The usual act of his grumbling, then rolling over, was done after his alarm went off at the set time of eight o'clock. After letting the thoughts and mental images of dreams now past run through his mind, he reached his arm over to silence the offending thing that dared to arouse him from a sound slumber. While he wasn't rough with his clock—far from it, actually—, he did flip it over backwards. He cursed when this happened then went to right it.

The clock, that was on his rustic, pallet wood bedside table, was a nifty piece. He had liked it enough to ask for it; he was still fond of it. After righting the clock, which was both skull-themed and had molded resin details and a faux-wooden finish that gave it a real-life, aged oak appearance, he set to work in silencing it. The clock had a hinge on its back; in order for him to turn it off, he had to flip its top part up. The clock's face, which had roman numerals on it, was only seen for a second before the top was dropped. Once the little button was pressed, and the clock was silenced, he dropped back to his bed.

"And so, the fifth day of the month of May starts." Bile said three minutes later, after finally deciding to sit up then rub the sleep from his eyes.

He did as he usually did each morning next. Once he was out of bed, he went to the rustic, mountain pine dresser, that had four drawers on it. He took a pair of boxers, then a pair of brown socks, from the top drawer; after sliding that drawer shut, he went to the next one down for a shirt. After the red shirt, that had a single tear in its chest, and was lacking one of its sleeves, was removed, he slid the drawer shut then went to take a pair of pants from the one below it. The second the pair of dark brown pants were removed from his dresser, and the drawer that he got them from was slid shut, he set to work in dressing himself.

He donned three of the four clothing articles that he removed from the dresser then tossed the pair of socks on his bed. Once his socks were on his bed, he left his room.

"Eshal and the Bros must of overslept, or are being slow this morning." he thought after leaving his room, then going to where the upstairs bathroom was.

Due to there being no one in the hallway, no fights over who got to use the bathroom first happened. When he entered the bathroom, he had it all to himself. He used the toilet, washed his face, brushed his teeth, then left the room. He went back to his bedroom after leaving the bathroom. The closet, that was to the left of his room, was where he went next. He grabbed the pair of rugged, red-brown leather boots—the ones that he got from his mother last year, on Christmas—then went to his bed. His socks, then his boots, were slid on then he made his bed. With his bed made, he turned then left his room for the second time that morning.

"Bile," Eshal, his adoptive sister, said.

It looked like his assumption of at least one of his siblings being either slow in getting up, or oversleeping that morning, was correct. His sister, while being dressed for the day, was walking around in a half-daze. He said hello to her then went down the hall; his sister went into the bathroom. Instead of doing as he usually did each morning, which was go down to say hello and good morning to his mama, he made a side trip to see the second of his adoptive siblings.

As of the last two weeks and four days, this side trip of his had become a new usual in his morning routine. With his adoptive father and sister in the building, causing all matter of daily routine "disruptions", he had made a point to either check-in on Guyunis soon after waking up or sticking around home. Guyunis had come close to both having a heart attack and shitting his pants on the seventeenth of April; with most of the whole of their family being in the house, yelling and cursing and throwing their misconceptions on or about him around, he had just not had a good day at all—which was rather ironic, since he was having a grand day before their sudden appearance occurred. He hadn't slept a wink in the four days that followed that day... and the reason for that was quite clear. With most of the whole of their family being in the building, trying to get their mother to drop him like a bad cold, and with his adoptive father and sister moving in, he was a nervous wreck.

It took Guyunis all of a week to calm down, and to not be but so nervous. Having their mother around had helped in downing his anxiety levels, so had having either he or Lhaklar around to keep him company. Lazeer was sick with the flu at the time, so he wasn't able to aid in bringing Guyunis's anxiety levels down, and Hazaar was dealing with both his cold and his own anxiety demons, so he wasn't able to help either. The chore of calming Guyunis down had fallen mostly on his mother's, his, and Lhaklar's shoulders; even though Guyunis was returning to being like his old, normal self, something happened four days ago to cause him to do a "mild" regression. The process of Guyunis making a return to normal life was stopped after his adoptive father was discovered as rooming with their mother.

The meal, on the first of the month, was nice, and Guyunis was able to forget about his nervousness and about his father and sister being in the house. The Inside Out German cake, that their mother brought home, had caused him to further forget about them two things. Guyunis had started acting like his old, former self after the meal was consumed; they were overjoyed over the sudden change that happened with him. That overjoyed mood had come to a crash-halt about two hours later, after Guyunis, who only wanted to say goodnight to their mother, walked into their mother's bedroom to find not just their mother getting ready for bed but also their father.

