The next morning, Clara had cheekily woken her parents up with her quirk.
The skeletal snake slithered into their bedroom and over their sleeping bodies, hissing softly all the while. As the beast's winding shape traveled up Sam's leg, he had jerked awake. His cursing only made his mischievous daughter giggle from her spot by the door.
"Clara! What have we told you about using Ozzy to scare people?" Calliope firmly reminded her daughter as the snake disappeared in a small cloud of dust.
The little girl's face fell as she apologised.
"It's alright, Calli. She was only playing."
Calliope squinted at her husband as he sat up in bed, rubbing at his eyes. She refrained from reminding him that he had been around Clara's age when he had been experimenting with his quirk, which backfired, quite literally, resulted in him gaining an enormous scar across his chest.
Similar to her father's ability to summon a beast-like weapon, that he liked to call a GasterBlaster, from dust, ash and fine debris, little Clara could also summon a skeletal creature to do her bidding. Rather than fire a blast of white hot energy from its jaws however, the bony serpent, that Clara had named Ozzy, could petrify people with its eyes just like Calliope could.
The first time Clara had discovered her quirk was while Calliope was spring cleaning. The snake, who had grown in size over the years at the same rate Clara had, had appeared next to the young girl and almost scared her out of her skin. Calliope had been utterly perplexed at the sight of it, but knew straight away that it must have something to do with her daughter. After explaining to Clara that the creature was her friend and watching as she made the beast obey her every gleeful command, Calliope then broke the news over the phone to her very proud father.
"Ozzy is getting kinda big now though, kiddo. So be careful with him around the house, 'Kay?" Sam told Clara as she crawled into his lap. She nodded quietly and her smile only returned to her once she knew Calliope wasn't mad at her anymore, which was when she sighed and asked her whether she'd like pancakes or cereal for breakfast. Of course, she chose pancakes.
"And are you going to help, mommy?" Calliope asked, slipping her arms into a nightgown.
The little girl nodded enthusiastically and, after kissing her sleepy father on the cheek, bounded into the kitchen where she began to gather the necessary bowls and pans.
A stack of pancakes, blueberries and yogurt later, Russ knocked on the door.
"Good morning, ladies!" He greeted as he and Sam walked into the lounge.
"Ready to go, Clara?" He asked his niece as she hugged him around the waist.
And after brushing her teeth, wiggling into a sundress and sandals, smearing on some sun cream and pulling on a hat, she was.
She kissed both parents and promised to behave as Sam helped her into a jacket.
"I'll bring her back for 5," Russ told them as Clara pulled him towards the door.
"Okay. Well, call us if you need anything!" Calliope called to them as they made their way down the hallway. Although she always appreciated it when Russ looked after her for a day, she couldn't help but worry about her daughter being so exposed with America's number 3 hero. What if a villain chose to attack? What if the public swarmed them? Or both? The thought of any harm coming to her only child made Calliope sick to the stomach.
And when Sam recognised the familiar look of worry that etched itself so clearly across his wife's features, he wrapped a gentle arm around her.
"They'll be fine. They're only going to the beach. We can probably keep an eye on them from our balcony." His words, and the lingering kiss he planted on her shoulder made her relax.
"C'mon. Let's go back to bed. I was having this wonderful dream before Ozzy woke me up..."
Calliope chuckled as he pulled her by the hand back towards their room.
"Oh?" She smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "What about?"
His face pulled into that handsome grin she loved so much. His hair was a mess and, although his eyes looked as tired as ever, they flashed mischievously as his hands lifted her into him.
"Just about this one, beautiful woman I know..."
A roll of the eyes.
"Didn't you have a report to finish?"
A lick of the lips.
"It can wait 10 minutes."
A seductive smile.
"10 minutes? Lucky me."
A grunt of a laugh.
"Heh. Okay, maybe 5."
The squeak of bed springs.
It was a pleasant morning down by the water. At this hour, the beach wasn't too busy which meant Russ could spent time with his niece without being hounded by paparazzi or inconsiderate fans. Though he loved being one of the top pro-heroes, it had many downfalls when it came to family life. The amount of times the Press had suggested he and Calliope were having an affair was exhausting. He was surprised his brother had the patience to simply laugh it off every time.
The waves lapped delightfully against the soft sand underfoot and the sea breeze toyed with the stray strands of Clara's pony tails as she gathered seashells into her dress.
Russ shook his head and grumbled as he watched her. He had told her not to get her dress dirty. But as he saw her drop another sandy cockle shell into the makeshift basket of her skirt, he couldn't find it in him to tell her off. Her smile and laughter every time she found a particularly interesting shell or pebble was just to darn sweet.
Much like her father, Sam, Russ also had a hard time ever getting mad at her. She had them both wrapped around her little finger. Calliope was the stricter parent. Lately, she found herself having to tell he and his brother off too.
"You shouldn't encourage her!" She'd tut when he or Sam would laugh at Clara's cheekiness or daring behaviour.
Not that Clara was a bad kid. But she was undeniably her father's daughter. Like Sam and Russ, she had snowy white hair. But her mischievous grin was so much like Sam's it was uncanny. Her wit, also inherited from her dad, was startling for someone so young. Gaster blood certainly ran through her veins.
But she was a lot like her mother too. Clara moved gracefully and silently. The amount of times she'd almost made him have a heart attack when she jumped out at him was somewhere in the hundreds. Her serpentine eyes, though lacking in her mother's power, were enough to make you weak at the knees. And though she lacked her mother's pretty scales that decorated her body, they both shared the same bronzed skin.
