She was big on thinking that days like today, where little to no issues were encountered, were like a needle in a haystack. Like every other working being, she relished in them and hoped that they'd happen more frequently.
Like anyone else who worked for a living, most of her day was spent in her workplace. She was stationed in the deli; if she wasn't filling orders, she was standing idly by, waiting for someone to come over to look at or make an order of what was available. The last thirty to forty minutes of her day were spent either mopping the floors or listing what needed to be restocked on certain shelves. With that day being so easy and pleasant for her, she made the decision to pick up three of U-Krop-It's "famous" deli pizzas, a few things of Mozzarella sticks, and six containers of dipping sauce; the boys, who were still dealing with their demons over their father being in the building, did need something to cool them down. She saw nothing wrong in treating them to a meal that wasn't homemade.
"The habit of me honking my horn when I'm close to home started after I saw the boys' little activity of watching me go to work." she thought while parking her car under the carport.
Each morning, after she shoved off for work, her sons either lined up or "piled" on one another before the living room windows. She didn't mind that they did this; she saw it as something that a child, who was close to their parent or parents, would do. It was very normal and she had never stopped them from doing it—she had made a point to Tazir about his leaving the boys be after they did their activity before the two windows that were in the living room. Even though she and Eshal were close, she had yet to see her perform this activity. She figured that her adopted daughter was either staying back because of Guyunis or of wanting to retain a bit of maturity.
After parking her car, she withdrew the key from the ignition then went to get out. Before leaving the vehicle, she reached over to where the pizzas, Mozzarella sticks, and dipping sauce containers were. She picked the items that were on the front passenger seat up then got out of her car; while she wasn't surprised over her husband's seemingly swift exit of the house, or of his greeting her after she reached the porch, she was surprised over not seeing her sons. While her sons were a respectful bunch, and didn't hound her the second she got in the door, they did like to play "gang-up" on the door after she came in from work from time to time. Anything that she had on her—plastic or paper bags full of stuff that she purchased on the splurge, or large food items that she brought home from her job—would be taken from her arms. Her sons would then insist on her heading upstairs to both change and rest up. She would usually make a trip to the kitchen before doing that; a small snack would be eaten, some small talk would happen between her and Tazir, and then Eshal, then she'd head up to do as they wanted her to.
"Beginning to wonder what you do at work, Angel." her husband said after she reached the door that he was holding open for her.
"Do we need to go through this again, Tazzy?" she asked him. "I do nothing other than what I'm suppose to do while at work—fill deli orders, check the inventory on shelves, restock the shelves that need restocking, mop and sweep floors, and work the cash register."
"And yet, when you come home, you're up to your elbows in something that you've decided to—" TazirVile started to say. One of the neighbors—a man by the name of Almeric Carver, who lived two doors up from them—was just leaving his vehicle when he was interrupted.
"Is there anything wrong with me bringing things back for my family, Tazir?" Angel asked. She went past him right when Mr. Carver noticed her husband's posture—Tazir was both annoyed and angry and the man was able to see this.
She went into the house then shot straight to the dining room/kitchen area. The pizzas were swiftly placed in the oven, while the Mozzarella sticks and dipping sauce containers were placed in the microwave. With those items squared away, she went back to where the living room was; she saw something while on the way to the kitchen that she wanted to check into. While she and her husband were quiet when they passed by one another, they didn't keep their hands to themselves—with her husband acting a little on the non-trusting side with her, she started throwing him her purse each day after she came in from work. She didn't slow up or blink an eye when she slid him her purse or when she continued on her way past him.
In her eyes, she had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. Her action was purely done as a way to put him at ease over what she did while away from home. Normally, Tazir would just look at the bag before placing it down on the dining room table; from time to time, he would rummage through it.
On this particular day, he meant to just put the bag on the table. His intention changed right after he heard her cellular go off. While she checked into the situation that was going on in the living room, he took her phone from her purse then checked to see who it was that was calling.
"Well now, hello there." Angel said to the three boys, who looked to be playing a card game with her youngest son. Right when she was going over to see how the boys were faring, TazirVile was pressing the button that'd block that number that was calling her phone... a number which just so happened to belong to Mr. Ajeet Mahatma Ballal, who was a friend of hers.
