November 27... it was hard to believe that it was close to being forty-eight hours since her homecoming occurred, and it was also hard to believe that it was closing on two days since the full of her employer's family was returned to the house. She, and the twenty-nine others who had accompanied her, and her employer and his daughter, on the trip to Earth had yet to get back in the groove of being back home but she was sure that, in the coming days, they'd all settle down and return to schedule again.
As expected, things had been a bit crazy for the last forty-five hours—but not as crazy as it had been on Earth these past three months, though. The messy antics of trying to track down and then capture the bulk of her employer's family to the side, it had mostly been the weather that had been experienced on the planet that had made her come close to wanting to ask to be sent home—she had never seen such a messy seasonal period before and she hoped to never see it, or go through it, again.
While it had been decently warm during the first few weeks of their stay on the planet the weather had done a severe turn in changing about late-September—it had gotten cold and fast in the area where their employer had picked to land his ship at. The trees had lost their colorful foliage; the ground had gone from being soft to hard; the local animals had left for their winter homes; and the wind had carried a good, cold nip to it that had caused her to damn near want to remain inside the ship. The snow had started falling after two of her employer's four sons were caught; with her being one who preferred warmer temperatures to colder ones, it had been no surprise that she had detested the fact of the snow making an appearance or of the sudden weather change that had taken place in their little corner of Green River, Wyoming.
She was a creature of habit—she liked seeing colorful foliage, and animals moving around without a care in the world, and flowers blooming, and new life being born... with the sudden change in the weather, that hadn't been able to be seen for long. While fighting the urge in wanting to ask about being sent home she had kept herself busy, and warm—her male co-workers had done the same on the latter. Her male co-workers had acted like their old, normal selves; no hint of their being depressed because of the sudden change in the weather, or of their wanting to be sent home because of the weather, had been disclosed. It had just been her, and a small handful of her female co-workers, who had shown the signs of depression—naturally, the kids who had been in the ship had been blue over not being able to go outside but their depression had been gained from the pure fact of their not being allowed to go out to play with the stuff that had been falling from the sky.
Children just loved playing in or with the snow; they loved to make snowballs and then throw them, they loved to make snowmen, they loved to run around and kick the stuff around for the pure sake of doing so, and they enjoyed having a rousing snowball fight... She had just one child and he was like any other child when it came to snowy weather—once that first flake was seen, or once he woke up, and then saw that the ground was covered in a sheet of white, he went crazy in wanting to play with it.
Her husband, just after she left to go to Earth with her twenty-nine co-workers, and with her employer and his daughter, had taken their son to one of the moons that orbited Moas; non-surprisingly, he had picked Fulnoos as the moon that they were to spend some time on. It snowed eight months out of the year on Fulnoos and it was also very cold during them months... her husband had picked this moon solely because of the season that had been going on and because there had been more than ten feet of snow on the ground in certain places. Before leaving, she had told her husband to keep both himself and their son well-clothed and to, of course, have fun and be safe while they were on the moon—an order for them to not be outside for more than an hour had also been made. Not only had her husband said that they would but he had also said that she had nothing to worry about with them during their stay on the moon; her son, on the other hand, had groaned before saying that she was already making him grow pruned. She had said well, that's just too bad; you can grow as pruned as can be but you obey me. I don't want you coming home lacking any fingers, toes, or an ear or a nose. Twelve hours after she and her co-workers were on their way to Earth, she had gotten a call from her husband; he had said that he and their son had had a blast and that they were back in their cabin and that they were warming up. He had also said that they were getting ready to chow down on some pizza rolls and have some hot cocoa before watching some tv and then taking a nap. She had been glad to hear his voice and to hear that they were doing as she had asked of them to do while on Fulnoos.
"Hello, Attaec." Mikia Khrelan said when she saw her exiting the stairwell that ran down from the first level of her employer's mansion.
"Hello Mikia—how's your husband?" Attaec Ionif asked. Seeing as she had a few minutes to spare, she stopped to speak with Mikia.
"A little sore—looking forward to working again." Mikia replied. "No one these past two days has told me a thing on what's going on upstairs—is it true that they were all captured and are in the house?"
"Master Tazir is a very happy man—he has all five of his children, and his wife, in the house again." Attaec replied.
She spoke with Mikia for a few minutes—a few things were disclosed while others were not—then she went on her way. With herself being as tired as she was, she said not a thing to the other spouses that she walked by or to any of her co-workers who were either standing out in the hallway or who were also on their way home.
While this portion of the mansion belonged to her employer it didn't, technically, belong to him; the man had set this portion of his residence to the side for his lived-in help—he had generously made available two hundred and fifty spacious apartments for certain members of his staff. With the exception of the hallway's floor, walls, and ceiling, the ones who lived down here had full right in doing as they pleased with the apartments that they were given.