Guyunis had come close to leaping through the roof after seeing the man in the room that was beside his own. Their mother was quick in escorting him from her room; she spent all of thirty minutes with him afterwards. Really, none of them needed to ask if he was nervous over having the "terribly spooky alien-man" sleeping in the room that was beside his. Guyunis had worn plenty of bags under his eyes the morning following the discovery of the old man being in their mother's bedroom; them bags had remained under his brother's eyes the two mornings that followed. Guyunis had reverted to being a nervous wreck again, sadly but surely.

"Took all of five days after dad and Eshal moved in before the curiosity bug started nipping him," he thought as he gave Guyunis's bedroom door two, light raps. "Guyunis started peekin' his head out of his room, then down the hall at Eshal's, five days in."

"Who is i-k-t?" Guyunis's low, strong, nasally-sounding voice called from the other side of the door.

"The Pizza Man," he replied. His deep, strong, and powerful voice was very normal when he spoke.

"Pizza Man? Who the hell's tha-k-t?" from what he could tell, Guyunis was behind the door. He couldn't help but smile then play in on a little Early Morning Brother Joking.

"Pizza The Hutt's mean-ass cousin." he returned. "Instead of being made of pepperoni and cheese, I'm made of syrup, grass, and anchovies."

"Gross!" the sound of the door's lock being turned was heard. He grabbed the door knob; automatic shock settled over him when he realized that the door was just locked on him. "Go away, Pizza Man! No admission!"

"Fine with me, I can always anchovy-bomb the door in." he snickered as he jingled the door's knob.

So far, he was liking what he was hearing. Guyunis was reciprocating his playfulness; he wasn't acting mopish or shy, and he didn't sound nervous either. He jingled the door's knob twice, then mock-banged his shoulder into it, then spun out a few "taunts" on how the "Pizza Man" was going to send his minions of anchovies under its crack—his fingers came to be "stepped" on when he followed through with that "taunt" a few seconds later. Guyunis laughed evilly after he mock-banged his shoulder into the door again then, like that, the door was unlocked and then swung open. Guyunis practically charged from his room a half-second later.

"Pizza Man, eh? I see no Pizza Man," Guyunis said after grabbing and then putting him in a mild head-lock. "I see my oldest bruder."

"Yeah, well, I see a brother of mine getting a noogie."

It was really no contest—while Guyunis was close to being his size, he was stronger and quicker. He got himself free from his brother's grip then grabbed him around the shoulders. Two rounds of ten second noogies followed; Guyunis, though trying his best to get out from under his grip, wasn't allowed to escape. It was obviously that Guyunis hadn't yet visited the bathroom—his noogies made his already messed up hair look even messier.

"Woops! So sorry, Bro. Made you go from having a normal Bad Hair Day to having an even worse one." Bile laughed. Guyunis shook his head, then slowly got up from the floor that he found himself on.

"When mum asks who pu-k-t the extra-big Hams-k-ter in the bathroom sink, I'm pinning-k the blame on you." Guyunis said. He went to his room, disappeared for only a second, then returned to the hallway. He was fast in closing the door after leaving the room.

"Nah, it won't me. It was the one-armed man. T'was he who put that extra-big Hamster in the bathroom sink." Bile sang.

She was just coming from the bathroom when Guyunis, the boy who, at one time, was thought of as a dangerous man who was hell-bent on hurting her baby brothers, started heading down the hall. Guyunis, who's hair was a horrible mess, stopped on a dime after seeing her; he stood, motionless, for all of five seconds before turning then heading away from her. The boy, who, just recently, she discovered as being a brother of hers, went down the stairs then disappeared. She stood where she was for a few seconds before going down the hall; towards Bile, the brother who she was such a pest to at one time in the past.

"How long have you known him?" she asked after reaching her brother's side.

"For a while now—since I was five hundred and seventy-three." Bile replied.

"Has he always been like this? So... shy, or nervous?"

"He's not really of the shy type. With all of what he's gone through, he's more wary than shy." Bile answered.

"He'll come out of it, right?" Eshal asked.

"Y—" Bile started to answer. His mother's voice suddenly overshadowed his own; he clamped his mouth shut after hearing her.

"Give him a while, Eshal. It won't take but so long for him to get use to you."

Guyunis, clad in his usual chains, a pair of light brown cargo shorts, that were pretty much destroyed from the knees on down, and a pair of well-worn, steel-toed, waterproof logger boots, came down to use the downstairs bathroom right when she was about to give the call about breakfast being ready. She was quick in figuring that either her husband or Eshal was leaving the upstairs bathroom and about Guyunis not wanting to use that bathroom because of one or the other of them being in close proximity to him. After she saw her son go into the bathroom, she went to see if any "talks" were going on about him. While she was perfectly fine in having Bile discuss certain thing that recently happened in Guyunis's history with his sister, she would much prefer for him to not go but so much in detail about what all Guyunis had gone through before she finally put her foot down in wanting to adopt him.