"Hi, ma." Lazeer, who sometimes used ma and mama with her, said after she reached his side. It looked like the cards that he was holding were mostly dominated by eight's, four's, and two's; there was a single jack and an ace among them too.
"Miss. Irene," Eli Mendelsohn, who looked to have a near-full house in the set of cards that he was holding, said.
"Hi," the Kassmeyer twins, Kiefer looking to not have anything of interest in his set of cards while Killian looking to possess a near-complete flush in his, said in unison.
"How long have you three been here?" Angel asked.
"Few hours, ma'am." Eli replied.
"My bruder and I brought some board games over; we've been playing them for nearly three hours now. Eli's the one who brought the cards." Kiefer said.
"Thought we'd play a few hands before going home." Killian said.
"Lazeer, you make sure to lead your friends to the kitchen before they shove off for home. Have them get a few cookies each, okay?" Angel said.
"Okay," Lazeer said.
"Miss. Irene," Eli said. She turned to look at him at once. "I don't mean to sound offending but, none of the cookies that you've offered have coconuts in them, right?"
"No, there's just chocolate chip and sugar cookies in the cookie jar." Angel replied. Eli turned then gave her a wide smile... which she couldn't help but not return.
Unless her children were being punished, or one or more were sick, she had never said no to them in their having their friends over. While she had only seen some of her sons' friends once or twice, she knew that they were a good crowd; she was happy with what her sons befriended. She saw nothing wrong in Eli Mendelsohn being a Goth and she had nothing against her youngest son befriending folk of the African race. The same went in him befriending anyone who was open-minded or "mouthy".
Kiefer and Killian Kassmeyer were a very nice and polite bunch and so was Eli, who did seem to have a shy side to himelf. From what Lazeer had told her, Kiefer and Killian lived with their grandparents—their real parents had lost custody of them, and their older sister, about eight years ago. The twins' parents hadn't been trying to stir clear of their old cocaine habits; they sold just about everything that they owned to get a taste of that horrid drug and they also abandoned their kids. Kiefer and Killian's grandparents had stepped up to the plate in raising them and their sister—the latter, from what she was told, was currently enrolled in the Heidelberg University School of Medicine. Miss. Kassmeyer was hoping to become a nurse in the near future.
Eli Mendelsohn, and his older brother and younger sister, lived with his father; the boy's mother was another drug user who made the decision to abandon her children for the drugs that she was addicted to. Eli's mother was currently in a medical institute; the drugs had, sadly, done their job in destroying her mind and body.
She left her son with his friends after noticing how content they were, and after seeing that nothing amiss was going on with them. With the pizzas, Mozzarella sticks, and dipping sauce all squared away until later, and with Tazir looking to be busy with her purse, she went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. While on the way up the stairs, she glanced at the many photographs that were on the walls.
"Most, if not all, are of the boys from when they were doing their school-run sports activities." she thought.
Of her five sons, Bile was the fastest. He had sure made a name for himself during his tenure at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic; there were a total of four photographs of him and his record-smashing track runs on the walls that were on either side of the stairs.
The first was of his mile-run. He was "flashing" by the finish line; her son had smashed the old record, which was 2:06:54, and set by his own father, during that run. The new record of 1:48:12 was said to be untouchable. Bile was sure proud of himself on that day, and the photograph emphasized that to perfection. Bile's arms were held up; he started celebrating right after crossing the finish line. Even though her hair was dyed a different color, she was there to cheer him on. His brothers were also there to support and cheer him on.
The second photograph was of Bile's mile and a quarter run. Her—and Bile's—grandfather had set the old record over a hundred and fifty thousand years ago. The old record, which was set at 2:21:09, was smashed to bits by her son, who didn't have a single problem in running on the track's hard surface. Unlike the first photograph, where her son was throwing his arms up after crossing the finish line, her son was just punching one of his arms out. His head was also bowed low. Her son's record of 2:00:45 was also said to be untouchable.