The carpet that ran down the stairs, and down the hallway that she was on, was light red in color; there were dark red and multi-pink, crystal-like designs in the carpet's center while, running along the sides, was a single white line. The walls on either side of her were brown; there was a strip of dark brown wood placed at every six inch intervals on both of the hallway walls. Along with the usual decor of framed photographs and portraits of flowers, waterfalls, and ocean and park scenes there were photographs of her co-workers with their employer on the walls; Master Tazir was a right nice man... he wasn't only very respectful and polite but he was also very patient with the ones that worked for him. He had a wonderful relationship with most of the men and women that worked for him.
The ceiling above was an eggshell white color; a long bar ran down its center—a yellow beam, that was keeping the hallway very well lit, was in this bar. No windows were present on this hallway—with this portion of the house being underground, this was normal. The apartments that were on the hallway were also lacking windows. The other hallways that were located underneath her employer's mansion, and their stationed apartments, were design-duplicates of this one.
She and her husband had lucked out on being allowed to take up one of the hallway apartments; soon after being interviewed, then being hired to work for the man, and then saying something about her and her family of then two looking to move to a better location—she and her husband had been living in the very crowded, and crime-invested, city of Vructokan at the time of her being hired to work for her employer—, she had been asked to follow him to where the hallway-placed apartments were. She and her husband had been given Apartment 67 to live in; they didn't have to worry about the electric, cable, phone, internet, water, or gas bill—her employer took care of that for them. She and her husband also didn't have to worry about the price of repairs; if something happened, or if some sort of damage was done in the apartment that they lived in, her employer took care of it.
She had asked her employer right after being told all of this why he was being so nice in footing the bills and repairs; he had replied with you guys have enough to deal with on working for me, why add more to that burden? She couldn't help but admire and respect that; TazirVile Surfeit was a fine employer and she was more than glad to be working for him. Like so many others, his name had been signed—in her blood, as was custom of one in her species to do when Loyalty Pledging was done—to her Loyalty Papers; this had been done ten years after she had taken up the task of working for him, she had never looked back or chided herself for making the decision to be loyal to him afterwards.
While on her way down the hallway, she stopped then turned to look at the door that had the number 37 on it. She hesitated for a few seconds before stretching her arm forward and then knocking on the door—getting home, undressing herself from her dress, then putting on a much more appropriate outfit before going to see how her husband and son were could be put off for a few minutes; she was suddenly driven to saying hello to one of her co-workers, who she hadn't seen in over a month.
"Hello," a female Goblin, or Goblinette, as one of the female gender in her species was called, said after answering the door. This woman had long, gorgeous, silky smooth blonde hair, that flowed down to the middle of her back; her skin was a light purple color while the color shade of her eyes was light blue. The appearance of her face wasn't only very feminine but quite gentle to the eye. She was wearing a gray dress, that had a ruffled collar, and short sleeves, on it; a gray ribbon was tied around her waist. The pair of gray-colored, slip-on shoes, that were on her feet, were normal in all attributes.
"Hello Abara, is Mr. Modulavich available for a short talk?" Attaec asked.
"Is it important?" the Goblinette asked. "My husband is still feeling the effects of his pains, poor thing."
"No, it's not direly imp—"
"Abara, who is it?"
Mrs. Modulavich let her in without a further question or another word being said; once she was in the apartment, and once the door was securely shut behind her, she started being a bit rude in taking in her surroundings.
A short stretch of hallway led from the door to the living room; a brown leather couch was in the room and, right beside it, sat a matching, but rather old looking, chair. A brown wood coffee table sat before the couch; across from the coffee table and couch was a white oak entertainment center that had a 30" flat screen tv on it. A video player, a music system, and one of them game cubes were in the entertainment center's open storage areas. Mr. Modulavich, who was fifteen thousand years her senior, was sitting on the room's one chair while two of his five children were busy in playing the game cube.
Homsi Modulavich, who had been sent home in late October after sustaining some injuries to himself, was TazirVile Surfeit's most trusted employee—the man was also Master Tazir's wife's most trusted employee as well. All three were good friends and regarded one another well. The man was one who worked hard and, in fact, "legend" said that it was his hard-working attitude, along with his uncanny ability of being around whenever something came up that their employer needed to get off his chest, that had gained him his Most Trusted title. He had gained the title of Most Trusted at year seventy-three of his working for their employer; before him, it had just been a man by the name of Eldass Zultoa who had had the sole title of Most Trusted—this man was still considered one of Master Tazir's Most Trusted employees but, since Homsi's appearance and title earning occurred, he had been given the gentle "boot" to being their employer's second Most Trusted employee.
"Mrs. Ioniff," Homsi, a brown-skinned Goblin, who had large, expressive, blue eyes, that were set in a very serious, and, to her, very handsome face, said. The man's elf-like ears may look like that of the standard set that a Goblin possessed but, in regards to a normal Goblin, who's ears were hairless, they had light gray hair growing out from them. He was wearing a pair of brown formal pants; the white t-shirt that he was wearing wasn't tucked in. The pair of light brown slippers that were on his feet, which were currently all propped up on the chair's ottoman, were very normal. "Tell me, there's been a lot of activity going on in the hallway these past two days—Master Tazir is back, right?"
