While standing where she was, Eshal thought that the calls, that she and her father heard last night, must of been heard by Lhaklar too. She couldn't come up with a better explanation for why her brother's intended hour to two hour nap became a four hour one other than he both hearing and being kept up by them. Even though she was given an extra two hours before he took her to the town of Au am Rhein, she didn't throw it all away on doing piddly things or by doing nothing. She used her time wisely to get ready for the task that he wanted her to do.
"Daddy said nothing on the day that we began our new, six-month stay here about me not being allowed to use my cellular." she remembered thinking while entering the room that she was to sleep and somewhat live in for the next half-year.
The same went on his not saying that she couldn't call or send texts to certain individuals that were in her family. While Lhaklar napped, she used her phone to text her grandmother and her oldest daughter; along with doing a little complaining to the two women, she told them what her brother wanted her to do. Her gramma was half-agreeing with her brother; in her follow-up text, she said that she should try to make amends for any friendship qualms that she either knowingly or unknowingly caused. Her gramma also said that Lhaklar should know better than to pin the blame on her for what happened on the eighth of April.
Instead of putting on a face, her grandmother was honest with her. She said that she was half-right in teleporting to the side of the river that her brother was on and in confronting her brother, and Guyunis; she also said that she was thinking, and worrying, about the protection of one of her own. Even though she said that, and that she was proud of her for being the protective, big sis that she knew she was, she still chided her for doing something that could of gotten her hurt. She read her gramma's text, then sent one back, then sent her aunt one.
Her aunt hadn't really said much on the issue. She just said for her to be careful and to do her best to not get into trouble. Aunt Qeeta also said for her to tell her mother and brothers hi for her—she had plans to do this in the next few hours.
Lhaklar got up from his nap at ten past ten. After going downstairs for around five minutes, he came up then asked if she was ready to go. Though wanting to shake her head, then go and hide behind daddy, she was mature. She nodded her head then said let's go. They left the house, then teleported to the location where her brother's friends were said to be waiting for them, right after she said that.
"Thought you said your friends were going to meet you somewhere?" Eshal asked. It was going on five minutes since they appeared in Au am Rhein; after teleporting to the town, she found herself as following her brother. He led her on for nearly three minutes before stopping at a small magazine shop. With the exception of the humans, who were walking around, minding their own business, she saw no one who looked to be waiting or expecting for another to meet them.
"Give 'em a few minutes." Lhaklar said—even though she loved him, she was freaked out by how "old" his voice sounded. When they were kids, he had a squeaky-like voice. He now had a low voice that, while not as deep as Bile's, was still deep. While not as strong, or powerful, as Bile's, her brother's voice was still powerful and strong in its own right. "I called Astor before we left; he said that it might take five to ten minutes before they get here."
"Then why don't we go... home and wait until that time's up?" she asked.
"Afraid of a little cold nip?" Lhaklar asked her.
"No."
"Or of the humans walking by you?"
"No."
"Why're you suggesting that we head home, and wait out the five to ten minutes there, if you're not afraid of getting a little cold, or of the humans?"
She gave her brother a little sniff then turned to face the road. While watching for one who looked to be looking for another, she thought about her present situation—even though this wasn't the first time that she was out on a town or city, it was the first time that she was out in one of them locations without having an adult accompanying her. Her father, when he learned that she wanted to go somewhere that was either close or a distance from home, usually appointed one of his staff to go with her; if she was with one or more of her friends, and they decided to spend some time in an agreed upon city or town, he'd ask for one of the parents of her friends to accompany them.
There was no adult with her here. Her only company was her brother—and she was phenomenally shocked over this! During breakfast, she had figured that her father would say no to Lhaklar going anywhere without having an adult with him and to his taking her with him; her father surprised her by not only having a talk with her mother on the issue but by agreeing to have her go with Lhaklar to Au am Rhein. Even though Lhaklar agreed to their father's firm instruction in having her back to their temporary residence after the apologizing was done, she was wondering if he would do so.
Her brothers—all of them, not just Lhaklar—had been acting a bit "roguish" or uncontrollable ever since their discovery nearly two years ago. Observation from the last two weeks and four days had shown her how "uncontrollable" or non-behaving they were in accord to their father. Her brothers regarded and behaved for their mother very well; they were just the opposite with their father. She wondered how much longer her father would allow that to happen. Her father, though patient and understanding, did have buttons that could be pressed. He wasn't as patient as Grampa Cheshire; he'd be at her brothers and fast if they continued to misbehave around him. At most, he might allow them a three-strike system; if they continued to misbehave after them three strikes were given, they would probably get a punishment of some sort.
A prime example of how her father was when it came to how patient and understanding he was with his young was shown three weeks and five days ago—she was grounded for entering the shield and then approaching Guyunis. Her father gave her ample warning to steer clear of anyone, and anything, that could do her harm more than once before Guyunis's association with her family was noted; she had, sadly, pushed the envelope too far in going into the shield and then confronting Guyunis on that day and she was punished for it.
"Ah, there they are!" her brother said. When he started going towards a vehicle, that looked to be pulling over to their side of the road, she grabbed him by the arm that was both broken and in a splint. The vehicle, that pulled up, then parked by them, was a beet-red color; it had a long hood, a short-looking trunk, and a tail-fin on the back. Lhaklar made a sound akin to that of a hiss and a growl then turned towards her after her hand was on his arm. She, who knew her mistake well, was given a firm shove back. "Watch my arm!"
"Sorry," she said after recovering from being shoved against the magazine shop that they were standing before. She then started blubbering. "I didn't mean to... I forgot... I was only trying to stop you from getting hit by that car!"
"Hey you old, green fucker! Either you've gotten too big for your skin, and need a few pegs kicked out from under you, or we need to take to our heels and fast."
She came close to grabbing her cellular then calling her father. The human had said a word that her father would greatly frown at the use of. Her father had given her The Talk a long time ago about the usage of such words. They were uncouth words that were best to be left alone; it was only when she reached the age of adulthood that she was allowed to use them and, even then, she wasn't to use the large scope ones—like the one that the human just said.
The human, that approached her brother, was the same one that she saw on the day that she saw Lhaklar with Guyunis... and the day that she, Uevaa, Fleebe, Kaasa, and Blaiga saw them skinny dipping. The human was of the male gender. He was wearing a pair of badly torn blue jeans, that had a brown belt around the waist; a white muscle shirt, that was lacking its lower section; and black ankle boots, that had detachable chains and buckles on their sides. He had a lot of muscle on his arms, chest, and stomach. His reddish-blond hair was mid-long, ruffled, and messy looking. His eyes were a dull green color. The human, and her brother, grasped then shook hands; she watched as the two did a single chest-bump—something that one of the male gender did that she didn't understand—before turning to look at the vehicle that was parked before the store that she, her brother, and the human were standing before.