The third photograph was of her son's mile and a half run. Her—and Bile's—uncle, TriskullVile Vuupipii Surfeit, had set the old record, which was 2:25:12. It was overcast on the day of this run, and the track was wet and a little slippery. Her son had encountered a mild issue at the start, but he persevered. If she recalled correctly, she and Lhaklar came close to squishing Hazaar and Lazeer between themselves after Bile went past the finish line; Guyunis had, sadly, not been with them at the time that them four track records were made.
The fourth photograph was of her son's two mile run. Unlike the other meets, Bile encountered a few issues with this one... and he also came very close to being taken to the school's medical ward too. She remembered it very well; it was very sunny on the day of this run, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. Bile had done his usual in not stretching his arms or legs before the race's start. The only one of the eleven runners who was said to be a threat to her son was Idgor Chiriann—an Apsid, who had crystal white fur; sharp, overlapping teeth; and very red eyes. Despite the threat of Idgor, her son went on to win the meet. He surged to the front, where he stayed. No one had come close to him. Her son was dog-tired after finishing this run... so much so that he collapsed after crossing the finish line. A ring of teachers and students had formed around him right after he collapsed; she had found herself as having to push by everyone to get to him.
"Air!" she remembered her son saying. "My lungs are on fire! I need air!"
"Get back! Give him some space and air!" she remembered herself, and her son's couch—a Goblin-woman by the name of Kiafi Fiagie, who had long, cream-colored hair, black eyes, and light brown skin—, yelling.
It took her son all of five minutes before feeling well enough to sit up and then stand. Everyone sent up a chorus of cheers after he got to his feet. From what she was told, Trobrencus's older brother, RosolVile Yilsivoor Surfeit, was the one who set the old record of 2:48:54. Her son had set that record back by over ten seconds. It now stood at 2:36:34; like her son's other records, it was said to be untouchable.
"Hazaar didn't have an interest in running track, and Lazeer wasn't able to run track because of his sensitive eye." she thought as she stopped to look at the other photographs that were on the walls. "Lazeer had a big interest in Mechanical things; he asked and I provided the funds for him to be enrolled in the school's Mechanics courses. Hazaar had an interest in music; he spent all of fifty years of his two hundred year tutelage in the Pronghorn Band."
Not only was Bile an outstanding runner in his track meets but he was also a very good Wrestler. The funds for his after-school Wrestling activities were paid after his two-mile run; for the following five years, he made himself a new name. Her oldest son was Wrestling Champ for five years before dropping out of that interest to focus on his studies. Like any other good parent, she had a few photographs on the walls of his Wrestling meets. The one that she was looking at now had Lazeer in it; her youngest son was involved in a few school-run Mechanics contests and competitions. He won all but two of them. The photograph that she was looking at showed her son holding a blue and gold ribbon up; he had just won a contest on who could repair the engine of an old vehicle the fastest.
Here were two photographs of Lhaklar's track runs. While her secondborn son wasn't as fast as Bile, he still set some "minor" records—all of which were placed during his tenure at the University of Telepathy. The photograph of Lhaklar setting his record for the mile and an eighth had an overcast sky in it; rain had just started to fall after he crossed the wire. His record on that run was set at 2:12:13—the old record, which was set some fifty years earlier by a young fellow by the name of Quagan Zahapor, was 2:18:09. The next photograph was half-overcast; the wind was howling, and it was cold, but she still insisted on being there to cheer her son on. Lhaklar's two and a half mile run was a long and grueling one for him; as far as she knew, the record of 3:55:09 was still in place. Ironically, Lhaklar had beat his father's old-made record, which stood at 4:15:34.
"Guyunis came very close to breaking Bile's mile and mile and a quarter records." she came close to saying. "He was just five or so seconds from tying them."
While not as fast as Bile, her adopted son was still fast... he proved this after the first fifty years of his tutelage in Goboshu's Academy of Meanness. Each time her son set foot on a track, he came close to shattering, or shattered, either a previously made record or a record that was made some thousands or hundreds of thousands of years ago. Here was a photograph of Guyunis's two-mile and three-sixteenths run; if she recalled correctly, the race was both long and run on grass. The old record, which was made by Trobrencus's young son, Bohir, had stood at 3:03:54; her son had set it back to 2:53:53.