Her adopted son was born on June 27, 2000; his mother, Lisa Ann Walhberg, had tried all throughout her pregnancy to get rid of him. While being successful in going to the abortion clinics, and then filling out the forms that she was required to do, Lisa wasn't successful in having him expelled from her. Lisa ran out of each of the abortion clinics that she went to just seconds before being called in for the procedure to be done. Lisa didn't want anything to do with her only son and child; after giving birth, she gave the order that he be taken from her. The older of the two midwives, that were there to tend her, was only able to get her to milk herself so her son could get the colostrum that he needed to stay healthy; no attempt on her part could get Lisa to accept him. Guyunis was no more than six hours old when he was admitted to the adoption agency that handled his adoptions.

While she knew a lot about her son, she was sadly clueless on how he was towards one of alien origins. She knew that the treatment that he received from the families that took him "on" as a "child" of theirs was the root cause of why he was so wary of others. The people who adopted him hadn't treated him right at all; they either abused, or neglected, or used him as a sort of servant or slave. She was damn intent on her and her family being the last stop for him; no more adoptions would happen. No more "hand-off's", and no more pain, or further abuse, would happen. Guyunis, who had spent most of his life being treated like scum, was now to have the life that he should of had from the start.

"Tazir seemed to be understanding towards my reason in wanting to stay here." she thought.

While he tried to convince her to leave, he didn't do any crying, bitching, complaining, or accusing about having to stay. He just nodded his head then went to collect his things, and Eshal.

She wasn't really sure about how Eshal felt about the situation, which was why she was being a bit rude in interrupting Bile during his conversation with his sister. Eshal, who was another adopted child of hers, knew nothing about Guyunis. She didn't want Bile to say something that was incorrect about Guyunis and she didn't want Bile, or any of her other sons, to confuse her either. If Eshal was to learn about Guyunis, she'd much prefer for her to come to her instead of to one of her brothers.

"Morning mam," Eshal, who had always called her mother mam, mamma, or mammy, said after seeing her mother standing by the landing of the stairs. "Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Eshal. Slept very well, hope your sleep went well." Angel said.

"Only half-so." Eshal, who's face suddenly became cloudy, replied. "I kept hearing these... high-piercing calls last night. Couldn't sleep because of them. They were right creepy."

"High-piercing calls?" Angel looked at Bile, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, they seemed to be coming from the walls."

Along with being up for a little over fifteen minutes, her routine was done quickly. After using the bathroom, then getting dressed, she went down to make breakfast. Tazir, who was sleeping with her for the last four nights, had also mentioned hearing a "high-piercing call" last night—after coming downstairs, he asked her if she heard them; she was frank in shaking her head. No, she was sound asleep last night. No high-piercing calls were heard by her.

Even though she knew what it was that was making the calls, and where they were coming from, she didn't say a word about them. Tazir, and Eshal, would have to find out about them on their own.

"Bile, do me a favor in seeing if your brothers are up. Breakfast in five." Angel said before turning then going down the stairs.

"You didn't hear them?" Eshal asked Bile after their mother returned to the house's first level.

"Once my head hit the pillow, I was out." Bile answered.

"Lhaklar and Lazeer were kidding around about the house having mice in it, right?" Eshal asked.

"The only "rodents" that live here are the scrubs that I call my brothers." Bile replied, then started making his rounds in knocking on Hazaar's, Lhaklar's, and then Lazeer's bedroom doors. "Hey in there! Anyone up? Ma says breakfast in five and I do believe she meant five minutes and not hours!"

Ubeknown to Guyunis, he was in close proximity to him when he came out to rough house with Bile. After asking his wife if she heard the high-piercing calls, then telling her good morning, then giving her a kiss, he returned to the room that he slept in for the last four nights to simply... well... eavesdrop on the kids. He had wanted to see how they went by their morning routines; from what he could tell, Bile's morning routine was very normal. A small use of his Telepathic abilities was done just after his adopted son's alarm went off. Bile remained in bed for around three or so minutes before getting up, getting dressed, then going to use the bathroom. His use of his Telepathic abilities had stopped there—what one did in the bathroom was his/her and only his/her business.

He was quite confused over Lhaklar's, Hazaar's, and Lazeer's morning routines. They did nearly the same as Bile after their alarms went off; while they got up from bed, then got dressed, they didn't go off to use the bathroom. They just milled around in their rooms... doing odd and end things that he wasn't able to detect with his small usage of his Telepathy. While tempted to use a stronger form of his Telepathy to see what they were doing, he didn't do so. Instead of barging further in on them with his Telepathy, he gave them some privacy.

