"Gunna answer that?" his buddy, Kiefer Kassmeyer, asked.
"Sure has a funny ringtone to it." Kiefer's twin brother, Killian, said.
"No thank you. I'd prefer to stay alive today." Lazeer responded to Kiefer's question.
If not for it being four inches long by three inches wide, and being silver in color, it'd be normal. With the phone being shorter and wider than a tv remote, it wasn't normal. He agreed with Killian—it did have a funny ringtone to it! He and his friends had leaped for the roof after the jingle sound, followed by the scratchy-screechy one, was heard; along with jumping, and then turning to stare at it, they stopped playing the game that was before them.
The Kassmeyer twins, and Eli Mendelsohn, had made the decision to come over today. After receiving their call, then seeing them after answering the door, he neither said anything negative or stopped them from coming in. His friends knew what was going on in his home; they weren't reluctant to come in, and they weren't fazed by the fact of their being "in the company" of his father—who was the only parent of his to be home right now. When his friends were let in, he noticed that two of them had games on them. Kiefer and Killian had gotten two games for Christmas; for the last few months, they were itching to get everyone together to play them. With all of what was going on, neither he nor Eli were able to join them in trying them out.
The Kassmeyer's were fast in putting that to bed. A call to Eli was made, then a call to him was made, then they came over; for the most part, the Kassmeyer's had invited themselves, and Eli, over. He hadn't had any say on whether or not they could come over. In a way, he was glad that they did—this was a perfect chance for him to see how his father reacted to people who dropped by without putting ample warning in first. As far as he could tell, the man was just annoyed over the three popping in without notice.
"Dad was in the kitchen when they were let in." he thought while waiting for his turn to play the game to come around. "When I brought my friends over for introducing, he had just gotten through making himself, and Eshal, a grilled cheese sandwich."
Bile and Eshal were also in the kitchen, but for different reasons. With their mother at work, their father decided to take on the chore of teaching Eshal how to cook; like Lhaklar, he was surprised over how little his sister knew on how to work a stove or cook a meal. Here he was, the youngest of his siblings, and he had good knowledge on how to work a stove. The same went on how to cook a meal for both himself and his family.
"While dad was working on teaching Eshal how to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich, Bile was taking a one-serving, pepperoni, sausage, and green pepper pizza from the oven."
After introducing his friends to his father and sister, he led them to the living rom. A folding table, then four of the dining room chairs, was retrieved then the 3D map board for Game of Thrones was set-up then they started playing. His father had come in on them twice now; his cellular was left on the coffee table a little under five minutes ago. Where his father was now, he didn't know. He did think that it was odd that the man left his phone behind—he usually kept up with the many items that he kept on his person.
Before the game was started, a euro coin was flipped. He won the Kingdom of the North by simple default—he wanted the Kingdom of the Isles and Rivers but, sadly, Kiefer had won that one. Killian had won the Kingdom of the Stormlands while Eli was left with the Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale. So far, he was getting the tar beat out of him; Eli and the younger of the Kassmeyer twins were also being beat, but not as badly as he, though.
"Think you're about to lose Deepwood Motte, Lazeer." Kiefer, who had a small "platoon" near the castle, that sat to the northwest of Winterfell, that was in Wolfswood, near the coast of the Bay of Ice, said.
"Come on, man!" Lazeer moped. "You took Flint's Finger, Hornwood, and Ironrath. Attack someone else's castle, I've only got two remaining."
"Now one." Kiefer said evilly. He placed a red flag on the castle that was just taken from his control.
"That's okay. You left a fine opening for me to take Greywater Watch and Moat Cailin." Lazeer said after rolling the dice. He found himself as taking a fleet of four horsemen and soldiers towards the figurine of a castle ruin that stood in the center of his friend's area.
"Damn you, Lazeer!" Kiefer exclaimed. "Those're my two favorite castles."
"The game's tide seems to be swinging from you." Killian smiled. He rolled the dice, then moved two places closer to the capital of Eyrie, which was in the Kingdom of the Mountain and the Vale.
A series of cards were held in each of their hands; after rolling the dice, then moving their men forward the number of times that they told them to, then taking a card per step that they took after rolling them, they looked at them. He was quick in throwing three of the four cards that he took from the stack down. The card of the red dragon was very strong, as was the one of the blue icicle. The card that had a cavalry charge on it was the strongest of the three, though. He placed a blue flag on Greywater Watch castle soon after throwing the cards down; Kiefer scowled at him almost at once. Soon after claiming Greywater Watch as his, Eli threw two cards down on the map board. The card of the horseman's charge and the card of the catapult allowed him to claim the closest castle that his figurines were near—which was Castle Cerwyn, which was in the Kingdom of the Stormlands.