"Now that you're out of your winter woolies, I can see that you've done a good firming up of them arms of yours." the human said to her brother. "Firming up to kick the old man out, or just looking to impress the ladies?"
"Both," her brother replied. She couldn't help but gasp at what he said. Kick their father from the house, and impress the ladies? Had she heard correctly; was that the reason for why her brother's arms had gotten bigger these past two and a half weeks?
"Be warned, them old types are hard to fell. I just got through kicking mine to the curb last week. It was sho' hard to do, but he got the point." the human was saying.
"Mustn't of been that hard for you. I see no bruises or nicks or cuts on you." her brother returned.
"Man, he didn't have so much as a chance to lay hand on me. It was mostly me throwing the punches and him running or ducking. I threw him a few dresses afterwards; enjoy womanhood, you old fuck, that's what I told him after throwing him from the house." the human said.
"Don't believe a word of what my cockamamie bruder just said. Our dat's still under the same roof as us and our mum." a tough, feminine voice said from within the vehicle.
"Pack 'em in like sardines, or was you only able to bring your sister?" Lhaklar asked. Now he sounded serious.
"All but my previous two girlfriends are inside my Merc." the human said, he then turned around. He spoke to the vehicle that was parked nearby loudly and clearly. "Alright you slow fucks, it's time to vacate my car."
The car had a very surprising amount of people in it. In all, five were in it; the bulk of them passengers were getting out now.
The first was of the male gender. He was just as big as the one that her brother just spoke with. He stood five foot, ten inches—the same as the one who had the reddish-blond hair—and he had curly, brown hair and brown eyes. The nose, that was on his deeply tanned face, was hooked. He was wearing a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and greenish-black tennis shoes; there was a watch on his left wrist that had a black band on it.
Another male got out next. Like with the other two, he was big and burly. He had long, dirty-blond hair. From her distance, it looked like he had a tired look in his brown eyes. He was wearing a pair of dirt-encrusted blue jeans, a green muscle shirt, black boots, and a thin, jean jacket.
Quite surprisingly, the ones who got out next were girls. The first was five foot, five inches tall; she had ash-brown hair and rather pretty, amber-colored eyes—which stood out well in her oval-shaped face. Even from where she stood, she could see that she had a good splash of freckles going across her nose, which was quite small. Her cheeks were like the rest of her—very nicely tanned. She had small, but quite perky, breasts. Her hips were like the rest of her—petite. This girl wrapped one of her arms around the waist of the dirty-blond haired boy soon after exiting the car.
While the second girl was also pretty, she was taller than the first by three and a half inches. She was both petite and had a good length of leg on her—she did think that her breasts were a bit too big on her. This girl had long, curly black hair and blue eyes. While the ash-brown haired girl was wearing a short, jean skirt, a purple blouse, and black heels, the black-haired girl was wearing skin-tight leggings, a blue woman's muscle shirt, and white tennis shoes.
"Lhaklar, My Pet, it's been a while." the black-haired girl said to her brother.
"Indeed, it has." Lhaklar said.
"Had to throw a rope around Seth and Jarvis—they didn't want to stop acting like bulls. Had to do a special wrangling session on them." the reddish-blond haired boy said to her brother. "Had to also drag my sister to my car—ever hear a girl squeal, Lhaklar? Thought my ears were going to fall off after I grabbed her by her hair."
"Yeah, a birdie told us that one of our "former" gang wanted to speak with us. While we're still miffed over what happened last month, we're willing to hear what you have to say." the curly, brown-haired boy said.
"The brand on my ass still hurts." the dirty-blond haired boy said in a tired sort of way.
Lhaklar looked at his sister; there was really no better time than now for her to step forward to apologize for barging in on his and his friends' time at Scheidgraben. Eshal looked at him almost at once—it took him a lot to not say how "young" she looked in the eyes. His sister looked miserable, and it looked like she didn't want to do as he wanted her to. Eshal had embarrassed him on that April eighth day and she also caused him to lose all but one of his friends; if he was to regain his friends, and if she was to gain a little trust in him, she had to do as he wanted her to. There was normal sibling embarrassment and there was the uncalled for bullshit that siblings shouldn't do—like showing up at certain water sources where one of their own was at with some of their friends, for example.
To move things forward a little quicker, and to lift the seemingly dark cloud of tension that fell over him and his group, he started introducing everyone—maybe if Eshal knew who she was apologizing to, she wouldn't be but so nervous, or reluctant, to speak.
"You fools met her on the eighth of April," he started, he gestured at his sister. "This is Eshal, my older sister."
"Charmed."
"Eshal, the one who spoke first is Ada Bonnaire." Lhaklar said. Eshal nodded at the curly, black-haired girl; the girl returned the nod.
"Hello,"
"And the second willing participant of today's introductions is Ivonne Angerer." Lhaklar said. Eshal nodded her head at the ash-brown haired girl, who merely smiled at her.
"You owe me five euros for the peep show that you and them other gals saw."
"And the third to be introduced to you, my dear sister, is Seth Horowitz." Lhaklar sang. Eshal couldn't help but blush at the boy who had curly, brown hair. The boy responded to her blush by looking at the sky.
"Think she's in love with you, Seth. Time to find the wedding ring and the venue for the ceremony to take place in."
"And this is Astor Bonnaire—he's Ada's older brother." Lhaklar said of the reddish-blond haired boy.
"Hey,"
"And the last to cross the finish line is Jarvis Adlersflügel." Lhaklar said. The boy who had the tired look in his brown eyes simply nodded at her; she nodded back.
"And I'm quite surprised at that. Jarvis is usually right up there with the front-runners." the one named Seth said.
"Can't run well on an empty stomach. My wrangler decided to skip-out on feeding me my breakfast this mornin'." Jarvis said.
"Ass-branding calls for breakfast skipping." Astor said.
After giving her brother another look, Eshal stepped forward to do as she was there to do. It wasn't as hard as she thought it'd be—while the first few words nearly overlapped one another, the rest came out clearly; towards the end of her given apology, she added a touch of honestly towards the actions that she did on that day,
After it was out, she stepped back then waited. She was very aware of what was to happen after she was returned to the house that her family was staying in—her parents would be approached, then her grandmother would be called; she'd voice her opinion on what she thought of her brother's friends to all of them. Even though her brother needed friends, she was surprised over the ones that he had—when he was a kid, Lhaklar had more composed friends while, as a teenager, he had more... mouthy and "dirty" friends who weren't as composed. She found herself as not liking Ada right away. The girl started mouthing off, and causing a bit of trouble between herself, the human named Ivonne Angerer, and her brother right after she apologized for what happened on the eighth of April. She figured that Ivonne was one of them non-confrontational people; it was obvious that Astor, Seth, and Jarvis were jocks—this was a crowd that she had definitely not expected her baby brother to befriend or hang around with.