Here was a photograph of Guyunis's two-mile and a quarter run; it was another of her son's long, grueling races. Even though it was run over snythetic dirt, her son still had a little issue at its start. The old record, which was set over four hundred years ago by some fellow named Crazan Duplaxen, was 3:20:04; her son had smashed it to bits. It was currently set at a nice 3:11:34.
The next photograph was of her adopted son's three mile run—which, if she recalled correctly, was run over synthetic dirt, grass, and water. Her adopted son's great-uncle, TrobrencusVile Bloym Surfeit, was the one who set the old record. The old record was 3:41:09; the new one currently sat at 3:26:56. Guyunis, despite being dog-tired at the race's conclusion, had managed to stay on his feet. Barely, that was.
Guyunis had a total of six track records at Goboshu's Academy of Meanness. Like Bile's records at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic, they were all said to be untouchable.
"And, of course, the graduation photos." she said after turning to look at the photographs that were on the wall behind her.
Bile looked very stylin' in the robe that he wore on the day of his graduation from Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic. There were two pins on the left side of his robe, which was black, and had a black and yellow collar on it; her son had earned them for his academic achievements. The three medals, that he was wearing around his neck, were for his Alchemist achievements. Bile, who, at the time, was lacking one of his canine teeth, was giving an awkward smile in the photograph.
Lhaklar looked a little funny in his Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic robe. He had a 3.6 grade point average while at the school; the red pin, that he was wearing on his left shoulder, was given to him because of that grade point average. The green and silver rope, that was around the right shoulder of his robe, had come from his being on the Honor Roll more than twelve times during his tenure at the school. The robe that he was wearing was meant to be worn by one who was under six feet tall—even after putting in a request for a longer one, the school insisted on his wearing the one that he was given. Even as a young teenager, Lhaklar was tall; the robe that he was wearing went barely halfway down to the lower portion of his legs.
Hazaar was all smiles in his graduation picture. He had a scroll and plaque in his hands—both were awarded to him for his talents in music. Hazaar's robe had no pins, ribbons, or ropes on it; it was worn plainly—with the exception of his being involved in the school's band, he wasn't apart of any of the school's clubs or activities.
The next photograph had Lazeer in it. Her youngest son's robe was quite brightly decorated. There were three ropes—a silver, a black and silver, and a red, gold, and white—hanging from its right shoulder. Her son had earned those through his activities in the school's Potions, Mechanics, and Math clubs.
Guyunis had tried to shy himself out of being photographed; after the graduation ceremony ended, he tried to hide in the bathroom... away from her, and her camera lens. His Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic robe had a gold rope on its right shoulder; there were a series of red, orange, yellow, and green ribbons on its left side. Her son had earned the rope from his activities in the school's Biology club; the ribbons were earned from his activities in the school's Chemist club.
The next four photographs were positioned above the other ones. The one that she looked at first was of Lhaklar, who just got through graduating from the University of Telepathy. Her son's blue robe, which had a silver collar on it, was appropriately sized for him; he had a series of ropes—a black, a lime green, a silver and yellow, and a light blue—around his right shoulder. He had earned those from his activities in the school's Chess and Botany clubs. Her son was a little on the excited side that day; after finding, and then catching up to him, she had a time in getting him to stand still so she could take his picture.
The following photograph had Hazaar in it. Hazaar, who just graduated from the University of Telepathy, was wearing a plain robe. He wasn't really involved in any of the school's clubs or activities. The next photograph had Lazeer in it; he, Lhaklar, and Hazaar had attended and graduated from the University of Telepathy at the same time. Lazeer's robe had two ropes on it—a red and gold and a green and black. He got them from his activities in the school's Acidic and Telekinetic-based clubs.
"Guyunis's... ticky, tacky robe is still in storage. Been meaning to ask him if he wants it back." she thought as she looked at the wall's final photograph.