Kiefer found himself as having to relinquish ten of the game's paper money. Two of the cards that he took from the stack said that he sustained "damages" to three of his wagons. He was required to pay for them to be repaired before being allowed to move forward again. Two of Kiefer's sea vessels had to be returned to port too—again, "damages" were noted on them. Killian found himself as having to pay for the "damages" that were made on his two returned-to-port vessels too.
"I'm still going to beat you losers." Kiefer said.
"Let's not be but so sure of yourself," Eli said as he rolled the dice.
The game, for him, ended five minutes later. Kiefer took his final castle, which meant that he didn't have anything to protect. He made a pout face after his friend's "troops" swarmed in to take his final stronghold, then watched as his friends finished the game. Non-surprisingly, Kiefer beat his brother five minutes later then, not long after that, he swarmed in to take all of Eli's claimed areas. After the older of the twins won the game, the game was put away; the other was taken out and then set-up. This one was very similar to Battle Ship. The only difference to that old timey game? It consisted of more than three fold-out tablets, all of which were 3D after being turned on and could only be seen by the one who was playing it. It could also be played by more than two persons at a time. He set his tablet up quickly, then selected the areas where he wanted his ships to be, then waited for his friends to do the same.
He didn't know if it was luck or fate, but, right after the first "boom" was heard from their playing tablets, his father walked into the room. He and his friends hid the chuckles after the man stopped short; the old foggy looked all over the place—his stomach hurt after he did that. he had never held in the chuckles so hard before in his life—before going towards his phone, which had since stopped ringing.
"Orange X means that I came close to hitting something, right?" Eli asked.
"Uh," Kiefer grabbed the instruction manual then read the section on how to play the game. "Yeah. Blue X means that you didn't hit anything. Green X means that, while you still didn't hit anything, there's something in that area. Purple X means that you're close to where a ship is. Orange X means that you're very close to hitting a ship. Red X means that you hit a ship. If you see a Black Oval, that means you sunk a ship."
"I came very close to hitting one of your ships." Eli sang, then did a little dance in his chair that made all of them laugh.
After entering the room that his son and his friends were in, he was reminded of the conversation that he and this "child psychologist" had. It was two weeks after Lazeer was born when this woman approached and then told him that people who were born prematurely weren't as social as ones who were born at or around the appropriate gestation; she told him to not expect for his son to be very social if he survived his too-early birth. He wished that she was in the building; Lazeer looked just as social as his brothers were and there didn't seem to be any form of hesitancy on his part to become involved with others.
"Bet my father would like the games that they're playing." he thought while taking his phone up from where it was. "He likes anything that revolves around battle... What they're playing would be up his ally."
Though annoyed over not being told that company was coming over, he didn't show it. His son's company was allowed to come in, be introduced, then get comfortable. Lazeer, despite being the younger of his four sons, seemed to be a very confident young man. He was right proud of that—that "psychologist" had also said that premature babies grew into non-confident people; he had good proof that proved her wrong.
His son, and his friends, were around halfway done in playing the first game when he decided to leave the room. Father intuition had told him to go upstairs; with his wife at work, he was the only logical one around to settle any quarrels that happened with the boys—it just so happened that his feeling revolved around that happening. Upon his exit of the stairs, he found that Hazaar and Guyunis were going at it. He got there just in the nick of time to prevent their normal, verbal altercation from turning into a physical one.
While he knew that Hazaar and Lazeer were in the throes of the Temperamental phase, he knew nothing on Guyunis experiencing it—with what just happened, he was close to saying that he was.
He had just reached the top of the stairs when Hazaar swung at his brother. Guyunis, who seemed to be a right quick kid, had managed to dodge the hit. He rushed forward to put a stop to the fight right when Guyunis started acting like he was going to grab and then throw Hazaar against the wall. His secondborn son, after seeing him, had backed off—after saying a few naughty words, and throwing his arms towards the ceiling, that was. Guyunis, though, had turned towards him. The spell that would cause any and all sounds or noises that happened in a specific area in a residence to not be heard anywhere else was done after that happened; he didn't have a desire for anyone else to become involved in what was happening on the level.
"Five days ago, Angel and I discussed matters on who can act parental with Guyunis." he thought after separating the two boys.
He was told to take it easy on Guyunis after receiving permission to be the paternal body with him. With the permission granted to him, he started acting in a paternal sense towards the boy. Right now, he was just trying to get him under control and establish a sort of rank with him—with Guyunis's real father not wanting to be apart of his son's life, and with his seemingly fallen from the face of the Universe, he saw himself as being the next logical choice in being a paternal figure to him.