Instead of taking her back to the house after the apology was done, Lhaklar turned then went into the magazine shop. His friends followed him, as did she. While she didn't hug up against him, she did stay near him.
"That it? Are they your friends again, or did they just... decide to mull it over a while before... you know." she asked after there were four aisles between her, her brother, and his friends.
"The test will come in a few minutes." Lhaklar replied. "After I return you home, that is."
"Looking or buying?" Eshal asked after her brother took a magazine, that had the words In-Fisherman on the front in big, white letters, from the aisle's shelf.
"Buying—t'is the time of the month to do my monthly magazine re-stocking." her brother answered.
Lhaklar got In-Fisherman, Sport Fishing, Field and Stream, Fly Fishin' and Bassin', Ducks Unlimited, Predator Xtreme, Turkey Country, and a magazine that she was quick to gasp at. She tried her best to prevent him from getting this one, particular magazine; their father wouldn't be pleased over hearing or seeing him looking at or reading material that was pornographic. He would be adamant on his steering clear of such material. Lhaklar purchased the magazine, regardless of her attempts to stop him from doing so.
"We all done here?" Astor asked after they regrouped by the shop's front. "All of our magazine fetishes purchased? All shopping for girlfriends done?"
"Yep. Got me a nice blonde coming to pay me a visit at one o'clock." Lhaklar said.
"Lhaklar!" Eshal exclaimed. She fought the urge to throw her hands to her face.
"Got me a gal named Fritzi to pay homage to in forty-five minutes." Seth said.
"No girlfriend shopping done by me but, while I was browsing for my usual mags, I was able to get Ivonne to agree to lather the brand that's on my ass in fifteen minutes." Jarvis said.
"Let me take her home," Lhaklar, who was fighting the chuckles, said. "The "old man" said for her to be home after everything between us was squared away."
"If, in five minutes, you've not returned, we leave without ya." Seth flashed an evil smile.
"I'll be sure to be back before that time's up." Lhaklar said.
As Lhaklar took their sister home, then went to spend some time with his friends, and as Eshal went to tell their parents all of what came from their brother's mouth, he and Guyunis were standing by one of Amsterdam's Cannabis coffee shops.
With all of what was going on at home, and with it raining almost nonstop for the last few days, this was the only time that he could come here. Instead of coming here for the girls, or to take in the sights, or to shop, he came here for one thing and one thing only—to do a restock on his smoke. With Amsterdam being the Cannabis Capital of the Planet, he was in the right place to do this. Like his siblings, he received his allowance yesterday but didn't go out to spend it right away; instead, he pocketed it then went to see what Guyunis was doing. At the time, getting his pot wasn't tops on his list of things to do. Seeing as the mood for today was a little better, and that Guyunis was a little more livelier than yesterday, he decided to both go to the city and take him with him.
This was, essentially, the first day in over two weeks that Guyunis had left the house. He hoped that this was a sign of his brother finally settling down and returning to being like his old self again. In a lot of ways, he missed the old, tough, non-clingy Guyunis.
The two of them appeared in the city twenty minutes ago. With the matter of spending some time with Angus and Aubin squared away, he decided to make the trip and then look for a human who would help him in getting some pot. Right after reaching the stretch of sidewalk where the Cannabis coffee shops were, then starting in on looking for said human, he started thinking about the city's rich history.
"According to the pamphlets, that are in several conveniently placed locations along the walkway, it started out as a small fishing village in the 12th century."
Along with being quite old, it got its name from the Amstel river, which it was located at the mouth of. There were about eight districts in the city, and the population was currently under a million—in stark contrast, it was 3,500,990 in 2013. Due to all the natural disasters and plagues that occurred over the last few thousands years, the population had come under threat. While this information was relatively new to him, the one on it being a Free-For-All place by the humans, and on it being known for its Cannabis coffee shops, wasn't. While pot was very legal to use now, Amsterdam was the only place where you could smoke it in a private and public setting—in the Cannabis coffee shops, you could come in, take a seat, order something, then take out a joint or pipe without hearing someone gasp or telling you that you're going to get in trouble for what you're doing. Due to the air in the shops being so thick in Cannabis smoke, one didn't necessarily have to bring something to smoke in the establishment—a contact high could be gotten from just sitting in them.
It was this knowledge and this knowledge alone that brought him here in the first place.
"But I learned very quickly that one has to be a resident of the city to be allowed to purchase the shops' pot." Bile thought while sustaining the urge to lean against the building that he and Guyunis were standing before.
While there were some dumb humans on the planet, the ones here weren't dumb by any means. They knew that he wasn't a local of the area; due to this, he had found himself as having to rely on waiting outside of the shops for a human to leave. Once one did, he'd go up to ask if they'd be so kind as to go back in and then buy him some of what was available. If one of the humans went through in doing so, he'd both thank and then pay him, or her, back for their services.
Most of the time, he relied on men to help him in aquiring what he wanted. On this morning, he found himself as having to rely on a little old lady to help him in getting some pot.
"What're you doing-k after this?" Guyunis asked.
"The usual—go to the dump then sift around. Find a few things that either I or the family will like... or that I can fix up and then sell." Bile replied.
"Cool."
"Going with, or planning on going home after we leave here?"
"Going with... for a while, at leas-k-t." Guyunis replied. "Go-k-t plans to... you know... shop in town."
"You going to return home if I let you run off on your own?" Bile asked.
"Where else would I g-k-o?" Guyunis counter-asked.
While the doubt was there, he still worried that Guyunis might run away from home. That or just stay away because of the old man and Eshal being there. He was slightly nervous about Guyunis's plan; his mother would flip if he didn't come home, and he would probably have a good, red backside if he ran away. Even though Guyunis wasn't of blood-birth relation to him, he still loved him like a brother and he still worried about him.
While Guyunis had a right of both going out on his own, and getting his monthly magazines, smokes, models, and etc., he thought that it was too soon for him to be doing so. Too much had happened at home and too much stress had fallen on his shoulders.
He was about to ask Guyunis to not go off on his own when his connection left the shop that they were waiting by. He signaled her, then went to meet her. His connection was rail thin, had steel-gray hair, glassy green eyes, and had to be somewhere in her upper sixties to early seventies; she was quick in tossing him the bag that she bought and he was quick in repaying her for her services. They went on their way soon after the exchange was done. He pocketed the ounce of pot that he was given then he gestured for Guyunis to come to him. When he was at his side, he teleported them to the dump that was in the town of Durmersheim, Germany.
"You know the rules: if you come by any knives—" he started to say.
"Finders keepers," Guyunis smiled before going towards one of the dump's various piles of junk. "If I find any, I'm no-k-t telling or showing you them."