Two weeks before his graduation occurred, Guyunis was given the most outlandishly tacky robe that she had ever seen in her life. Guyunis was a thin kid at the time of his enrollment at Goboshu's Academy of Meanness; he was no more than five foot, eight inches and weighed no more than a hundred and thirty-five pounds. The school, regardless of knowing this, had given him a robe that was too big and long for him to wear; even after expressing his dislike for the garment, and expressing a want for a shorter and thinner robe, the school had insisted on his wearing it. She had spent the better part of a week in trying to "fix" the thing after the school refused to give him a better one.
The robe, which was a moss green color, had a ridiculously long, cape-like hood on its back. The hood was nearly four feet long. It was a little darker green color than the rest of the garment; its interior was satin while its velvet trim was gold. Even after putting a week in on fixing the thing, it was still an inch to an inch and a half too long for her son. Guyunis had come close to tripping while going to the podium to retrieve his diploma... twice!
Guyunis had four ropes around the right shoulder of his robe—a dull gold, a lime green and scarlet red, a dull gray and silver, and a navy blue. Most of them had come from his activities in the school's "meanness" programs and clubs; the navy blue and the lime green and scarlet red rope had come from his involvement in the school's fitness programs. Despite the issues with the robe, Guyunis was happy on that day. His dark face was all lit up, thanks to the bright smile that he was giving.
"I insisted on my boys having a full education at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic, and I never kept them from going to further schools." she thought as she went towards her bedroom. "I only have a half-education at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic... I wanted my boys to have a full education at the school, and I made sure that happened by—"
"Ma,"
With the knowledge of his father's assault on Guyunis heavy on his mind, he made the decision to see how his brother was faring. The second he entered the room that his brother shyly picked out for himself on the final day of July 4100, he knew that things weren't peachy-fine in his world; Guyunis was a mess, point blank. The second he stepped into the room, he knew that he would be needed for a while. Guyunis was a blubbering, shivering mess; while better now, he was still not one hundred percent himself. Being grabbed, and then restrained, and then pushed by a man that he was both afraid of and didn't trust had set off another regression; the kid, who had slowly progressed to being ninety-five percent himself over the last few weeks, had reverted to being what he was at the start of the month.
He had started worrying about this happening after learning about the conversation that his parents had on the twenty-first of May. Guyunis didn't know TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit; he didn't trust or want him anywhere near him... his mother should of known this and should of said no to his father's question on whether he could act in a paternal way towards his brother. Hazaar's little "test" had gone off horribly—instead of using his words to calm Guyunis down, his father was physical with him and, from what he could tell, he didn't just go after Guyunis. Lhaklar, about an hour and a half ago, had looked a bit... upset. And pained. Lhaklar had used his broken left arm to grab him with; his younger brother's face had pinched in after that happened. The request that came from him was shaky and emotion-filled; that alone was enough to tell him that something had happened between Lhaklar and their famous old man.
Soon after hearing the horn of their mother's car horn being blasted, he readied himself. The door to Guyunis's bedroom was unlocked; he stood by it. After hearing someone going down the hall, he left the room; the room that he spent the better part of an hour and a half in was all locked up now. The only way that he could get in was by knocking and then expressing who he was.
"Bile?" his mother, who had since turned to face him, said.
"Think something happened between Lhaklar and dad today," Bile said. "Lhaklar requested to see you."
She felt her good, no-issue day slipping right then and there. Even though she preferred for her sons to not throw the day's bad events at her, she did like for any and all events that could or were detrimental to their well-being or healths to be relayed to her. Bile looked so serious when he told her that Lhaklar wanted to see her... While she had a feeling that he, too, wanted to see and speak with her on something, she felt that he also wanted her to see Lhaklar first.
She nodded her head, then said that she'll go over to see him now, then went across the hall. Thanks to their residing in the house for nearly ten months, she knew the layout well. The room that was across from her own was Lhaklar's; Hazaar's was on his left while Lazeer's was on his right. Eshal's room was beside Lazeer's. The spare room was across from Eshal's, while Bile's was beside it. Her room was beside her oldest son's while Guyunis's was beside hers. The upstairs closet was "attached" to Guyunis's room; the bathroom, which was between Eshal's room and the spare room, was across from the stairs. She stepped up to Lhaklar's bedroom door, knocked on it lightly, then voiced who it was that was on its other side. Bile, she noted, went back to Guyunis's room—she took note that he had to knock and then voice who he was before being let in.