Guyunis, who had yet to start trusting him, hadn't seen reason in his coming up to put a stop to his and his brother's fight. A bunch of words were spewed from his mouth, then he pushed him back twice, then he started acting like he was going to hit him. He did as he thought was right in grabbing the wrist that was flung at him; a mild subduing, his telling the kid to both cool it and go to his room, then a light push occurred. Nothing really serious had happened between them. Guyunis ran off to his room after being released from his hold.
"If he's to live with us on Moas, and be regarded appropriately, he needs to get a better grip on himself. With me playing the part of his daddy, he'll learn to do so." he thought after the boy went on his way.
While his wife was an extraordinary woman, and seemed to have a good handle on the raising of her young, she did require some assistance from a man and... well, since he was available, and wasn't regarding Guyunis in the same light that his father was, he was up to the job in being a sort of daddy to him. He wasn't about to abuse the priviledge given to him; he was planning on being with him like he was with Bile.
His action of going upstairs was done so fast that he left his cellular behind. His phone was where he left it—on the coffee table. When he picked it up, he was quick to see that he missed a call. He flipped the phone's top up, then grabbed the stylus touch pen from its accustomed place on its side, then started the process of seeing who it was that called. As fate would have it, he no more placed the stylus's soft end on the phone's screen when the little envelope that said he got a text was seen. He pressed the pen's soft end to the envelope then set in on reading what was sent to him after seeing it on his screen.
May 26, 4101, 1:25 PM
Ubalki, Cheshire Keueitt; 912-767-0956
Took five hearings, but I got what I wanted from that stir-fried nitwit of a nephew of yours. Even though he had cuffs placed on him, and was carted to Agraduz, he posted bail. A record for unnecessary assault was placed in his file, I presume that he'll have it for the rest of his life. Hope all is well on your end; haven't heard much from you on the boys, or on Angel and Eshal.
Vile should not of been allowed to post bail. With the assault that he paid on Amadh, he should of been thrown and then kept in jail for a while. Amadh had come very, very close to being crippled by his nephew; Vile had burned almost all of his suction cups from all of his fingers on the seventeenth of April—that, to him, should warrant more than what his nephew was given. If not for the plastic surgeon that his stepfather took his son to see, Amadh would still be in considerable pain. He would of also lost all chance of being able to work his father's farm, live a normal life, and use his powers. He was glad that his stepfather won his case; the one that he had against his nephew was still going on. He was warring his nephew in court on his assault of Lhaklar and Hazaar for weeks now and, so far, none of the courts were reaching a verdict that he was content with.
He pulled the keyboard out from under the phone's pull-out screen then started typing a response to his stepfather's text. With the exception of his leaving out most of how he and Guyunis were faring, he was truthful of what was happening on his end. It took five texts to get it all out. After sending the final text, he placed the phone back in its appropriate pocket then turned to look at his son and his friends.
"Two of them are, with a shadow of a doubt, twins." he thought after looking at the two identical youths.
The two boys had dark skin—the planet had a race of people on it that were commonly called Africans; the two boys sure resembled that race—and dark eyes. The one named Kiefer had his hair set in a "dreadlock" fashion, while his brother's was braided. Kiefer was wearing jeans, a blue t-shirt, and blue tennis shoes; while Killian was also wearing jeans, he had an orange and red shirt on over his top half and a pair of black sneakers on his feet. Kiefer and Killian Kassmeyer were a little over five foot, eleven inches tall; Lazeer had said something about their being fifteen years old.
Eli Mendelsohn, from what he was told, was six months older than the Kassmeyer twins. He had near bleach-white skin, black hair, and green eyes. Most curiously, he was wearing mascara and black lipstick; his fingernails were also black. He was wearing nothing but black—Lazeer had introduced him as his "Goth Friend", which seemed appropriate, considering his wardrobe. Of the three boys, Eli and Killian were the most shy while Kiefer was the most open-minded...and mouthed. He wondered for all of two seconds if that was how it was with twins—if one was more shy, or mouthy, than the other—before making the decision to go upstairs. The mail had come in twenty minutes late that afternoon; he had found himself as being quite surprised after finding two things for Bile and one thing for Lhaklar in it. The "girly" magazines were all given to Eshal; up to Angel's homecoming, she'd have them all to herself—he was glad to see that she was doing something other than "drawing" on them pillows that Bile found in one of the nearby dumps a few weeks ago. Even though Bile claimed to of cleaned them, he was still terrified of his daughter both having and being so infatuated with them.
A quick call to his wife was made after he retrieved the mail. A week and two days ago, he finally made the decision to rummage through her purse. Nothing more than a tan leather coin purse, a cellular phone, three pads—his wife was obviously experiencing that "Time of the Month" thing; he was quick in hiding them things from both his and the boys' eyes—, and a woman's brown leather wallet were found as being in it. Her cellular number was added to his directory about an hour after he sifted through her purse; he asked if it could be added and she responded with a yes. He couldn't help but be happy to of gotten such a swift response from her. According to his wife, Bile was eagerly awaiting two items that were sent in the mail last month. Lhaklar had sent out for some sort of car model about three weeks ago. With the three items in-hand, he went upstairs to personally see about delivering them to their rightful owners.