He already knew what Eshal did in her morning routines, so he didn't use his Telepathic skills to see what she was doing. With Guyunis being as nervous as he was, he plain decided to leave him be—how was the kid to start trusting him if he knew of his using his Telepathy to see what did in a room that he either slept or spent a good chunk of his time in? He didn't see his use of his Telepathic skills on his sons as wrong. He wasn't looking in on them in a wrong way. He was just curious over what they did after waking. And, besides, they wouldn't be finding out about his use of his Telepathic skills anyways. He wouldn't be spilling this one morning's use of his Telepathic skills to anyone and he had no plans in using his Telepathy to spy on the kids when they're in the house again.

"Well, it's about time that you decided to move yourself into my abode." his wife said after finding him walking around the room that Hazaar directed him towards.

Upon entering the room, he found himself corrected on the house having all-red carpet in it. One look was enough to tell him that it was just the living room, stairs, and hallways that had red carpet on them. While the make of the room's carpet was the same as the rest of the house's, the color was darker. Instead of it being plain red, it was dark red.

The carpet wasn't the only surprise that he received. He had expected for the room to be a normal, parent's room—complete with a half dozen or so luxury items thrown in to make it seem more lived-in. He had found himself as giving the room a double once-over after walking in; it was the exact opposite of what he expected. Instead of the normal, parent's room that he envisioned, he walked in on what he called a plain, simple room—while there were luxury items in it, they weren't what he envisioned.

In his figuring, the room that he and his wife had on Moas was more on the comfortable, luxurious side—with more than a dozen specialty items thrown in to give it that lived-in feeling. A normal, parent's room was a step below that—it was the type of room that one who had a peasant background, who couldn't afford but so much, and who was also trying to be as normal and as mature as could be, would have. The room that he found himself sleeping in was a step below that; it was, in comparison to his and his wife's bedroom chamber on Moas, quite boring.

Angel called the room that he was currently standing in the middle of the Master Bedroom. While it was big, and resembled that type of room, it didn't boast the items that he considered a normal master's bedroom would have in it. The frame of the bed, that he kept his wife company in for the last four nights, had a real oak finish to it that was a dark brown color. A small, medium-brown oak bedside table was to its left. A large waisted ceramic lamp and a basic, two-belled alarm clock sat on the table's surface. A medium-brown oak dresser was to the left of the room; a 30" flat screen tv was mounted on the wall above it. He had made the decision to use the dresser's fourth and fifth drawers for his pants and shirts—most curiously, them two drawers were found as being empty. He and his wife were sharing the dresser's top drawer—her feminine undergarments and socks were to one side of the drawer while his undergarments, ties, and socks were on the other.

The four-shelf, red-brown oak bookcase, that was beside the room's walk-in closet, had a few items on it—mostly framed photographs of her and the boys. There were a few, small potted plants, a few cookbooks, a few discs of music, and a knitting kit that had all the fixings on the bookcase too. A set of plain, dark blue curtains hung from the rod of the room's window. That was really it on the furniture that was in the room; just the basic, plain items. He would be a liar if he went around saying that he hadn't checked to see if the spare room and the master bedroom weren't switched—after placing his suitcase down, he went to the spare room, then saw that it was where it was suppose to be, then returned to the "master bedroom". Angel had chuckled after he asked if the room that he was told was hers was really the master bedroom; before going downstairs, she gave him a kiss on the cheek then said that it was.

"There's a few things in here that have good purpose, and that I like." he thought.

The jewelry box, that was on the dresser, was one of them purpose-filled items. Along with having an antique walnut finish, and a white leather interior, it looked like it needed to be expanded—its jewelry was either all jumbled up or fighting for space. The room's next purpose-filled item was in the closet, which he only entered to hang his week-supply of tuxedo jackets and vests in. The 10-pocket hanging shoe organizer was half-full, so his wife might need a new one soon. While he was in the closet, he also found a few, nice dresses, a top-quality, feminine jacket, and two purses in it.

That was really it on the room's luxury items. He had felt a sort of pity and anger rise in him after seeing the room; it sadly looked like his wife had allowed herself to drop in standards.

"While she's never been of the over-affluent type, she was living a lot more elegantly when she was residing on Moas. Bet that, once I have her on Moas again, she'll return to that way of living and fast." he thought as he turned to look at the room's full-sized bed.

The bed's bed set was the item that he liked. Along with being Champagne-colored, it was ruffled and rosetted. His wife had called it a romance bed set; he came close to snickering after hearing her call it that. The bed's pillows—a throw, a neck roll, and two shams—matched it perfectly. He made one, crude joke on the bedding that was on the bed—he said that he'd find himself caught and fast on night one; his wife had laughed and then said for him to keep anything that was "an extra appendage" well contained so that wouldn't happen.

"With the exception of Guyunis, who reverted to being quiet and nervous while being around my daughter and I, and Hazaar, who seems to be the type of person who's quiet and to-himself during the morning hours, all of the boys were quite vocal on the mornings that followed my nightly residency in their mother's room."