"Should of known that something occurred during my absence." she thought while waiting for her son to admit her to his room. "Tazir wasn't himself when I came in, and my sons, and Eshal, didn't do their usual in saying hello or in trying to claim what I had in my arms."
The lock on her son's bedroom door was undone, then the knob was twisted. When the door was opened just a smidge, she knew that something was very wrong. She went into the room, then closed the door behind her, then turned to address her son; the sight of his splint-less arm caused her throat to close up right after she did so. The words that she wanted to say didn't come out. She just gawked at the state of her son's arm.
The arm's ulna and radius were severely fractured on the twenty-third of December. Her husband was the one behind the break. Lhaklar, who was in an Eagle form at the time, had swooped down to attack his father, who was trying to capture Hazaar and, presumably, hurt or kill Ajeet Ballal, who was with Hazaar. Stefan Leinart, Ajeet Ballal, a man by the name of Hans Seiderman, and Hazaar had just barely made it to the shield that was over the town of Hennigsdorf; Lhaklar had sacrificed himself to ensure that they got to it... while he was still alive, and healthy, he had sustained a few injuries. Her son's arm was still tender to that day, but it was healing... or, at least it was. It looked like something had happened to him and, furthermore, it looked like his room was lacking one of its posters.
"M-mo-oh-m." Lhaklar, who seemed to be in considerable pain, said.
"What happened to your arm, Lhakie?"
Her son was standing before his bed; she had no more asked her question before he collapsed to it. She went to him then, gently, and very carefully, examined his swollen arm... which, she was quick to note, was starting to bruise around where the two fracture points were. Lhaklar placed his head on her shoulder; he allowed her to examine him, and to deduce, to some extent, what happened to him, before starting in on a tale that made her blood slow to a bare trickle. Her face became set like an angry stone after he started relaying the afternoon's events.
Tazir, her husband, and the biological father of four of her six children, had a good ol' time in shaking two of her sons up. Lhaklar said that he came up to stop Hazaar and Guyunis from fighting; instead of using his words to calm Guyunis down, he grabbed him by the wrist then placed him in a headlock before pushing him back. Tazir then went into her secondborn's room; he looked around, spoke a few times, then got rip-roaring mad after noticing the poster that her son had purchased and then put on the back of his closet on the first of August.
Lhaklar's poster was taken down and then rolled up. Tazir had said some very disrespectful things in regards to her allowing her sons to display posters that showed off their sexuality before going to leave the room. Lhaklar claimed to of grabbed him with the sole intent of telling him to not talk of her like that. Tazir, in response to being grabbed, had turned around; her son's arm, which was, without a shred of a doubt, re-broken, was grabbed and then squeezed. The poster—the ashes, of which, were all nicely aligned on her son's desk—was destroyed right in front of her son's eyes then the model that her son sent out for in the mail a few weeks ago was "confiscated". Tazir grounded her son for a week after the poster was destroyed.
Her son, after relaying all of this to her, stood then went towards his bookcase. He grabbed his wand from its stand then started to act like he was going to use it—like he was going to remove the memory of what trangressed between he and his father from its slot in his brain then show it to her. She went to him right after the wand was removed from its stand.
"Calm down, sweetie. I believe you. You don't have to show me what happened between you and that nit." she said. She took the wand from her son's hand, then placed it back on her son's bookcase, then returned to her son. Lhaklar, right then and there, started getting emotional.
"I-I-I sent the b-b-books that I took f-fr-from dad's library back to wh-where they be-belong, mom. After what hah-happened, and then noticing what h-h-h-he did to m-my arm, I couldn't k-keep them here." her son sobbed. She grabbed then held him close; with the exception of his getting injuries that he couldn't handle, or events that he wasn't emotionally mature in handling, she had never seen him get this upset before. Even though Lhaklar wouldn't admit it, she knew that he was given a good scare. That made her become even more infuriated—parents should never instill fear on their children!