"No entry! I'm with my girlfriend; come back in an hour!" the oldest of his biological sons shouted after he reached and then knocked on his bedroom door.
"Very funny, Young Man." he said. The "girlfriend" thing, though still shocking to hear, was getting a little old now.
"Uh-uh! You're not allowed entrance, or to take my girl." his son, who now sounded to be directly behind the door, shouted.
"Something came in the mail for you today, son. Should I give it to you now or later?" he asked.
Bile exited his room right when the lock on Lhaklar's door was released. He gave his adopted son the items that he received in the mail then turned to address Lhaklar, who had a seemingly bright, I-Got-You look on his face. He gave his son a long, hard look before holding the thing that was in his hand out to him. His son took the box quickly; he was equally fast in both opening it and in taking the model that was in it out. According to the box, his son's new model was of a 1910 Ford Model "T"; his son, after seeing it, smiled.
"About damn time it came in." Lhaklar said.
"How many times a day do I need to tell you to watch what comes from—" he started to say.
"My mouth? Not sure, I don't keep track of things like that, and I can't really watch my mouth either. It's too low on my face to see." Lhaklar, who seemed to be acting a little on the smart-ass side, said.
Even though he knew he was going to have a time in correcting some of the habits that his sons had either picked up in doing or were allowed to do, he had a feeling that it was going to be Lhaklar and Hazaar who would give him the most headache after the move to Moas was done. Hazaar couldn't go around, toughing it out over just about everything or throwing tantrums or cursing his fool head off, and Lhaklar couldn't go around, running his mouth, or trying to be a smart-ass, either. Lhaklar would also have to drop the routine of thinking of himself as a "billy-badass", or as the one "in control" of all that went down under a roof, as well.
The "crossing of paths" thing seemed to be happening daily now. Lhaklar seemed to be taking advantage of his mother being either at work or busy at home—whenever he saw himself able to, or whenever the situation became "available" to him, he tried to take control of the house and everyone who lived in it. He didn't need to be told that the other boys were annoyed with Lhaklar's little habit—Hazaar and Lazeer would periodically snap, and tell their brother to "ball off" or leave them be, and Bile would do the periodic roll of the eyes thing whenever Lhaklar started in on him. Bile seemed a little more in control of himself around Lhaklar while Hazaar and Lazeer seemed to be a bit overly vocal in their annoyance over their brother's attempts to govern them. He had yet to see how Guyunis reacted to Lhaklar's attempted governing; Eshal had yet to be "targeted" by Lhaklar's little habit.
Lhaklar gave him a cheeky smile then returned to his bedroom. He, after seeing that the door was left open, and that his son had said nothing on whether or not he could come in, seized the initiative in going into the room.
"And a good example of my boy's seemingly annoying, immature ways just so happens to be hanging on the wall behind his bed." he thought after stepping into the room that his son slept and spent a considerable amount of time in.
The poster, that was above the bed, had a blonde-haired woman on it. Along with having very serious blue eyes, she was wearing a white shirt that barely covered her breasts. She was holding a shotgun towards the room; the caption, that was under her, said All Who Enter Must Admit To Who The Boss Is In This House.
An aluminum sign was to the right of the poster. It was a nice, black color; its borders were silver. The gold lettering, that was on it, said I Have A Job—I'm Exempt From the Rules. According to his wife, Lhaklar worked in one of the malls that were in the nearby city of Karlsruhe. While Lhaklar spent a lot of time outside of the house on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and while he was putting a considerable amount of paper money in the envelope that seemed to be reserved for the family funds, he had yet to discover what store it was that he worked in. The same went on what his hours were and what, exactly, he did when he was working. He had started to wonder fairly recently if his son's "job" wasn't being done somewhere else... Lhaklar had to be getting the revenue that he was bringing home from somewhere.
He looked at both items for only a second before shaking his head then looking at something else. It was the bed that he looked at next. Along with being under the poster and sign, it had a timber pine frame to it. It was up against the room's back wall. Like with the ones that were in Hazaar's and Lazeer's bedrooms, the one that was in Lhaklar's bedroom was big enough for one. The room's one window was just five inches from the bed's foot. A grayish-brown colored Bighorn sheep pelt, that had a white patch on its base or rump area, was lying across the bed's baseboard.
A half-charred, half-reclaimed pine wood stump was to the left of the bed. A plain, normal, white flexi lamp—the sort that one could bend in all sorts of directions or forms—was on its surface. A rather unique, water-filled alarm clock was beside it. There was a small bit of space between the stump-table and the top left corner, which was empty of any sort of shelving or wall decoration.