"Yes, he landed his ship in the hangar forty-five hours ago." Attaec replied.
"Figured that he was back..." Homsi trailed off.
She automatically knew that he was thinking around the fact that he hadn't expected for their employer to of been returned to his home for two straight days; it was clear to her that the man hadn't been let in on anything that had been going on these past few days. She decided to change that a bit.
"He had all who work for him remain in the ship until his wife and sons were inside."
"That's good—haven't been able to watch much of the news because of Arenzoar and Dlahsleon's habit of taking up the tv so I'm virtually clueless on what's going on." Homsi said, then explained why he didn't know what was going on with his employer.
"They were all very, very nervous during the de-boarding—Young Master Hazaar and Lazeer especially."
"Young Master L—" Homsi sat upright; he winced before dropping back in his chair. "So, the article that I was able to read in the paper yesterday is correct. Young Master Lazeer is alive?"
"Yes—alive and very healthy," Attaec replied. "He inherited a mild form of his father's photo sensitivity but he's very healthy."
"Good to hear... how did they act after getting inside?"
"From what I heard, much the same as they had when they were removed from the ship—the younger boys refused to leave their mother's side; the older boys were practically walking on top of their mother." Attaec answered.
"They're nervous... they'll calm down soon." Abara Modulavich said.
"Their chambers have all been squared away for them—Master Tazir decided to forgo giving them their chambers for a few days. He had them all put in a room on the second floor; I think he wants them to calm down before showing them their rooms."
"Very wise—the boys are probably not going to be leaving their mother's side for a while." Abara said. Homsi nodded his head in agreement with what his wife had just said.
Like with Mikia Khrelan, she didn't speak long with the Modulaviches—she relayed what was going on in the house, and with their employer, then she got out of the apartment. While true, she had given some insight on what was going on in the mansion, and on how the boys had been after the ship was landed, she hadn't given a full telling on what all she had heard after the boys were removed from the ship and then taken into the house or even of what had happened before the landing occurred.
Master Tazir had made a few pit-stops along the way to spend ten to fifteen minutes with his wife and sons before returning to the cockpit; Mistress Angel had taken a few strolls around the ship—always with one or more of her son's tagging at her backside—before deciding to remain in the room that she and her sons had been put in—from what she had heard, she had put a stop to her trips around the ship after seeing how nervous the ones that she had left in the room were. None of the Young Masters, as she and some of her co-workers who had pledged their Loyalty to their employer called them, had wanted to leave the ship after it was landed; Master Tazir had spent a lot of time in the room that they had been put in before deciding to lead them to the ship's open front. It had taken all of five minutes before each of the boys had left the ship—Mistress Angel, as she and some of her co-workers called her, was the one who owned the credit of having the boys leave the ship. If not for her leaving the ship, then going down the ramp, the boys would not of left it.
Eclaire Gozakaal, one of her fellow co-workers, had been in the area when the family left the ship; according to her, Mistress Angel hadn't only been speaking to her children, telling them that all was okay, and that they had nothing to be fearful of, but she had also lunged and then snapped at her husband after he tried to coax the younger of the four boys into leaving the ship.
"Master Tazir just gave the younger boy a gentle push from behind... I was not expecting for the boy to jump like he did or for his mother to turn and then lash out at her husband!" was what Eclaire had said.
Mistress Angel's eyes had been going from one location to the next and she had been very jumpy; the mention of her not having a "dry" section of skin on her had made her believe that something was very wrong with the woman. Mistress Angel, while acting like a normal mother should in being nervous about her and her sons' surroundings, should not of lunged or acted in any way, shape, or form violent with her husband. Eclaire had said that Master Tazir had acted very patient and understanding; he had done nothing further in trying to coax his sons from the ship. He had simply backed off and waited.
Once the Woman of the House, and her four sons, had exited the ship, and then gone into the house, Master Tazir and his only daughter, Eshal, had followed; only after everyone had been relocated from ship to house had the man turned to give the signal—a loud piercing whistle had been heard then she and the rest of her co-workers had started the task of leaving the ship. Nothing had been heard from Mistress Angel or her sons for the last forty-five hours—she hoped that her employer would have no further problems with his wife and sons; she hoped that they'd all calm down and settle into their new living arrangements and, furthermore, she hoped that they'd all mellow down for their father and husband.
Attaec, after reaching the apartment that her family lived in, took a deep breath then reached forward for the door knob. The key was pushed into the keyhole then a single twist did the trick in getting the door to open; she went in after the door was opened.