"Don't blame you, honey." Angel said.
She spent all of an hour comforting, and telling her son that it was okay. When she felt that he was a little more in control of himself, she gave him a set of instructions. The first focused on his arm, which, along with growing more bruised with each passing minute, had swelled to twice its size. Her son followed her from his room, then down the hall to where the upstairs bathroom was; a five minute healing session, where her son's arm was mended or healed to the state that it was in before it was assaulted, was done. After the healing session was done, she told him to fill the tub about a quarter of the way with water; her son was to make himself a copy of the poster that was destroyed.
"I don't have any cardboard, mom." Lhaklar said.
"You let me worry about that now. You just fill that tub then use your Telepathy and Elemental powers to make yourself a new poster." Angel said.
The next two instructions were really quite simple: Lhaklar was to forget about being grounded and he was to wait in his room until she came back from dealing with Mr. Mean. The were no if's, might's, or maybe's about his model being returned to him—her son would get his model back and he would be allowed to build it. With the set of instructions in place, and her son's broken arm returned to the way it was before being assaulted, she went to her room. She took the pair of black pants and the black, long sleeve blouse that she was wearing off, then placed a simple, green t-shirt and a pair of normal blue jeans on before leaving the room. She went straight to the dining room, and then kitchen, afterwards. The broom was taken from the closet, then placed out of view, right after she entered the adjoined rooms.
It didn't take long before the one that her anger was about to be released on entered the room. She let Tazir get within close distance of her before grabbing and then swinging the broom.
"What the hell!" TazirVile yelled after the straw-end of the broom slapped his side and back.
"Either you've lost your fuckin' mind or you've decided to forgo the promise that you forged in how discipline was to be given to our offspring!" Angel snapped as she drove her husband towards the dining room.
"What the hell are you talking about, Angel!" TazirVile came deathly close to grabbing the broom. Angel swiped it to the side then whacked him a good melody of times before stopping. By the time she stopped using it to "discipline" him with, he was in one of the dining room corners.
"First off, how dare you place wrong finger on Guyunis. That boy is morbidly afraid of you, and doesn't trust you, yet, here I am, being told that you, who asked for permission to act like a daddy to him, grabbed him by the wrist and then placed him in a headlock before shoving him. That isn't being a daddy to that boy! That is you acting like your own father!" Angel came near to shrieking.
"With his coming at me like he w—" TazirVile started to say. The broom came very close to striking his groin; he zipped his mouth shut then shot his hand forward. He "fizzled" out as he used a small bit of his Time Warp ability; Angel, regardless of the ability's use, retained the possession of the broom by yanking it out of his area.
"I don't rightly care. You're a grown man, Guyunis is a boy. You could well of broken his wrist by grabbing him like that—you could of broken his neck after putting him in a headlock as well!" Angel said. "And with you knowing the history that he has, you should feel double ashamed of yourself for even fathoming the idea of laying wrong hand on him."
"So what was I suppose to do after he started coming at me, acting like he was going to hit me?" TazirVile asked.
"Back away, that's what you should of done! Instead of getting in his space, freaking him out, and putting unneeded stress on his shoulders, you should of backed away."
"I suppose that, when he kills or severely injures someone, you'll say the same thing?"
Eshal, who, for the last two minutes, was watching the crazy spectacle of her mother brandishing a broom at her father, couldn't really believe what she was seeing. While there were times where her mother had used her hands, or some house-hold item, on her father in a threatening or disciplinary way, she had never really seen her get this angry at him before. It scared her a little but, in a lot of ways, she understood what was going on. She had heard all of what her mother had said; her father was caught red-handed in doing something that he shouldn't of done and, in a lot of ways, her mother was punishing him for it. Eshal looked at her parents for thirty more seconds before turning to go back upstairs. She stopped just before Guyunis's room after reaching the second level; she gave it a good consideration about knocking and then speaking to the boy that was on the door's other side before deciding to go to her room.