"Gramma Ashaklar would put you in a choke-hold for this." he said after noticing and then going towards the three foot tall, Gray crown crane that stood at the foot of the bed. The bird's main body was a mostly gray color, while its wings were mostly white. Its head had a crown of stiff, golden-colored feathers on it; the sides of its face were white. There was a red, inflatable throat patch on its throat. While the bill was slim and short, the legs, which were black, were long. The animal's feet were large, yet slender.
"She chokes her grandkids now? Thought she just squeeze-hugged us to death." Lhaklar said.
"She'll just about knock anyone over whenever an avian is seen." he replied.
This son of his had always had an interest in fishing. If he recalled correctly, Lhaklar, as a young toddler, had hounded him for days about taking him out on a boat so he could fish the ocean. If he wasn't available to do so, his son would turn his attention towards wanting to fish on a lake or river—back then, his son was restricted to twice weekly fishing excursions. Even though he hadn't seen his son fish as a teenager, he knew that he still enjoyed the activity. A prime example of this knowledge was being looked at now; a rather pretty fish, that had a multi-red and orange base color, that had lots of pink, purple, and black dots on it, was to the right of the room's window. This fish had a rather large mouth—he was automatically dumbstruck when he saw it had several, sharp teeth in its mouth! When he asked his son what it was, he received the response of it being a Coral Trout. A rather impressive Bezoar Ibex rack was under the Coral Trout; the super long horns, which were on a brightly polished piece of wood, curved almost all the way around. There were distinct ridges on both of them. He looked at the horns for only a second before moving on to looking at the poster that was beside them, and at the fish that was under them.
"Looks very normal..." he thought while looking at the poster.
The poster had a fisherman on it, who looked to be reeling in a seemingly large bass. The caption, that was under the man, said A Fisherman Brings Home Wonderful Sea Tales; Both Of The True And Fake Sort. Can You Detect A Fisherman's Ruse? He knew right off the bat what the caption meant; people who came back with either a small catch or with nothing were very famous for telling tall-tales that would make their trip/experience seem more colorful or successful. He wasn't surprised over seeing that his son had a poster of this caliber in his room. Unlike the other poster, and the sign that was beside it, he was in full approval of it.
A timberland Cedar log dresser, that had six drawers on it, was to the right of the room. Another 30" flat screen tv was over it. A medium-sized King Mackerel, a fish that had an olive coloration on the back, that faded to a silver color, with rosy iridescence on the sides, that faded yet again to a white color on the belly, was mounted above the tv. This fish was quite streamlined; when he gave it a closer look, he saw that it, too, had a mouth of small, sharp teeth.
"Quite impressive Bison head you have here, son." he said after seeing the Bison head, that was to the right of the dresser and tv. The fur, that was around the animal's face, was coarse, shaggy, and light brown in color. The horns, that were on it, were of the slightly curved sort; they had a length of nearly two feet. While the specimen was impressive in itself, he was further impressed by how the wall was holding up against its weight—the head, alone, weighed a lot. "Find it somewhere?"
"Nope, that's from one of my hunts." his son replied.
"You're kidding me!" he said, dumbfounded.
"Nope, took that down in May of last year. Had a good ol' time in catching the animal. Returned to "camp" with a set of bloody arms... and with a punctured leg."
Hearing this piece of information alarmed him. Angel claimed to of trained the boys on how to hunt and she also claimed that they were exceptional hunters... Lhaklar's claim of being injured from one of his hunts seemed to contradict this. He made a mental note to not allow this son of his anywhere near any hunting equipment and he also made a mental note to dis-allow this son of his from being allowed to hunt after having him returned to Moas. It wouldn't look good on his parenting résumé if his son returned home from a hunt that he allowed him to partake in while being injured... nor would it do his son any good to return home being injured, or dead.
He pushed his alarm over his son's reported injuries to the side then went to look at the Bighorn sheep head that was on the other side of the dresser and tv. He found that it was just as impressive as the Bison head, and that it was being very well cared for. The head, that he was looking at, was a grayish-brown color; the horns, that were on it, were large and curved in a near perfect circle. The fur was very shiny; not a speck of dust was seen on it. The horns, likewise, were quite shiny; it looked like his son was taking very good care of this trophy.
There were two fish on the wall, near the room's bottom right corner. The first was decently-sized; it had irregular scales dotting all along its body. It's back and sides were an olive-green color, while its belly was off-white. Quite interestingly, its mouth had a sucker-like appearance to it; there were two, little barbels on either side of it. The second fish, which was on the room's front-facing wall, had four, tooth-like protrusions in its mouth. With the exception of the greenish color that was on its back, it was a bright, grayish-silver color. This fish was around twenty inches long; if he had to make any guesses, it weighed around ten or so pounds. Lhaklar claimed that the first fish was called a Mirror Carp; he claimed that the other was a Zander. He was quite surprised when his son said that they were caught on the eighth of November—his son didn't dispute him when he asked if they were caught before he was viciously attacked.