"—en a little over three days and still no word from Mr. TazirVile Surfeit on how his wife and sons are fairing after being relocated from Earth to our rocky, but relatively hospitable, planet of Moas. Mr. Surfeit's ship was spotted at twelve twenty-four in the morning; it hovered over the mansion owned by its driver for all of ten minutes before dropping to what is presumed the hangar that's located underground somewhere close to the property. As with there being no reports on how his wife and sons are fairing there's been no further say on the boy who was identified as LazeerVile Zuluduz Surfeit." a blue-faced, yellow-eyed, female-looking reporter was saying several hours after the maid named Attaec Ioniff entered her apartment. This odd-looking woman was wearing a long, dark blue dress; she was standing by a wrought iron gate that had vines and mold growing on it—the gold-colored T and S that were on the gate was what told him where the reporter was.
With a yawn, he grabbed the six inch long remote, that was a mostly black color, but that had a series of white and gray buttons on it, from the room's bedside table; the simple action of pressing his finger against the power button did the trick in both silencing the reporter and shutting the tv off.
The reporters, he bet, would have a field day with the events that had happened between now and two days ago; he was still on the fence on some of the details of how he and his brothers had been removed from the ship while he was quite clear with everything else that had happened both before and after that event happened.
For starters, the old man had made the decision to leave the door to the room that he and his family had been put in during the drive from Earth to Moas wide open—everyone and their mothers had been able to see the happenings of what went on in that room and everyone had damn near broke their necks in looking them over. He still had the feeling that he and his family had been treated something like exhibits in a zoo thanks to the Goblins doing their peer-in routines every ten to fifteen minutes. While ma had closed the door a bunch of times the door had always been re-opened by either a nosey Goblin or by their old man, who had plain refused to shut the door after leaving the room. The zoo-feeling had made them get extremely nervous, which was why they had grabbed their mother by either her shirt, or by one of her arms, or around her waist when the ship finally touched down in the underground hangar—there had been plenty of it's okay, you don't have to be afraid; shhhh baby; and his personal favorite of calm down, I won't let anything happen to any of you coming from their mother's mouth when the opportunity to leave the ship came around. Thanks to their nervousness, most, if not all, of what their mother had said to them had fallen on deaf ears.
Of the four of them, it had really looked like Lazeer was the calmest of them when it came time to finally leave the ship; this notion had all but evaporated after the open airlock hatchway doors had been seen and after their "audience" had been noticed. Lhaklar had grabbed and then squeezed their mother's arm; Hazaar had wrapped his arms around their mother's waist; and he had grabbed their mother by the back of her shirt. Lazeer, at the time of their exit of the room that was on the ship, had just been holding their mother's free hand. Their mother had done several turns, and had actually led them from the open doors of the ship twice, before leading them back and then simply having them stand before the doors—her attempts in trying to reassure them that all was fine had been done for all of three minutes before their father had come up with the idea of giving Lazeer a "small" push forward.
Nearly all hell had broke loose after Lazeer leaped for the ceiling; his youngest brother had been making all sorts of groaning sounds during the verbal exchange that had been going on between their parents. Ma had turned on a dime and then lunged at their father before saying for him to back off—luckily, for the old man's sake, he had done so with no lip given. Their exit of the ship had happened sometime after this event occurred; dad and their sister, Eshal, had followed them to the house—as far as he knew, it had only been the old man who had stayed with them after they had reached the old place's interior.
All of what occurred after they had reached the house's interior was a blur to him; he wasn't about to try to figure it out and he was for damn sure not going to ask anyone about what had happened either. For all he knew, his mother might just of gotten violent with their father. Either the idea of giving them a push forward had caused their mother to lunge, or lash out at, the old man or, quite possibly, he had caused a violent reaction to happen after doing an innocent brush-pass while trying to get around them. Their abnormally quiet half-sister could of also started something by doing one or both of them things too, or a Goblin who wasn't aware of their being brought home had come up and then started something; it was also quite possible that nothing had happened. They could of entered the mansion, and then been led to the room that they were currently all holed up in, unhindered. Really, the only thing that he was sure of was that, once he and his family had entered the room that they were currently still in, he and they had felt sleepy and then had gone to sleep—after going towards and then lying down on the room's one bed, that was.
"How long have you been awake?" Lhaklar asked after sitting up on the bed and then rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"An hour, maybe two hours." Bile replied. "Like with the last three nights, I've had broken sleep."
"Think the same goes with the rest of us." Lhaklar said.
And he looked as if he had gone through three nights of broken sleep; Lhaklar, his younger brother, who was a hundred years younger than he was, was normally one to stay clear of stressful situations—as of late, he had been finding himself as getting into more than his fair share of them.
LhaklarVile Closhu Surfeit, that was his name—or, at least until he or one of their brothers decided to get on his nerves by calling him something other than that. He was usually just called Lhaklar or Lhakie. The guy was pretty tall—his full reach, which had been acquired nearly a thousand years ago, was six foot one; he had an athletically built body that was, in accord to a human, abnormally colored. The complexion of his skin was mint green; he had large, oval-shaped eyes that were a pistachio color—but that had a "small" hint of a silver undertone to them. The ends of each of his fingers had suction cups on them; the toes that he had on his feet were very normal in appearance.