Bile would always start off the joking. He'd say something on how he heard the walls of the room beside his rattling, then Lazeer would chime in by saying how he heard "moaning" and "screaming" during the night, then Lhaklar would come in by saying how he "felt" a vibration going on with the floor. Eshal would agree with Lhaklar on the upstairs floor "phantom" vibrations then she'd say something around the area of hearing bed springs creaking. He and his wife took the jokes for all of fifteen minutes before silencing them; they'd say that nothing happened during the alleged noise-making—which was true—then they'd insist on something else being spoken of.

It wouldn't surprise anyone, though, to learn that he did give it a good consideration about turning around and then engaging the lovely woman in the age-old act of intercourse. In all the years that she and the boys were missing, he hadn't gone out to find someone to take his sexual frustrations out on or to just "get a taste". While having her sleeping in the same bed as he was nice, and while having her soothing, resting presence so close to him during the night hours was also nice, it was also quite hard to not tap into the side of him that wanted to indulge in the act that he was forced to abandon for so long.

"That part of married life will resume itself after you've gained a better foot-hold in your relationship with Angel and the boys." he kept telling himself.

With his curiosity over what his sons did in their morning routines satiated, he left the room that he was holding himself down in then went downstairs. His young came down soon after he did, and just before the allotted five minutes that their mother said breakfast would be ready. Guyunis, he discovered, was all huddled up against Angel—even though the boy's freak-out moment came close to causing him to return to his prior sleeping arrangements, he didn't grab his suitcase or put the things that he put in his wife's dresser or closet back in it or go back to sleeping on the couch. While coming close to doing them things, the adult side of him had just plain said for him to not do so—like with his getting use to him and his daughter being in the house, Guyunis also had to learn how to get use to him and his daughter being close to him. Guyunis couldn't do the tip-toe routine forever and he couldn't go around being nervous or wary of him or his daughter forever either; if he was to be moved to Moas, and then reside with him and his family in his mansion, he had to get use to him... and Eshal, of course.

"Eshal. Boys." he said after his children reached the dining room.

"Dad," it was a surprise but Lhaklar sounded very tired.

"Mmmm," Hazaar nodded his head, then sat in his chair.

"Hey," Lazeer, who seemed a little less peppy that morning, mumbled.

"Mornin'," Bile, who seemed the more lively of the five boys, said.

"Morning, daddy." Eshal, who seemed to be fully awake, said.

His daughter did her usual in walking over to give him a hug. Once his hug was given, she went to the chair that she was taking her meals in for the last two and a half weeks. The only one of the five boys who said nothing to him was Guyunis; he remained very tight-lipped where he was. He took his place at the table then waited for his wife and Guyunis to come over. While waiting, he looked at the oldest of his biological sons.

"I take it that them calls kept you up too?" he said after seeing how haggard Lhaklar's face was, and after seeing that his son had dark green rings around his eyes.

"What calls?" his son asked.

"The high-piercing ones." he said.

"You heard them too!" Eshal exclaimed.

"Yes," since his daughter didn't know that he was on the level that she was on when she spoke of the calls to her mother, he kept his ruse of not knowing that she spoke of them. "I heard them quite loudly and quite clearly."

"They were right creepy, dad." Eshal said. "I don't know what's creepier—the cat sounds that I keep hearing from the room that's across the hall then three down from my own or the high-piercing ones that I heard last night."

"One of the native frogs must of decided to play their love-making notes last night." Bile said.

"Sounded like there was more than one involved in the making of them calls, son." TazirVile said.

"More than one involv... gee, dad, thanks for admitting who made them calls." Bile chuckled.

Either the joke over what all he and his wife didn't do but that the children claimed that they heard them doing during the night hours had run its course, had gotten stale, or no one was interested in being funny that morning. He placed his hand on Lhaklar's shoulder then told him that, if he was that tired, it was okay for him to skip out on breakfast. Lhaklar shook his head then got up from his chair. He watched as his son went to the kitchen, then as he took a mug from one of the cabinets. What he saw him doing next shocked the shoes from his feet.

He was nearing the age of adulthood when he decided to pick up and then try the stuff that his father drank each morning. His father's coffee, he was quick to note, had a horrid taste to it—he also found that he liked it hot. The insides of his mouth, and his tongue, came close to being burned after he took one swig from his father's coffee mug. While he preferred the softer, creamier types of coffee, his father preferred coffee that not only had a plastic taste to it but also tasted rather burnt. One swig of his father's coffee had sent him reeling... his father, being the tough old hard-ass that he was, had done nothing but laugh at him.

Lhaklar poured himself a cup of coffee, then added a dash of what he hoped was creamer and sugar to it, then returned to the table. The oldest of his biological sons stirred the cup's mixture a few times then took a swig; he was so shocked over this that he came close to forgetting that he had a few things on him that he wanted to return to him.