He stayed near his brother for all of fifteen minutes before "migrating" from him—but only on request, that was. Guyunis took his closeness, and his looking over his shoulder, in stride for all of ten minutes before getting anxious. He moved off to where two piles of stuff were about ten minutes in on their stay then, after five minutes went by, and he saw that he was still following him, he turned then said for him to take his "stalker" ass somewhere else. He chuckled, then moved off. While he kept his brother in his sights, he gave him the space that he both wanted and needed.
He found himself as being very surprised when he found a box that had two necklaces in it a few minutes after moving away from Guyunis. The box was old; while it belonged in a dump, its two necklaces didn't. One of the necklaces had a cheap, gold chain from which aqua, or blue-green, plastic pieces, that had many holes punched in them, hung from. The plastic pieces were bent or twisted in all sorts of ways; when he tested one of them, to see if it was strong or weak, he found that it was very strong. It didn't break or bend from its created shape. While the necklace looked cheap, it also looked unique; he decided to keep it—if his mother or sister didn't want it, he could sell it. The other necklace was one of them Chainmaille red scale collar types; he bet his mother would love it.
Over the years, he had learned that the humans were a most waster-some bunch. It didn't matter if it was in good shape, was still useful, or was recently purchased—they threw almost everything away. This didn't change now; soon after finding the necklaces, he came across a Chia pet that he bet his dinosaur-loving baby brother would like. While the seeds were gone, the piece could still be used as a decoration and, if he wasn't incorrect, it was based off the genetically created dinosaur that was depicted in the 2015 film, Jurassic World. After digging in a particularly smelly pile of junk, he came across a red and gold lariat necklace. He pocketed it then dug into the pile deeper. A red coral necklace, that was still on its card, was found soon after he took the plunge.
When a nearby rat caught his eye, he moved away from the pile that he found the two necklaces and Chia pet in. The rodents, that were commonly found in dumps, carried all sorts of diseases on or in them; they were also notoriously famous for being fierce biters. He didn't want to tangle with any of them.
He came across one of them cat crinkle tunnels soon after relocating from where he was. Not long after finding the tunnel, he found something that he bet his sister would like. Naturally, the two pillows would need to be cleaned, but they looked right up her alley. They were made out of a reversible matte sequin material; one was blue, while the other was silver. After coming across the pillows, he decided to put a halt to what he was doing. The smell was starting to get to him, and he knew that he was going to need a shower after returning home—taking the "plunge" in that one pile had cost him dearly, but he was glad that he did it.
"Hey! Guyunis! Time to regroup and then leave this place." he yelled after spell-sending all of what he found home.
Guyunis must of found a good spot to sift through—when he showed up, he had an armful and a half of stuff on him. After leaving the dump, they went to a nearby park; Guyunis was a sport in showing him what he found after they got there.
"Dude! Seriously? Someone threw that out?" he exclaimed after the long, red-brown leather jacket, that had a light brown, fake-fur collar, was shown to him.
"Tha-k-t's what I said when I found it." Guyunis said.
"This is a rather expensive jacket and it's in great condition," he said in awe. "For ma?"
"Yeah,"
Guyunis had also come across a green dress that had an irregular hemline, a bound waist, and short sleeves. The pair of black leather covered shoes, that had low heels on them, were nice; he came close to spitting after the gold plated, twisted alloy china bracelet and the vintage, red ruby rhinestone bracelet were shown to him. Naturally, the spring-like, door hanging cat toy was for his brother's cat. He wasn't sure on what his brother was planning on doing with the wine bottle holder that was intricately designed to look like an Elephant; the same went with the glass orb that had a bubble-encased, pink opaque feathery wave interior—Guyunis never said what he was intending to do with them, even though he asked him. The four shirts—all blouses, but one being dark red, and having half-sleeves; another being a normal, green color; another having long sleeves, and being a red and pink, tie-dye color; and the final being blue and having short sleeves and embellished shoulders—were for their mother.
His brother said nothing on finding any knives. Either he didn't come by any or he already sent what he found in that area home.
"Good, damn, finds, man!" he said after all of what his brother found was spell-sent home. After everything was sent home, he said, "Found a cat tunnel earlier. All I have to do is clean it before giving it to you."
"Sabine will be purrin-k-g and loving you all over after i-k-t's given to her." Guyunis said.
"Yuck, tell your damn cat that I'm not available."
"Maybe the tunnel, and the toy that I found for her, will stop her from meowing and scra-k-tching at my door for a while." Guyunis said. "Been havin' to, you know, do a spell to hide her scra-k-tch marks."
"Leave your room open. Let her roam around. I don't think—"
"With tha-k-t man and girlie in the house? I don't think so, Bile." Guyunis said sharply.
As Bile was giving their brother a long face, he was entering the house that they, and most of their family, started calling home nine months ago. While he was able to get what he needed for his pets, and do a little shopping for himself, he wasn't able to spell-send it home. Instead of remembering the words to the spell that'd send his purchases home, he forgot them; this caused him to go through his resident town's community center, and then teleport home, with all of his purchases being on his person.
It was a struggle to get into the house, and then to go down the hallway that came off the foyer, and then to go down the hallway that led to the stairs. Once before the stairs, he stopped to both catch his breath and to balance what he had in his arms.
Either it was fate, or his luck ran out, because, when he went to balance what he was holding, most of it fell to the floor.
"Shit!" Lazeer cursed after hearing the noise of his purchases colliding with the floor.
He cringed after the house became quiet around him then looked down. Thoughts of what would happen if the floor was coated in calcium dust, or if the box of crickets, or containers of wax worms and dubia roaches, broke open and their bugs started relishing in their newly given freedom, or if the small jars of model paint broke and then splashed their contents on the floor and walls, occurred after he turned his gaze to what fell. His mother would of had a cow if any of that happened, and his pets would be waving bye-bye too—like Hazaar, he was given The Talk on what'd happen if anything that revolved around his pet-keeping hobby was seen moving about on the carpets, floors, curtains, etc. He was allowed to bring home and then keep his frogs and salamanders, and he was allowed to buy the things that went along with their care, but he wasn't allowed to let his hobby, or the things that went along with it, "migrate" from his room.
Luckily, his cringe wasn't followed up with the stress of having to clean the floor of the mess that escaped the boxes, containers, and jars. The box of crickets, the containers of wax worms and dubia roaches, the container of calcium dust, and the paint bottles didn't break. None of his pictured worries was happening; once he realized that everything was fine, he sighed then went to begin the process of collecting the things that fell.
The magazines, which weren't dropped, were placed to the side. The same went with the two models—one of a skeletal representation of a Futabasaurus while the other being of an Allosaurus attacking a Kentrosaurus—and the packet of moist bits. He did his best to balance the stack of items that fell then he went to put the items that didn't fall on top of them.
"Going up the stairs with all of this is going to be hard..." he thought after finishing the stacking of his purchases.