The white towel, that was wrapped around his brother's body, was not what he had been wearing three days ago—to his recollection, his brother had been wearing a brown, button down, long sleeve shirt, a pair of light brown corduroy pants, and brown shoes and socks. All of what his brother had been wearing had been confiscated—his jacket included in the mix of items that had been taken. Thanks to the towel, he was able to see the bulk of his brother's muscles; Lhaklar's arms and legs were good and firm with muscle while the muscle that was on his back was ample and decently rolling. He had a firmly toned six-pack on his abs; his chest was very nicely sculpted.
He had gotten all of the muscle that was on his body from natural means—by using the ghost towns that were around their now-former hometown of Green River, Wyoming as a sort of gym. The lying about logs had been picked up and then used as synthetic weights; invisible opponents had been punched at; logs had been stood on end and then punched at; the water sources had been swam in; and the usual rough housing that they had done during their time in being outside of the apartment had done the trick in beefing him up. The usual house maintenance had also helped some—the medium-height and tall trees that had been chopped down in their former backyard, the bushes and small-range trees that he had taken up from their former backyard, and the usual house repairs had all had a hand in helping him acquire what he had in muscle mass.
"Man, I feel as if I was hit by a damn truck!" Lhaklar exclaimed. "Did what happen on Earth really happen or was it a dream?"
"W—" Bile started to say. Hazaar was fast in both shooting up from the room's bed and in interrupting him.
"Dude, if it was a dream then I'm Elmer Fudd." Hazaar shot. "It won't no dream... it was more like a friggin' nightmare!"
"I was hoping that someone would say 'yeah, it was a dream. You're at home, breakfast is on the table, come get it.' " Lhaklar sighed.
"No such luck." Bile said.
Hazaar sniffed; to him, what his older brother had said was stupid. Of course all of what had happened on Earth happened and of course it had been a nightmare—but, instead of being of the dream-sort it had been real. If anyone had asked him, the nightmare of what all they had endured over the last three days was still going on.
As he got up from the bed he was instantly reminded of what had happened; he was sore all over—he put the whole blame for this on his father's head. If not for his father, and his damn Goblins, he wouldn't be as sore as he was and he wouldn't be far away from home, or Earth, for that matter. The old man had somehow gotten into the shield that was still up and over Green River, Wyoming then, somehow, he had found where he and his family lived; all of their material possessions had been taken then Lhaklar had been chased to the dump then he and his brothers had gotten into a fight with him and his Goblins then... then they had been taken to his ship, and then disciplined with a piece of leather that was used to keep one's pants up, and then they, and their mother, had been whisked away to Merry Ol' Moas.
The old fart had tried the old pal routine on him and his brothers to no avail during the trip from Earth to Moas; he and his brothers had simply ignored the routine and had, for the most part, turned a blind eye to the man's "nice" ways. As far as he was concerned, the man wasn't to be trusted as far as one could spit. Had he and his family been given the normal treatment all during the drive from Earth to Moas? No. Had he and his family been given the appropriate privacy that one should be automatically given during a long-distance trip? No. Had he, Lhaklar, and Bile gotten so much as an I'm-sorry from the old man after he beat them with his belt for their simple action of trying to defend themselves? No. Had any sort of attempt to make up for all that they had endured over the last three days been made by the one who had brought them to this planet? Hell no! The old man had just wiped his hands of any past deeds that he had done with them and then initiated the "clean slate" thing with them.
"Course, wasn't expecting for any of that to happen. With the old man being as old as he is he probably thinks that he's all above giving anyone an apology, or over making up for things that he's done on or to others." he thought as he went to the room's adjacent bathroom.
The old notion said that siblings weren't suppose to look fully identical to one another; they were suppose to have certain differences to them but they were also suppose to look something like that of the two forms that had created them. In accord to his full-brothers, he was both similar and not similar to them. With his being five foot, eleven inches tall, he was shorter than both of them; his eye and skin color was different than theirs too.
For as long as he knew, he had always had dark blue skin; the eyes that were in his face were of the wrap-around sort. They were a deep purple color that, he and his mother both agreed, contrasted rather nicely with his skin complexion. The four and a half inch long rattail, that stuck out from the nape of the back of his head, was also a deep purple color; at the moment, it was a knotted up mess—he had plans to change that now.