"These once belonged on a Barbary sheep, right?" he asked after seeing the fairly smooth, multi-curved horns that were above the door.
"Yeah. Caught three of them, but only thought about keeping the horns from one of them." Lhaklar answered. "Got grounded after catching them; mom's got a rule when it comes to us hunting. Unless we get permission to hunt an area that's a distance from home, we hunt the areas near home. No exceptions. I broke that rule; got two weeks in the hole."
And, if his son wasn't obeying the instructions that he was given on how to conduct his hunts, he definitely didn't need to be hunting. His son's claim put further emphasis on his placing his foot down on his not doing anymore hunting.
"What in the Universe is this!" he exclaimed after noticing the room's fifth-displayed, taxidermied fish.
"That's a Goliath Tiger Fish; it's commonly found in Africa. Caught that, and two others, in the Congo River." his son replied.
The fish, that was to the left of the bedroom door, was a large one—along with being two and a half feet long, it was stocky and heavy-looking. Its skin was a mixture of green, yellow, gray, and brown on top; the belly was white. Like with the Coral Trout and Zander, it had teeth in its mouth... but they were much more pronounced! It had, at least, two to two and a half inch long teeth in its mouth—that was warrant enough for him to give the animal more than a two minute stare.
A brown oak corner desk, with matching chair, was in the lower left corner. There were two shelves above it that had two mason jars, model paints, and glue on them. There were two, short shelves on the wall between the corner desk and closet; it looked like yet another interest that his son had when he was a young child was still on-going. His son, as a young child, didn't do the models that were still in his old chamber; he did them for him. Lhaklar was at his shoulder the entire time that he was putting them together.
There were a few car models on the shelves; he took his sweet time in looking at them.
The model, that was on the bottom shelf, was gold painted. It was based off the 1955 Chrysler ST Special Coupe... or the Luxury Chryon, which was, at one time, made and then distributed all over the Universe. The Luxury Chryon had a good, long run of nearly a hundred thousand years before dying down in hype. The next model that he looked at was of a 1902 Rambler Model C Runabout—he had heard many a tale about how his great-great grandfather, IackVile Uovo Surfeit, had loved this car; at one time in the man's life, he had a garage that housed around two or three of it. His great-great grandfather, who was so fond of this car, had forbade his two older sons—RosolVile Yilsivoor Surfeit and TrobrencusVile Bloym Surfeit—from going so much as a foot near them. Iack had a fancy for his preferred vehicle to be red; it just so happened that his son's model was that color. A silver and red 2012 Bufori MKIII La Joya was beside the Rambler; a vehicle that he had never seen before was beside it.
"What's this model of?" he asked his son.
"That's the Boothill Express—it's a type of custom-made, hearse-like vehicle. It was based off the 1850 horse-drawn funeral coach."
The last model that was on the shelf was a dark blue painted, 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T—this type of car was completely Earth-made and used; there were no other vehicles like it in the Universe. The shelf above had seven models on it... three, of which, were oddly placed. The light blue, 1952 Hudson Hornet was very finely made; this vehicle was, at one time, called the Ricorocket. His great-grandfather, RaalVile Dawlur Surfeit, was said to be a fan of this type of car. His great-grandfather was also said to of owned more than one of this type of car in his lifetime. A model that was based off, what he called, the ugliest vehicle known in existence, was beside the Hudson Hornet; the 1955 Buick Roadmaster was black and white painted... like the Dodge Challenger, it was a completely Earth-made and used vehicle. A model of a blue, but quite "rusty", "weathered" 1956 Chevy Nomad was beside the Buick model. He was surprised over seeing it—it stuck out like a sore thumb among the other models. A red painted model of a 1969 Ford Mustang was beside the "weathered" Chevy model... the ones that were beside it were the oddly-placed ones.
The movie Jaws was quite a sensation after its theatrical debut; Angel had "forced" him into watching it one day after Eshal, Bile, and Lhaklar were put down for a nap. He was, in a sense, on the fence about it; while he wasn't a fan of it, he was intrigued by it. It just so happened that his son had a model of Jaws attacking the shark hunter aka Quint on one of the shelves. A model of a green, alien girl, who had long ears, and was wearing a very skimpy, near see-through outfit, and who looked to be dancing with a chain, was beside the Jaws model; the model that was beside it looked to depict a slave girl, who, again, was wearing a very skimpy outfit. The slave girl was fighting off a giant snake, which his son painted a striped, red and green color.