"Think you left a few things behind when you were in my ship last year, Lhaklar." TazirVile said as he reached into his dark green tuxedo jacket.

All of what he had in his inside jacket pocket was returned to his son. The set of keys, which, he presumed, went to the house; the brown leather wallet, that had dark red stitching on it; and the pocketknife, that had a medium redwood handle, that housed a four inch long, stainless steel blade, were placed on the table. With having them items out of his possession, he returned his hand to his pocket then removed the final item that was in it. The envelope, that contained a substantial amount of cash, and one identification card, was given to his son; once this was done, he stood up.

From his back left pants pocket he removed a silver-aluminum cigarette case. Along with having a red velvet interior, and a spring on its inside, and being four inches long by three and a half inches wide, it had an etching of a bull deer jumping over a fallen log on its front. He gave this to his son then sat down. His son, as expected, inspected the returned case immediately after having it returned to him—upon discovering it in his ship, he searched it then found that it contained six, black-papered cigarettes; he discarded all of them, so his son wouldn't find a single one in it.

All of the items that he returned to his son came to be in his possession after Lhaklar was rescued from his nephew's evil clutches. On the eighth of November, his two, younger half-brothers came upon Vile beating his son to a pulp—if not for Efagti and Amadh coming upon his son when they did, he and his wife might of lost a child. Lhaklar actually stopped breathing after his brothers came upon what they did; by Amadh's actions, he started breathing again—he stopped breathing twice but, on the second loss of his breath, he regained it without needing help. His ship's medical table managed to fix most of the injuries that his son received on that day; after Lhaklar was removed from the table, then put in one of his ship's rooms, then given a mind sedative to keep him sleeping, he started searching through the pockets of his pants. After finding what he did, he confiscated it then put it away for safe-keeping.

With the exception of the cigarettes, and the wallet's fake I.D. and driver's license, all of what he found on that day was returned to its owner.

"Thanks," a still-sleepy and tired Lhaklar said. He opened the envelope then counted the money that was in it; the sigh over finding all €188.85, that was in his wallet when he was attacked by his mother's father last year, was barely sustained. He placed the money, and the one identification card, in one of the pockets of his green striped, formal pants then resumed the drinking of his coffee.

"No problem." TazirVile said.

He went upstairs for just a second then, when he returned, he had a few things in his hands that were once owned by Hazaar. Like Lhaklar, Hazaar had left something behind in his ship; unlike his brother, who left his just-returned items in his ship on the eighth of November, Hazaar left his items behind on the seventeenth of April.

A red-brown leather wallet, that's front flap had a head and back crocodile pattern on it; a small pocketknife, that had a golden dragon handle, that had a can opener on it that was fashioned to look like a pair of wings, which housed a four inch long, stainless steel blade; a set of keys; a three-inch long strand of braided hair; and two rolls of coins were returned to his son. Hazaar mumbled his thanks then pocketed each item that was given to him.

Like Lhaklar, Hazaar came to be apprehended by him after he had a malicious encounter with Vile. Amadh, the second oldest of his mother and stepfather's sons, had come upon his nephew trying to do the same to him as he had with Lhaklar. Amadh did as much as he could to help his son get away from Vile; in the end, his stepfather, Cheshire Keueitt Ubalki, had to brought in—Amadh was beaten and injured, and he was also at his limit. His stepfather's involvement had to be done to ensure that what his nephew was trying to do wouldn't happen. His secondborn son had spent all of three hours in his ship before escaping; he, Cheshire, and two of his staff had tracked him to this very residence soon he escaped.

With the exception of the unopened pack of cigarettes, and the few sticks of some substance called GUM, all of what he found in his son's pants pockets were returned to him. While he had the GUM sticks on him, he didn't want to hand them over just yet. He wanted to be sure on what they were before giving them back to the one that he found them on—neither he nor any of his staff knew what they were; he didn't want to give his son something that was found on his person until after he was sure that it was safe for him. For all he knew, the sticks of GUM could be drugs.

"What's GUM?" he asked after sitting in his designated chair.

"A soft, cohesive substance designed for chewing but not swallowing." Lhaklar answered sleepily. "It's made from butadiene-based synthetic rubber. Most chewing gums are considered polymers."

"For those who are fully awake, it's nothing more than candy." Bile said.

For the record, he was both awake and knew what Lhaklar said. A polymer was a large molecule, or macromolecule, composed of many repeated subunits. Because of their broad range of properties, both synthetic and natural polymers play an essential and ubiquitous role in everyday life. Polymers that were consumed were said to enhance memory, cut down on plaque and reduce cavities, reduce the chance of having bad breath, and reduce the chance of getting stomach ulcers and/or Gastroesophageal reflux disease; if what his son said was true, then he was all for Hazaar having and then... chewing the substance that he was currently returning to him. He was making his way back to his chair when his wife, and Guyunis, came towards the table.