If she stayed downstairs, she would of heard the rest of the reason behind her mother's richly gotten anger. At the time of her father's assault on Guyunis, she was napping, and, when her father went into her brother's bedroom, she was playing with the nifty pillows that Bile found and then brought home from the dump on the fifth of May while also listening to some music—she didn't really know anything of what happened in the house thanks to them activities of hers. If she knew about what her father did to Lhaklar, she would of also put into consideration about going to talk to him.
Eshal was going into her bedroom at the same time that her mother started in on her father about his actions towards Lhaklar. The broom was used a further fifteen times before succumbing to the act that it was being used for; Angel was now using her words, and hands, against her husband.
"Now you just wait a cotton-pickin' minute!" TazirVile said in a near-calm way. "My disciplinary actions with Lhaklar were correctly done, Angel. The boy was acting disrespectful, I—"
"You call what you did up there correctly done?" Angel grabbed the lapels of her husband's gray striped tuxedo jacket then slammed him against the wall. "You broke that boy's arm, Tazir! By grabbing and then squeezing his arm, you broke it!"
"Wh... I didn't mean to do that!" TazirVile exclaimed. "I didn't mean to grab to hurt, Angel. I was only grabbing to s—"
"You don't "subdue" a child, Tazir!" Angel screamed. "You don't disrespect me, or take or destroy something that one of our children has, either! That's not parenting, that's you being a bully."
"The poster that you're talking about needed to be taken, Angel. It had a woman on it that—"
"I know what it had on it. I've seen it—whenever I go into that room, to return our son's clothing, or check-up on him, or see what state his room's in, I see it." Angel interrupted her husband, who gave her a long, hard look. "I know everything of what they own, Tazir. Nothing of theirs has crossed or missed my radar."
"You've really allowed a fine opening on the boys taking advantage of you, you know that, right?"
"An opportunity that they've never taken part in doing. I know my boys well, Tazir—they show me respect and they know the consequences that befall them if they cross me." Angel said.
"While I'm sure they're respectful towards you, I'm also sure that they've done certain things behind your back that you don't know of." TazirVile said. He pushed his wife, who was still clinging onto the lapels of his jacket, back gently; while remaining near the wall, he didn't huddle up or have his back placed against it. "There's a lot of things that I'm sure the boys do that you're not aware of. You've got them spoiled, Angel. As much as it hurts me to say it, you d—"
The punch that she dished out was heard all throughout the house. TazirVile bounced from the wall, then landed on the floor right after her tightly woven fist collided with the side of his face. The man worked his jaw, checking to see if it was broken or not, before looking up at her... who, not long after he did so, dropped to his eye level.
"Let's get something straight here, you slick son of a bitch. I have not spoiled my sons. I've raised them well. They—all five of them—are a good bunch who regard me extraordinarily well. You, on the other hand, haven't warranted such respect." Angel said.
"Being father of them boys should warrant automatic respect, Angel." TazirVile said.
"Father by name and blood only, not by action." Angel said. "Lhaklar's been released from that poor excuse of a punishment that you've given him and he's been told to make a copy of the poster that you unjustly destroyed. Where the hell is his model?"
"On Moas, where it'll stay until—"
"You have that model on that table—" Angel turned, then pointed at the dining room table. "—in less than five minutes. If it's not there after that given time—"
"Your brand of intimidation won't work on me, Angel. It never has." TazirVile lied.
"If you don't want to see your ass thrown out of this house, or have the spell that I did that allows you free passage of the planet's shields dropped, you'll do as I've instructed you." Angel said.
The model of the 1910 Ford Model "T" appeared on the table less than ten seconds later. Angel took it then marched it to her son's bedroom. Lazeer, Kiefer and Killian Kassmeyer, and Eli Mendelsohn ducked out of view of the sole remaining person in the dining room right after she left to take the returned item upstairs. Lazeer's friends had just started getting ready to go home when his parents started fighting in the room that was across from the one that they were in; thanks to the window that was between the living room and dining room, he and his friends were able to watch the whole fight. After Angel went upstairs, the four boys turned then slid down to a crowded seated arrangement on the loveseat.
"Dude! Your mum keeps getting even more bad-ass every damn time I come over here." Kiefer Kassmeyer said.