As he undid the braids that were in his hair, then removed the beads, and the one feather that was embedded in one of the braids, he looked at the reflection that was coming off the bathroom mirror. While his skin complexion, height, and eye and hair color was different than his brothers' his facial features were much the same as theirs. His upside down, teardrop-shaped head had two holes where a nose would normally be and an O-shaped mouth in it; the suction cups that were on the ends of his fingers were also identical to those that Lhaklar and Lazeer possessed. The reflection—his reflection—that was in the mirror had a few bruises on its face; he knew from memory that he had a good deal of bruises on him and he also knew where they had all come from. Thanks to the bruise that was on his right arm, right close to where the inner elbow was, which stretched up to nearly the bicep on that arm, he couldn't lift his arm but so far.
Unlike Lhaklar, who had an athletically built body on him, he had a lean body build; like his brother, he had good, strong muscle on him. Like Lhaklar, he had gotten his muscle the natural way—by spending his "free time" in the abandoned towns that were around Green River, Wyoming and by doing manual labor after being punished for something that he shouldn't of done. He had one hell of a strongly built chest, and he had good muscle on his arms and legs; though the six-pack on his abs was less pronounced than his brother's it was there. He was still working on his back—while it wasn't totally devoid of muscle it wasn't as amply muscled as Lhaklar's was. Like his older brother, he had just a towel wrapped around his lower half—not a shred of clothing had been given to him in the three days that he had been on the planet and in his father's mansion.
The old man, during one of his "short" visits with him and his family, had promised him and his brothers that they'd be allowed to use the gym that was in his house and he had also promised to not be but so firm on them when they decided to work-out in the gym or when they were outside. As far as he was concerned, he didn't care if the man had a gym in his house, or two gyms, or if his house was sitting on a hundred acres of land—he didn't trust him and he wouldn't be starting the trusting process until he saw some sort of improvement over what he had seen during the trip from Earth to Moas.
Lhaklar had spoken to the man a few times—he had been able to detect the tense look on his face, and that had been present in his voice, while their father had either turned a blind eye to it or hadn't noticed it. Lazeer had said nothing to the man; he, for the most part, had acted like the man wasn't in the room—he had gone by example in doing the same thing. Bile, though pleasant with the man, had also been rather tense around him—with each visitation that the man had done, he had been watching him like a hawk.
Their father had kept the visitations brief at just fifteen minutes; along with the constant questions, and promise-making, he had also tried to make them behave. He had either told them to behave themselves or he had said for them to plain watch themselves—if not for momma, they would of all snarled at the man and then said or what in regards to that.
"I look like something that a pack of wolves hunted, then chewed on, then spat out after finding themselves as not favoring the taste of my flesh." Hazaar said as he left the bathroom. "Anyone have a comb or something?"
"Oh yeah, let me check my drawers for one." Bile said sarcastically. He slowly undid the knot that was on the towel that was around his waist; once the knot was undone, he pulled the towel away from his body. The waist of his brown boxer shorts was then pulled away from his body.
"You think any of us has anything on us, Hazaar?" Lhaklar asked. "Except for mom, we've been robbed of everything on our person. And that includes my blasted cigarette case!"
"Cigarettes, cigarette case, pocketknives, wallets, my bag of weed..." Bile leaned back in the chair that he was sitting on; he had tied the towel back around his body. "They made off with everything."
"Is that why you only looked down your shorts for a second?" Lazeer asked. He was the only one of them to of gotten up and then done a little walking around the room. "They even made off with your pecker?"
"Shuddup," Bile snorted.
For the last three months, he had been referred as either The Unknown Youth or Reezal Bakerly; as of the last three days, he had mostly been called by his real name—which was LazeerVile Zuluduz Surfeit. While he was happy in now being known as who he was he wasn't happy about being removed from the planet that he had virtually been raised on since he was four months of age.
Like his brothers, he didn't trust his father and, like his brothers, he feared the man—but there was a whole different reason for the two. The man who had aided in his creation had fought him, then had let his Goblins have at him after he had been felled by him, then he had had the guts to separate him from his brothers and then lock him up in his ship's dungeon. Like his brothers, he was sore all over; the medical table that was in his father's ship had managed to heal some of his injuries while, on others, it had either not been able to heal them fully or hadn't been able to heal them at all. His fear of the man had been cemented after he had learned that the old foggy had had the gumption to take a belt to his brothers.
Unlike his brothers, who had either been born at full gestation, or at near-gestation, he had been born prematurely at five and a half months gestation; he had spent three and half weeks in a pod before the doctors had handed him off to his parents—he had been given a two-day survival period after that occurred. His mother had let him nurse from her as many times as his little infant self could, which was the reason to why he was still alive today. He had been four months old at the time of his mother's father's mouth being opened; a threat had been given and then his mother had taken him and his brothers and then fled to Earth, where they had lived for sixteen hundred years.
"The docs would probably all look at me and go 'it's a miracle that he survived under the circumstances of his being removed at such a crucial time from Moas'." he thought as he went towards the bathroom that his brother had just vacated.
He used the toilet then he went to the mirror; once at the mirror, he gave himself a good studying. Here he was... the prematurely born baby who was now a strong, healthy, one thousand, six hundred year old. He was no longer the infant who could barely open or keep his eyes open, and he was no longer the infant who was so weak that he could barely move.