"You know the drill now. Make a neat line before the stove; no fighting while getting your breakfast, please." Angel said after sitting in the chair that she frequently sat in when she ate her meals.

Unless Angel made the decision to make and then give everyone a plate, everyone made their plates on their own. He had found himself as being phenomenally surprised over this; normally, the mother of the household would make the plates for everyone—it was very apparent that his wife was no ordinary mother. He had also received a shock over who it was that manned the stove; over the two and a half weeks that he and his daughter were living in the residence, it wasn't just Angel who cooked the family meals.

Sometimes, Bile cooked and, if not, Lhaklar did. He and Eshal had caught most of the boys working the stove; it looked like Angel had taught each and every one of her sons how to cook and, by way of their consuming what the boys were cooking, it also looked like they were good cooks. With Guyunis being as nervous as he was, he had yet to see if he knew how to cook.

Whenever Angel didn't make and then distribute the meals to the family, a neat and organized line formed before the stove. As always, he waited until the "congestion" in the kitchen was done before going in to make himself a plate and then get himself a cup of Joe. Breakfast was said to be the most important meal of the day, so he didn't hang back or restrict himself to what was available—a simple pancake, that was slathered in syrup, an over-easy egg, two hash browns, and a croissant were put on his plate before he decided to go to the table.

He no more sat down before Eshal yanked herself towards him.

"Ew, Hazaar!" his daughter exclaimed.

"What?" Hazaar nearly barked at his sister.

"What, the first fart of the morning come from that side of the table or something?" Bile asked.

"Eshal..."

It was rude, but he was curious over what was happening between his daughter and secondborn son so, instead of asking the question, he looked at the two children that were bickering. At first, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Everyone was at the table and was being silent; no foul smells were being detected, so, as far as he knew, no gases were passed. It was only when he looked at the two plates that his children had before them that he understood what was going on.

Eshal's plate was well composed. She had a croissant, a hash brown, half of a fried egg, and a half-pancake all nicely arranged on it. Nothing out of order or odd was happening with his daughter's breakfast, so he turned his gaze towards his son's plate. Once his eyes were on the plate, he noticed what was going on.

Hazaar's plate was quite messy in comparison to his sister's. The cause of this lay in the one fried egg that was on the pancake. Hazaar had made himself a plain breakfast that morning, and he also did something that he sometimes did with his fried eggs and pancakes.

He couldn't help but laugh after seeing what he did. The sight of the egg yolk dripping... oozing across and then down the sides of his son's syrupy pancake was just too much for him to handle.

"Wha-k-t's his problem?" Guyunis belched.

"Daddy?" Eshal, who looked a bit perturbed, said.

"Angel," TazirVile said after finally getting himself together. "How long has Hazaar been doing that—" he gestured at his son's plate, "—with his fried eggs and pancakes?"

"The egg over the pancake routine?" Angel asked. Before she could answer his question, Hazaar spoke up.

"Man, what the fuck? Now you two are going to nark on me about how I eat my eggs and pancakes?" Hazaar snapped. "I've been doin' this since I was five hundred and forty-six years old; momma's fine with it."

He told himself that it was either his morning fatigue or the Temperamental phase, which both he and Lazeer were experiencing, that was being expressed. Unlike the rest of his children, Hazaar's conception wasn't by natural means. Angel used a vial of his semen, and a turkey baster, to get pregnant with him—while the baster was retrieved from one of the mansion's cabinets, the vial of sperm came from the Sperm Ward, which was one of the most secured buildings on Gamma Vile. The reason behind this odd conception was very simple: after Lhaklar's birth, Vile placed a curse on Angel that prevented her from having any further children by him. While a child would of been conceived, it would of been lost via miscarriage. Angel and he were very careful in their sexual antics after Lhaklar was born; a condom, or the pill, was utilized to prevent a pregnancy and a subsequent miscarriage. After four hundred years, Angel got it in her head about seducing her father into taking the curse from her. She got him to meet her at a restaurant then she poured on the charm; not long after the curse was removed, she went to the Sperm Ward for five vials of his sperm. She was discovered as being pregnant two weeks later.

After finding her as being with child, he asked her about her activities—at the time of their son's conception, he wasn't at home. He automatically suspected that she did something behind his back. Instead of getting anxious, or angry with him over his thinking that she fooled around on him, she remained calm. She told him what she did and he, in response, became ecstatic over finally being able to have more children with her.

Hazaar, despite his odd conception, looked to of inherited some of his... characteristics and mannerisms. He was a well-known grump during the early morning hours—his staff sometimes found themselves as having to tip-toe around him for the first hour to two hours after he woke up—and it looked like this was passed down to his son, who was also a grump during the early morning hours. Now he had the old egg-over-the-pancake routine to add to his slowly coming along list of son-inherited characteristics and mannerisms.