He went towards the room's contemporary oak bookcase, that had five shelves on it, next. He was quick in seeing that his son's smaller hunting trophies were on it; he set to work in looking at them. At the time of his going towards the bookcase, his son was putting the pieces of his new model on his desk. It was very obvious that he was to build it soon.
"Like father, like fuckin' son!" he thought after seeing the sword that was on the bookcase's top shelf.
The sword, that he was looking at, had a heavy resemblance to his own—it was glass-like but, instead of the blade having gold dust floating in it, there was blue dye in it. There were holes all throughout the glass-like blade. The holes, that were on the grip and pommel, were small. The blade of his sword, a Moas Deep Special, was empty of both water and gold dust on the day of its purchase; after seeing a demonstration on how strong and durable it was, and then purchasing it, he took it home then filled it with both water and gold dust—the latter, of which, he got from the vault that was in his mansion. He wondered for all of two seconds if his son's sword was already filled or not with the water and dye that was in it before moving on to look at the contents that were on the second shelf.
A mini stereo and speakers, the likes that, yet again, resembled that of Hazaar's and Lazeer's own, were on this shelf. There were around twenty or so music discs, and a plethora of magazines, beside it.
For some reason, he was directed towards the fourth shelf of his son's bookcase next. The first item that he looked at was a preserved Meerkat; the small, Mongoose-like animal had a long, slender body and a face that tapered off, coming to a point at the nose, which was brown. The preserved animal's eyes were small, black, and crescent-shaped; they had black patches around them. The animal was a mostly peppered-gray color; it had four toes on the ends of each of its long, slender legs. A well-furred, rotund Hyrax, that had a short tail and red-brown fur, was beside the Meerkat. Quite surprisingly, there were three model cars beside the Hyrax—a silver-painted, Jaguar X150 DHC, that had a canopy-like roof on it; a blue and silver painted, 1935 Duesenberg SSJ, that had a tire mount on the trunk; and a blue-painted 1928 Mercedes-Benz SSK convertible, that also had a tire mount on its trunk.
The last shelf of the bookcase had three trophies on it. A preserved Mohol bushbaby, a small primate that had grayish-brown fur, that was lighter on the limbs and trunk, over-sized ears, and a long tail; a Shoebill, a mostly brown bird, that had an unusually large bill, that was mostly yellow with blue and black dots on it; and a Pardine Genet, an animal that had a long, lean and slender body that had a series of dark spots and stripes over a near-white coat. After looking at that shelf, he directed his eyes towards the one that he found himself as not being able to look at.
"One of the maids, nearly a year ago, said that my library was lacking some of its usually kept books." he said after seeing that the third shelf had ten books on it... five, of which, were the ones that were noted as being missing.
Anger, the type that made a being feel ten degrees hotter, roared all throughout his body after he saw the books that were on the shelf. While true, he would much prefer for his sons to not steal from anyone, he didn't like the idea of Lhaklar running off with the books that he just found in his possession. He could look past Karvok Vorgrek's The Art of the Run, and Shaha Sajuni's Acidic Advancement and Zetakin Race Powers and Abilities, and Homami Zonsa's History of the Universe, but he couldn't look past him having Glethov Wystak's Time Warp and Other Specialty Powers.
Lhaklar was seen as using the Time Warp ability on the eighth of April; he came close to having a heart attack after learning that he used that ability... He had worried for days on whether or not his son had gotten stuck while in transit from the three locations that he wanted to go to. It looked like the source of what was behind his son's one-time noted use of the ability was found; he took the book that was authored by Glethov Wystak from the shelf, said the spell that sent it back to his place, then took a deep breath in.
There was nothing abnormal about the other things that were on the shelf. Henry Gregston's 1000 Years of Classic Cars looked to be a book on nothing but cars; William Drewel's Wiley's Book of Fish Records looked to be a book that cataloged the records of the fish that were caught over a period of time; Willis Robert's Fishermen Tales Volume 2 looked to be a book that cataloged specific tales that fishermen were known to make after returning from their fishing excursions; and Feo Armandt's Gone Fins: The Fish That No Longer Exist looked to be a book that cataloged the fish that were no longer found on the planet. The red-spined book, that was beside Gone Fins: The Fish That No Longer Exist, had no title on it. There was a brown wood stand just before all of these books; his son's wand was resting rather nicely on it. A knife that had a twisted blade on it was to the left of the wand while, to the wand's left, was a green glass throwing knife, that had an Eagle's head for the pommel.
"Lhaklar..." he said after taking that deep breath in then feeling his body temperature drop a few degrees.
"Yeah?"
"Do daddy a favor and forget all that you've read in Glethov Wystak's Time Warp and Other Specialty Powers please." he said.