The one that was staring at him from the mirror was as strong, and as healthy, as could be. His reflection was very spot-on to what he really was—the skin was a periwinkle blue color and the eyes weren't only circular in shape but were also a very shiny silver color. He, like Lhaklar and Hazaar, had an upside down, teardrop-shaped head that had two holes where a nose would normally be and an O-shaped mouth in it; like his brothers, he had suction cups on the ends of each of his fingers. Unlike Lhaklar, who was bald, and Hazaar, who had a deep purple rattail, he had a two inch wide, horizontal row of bristly, brick-red hair on his head.
"You was quite bald when you was a baby," he remembered his mother telling him once. "Your hair didn't start coming in until after you was brought home; it became very noticeable at six months of age."
He was glad that he had hair—he thought that he'd look funny without having any hair on his head. Like his two full-brothers, he had no viewable ears on his head.
Like his brothers, he had just a white towel wrapped around his lower half; his muscles were all out and in the open thanks to this. His lean body, which looked a good deal like Hazaar's own, was teeming in good muscle. He had a good, hard chest and a nicely developed six-pack; his arms, and legs, were very nicely muscled while his back could use some work. While his back had some muscle on it it wasn't as finely muscled as Lhaklar's was—he had been hoping to fix this while on Earth; now that he was on Moas, he wasn't so sure if he'd get the chance to do so.
While some might be flattered at the mention of being unique from their siblings he wasn't but so flattered over what told him apart from Bile, Lhaklar, and Hazaar. He had inherited a mild-severe form of photo sensitivity in his left eye from his father, who, he had been told, had a severe case of the sensitivity in both of his eyes. This sensitivity that he had bothered him greatly—he couldn't be normal like everyone else could thanks to it. The skin around his left eye was a dark blue color; he had suffered the effects of his photo sensitivity for a while before his mother had helped him by getting him some drops to reverse the sensitivity's effects.
He hoped that the long tenure that he had gone through in experiencing the pain that the sun had caused him to go through after he had been caught out in the open didn't cause his eye issues to get worse.
"What time is it?" Lazeer asked after exiting the bathroom.
"Nearly eight in the morning." Bile replied. "Why?"
"Very wise of you to ask that question when you damn well know what the answer is." Hazaar snapped. "It's been more than ten hours since our last meal was "delivered" to us."
"Foooooood, must haaaave!" Lazeer moaned. He rubbed his stomach once before going over to where Bile was; once at his oldest brother's side, he grabbed his arm then held it up. "This'll do."
"Man you sink your teeth into me and you'll have a problem." Bile pulled his arm out from Lazeer's grip.
After taking his arm from his brother's grasp, he went towards the just vacated bathroom to do nothing in or out of the ordinary. He neither used the toilet, or swished his mouth out with water, or threw water on his face—he just went into the bedroom then looked at his mirror-made reflection.
None of his brothers were short by any means; Lhaklar was the next tallest to him while Hazaar was the final one in the line. Lazeer, who was six feet tall, was between Lhaklar and Hazaar on the "height" chart. In regards to the line, he was stationed at its front—he was six foot, three inches; his body matched that height well. As much as it pained him to think it, he resembled more his father than his mother; he didn't look a single bit like his brothers at all.
The body that he possessed was evenly divided in color; his left side was yellow while his right side was green. The eyes that looked out from his face were a glowing yellow-green color; the small pupils that were in their centers were black. His ears were elongated; not only did they go half the length of his shoulders but they were a dark green color. The light green, Tiger-like stripes that were on them contrasted vibrantly against the background color. The skeletal right shoulder; the right arm, that was skeletal from the elbow on down to his wrist; and his skeletal knees had all come from his father. The fingernails, that were coming out from the ends of his fingers, were both long, sharp, and were a dark yellow color; the toenails that came out from the ends of his toes were the same color as his fingernails but they were kept short.
After taking in his reflection, then the matter that came out from the ends of his fingers and toes, he looked down at the body that he possessed. He had worked hard to get his body to be the way it was; he was damn proud of how he looked. His chest was thickly muscled; the six-pack that was on his abs was very finely toned and powerful looking; and his arms were very big and very finely muscled. His lower half was a little less extreme in muscle—this meant nothing because he was strong down there too. The legs that he possessed had a decent amount of muscle on them.
Along with being strong, he was also very well in-tune with his speed and stamina—he was an extremely fast individual; an example of this had been given when he had been a student at Pronghorn Academy of Sorcery and Magic. His father's mile-run record had been blasted to smithereens by him; it had once been set at 2:06:54... it stood as 1:48:12 now. He had also broken the mile and a quarter record, which had been placed by his grandfather, KurukVile Shonsinu Surfeit—it now stood at 2:00:45—, and the mile and a half record, which had been set by his uncle, TriskullVile Vuupipii Surfeit—that baby still stood at 2:04:01. He had also broken the record that had been placed over a hundred thousand years ago by another member of his family—a man named RosolVile Yilsivoor Surfeit. His record for two whole miles still stood at 2:36:34.