The reason behind his laughing at his son's habit of flipping his fried egg onto his pancake was really quite simple: he did that as well. He, at seven hundred and five years of age, had started doing this; his mother and sister were grossed out by it while his father wasn't fazed at all. His father had simply said that he was eating like a man. He was surprised over seeing that Eshal was reacting to how Hazaar flipped his fried egg onto his pancake—she, from time to time, had caught him doing the same thing.

"I see nothing wrong in you doing it either." he said after letting his son cool down some. "I do that as well. You get that from me."

"Like father, like son." Bile said.

"So, today's a Sunday, what're the plans for everyone today?" Angel asked after complete silence fell over the table.

"Babysit Guyunis." Bile said. Guyunis, who, TazirVile was quick to note, seemed to be a bit more livelier that morning, knocked his elbow into Bile's ribs.

"I don-k-t need a babysitter." Guyunis scoffed.

"Sure you do. Just the same as you need someone to hold your hand when you're crossing the—" another elbow was thrown into Bile's ribs; a mild, push and shove fight started between the two boys that was quickly stopped by their mother.

"Go wherever he goes." Guyunis said after being told to stop pushing his brother.

"Go into town." Hazaar said. "Them things that I have on my list won't be buying themselves."

"Same as the Hot-Head." Lazeer said. Hazaar was quick to knock him from his chair.

"Don't call me a Hot-Head." Hazaar said after knocking his brother from his chair.

"How about a Bully then?" Lazeer's left, black shoe, that had a single, red zig-zag on the side, was suddenly hocked into his brother's leg. Hazaar yelled, then dive-bombed on his brother. Like with the prior fight, Angel put a stop to this one before it went too far.

"Anymore and you two won't be leaving the house." Angel said. She then turned her attention to Lhaklar. "What's on your agenda for today, Lhakie?"

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take an hour or two nap before heading out." Lhaklar said, he then looked at his sister. "And I'd like to take Eshal with me."

Eshal looked at the older of her biological half-brother's in mild shock. While she didn't mind going anywhere with him, she would like to know where he was taking her and, furthermore, what all was in store after they reached their destination. She wasn't allowed to voice this; her father spoke before she could.

"Where are you planning on taking your sister, Lhaklar?" her father asked her brother.

"To Au am Rhein—it's about five minutes from here. My buddy said that he'd collect a few of the people that I hung out with nearly a month ago; we're to meet-up at one of the small stores in town." Lhaklar replied.

"Is there a reason behind Eshal going with you?" TazirVile, who felt that there was more than just plain "meeting up" involved in the thing that his son wanted his sister to be apart of.

"Yeah, she's to apologize for barging in on me and my friends when we were swimming in the Scheidgraben."

"Thanks but no thanks. I'll stay here." Eshal said quickly.

"I insist. Thanks to you and them other girls busting in on me and my friends, I lost nearly everyone that I hang out with. Only one of my friends has remained a friend of mine; I haven't heard a thing from Seth or Jarvis or—"

"So, I didn't "barge" in on you and your loser friends without a good reason anyways."

"Eshal!" TazirVile gasped. Never had he heard such wording from her in a sentence before.

"I thought you and your friends made-up some time ago, Lhaklar." Angel, who was quiet all throughout the exchange of words that were made between her secondborn son and adopted daughter, said.

"Hell no, mom. I've left them be for a while, just as you suggested in April, and I've tried calling them and Astor has also tried talking to them. So far, no stick."

"Watch your language." TazirVile said quickly.

"You think you'd get your friends back if Eshal tagged along to personally apologize to them?" Angel asked.

"With her poppin' in like she did—" Lhaklar started to say.

"I didn't "pop in" without—" Eshal said defensively.

"—then causing my friends to run off, saying things like 'have fun with your girlfriend', 'what're you, alien magnets or something', and 'maybe we should reconsider our friendship', yes, I think she should." Lhaklar finished.

The decision was made on part of both Angel and TazirVile. To put to bed the "issue" that their two children had between themselves, they decided to have Eshal go with Lhaklar. TazirVile was firm in telling his son to be nice and presentable with his sister and he was also firm on him returning Eshal to the residence after the meet-up and apologizing was done. Eshal made a pout-like face, then went back to her breakfast. With all of what they had planned to do that day on the table, no further conversation was done. They just ate their breakfast, then quick-washed their dishes, then got ready for what they were planning on doing that day. Angel, who didn't have to go to work, stayed at home. With the exception of Lhaklar, who went up to take his nap, and Eshal, who went to her bedroom to write in her diary, and use her cellular, all of her sons left the house.