With his father going around, looking into this room and that room, and poking and prodding for every little detail on his and his brothers' lives, he should of known to be prepared for him to check into his room. Instead of leaving certain items in the spots that they were placed on after they were given to him—the mostly pornographic in origin book that he got from Hazaar last Christmas, and two of his posters and the one sign, for example—, he should of taken them down or said a spell that'd make them not be seen by anyone of the adult, male gender. Instead of doing that, he left everything where it was. His father had already taken note of his having some of the books that he took from his library and, as expected, he saw his posters and the sign. While his father didn't say anything on the one poster and sign, he did say—and do—something that referred to the one that was on the closet door.
He and his brothers were "testing" the waters with the man for the last few days. Like with the old man, they knew nothing about him; they had seen to "testing" him out on a few areas soon after he was given "permission" to act "paternal" with Guyunis. They knew that Lazeer's friends coming over without a forewarning was a sort of test, and they also knew that Hazaar's and Guyunis's "fight" in the hallway was also a test. His joking around about his having a girlfriend in his room was also a sort of test. Bile had also given the man a sort of test in the room that their mother continued to call the "Son Cave". The man had just about dropped dead from a brain aneurysm after Bile started lifting weights—even though Bile had considerable difficulty in lifting anything that was over a hundred and twenty pounds, he could lift a ninety and a hundred pound weight with ease; Bile had just started lifting a hundred and five pound weight when the man's egg was laid. Bile was ordered to put the weight down; when the order wasn't adhered, the man rushed over. The weight was taken from Bile's grasp and then sent to some area that none of them knew of. The spare fifty pound weights were also sent to some undisclosed location. They had just the twenty to thirty pound weights to work with now.
His father took one look at the poster that was on the back of his closet door before stomping over. The poster, which had a green-eyed, blonde-haired woman, who's hair was partially braided, on it, was swiftly taken down. Even though the poster's model was wearing absolutely nothing, nothing could really be seen on her. Oh, her legs were spread just a bit, and her ass could be seen, and, owing to them arms of hers, which were holding her top half up just a bit, a little bit of her pink-colored nipples could be seen... everything was mostly concealed on her, though. There was really no reason to get antsy over the poster at all. His father took it down, then said the spell that'd make it become flimsy, then rolled it up before turning to leave the room; he intercepted him just before he could reach the door.
"Don't start it with me, Lhaklar." his father said in a warning tone. "There's—"
"Mom's come into this room plenty of times; she's seen that poster and—" he started to say.
"Step out of the way, Lhaklar. There's no way in hell that I'll believe that she's seen and then allowed for you to have a poster that has a naked woman on it." his father said.
The poster being taken from him wasn't really what got to him; it was his father saying that he didn't care if his mother gave him permission or allowed him to have or display it in his room that got his blood boiling. He placed his hand on his father's arm; intending only to get his attention, and then to tell him to not speak of his mother—who he honestly regarded with a whole lot more respect—like he just did. He found himself cringing, and then shrinking back, right after his hand was placed on the man. His father turned on a dime; his broken, left arm was in his clutches. He could almost feel the fracture lines singing and then bursting free from their set-to places.
"Do not disrespect me, Lhaklar." his father snarled, then released him.
The anger that suddenly filled him was zapped right out of his system after his father held the poster to the side. Flames, as red and hot as can be, engulfed the paper and the cardboard that it was taped to. His father brushed his hands together after torching the poster then said that he was grounded for a week; after doing them two things, he shot his hand towards his corner desk. All of the pieces and parts of his 1910 Ford Model "T" disappeared from where they were; where they went, or what his father did with them, he didn't know.
After his father left the room, he did the only thing that he could think of doing. He raced forward, towards the door, then grabbed and slammed it shut. He then locked it. After doing them things, he collected the ashes of his poster; with there being a little over an hour before his mother came home, he set himself down to listening to some music—if his model was still on his desk, he would of done it while waiting for her to come home. While listening to Ray Charles, then Michael Jackson, then Diana Ross and the Supremes, he worked on calming himself. He also made up a battle plan on what he was going to do after getting his model back.
He had just finished making the decision to paint his model a dark green color when the horn of his mother's car was heard; while he didn't so much as leap from his bed, he did get up quickly. He went to his still-closed and locked bedroom door, opened it, then left his room. Bile was leaving his room at the same time; he grabbed him by the arm then asked if he could put a bug in their mother's ear about his wanting to see and speak with her. His brother asked no questions on why he was making such a request. He just said that he'd pass the word along before going on his way. He went back to his room after asking his brother to get their mother's attention for him.
"I apologize, mom. I don't mean to throw things at you right after you've come home from work." he thought as he went to examine his still badly throbbing and hurting arm.