]

Someone form home, then?

[ Settling, but still balanced to jump if needed, Ilsa watches the two of them. ]

[A boy and his maximimmoth. What could be happier? Tarvek begins a blissful, tender round of skritchies and tickles and trunk-tugging, causing enraptured snorks, honks and bleeps to emerge from the tubby little fellow. Florin is about the size of a modest cocker spaniel, and about as blatantly friendly.]

Yeah. I made him. Well...I made his ancestor, and bred his line. He's a maximimmoth. I left him with townsfolk in Sturmhalten when...

When...things got...bad.

[His eyes darken for a moment, then turn soft again as he enjoys his buddy.]

I didn't think I'd ever see him again. Even before I came to Mayfield, I thought I'd lost him.

[Smiles at Ilsa.] Want to meet him? He likes being rubbed behind his ears.

[ Still cautious, as with any new animal, she holds out her hand, fingers curled under. ]

You made a companion pet.

[ A light hand on his shoulder, comforting, Ilsa hears more in the four words than he probably intended. ]

[Florin is a curious beastie, and he smells food and happy-daddy on Ilsa. He considers this promising. She's so polite, too! The little trunk, with the damp, pink ending that folds onto itself like a pair of grasping fingers, explores her hand. After a few snuffles it grips her thumb, firmly, and pulls her whole hand over to rub its neck and behind the flappy fan ears.]

[Tarvek chuckles, letting Ilsa's free hand remain on his shoulder. It does comfort him...though he's mainly enjoying watching Florin interact with Ilsa.]

He likes you.

[ She giggles softly, following the creature's directives, and getting a feel for his aura. ]

Now that I know he's supposed to be here, I like him too.

[ She glances at the clock, and sighs. ]

Time for me to "show up to visit" too early, again.

[ With a final skritch behind the ears for Florin, she kisses Tarvek on the cheek before climbing out of the bed. ]

[Tarvek lets her get up and get herself put together, staying in bed as he skritches Florin. It's shaping up to be a good day.]

I should get the house ready for him. Pet-proof the place, get the back yard secured. Set up the dog house so he's got somewhere to stay. Put together a trap door so he can let himself into the tunnels. Get him some toys, and some good hay, grain and fruits. Buy him a collar and a harness and a leash.

[It's clear he will go on, and will keep thinking even as Ilsa lets herself out so she can knock at the front door.]

As if you'd let him stay one night outside.

[ She gives Tarvek a quick kiss on the forehead before she slips out of the house. ]

[He is shocked, SHOCKED, I say! He blusters and chuffs as he gets himself dressed, and then he goes to meet her at the door when she knocks, already in mid-rantlet.]

Leave Florin outside? Over night? Alone?!

No! Don't be silly. That's why he's got to have the trap door to the tunnels. That way if he wants to stay out to play and then come in, he always can.

Good heavens. The doghouse is just a gazebo for pets, isn't it?

Tch, you might be surprised at what some considered appropriate for pets.

[ She heads for the kitchen, restraining herself from cooking. This isn't her place, and the drone gets snippy with her for arriving so early. The subterfuge is just enough to keep up appearances, which is all that matters for the drones. ]

Now, we are going to have to let someone [ she ruffles the maximimmoth's ears, playfully ] know there are certain limits, like staying away from paperwork, hm?

[Looks vaguely guilty.]

Um...

[The truth is he's a complete mush-bucket with the pets. His own life is so disciplined and so fraught with limits that he tends to put few on his pets...]

I...

Maybe you can help?

Well, you can't really train cats, and Miss Nao wasn't really a cat, but I think I remember some of the basics.

[ She raises an eyebrow at Tarvek. ]

One of which is making sure someone is housebroken. Should Florin be walked, or does he need a box?

Um..

It was a big palace. I sort of taught him to use a pile of hay in the corner.

So, we either need to retrain him for outside, or get him a corner box, like a ferret.

[ She's watching Florin as he wanders the kitchen. ]

It would be easier if one of us had speech of him, but that one's in Nadine's skill set.

[Amazed and fascinated.]

Your sister can talk with animals?

[He's learned modern idioms here, and Quin's been a bad influence.]

Cooooool!

Hmm. All right. We'll start with corner boxes, and add in a corner box outside, to help give him the idea.

[ She shrugs off the reaction to her sister's ability with a smile, ] She's sometimes said it's a good thing she has to concentrate to hear them, because some of them will not be quiet.

You might have to get used to the drones calling him a dog.

[ She chuckles. ]

Specifically YOUR dog, if he gets into something he shouldn't, or makes a mess.

[Snorts.] Drones. What can you do? It's not their fault they're stuck with basic programs and nothing more.

[He leans over and picks up Florian, and hugs him. Suddenly his eyes are bashful, and he looks even younger than he really is.]

They're right about one thing, though. He's mine. Isn't he?

[She can hear the faint trace of uncertainty, as though he's never been quite sure whether he'll manage to hold on to what he has...or keep who he loves. Then Florian wriggles and starts searching Tarvek's shirt pockets, apparently looking for treats.]

Erk. Raisins. He wants raisins. I'll have to see if Not!Betty has raisins...

Fruits are easy enough to get here - it's the hay I'd be worried about.

[ It took decades to build that uncertainty into his makeup, and Ilsa sighs inwardly that it will take more than just a few months to turn that around. ]

This one's an easy solve. He's small: lawn clippings, greens from the grocery store, carrots and other root vegetables, and rolled oats ought to provide a good start.

I wonder if I can teach him to use cat litter?

[He's grabbing up a pitcher of orange juice from the refrigerator, dumping muffins into a bread basket, and tucking in butter and honey. When finished he smiles at Ilsa, whistles for Florian, and heads out the door into the back yard.]

[ Ilsa sighs, glad that she had warm clothes for today. Another reminder, she spoke up as they were in the back yard, watching Florin wuffle through the snow. ]

You know more how devious or curious he's likely to be, but I'll help you secure the house this weekend. Then we can get back to finishing your lair.

[ She nudges him playfully. ] Gonna need the closet space, the way you keep making clothes for me.

Look! He's making a snow-burrow!

He's pretty curious. Capable of devious, too.

[Smiles, fondly.]

A lair. Lord, I miss having a lair.

You can have all the closet space you like, leibchen. It will just encourage me to design more clothes for you.

[ Ilsa leans against him, aware of the drones inside beginning to stir. ]

You need your own work-spaces, out of the traffic patterns. Having everything in the garage means the drones can get into everything.

The tunnels should be done in the spring. [ She smiles. ] The closet in the corner of your basement bedroom is just the icing.

[He smiles. The truth is that living in Mayfield keeps stretching his understanding of the world. Having a place of his own, for example: in Sturmhalten he had rooms in the palace, but the palace wasn't "his," and never would have been in many ways: it belonged to the family for posterity. A job? He would have had position, and rank, and hard work that needed doing, but he would never have had the fascinating luxury of going to a day job, coming home in the evening, and just...being free. No duties, no life-long oblications, no plots, no schemes, no way to "take over the world." Not even a clear way to "show them all."]

[He slips his arm around Ilsa, and smiles.]

You'll have to help me plan it, schatzi.

[Suddenly he shivers, not in fear or stress, but with blinding contentment. The best of both worlds is possible.]

Oh. I can decorate it like the palace back home. Roi d'Orage era furniture, tapestries, paneling... I'll get a poster bed with brocade curtains.

You're going to like this, love. I'll drown you in luxury...

Definitely will make is easier to figure out where we are when I wake up. [ Using a teasing tone, ] I didn't realize you didn't' care for the modernist theme.

Morning, Aftermath of Revival/January Event.

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