Yes, but it had to be done. Unless by some miracle the words to that spell came to him, he had no other way of getting his purchases to his room. If the words to that spell were remembered, he'd not have to worry about what would fall while he ascended the stairs, or how he'd balance everything so nothing would fall. Alas, though, the words never came to him after the stacking was complete; this meant one thing and one thing only.
He'd have to go up to his bedroom the traditional way, and he'd have to run the risk of everything falling on him in the proc—
"Need help?"
He jumped after hearing the gravelly-sounding voice that belonged to his father. Even though he knew the man was in the building, he didn't hear him after coming into the house. The house was quiet. His mother was probably in the basement, doing laundry, and his father... well, he knew that he was somewhere in the house. The living room, perhaps. Or maybe the dining room.
He turned after hearing his father then did the only thing that he could think of doing—he had a lot to take upstairs; unless he wanted to run the chance of it falling on him while he ascended the stairs, he'd have to run the "risk" of making a double trip to take it all up to his room... er, unless he had someone to help him in taking it up, of course. He nodded his head, then collected what he was able to collect, then went up the stairs. His father collected what he left behind then followed him.
"How much does your mother give you in an allowance each month?" his father asked after they exited the stairs.
"Fifty euros," he replied—his voice came out as it usually did: gruff and hoarse-like.
"All of this cost you fifty euros?" his father, who sounded non-believing, asked.
"Had some money left-over from last month's allowance." he lied. In all actuality, he "stole" the two models, the box of model paints, and three of the magazines that he came home with. He used his allowance on the rest of what he had. He was nearly broke now.
The idea of telling his father to just "drop" what he had in his arms by his bedroom door came to him for only a second before he discarded it. How rude would that be? The son told the father, who took time out from whatever the hell he was doing to help him take certain items up to his bedroom, to leave all of what he helped to bring up the stairs by his bedroom door and then scram. He bet his mother would shake her head at him if he said that and he bet he'd also get a good lecture from the old man on how one of his age should respect their elders.
He was to "move in" with this man in six months time... he figured that, if any amount of trust was to be sparked between the two of them, it should be now instead of later.
"This is your room?" his father said after he opened his bedroom door then went in. His father took one step in then stopped to gawk at what he was seeing.
The first thing that ran through his head, after he went into the room, was that it either belonged to a kid-kid or to someone who was the younger of his siblings. With his son being the latter of them two things, he automatically pinned that to the reason for why the room looked the way it did.
While he felt ashamed of himself for not knowing his youngest son as well as he did, he didn't beat himself up too much about it. Lazeer was a four-month old baby when the threat was made. Angel only whisked the boys away as a way to keep herself with them; her intentions in leaving with them weren't bad. During the latter part of the year 4099, when Lazeer was living on Moas, he had picked up or noticed a few things that he liked doing—building model representations of prehistoric reptiles, aircrafts, and boats were some of those things.
After stepping into the room, he found himself as having to both duck and dodge to the left—there were five models hanging from the ceiling. It looked like all of them had a piece of twine wound around their middles and it also looked like one of their ends was stuck or glued to the ceiling. The model that he ducked and then dodged was painted a plain camouflage color; it looked like a representation of a Ferumble Doc. 2—an aircraft that was used by the people who roamed the planet Ferumbeia, which went up in a plume of space dust a million to a million and a half years ago. The humans, that were on the side of the planet that he and his family were on, had used a craft like that of the model that was hanging from the room's ceiling in the second World War—they called it a German JU-88G-6.
The model that his head came close to hitting was just a foot from the Ferumble Doc. 2-like model representation. This model, which was of a 172 Arado Ar555 German Jet Bomber, was given a nice, white-leopard paint job. The 172 Arado Ar555 German Jet Bomber was a craft that only the humans made; from what the book that he read some five hundred ago said, the plane was never flown. A small-scale model was made, then an actual plane was made, then plans for the plane's actual development were made and proposed; while the humans were interested in the plane, none were manufactured or even test-driven or used in battle. The plane's plans, like so many others that were either too expensive, couldn't be figured out, or were discarded, had just collected dust.
A model of a skeletal Pterodactyl, one of the planet's former flying creatures that died out after an asteroid struck the planet over sixty-five million years ago, hung from the ceiling two feet from where the model planes were. He gave it a good looking-over before moving on to the one that hung near it.
"Lazeer, you know what this odd-looking model is?" he asked his son.
"Yeah, that's a Pterodactyl flying-wing aircraft." Lazeer, who was currently placing the items that he brought up to his room on his bed, answered.
"A what?"
"A plane that was developed by a man named Geoffrey T. R. Hill. The one that you're looking at was nothing more than an experimental, tailless plane."
"You paint it naturally, or did you decide to use nothing but silver paint on it?" he asked. He was intrigued by what he just heard and, furthermore, by what he was seeing. The model, that he was looking at, looked like a seagull and, like his son had said, it had no tail on it.
"Decided to be simple in painting it. Not many photographs exist of the Pterodactyl's, and not many know what colors they were painted." his son replied.
The model that was beside the Pterodactyl flying-wing aircraft was no other than a representation of a Glyunsia Mock-12. He had always been intrigued by this type of war-plane! They were fast and deadly. The model, that he was looking at, was a mostly mold-green color; a pair of angry eyes, and a shark's mouth, were painted on the craft's front and a yellow, five-point star, that had a black circle surrounding it, was painted on both of its sides. He looked at this model for a decent amount of time before asking his son what the humans called it—his son claimed that they called it a Flying Tiger shark mouth P-40; he also said that they were used in the second World War.
"Know anything about the Nydonia Galaxy, or the Glyunsia Mock-12?" he asked his son, who was now taking the items that he carried up to his room from his arms.
"Not really." Lazeer replied. He then said, "I take it that the planet Glyunsia is in that galaxy, and that the plane was or is made there?"
He snickered—while his son was incorrect on the planet's name, he wasn't about to get all on his case about it. The Nydonia Galaxy was a horseshoe-shaped galaxy about twelve galaxies from the M-51 Galaxy; a man by the name of Araloborg Evoniflaan was its conqueror and ruler. Araloborg had personally taken several fleets of Glyunsia Mock-12's down while being on the planet Goosleon before declaring the planet his. Them fleets had done a lot of damage to both Araloborg's troops and to Araloborg Evoniflaan; the man came very close to needing his left arm amputated because of them—they just tore it to pieces! Mr. Evoniflaan had a lot to owe to the team of doctors who were charged with his care.
Araloborg Evoniflaan had incorporated around a thousand of the planes that were responsible for his nearly having his arm amputated into his military soon after the Nydonia Galaxy fell to him. The galaxy that he set his sights on next fell rather quickly, thanks to the use of them planes.
He told his son this then moved on. Once the items, that he helped his son take up to his room, were removed from his arms, he got serious in looking the room that he was in over.
"Big enough for one... which is appropriate, considering the fact that he's a mid-teenager and only needs a bed big enough for just himself. " he thought after looking at the bed, that was against the room's left-side wall.