But what made Russ' heart melt the most was the way Clara's forked tongue, a trait Calliope had told them came from Clara's grandma, made her have a slight lisp. Every time she said his name, he couldn't help but smile at the way she hissed the last two letters.
"Uncle Russ!"
There it was. So damn adorable.
"Look at this one! It's so pretty!"
He walked over to her, mentally preparing an explanation to Calliope about how her daughter's brand new summer dress got ruined when he spotted the state of it. Seaweed and sand clung to every crease, frill and fold.
"Oh!" He exclaimed as she held up the shell she'd just found. "That is a nice one!"
Clara beamed at his approval, her abnormally sharp canines glinting in the sun.
"It looks like one of mommy's scales!" She happily pointed out, placing it against her cheek in an imitation of Calliope.
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"
For some reason, Clara's face dropped into a frown. It took Russ by surprise and he immediately followed the child's gaze as it swept past him towards the sea.
"It that lady alright?" Clara asked, a couple of seashells dropping from her skirt as her hold on the makeshift basket slackened.
The lady in question was stood in the water up to her knees. She had rolled her boldly patterned pants right up to her mid thighs. Her bright pink and purple hair danced about her in the wind where it had come loose from its chunky pigtails. The lady was hunched over with her back to them.
Russ equally frowned at the odd sight and approached the water's edge to try and get a clearer view of what she was doing. When she remained hunched over with her hands in the water, he chose to call out to her.
"Excuse me, Miss?"
At first, she simply remained with her back to him. So he tried again, a little louder this time while Clara looked on with bemusement.
"Hello! Miss? Are you okay?"
This time, the woman straightened her spine and turned. Her face housed a slightly dazed look behind the mess of bright hair that had blown into it. She looked towards them and smiled.
"Oh. Hello!" She called back. Russ immediately recognised an accent but couldn't quite place it yet.
"Something wrong?" She asked, wet hands dragging the hair from her eyes.
Russ blinked. She spoke with a slightly airy tone that, when paired with her peculiar choice of clothing and wild hair, made her appear a little loony. He hadn't failed to notice the strange, clearly handmade, necklace of shells around her neck.
"Nothing's wrong, Miss. I, erm, was just asking you that, actually."
"Oh." She replied, still smiling that slightly vacant smile.
"No, no. Nothing's wrong here."
Her voice had a melodic rhythm to it. Irish, perhaps?
This time, it was little Clara who spoke.
"What are you doing?" She called boldly, still holding her skirt full of seashells.
The strange woman's smile grew when her eyes fell upon her.
"Oh! I'm looking for shells just like you!" She replied.
"For your necklace?" Clara added, her eyes bright with curiosity and sunshine.
The stranger nodded then called.
"Well, for a new one, actually!"
It turned out, the woman, who's name was Penelope, was looking for a particular type of shell. And after describing it to Clara, while Russ listened in amusement, turned out to be the very shell the child had found earlier; the one that resembled Calliope's scales.
"You can have it, if you'd like!" Clara offered sweetly, dropping the shell into Penelope's hand. The bright haired woman beamed, her equally colourful eyes in similar shades of pink and purple roaming cheerfully between their faces and the prized shell in her palm.
"Oh! That's so kind of you, Miss Clara!"
The little girl giggled. And when she made a comment on how funny her accent was, Russ called her name accusingly and apologised on her behalf.
"No, it's okay. Lots of people around here find my accent amusing. I'm from Ireland, see."
There it was, that strange, dreamy tone that made her sound like her mind had drifted off elsewhere.
"My daddy says words funny too!" Clara stated, grinning at her own cheekiness. She was referring to her father's notably broad, New York twang that Russ had trained himself to subdue. Unlike Calliope, who found it both amusing and charming, Russ had never liked the accent he and his brother had grown up with, and made it his mission to speak more like his father, Dr Gaster, who's accent leaned more towards the neutral side. After moving away from New York, his brother's accent had only died down slightly and only came back with a vengeance on the rare occasion he got angry or, on the not so rare occasion, when he was trying to charm his wife.
"Oh, I though he sounded quite normal." Penelope commented when she straightened up. She shot Russ a kind smile that almost looked like she was being sympathetic towards his 'normalness.'
"Oh! I'm not her dad." Russ corrected, holding up his hands. "I'm her uncle."
"Uncle Russ is the Great Hero Papyrus!" Clara declared so proudly, bouncing on her toes making her shells fall from her skirt. Her dress was absolutely filthy.
Penelope's already large eyes widened even more.
"Oh! I thought I recognised you!"
Russ returned the bright smile she gave him. Strangely, he felt his heart skip. He passed it off as a lack of food. He usually never skipped breakfast.
"So your daddy is Sam Gaster. And your mommy is Calliope? And your grandad is Dr W.D Gaster? Oh my..." Her eyes slipped slightly out of focus, the vacant smile, however, remained. "What a famous family you have."
Clara grinned proudly while Russ pondered her words. Indeed, it was quite the collection of famous names. His currently being the most famous of all. He suddenly felt rather self-conscious.
Usually, Russ thrived off the popularity his star-studded family brought. But for some reason, as he watched peculiar Penelope ponder his position, he was reminded at how odd it must be for others to imagine.
"Well, it was lovely to meet you, Mr Papyrus and Miss Gaster!" Penelope called.
And before Russ could tell her to call him by his real name, not his hero name, she had already began to make her way back up the beach, the seashell Clara had given her clutched tightly in her fist.