The bed had an oak camouflage comforter, and matching sheets, on it. There looked to be a plain, dark green fleece blanket between the comforter and sheets. The three pillows, that were on it, had matching, oak camouflage cases on them.
Beside the bed sat a distressed wooden side table. A weird, robot-like alarm clock was standing just before the table's lamp, which had a base that had all sorts of figurines—a quick look told him that they were a mixture of Stegosaur's, Velociraptor's, Tyrannosaurus Rex's, and Triceratops's—on it. The lamp had a dark yellow shade on it, which he thought went very well with the piece.
"You have a rather interesting rug here, son." he said after noticing the black and white, optical illusion-like rug that was beside the bed.
"Careful—it has a way of making one who stares for too long to have a headache." his son, who had since gone into his closet, warned him.
Across from the foot of his son's bed, mounted on the wall, was a 30" flat screen tv. A stained oak hardwood dresser, that had six drawers on it, was both to the right of the room and in the top right corner. A white oak, three-legged corner desk was in the bottom right corner; the closet was between it, the dresser, and a bookcase—the latter being both 71" tall, royal cherry colored, and having five shelves on it. Before taking in the contents that were on the bookcase, he walked over then looked at what was by the foot of the bed. He had never seen such an item before. He was instantly captivated by its appearance.
"Lazeer, what is this?" he asked after staring at the canid-like thing that was by the foot of the bed.
"My Bat-eared fox."
He never, really, caught the full name of the animal; he was so captivated by the canid-like beast that only half of what his son said was heard. The animal, that he was looking at, had tawny-colored fur. It had large, black ears—a quick measuring told him that they were over five inches long. The parts of its pointed face were black; so were the legs. The animal was nearly twenty-two inches long; it stood about two feet up off the floor. He looked this animal over a few times before something else caught his eye.
His youngest son had two sets of antlers on the wall that the side of his bed was pushed up against. The first belonged to a species of Sable Antelope—along with being a dark tan color, they arched back and had many rings on them. The second belonged to a species of Eland—they were both V-shaped, light gray in color, and had three or four tight spirals to them. A soft, creamy-colored Fennec fox fur was tacked on the wall between the two sets of antlers. Even from where he stood, he knew that the antlers were of the fragile sort and that they were being well-cared for; he couldn't help but be proud of his boy over that.
A preserved Opossum, that was preserved with its legs sticking out from its body, and with its tail curved in a near question-mark, was dangling from a piece of driftwood that was mounted on the wall above the head of his son's bed. He looked at the animal for only a second before glancing at the bookcase that was beside the dresser.
"Did you collect all of these animals during your hunts, or come by them by pure chance when you were at the dump?" he asked as he looked at the items that were on the bookcase.
"All from my hunts," his son, who was now taking a big, plastic container from his closet, replied.
A small stereo, that's speakers were appropriately sized for it, was on the bookcase's first shelf. A bunch of music discs and magazines were on the same shelf.
To the far left of the bookcase's third shelf was a glass airplane lamp while, on the opposite side of the same shelf, was a flying saucer lamp. A preserved Egyptian Weasel—a nocturnal animal that had short legs, a broad snout and small ears on a small head, and a long, but thin, tail—was beside the airplane lamp. The animal had a mostly brown coat while its legs, ears, and stomach were a creamy color. The preserved specimen, that was beside the Egyptian Weasel, caught his eye rather quickly. He became a bat-fanatic in his mid-six hundreds; he had bats for pets and he also had a wide assortment of preserved bats in his hunting collection. The preserved bat, that was on the bookcase, was on a piece of mahogany wood; its wings and feet were pinned to the piece of wood perfectly. The bat's mouth was, most interestingly, open; the animal's sharp, little teeth, and tiny, pink tongue, could been seen. Naturally, the bat's wings were hairless; except for the tips, which were white, the fur, that was on the animal's stomach and back, was black—this white-tipped fur gave the animal an interesting, frosted or silver appearance.
"You've probably already figured that I'd ask this but, what's this bat called?" he asked. Lazeer had left the room with his plastic container; when he returned, with a seemingly clean container in his possession, he asked him his question.
"Silver-haired bat." his son replied quickly.
The animal, that was beside the preserved bat, was... quite odd in appearance. It looked like an Armadillo; along with having large, overlapping, plate-like scales on its back, sides, and tail, it had long claws on its front feet. The thirty-nine inch long animal was propped on a piece of driftwood; the end of its tail was set in a slightly curled fashion.
"What's this called?" he asked. He pointed at the Armadillo-like creature.
"Pangolin." his son replied.
He knew the name of only one of the two items that were on the next shelf. The Dik-dik—very particular name for an animal... very funny, yet also crude—was considered as being the planet's smallest known species of Antelope. It was sixteen inches tall and was anywhere between twenty and twenty-eight inches long; the animal had a gray-brown upper-body coat while its lower parts—the legs, belly, chest, and flanks—were tan. The preserved specimen had a bare, black spot below the inside corner of both of its dark eyes; its three-inch long horns were nearly hidden by an upright tuft of hair that looked similar to a mohawk. The tuft of hair was dark tan in color; the nearly concealed horns were dark gray and ribbed.
Two models, one of a Chinese Junk Pirate boat and the other of a nickel-silver rowing boat, that had a stainless steel armature oarsman in it, were between the preserved Dik-dik and a preserved lizard. The shelf's preserved lizard looked to have thick skin and a club-like tail that was both heavy, muscular, and spiny. The lizard was mostly yellow in color; its head, feet, and some of its tail were dark gray to black in color.
"My father would do more than stare at this if he saw it, son." he said before going on to looking at the items that were on the bookcase's last shelf.
"He can have a picture of my Egyptian Mastigure, but he can't have my trophy." his son, who had since emptied the cardboard box of its contents, replied.
Like the shelf above, the final shelf on the bookcase had two preserved animals on it. He knew the names of both animals right away. The first was none other than a preserved Nine-banded armadillo. The animal's back, sides, and tail had a covering of scaly plates or scutes on them; the plate-like scutes, that were on its shoulders and rump, were rather large. The underside of the animal was covered in tough skin, which had a layer of coarse hair over it. The claws, that came out of the animal's middle forefingers, were longer than the ones that were on its other fingers. The animal was standing on its hind legs; its front legs were hanging loosely in front of its chest, while its tail was pulled over to the right side of its body.
The preserved specimen of the stocky and low-slung bodied American Badger was a fine piece of work. The animal had short, powerful legs; its forelegs had huge claws on them, while the claws, that were on the back feet, were short. With the exception its head, the animal had a grizzled brown, black, and white coat of coarse hair or fur that almost gave it a mixed brown-tan appearance. The animal's triangular-shaped face had a distinctive black and white pattern to it; along with having dark stripes on its cheeks, it had a white stripe that ran from the base of its head on down to its nose.
"Guess I can accept his having a poster of this caliber." he thought after looking at the poster that was to the right of his son's closet. The poster had a very busty woman on it; she was wearing a very low-cut bikini top, a matching g-string, and a pair of high heels. The woman was sitting on the wing of an airplane that was flying above New York City; along with having a 1950's hair-style, her lips were all puckered up.
His son had one more poster in his room. Along with being on the back of his bedroom door, it had a Giant Squid on it... which was tearing a ship to pieces! He was in full approval of that poster; nothing out of the ordinary or inappropriate was happening in it at all. He was on his way over to look at the first of the room's two, smaller bookcases when he noticed the item that was on the shelf of the larger bookcase that he had missed looking at. He back-tracked to the taller of the room's bookcases then took in the item that he missed; his jaw came close to collapsing from his face when he saw what it was that he was looking at.
The wooden stand, that was on the bookcase's second shelf, had a very pretty sword on it. The sword's blade looked to have a diamond coating on it; the grip was made to look like a snake's neck and head—the head, rather interestingly, was open. A real ruby tongue was curled up in the mouth; the fangs looked to be made out of genuine gold. When he chanced a closer look at the sword, he saw that the grip was both scale-designed and diamond encrusted—blue and red diamonds were all over it.
"Where in the vast Universe did you get this sword, Lazeer?" he asked his son.
"From mom," Lazeer replied.
"Your mother gave you th... how? Where'd she get it and how'd she—"
"You'll have to ask her on how she got it and on how much she spent on getting it made." Lazeer replied. "I was real little when I got it. Mom went to Satheon to get it made. She did the same on my brothers' swords."
"Your brothers have swords too?" he asked, incredulously.
"Uh-huh. I call mine Schlange Schwert—that means Snake Sword, in German."
The three-legged, white oak corner desk, and its seemingly matching chair, were very normal in all attributes. A series of shelves were over the desk; the bottom one had either new or used model paints, paint thinner, and napkins on it while the top one had two mason jars on it that were half-full of water. A bunch of paint brushes were on the middle shelf. There was nothing on the desk's surface... yet. Judging by the two models that his son brought home, the desk would probably be used here in the imminent future.
He glanced at the corner desk, its seemingly matching chair, and the three shelves for only a second before going to look at the first of the room's two, smaller bookcases.
"They were in China at the time," he remembered his wife saying two and a half weeks ago, after he asked the question on where and how Hazaar received his cracked hip.
"What were the boys doing in China?" he remembered asking her.
"Looking for pets—frogs and salamanders, mainly."
It looked like the source of the calls, that he and Eshal heard last night, was just discovered. Here was something that he didn't know his son had an interest in. He found himself as being quite surprised over seeing the critters—polliwogs, as he called them—that were in the cage that was on top of the small, two-shelf, dark cherry bookcase. He was even more surprised over how healthy they looked... and over how well-maintained their cage was.
The cage, that sat atop the bookcase, that stood to the right of his son's bedroom door, was nearly, completely glass-made. The top was both ventilated and screen-made; there were a pair of swing-out doors on its front. A square-shaped light fixture, that looked to have a UVB bulb in it, was on its top. A round, heat lamp fixture, that, he presumed, had an appropriate bulb in it, was just before the UVB light fixture. Both of these fixtures were on. The cage had a natural rock background in it. There were three, bend-a-branch decorations in it—two were pinned between its sides by the suction cups that were on their ends, while the third twisted down to the dirt substrate. There was a fake Amapolla plant, that looked to be hanging over the bend-a-branches. A series of vines hung from the cage's top—two of the cage's occupants were sitting on them. The cage's bottom had a layer of dirt on it. There were two, grape driftwood ornaments resting on the dirt substrate; a large, rainforest leaf water dish was between them. He knew that the two dials, that were on the cage's side, were important—polliwogs were a species that required both heat and humidity; it looked like his son was making sure that his critters had both of them requirements.
"When we were downstairs, I was wondering what them crickets and other bugs that you had were for." he said after doing a quick count of the polliwogs that were in the cage. The enclosure looked to have five animals in it; all of them looked to be the same color—mottled green and brown. All five had a mossy appearance to their skin. From general observation, two of the five polliwogs looked to be around three inches long; another looked to be nearly that size. The two, smaller polliwogs looked to be around two and a half inches long. "How long have you been interested in polliwogs?"
"Since I was real little." Lazeer replied while coming towards him. A gentle push to the side was given; his son dropped to his knees then pulled three, long, plastic containers out from the two shelves that were under the bookcase's one, glass cage. "Just got an interest in trying to keep these."
The three plastic containers had dome tops on them. It looked like all of them had some sort of animal in them. He, not being able to control himself, knelt down beside his son to see what it was that was housed in them.
Even though his son undid the latches on the tops of all of the containers, he lifted the tops one by one. The first container, that he opened, had a heavy layer of condensation on its sides. Heat and moisture automatically escaped it after its top was removed. The container, he was quick to note, had a fine layer of soil substrate and moss on its bottom. There was a water dish in its center; there were several, fake plants and a hide on one of its sides. The container's other side was bare of any decoration. At first glance, there looked to be a single animal in it... along with being rather beautifully marked, it was about eight inches long.
"What is this?" he asked. The out-and-about animal's head, legs, feet, and tail were orange. It had an orange line going down the center of its back; there was a line of orange dots going down the length of its sides. The rest of the animal was black.
"My Emperor Newts," Lazeer said. He picked the container's one hide up; the number of animals that he thought were in it was upped from one to three.
The next container was set-up much like that of the first one. Like with the large and deep water bowl, the soil and moss substrate was deep—but not deep enough for the cage's critters to bury themselves in. The plants were the same ones that the Emperor Newts had in their enclosure; it also had a hide in it. There were two critters in this container—both were very uniquely marked, but one was bigger than the other. One of the two critters was nearly yellow while the other had thin, black patches and stripes between its yellow markings. One of the critters was seven inches long, while the other was six and a half inches long.
"Went to Spain to find these." his son said. "They're called Salamandra salamandra bernardezi—Fire Salamanders, dad."
"Rather uniquely patterned, son." he said.
"Believe it or not, they change their patterns as they grow. They start out as being mostly black, with thin, yellow stripes and patches, then, as they age, the yellow markings grow and the black background between them shrink." Lazeer said.
"Very cool, son." even though he had no interest in amphibians, he still composed himself well in regards to his son's interest.
The next container had five of the same species that he was just shown in it. Unlike the other container, that was appropriately set-up for the animals that were in it, this one had a simple paper towel on its bottom and a small, clay bowl in its center. Like with the other two containers, this one had a single hide in it. It was quite evident that this cage's critters were the offspring of the two that he was just shown—there were five, mostly black, Fire Salamanders in it that had thin, yellow stripes and spots on them. Each of the baby salamanders were around two inches in size. His son, quite surprisingly, claimed to of seen three of the five animals be born.
As his son put the three containers away, he went to look at the bookcase that was to the left of the bedroom door. When he got to it, he saw that it wasn't a bookcase—it was a normal, brown oak bedside table. Like with the bookcase, it had a glass cage, that looked seemingly similar to the one that had the moss-like polliwogs in it, on it. He really shouldn't of been but so surprised over finding that his son had more polliwogs in his care... what got him was what the cage's occupants looked like.
The cage was set-up almost like that of the moss-like polliwogs' own, and it looked like all of its occupants were healthy. The polliwogs ranged in size, from nearly two to three inches, and all of them were green in color. What got him was the fact that he could see the innards of the two animals that were "stuck" to the cage's swing-out doors—due to their translucent skin, he could see their small, red hearts beating. He could also see their intestines and livers. The one polliwog, that was on a bend-a-branch, had large, wild, hypnotic-like eyes on it; a quick check of the other polliwogs showed that they also had them types of eyes.
"Uh, Lazeer, are these... things suppose to look like this?" he asked as he stepped away from the cage that had the green polliwogs in it.
"Yes—those're called Glass Frogs. Got them a few months ago." his son replied.
The final things that he took in were on two, long shelves. One was between the room's bed and flat screen tv. It had five things on it: a very finely detailed model of a WWII German Battle Cruiser Scharnhorst; a glass bottle that contained a model of a Viking Long boat; a model of a Cruise Ship; a model of a Lobster boat; and seven books—most, of which, were either on frogs or amphibians. One of the seven books was about jokes while another was about hunting records. The other shelf, which was to the right of the room's one window, was... quite full.
The first thing that he looked at on this shelf was a model of a dinosaur. It had several rows of short spikes running down the length of the back of its neck. Beside it sat a model of a transparent alien—he gave this a good, long, look before moving on. A resin model of a Dilophosaurus was beside the transparent alien, and a resin model of two Tyrannosaurus Rex's, that were fighting over a carcass, was beside it.
"Looks very similar to the Predator." he thought after going to look at the next model.
He knew the 1987 film well. One of his staff had left his copy on the Employee Lounge's coffee table one day; Eshal, not knowing any better, had taken and watched it. She was scared of anything that resembed the film's depicted villain for all of a month before returning to being like normal. When he saw the model, that was beside the one of the two Tyrannosaurus Rex's, he automatically made the connection—while it represented the Predator, it also showed him fighting a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
"Good Gods! What in the Dickens is this, Lazeer?" he asked. He was now looking at a headbust of a skull that looked... very melted and disgusting.
"That's the Tarman—from the movie Return of the Living Dead." his son replied.
Four resin models, one of a pack of Velociraptors, one of a Baryonyx, one of a Tyrannosaurus Rex that was taking down a Triceratops, and one of the Predator astride an "alien" horse, were beside the... Tarman model. Lazeer said that the model that was beside the Predator who was astride his "alien" horse was of the Cross-Eyed Monster that was in Caveman The Movie. Lazeer also claimed that the model that was beside that one was of a Goro monster; the model, that was beside the "Goro" monster, was of something that his son called a "Furufuru"—his son didn't explain what that was and he didn't ask what it was either. A resin model representation of the La Brea Tar Pit, that was located in Los Angeles, California, was beside the "Furufuru" model; it had a Smilodon, a Dire wolf, and a Mastodon on it.
"Ah no! He hasn't seen it and he doesn't have a model of it!"
He had seen the movie Pumpkinhead once before and, honestly, he had no desire to see it again—it just so figured that the model, that he was now looking at, was of the gigantic, spindly demonic monster that was only summoned to reek revenge on the souls who harmed either the one close to or the offspring of the summoner. He looked at this model for only a second before moving on to look at the what was underneath the shelf.
"Oh yes. I can see his witty sense of humor in this." he thought after looking at the sign that was both a dark silver color and had black bordering on it. The sign said Youngest Child: The Rules Don't Apply To Me—with Lazeer being the way he was, he wasn't but so surprised to see that he had a sign like this in his room.
Lazeer claimed that, with the exception of the first dinosaur model, all of the models that were on the second shelf were given to him as Christmas presents. The same was said of the aluminum sign.
"After you're moved to Moas, you'll probably need more than two shelves to display all of these." he said of the models that he just looked at.
"Probably'll need a dozen," his son returned.
"Or, scratch that, I'll probably just get a door added to the side of your chamber—the one that's beside yours is empty; you can use it to display your models in." he said quickly.
"Dad," Lazeer said. Since they were talking on the issue of Moas, and since his father had noticed that he had pets, he figured that it was time to ask the question on how his pets were going to get to Moas. Frogs and salamanders were rather complex, delicate creatures—they were suspectible to just about everything. "You think the frogs and salamanders will survive the "journey"?"
"Yes, I think they will. I know a spell that'll put them in a temporary stasis for up to a week—except for being ravenous, they won't be harmed; it'll be like a lengthy nap for them." he answered.
After his sons left to do as they spoke of doing that morning, he decided to take up the room that they made in the basement. He spent two hours in that room before coming up to resume his seat in the living room; instead of watching the news, or some silly, and downright boring, soap, he channel surfed. He watched three, thirty-minute episodes of some show called The Waltons before getting up to help his wife do the laundry. He and Angel had just finished the laundry when Eshal came towards them; after hearing her tell a rather shocking tale of what came from Lhaklar's mouth, and on what he befriended, he went to re-take his seat on the sectional. He had no more sat down when his youngest son came home.
Like he said, he had no intention of having his sons part with any of their possessions—that included pets. While he'd prefer for his mansion to remain clean and orderly, he couldn't see himself as separating his sons from what they owned. What kind of father would he be if he up and said alright kids, pack up your things but leave all pets behind? A pretty damn bad one—while he was strict on some areas, he wasn't an overly strict parent and he wasn't like his father at all. His father, DuruVile Bolushi Surfeit, would, without a doubt, say for his sons to drop all of what they owned. He wouldn't put it past the old bastard to torch all of what his sons had, to tell the truth. His father was a rough, tough, old man who held control and firm discipline a bit too high up on his list; while them things were also on his list, he didn't over-do or cause harm or pain with them. His father also regarded being funny or comical wrongly; he preferred for one to be minimal in their jokes or comical actions. He wasn't like that at all; if his sons wanted to be funny, or comical, he'd let them... as long as they were respectful while doing so, that was.
He left his youngest son's room after taking in the mass-amount of models that were on the two, long shelves. Whether it was by coincidence, or just a matter of one of his son's pets wanting to say goodbye to him, he didn't know but, a high-piercing polliwog call was cast at his backside right when he exited the room. Both he and his son laughed at the frog's choice-time in making its call.