Besides running track, he had also done wrestling—he had gotten some awards, trophies, and plaques from that. His mother had done as any other good parent should in attending each of his track and wrestling meets; even though her hair had been dyed a different color he had still known who she was and he had still felt a great amount of love for her. His ma had wasted not a second in rushing down to see him after he either crossed the finish line or was declared the winner of one of his wrestling meets; no one had put two-and-two together on who she was or, for the matter, who he was.
When he opened his mouth, to give his reflection a little silliness, he noted the fangs that were on his top and bottom jaws; after giving his reflection The Tongue, and then flipping it off with his middle finger, he left the bathroom.
"So, who's going to be the unlucky victim to be eaten by us poor, hungry boys?" Lazeer was asking when he left the bathroom. "It can't be Lhaklar—he's too thin; there's not enough meat on his bones. It can't be Hazaar either—although he has a little more meat on his bones he doesn't have much more that Lhaklar. And it can't be me—I'm too damn sexy to be eaten."
"Why don't I cook and eat all three of you?" Bile said. He licked his lips evilly. "Between the three of you, there's plenty of meat to go around."
"Then what will we eat?" Hazaar asked. "Ghosts can't eat—I'll probably haunt you for the rest of your life but I can't eat or drink anything after I've been cooked and then eaten."
"You'll find yourself to be a very lonely man if you cook and eat us." Lhaklar, who was sustaining a chuckle, said. "You'll be walking around all alone—there won't be any of us around to bug you apey."
"Just you and your old, hideously ugly mug." Lazeer said.
"How will I be lonely when I have you three haunting me?" Bile asked.
"Don't look at me, sweetheart." their mother said when Lhaklar looked at her. "You boys have to make the decision on who gets eaten and who doesn't."
"Boooooooo!" Lazeer exclaimed before laughing.
The woman, who was all huddled up in one of the room's corners, was the one who had gone through so much both before and after her first pregnancy; not only had his ma been chased around, and then beaten countless times by her pursuers, but she had also been raped time and again by his father. Unlike his brothers, who had been accepted right after the pregnancy had been noted, he hadn't been accepted right away. Ma had wanted nothing to do with him; she had spoken bad of him, and had said that she wasn't going to take care of him, before escaping her father's palace on Gamma Vile and then returning to Earth, where she had spent some weeks fending for both herself and his unborn self. From what she had told him, it was the fending for the both of them in the cruel deserts of Egypt, and then the event of her holding him for the first time, that had done the trick in her accepting him as her child.
This woman was the one that they regarded with such respect and love... really, their love for her had no definition to it—they loved her so much that it was sometimes scary.
Along with giving her respect and love, they were also quite protective of her; during each of the visitations that occurred on the ship, they had come close to attacking their father after he had dared to place a hand to her abdomen—while he had come close to swinging a fist at the man for his hand placing Lhaklar had actually jumped at the man and then brought him down to his knees. Hazaar and Lazeer had come close to giving the man a big shove after he went to straighten their mother after placing his hand on her abdomen.
The name of the woman who was in the corner was Angel Irene—to their recollection, the Vile-Surfeit name that was being pinned to her had never been used by her. The "surname" that everyone seemed to like calling their mother by had come from their mother's two marriages—their mother had been taken as a sort of wife by Master Vile, who's surname was Vile, and then she had been given as a Universal Wife to TazirVile Lajoshu Surfeit, who's surname was, naturally, Surfeit.
She had passed something down to all of them. A color variant of her emerald-green eyes, which had a single, golden-yellow ring around a single black pupil, had been passed down to both he and Lhaklar—his green half, and his yellow-green eyes, had come from this part of hers. Even though Lhaklar's mint green skin and pistachio colored eyes had come from her their father had also had a hand in making him have the colors that he had to him. Her hair, which was a very vibrant, fiery red color, had also been passed down to them—along with carrying a gene for her hair color her hair color had also mingled in with their father's skin complexion to make Hazaar have deep purple eyes and hair. Lazeer's brick-red hair had also come from her—his hair was a color variant of her own.
Her skin was honey colored; she had a petite body, that had some muscle on it; she stood five foot, seven inches tall; and she had a heart-shaped face.
Their mother was wearing a pair of black slacks; the short sleeve, low-cut blouse that she was wearing over her top half was purple and made of a satin-y material—Hazaar had found this one day when he had been scrounging for things at the Green River, Wyoming dump. After cleaning it well, he had given it to her. The brown leather boots that were on her feet had come from Lazeer two Christmases ago. She wore no makeup; with the exception of the ring that she was wearing on her left hand, she had no jewelry on herself.
"Ma, are you okay?" Bile asked. He, ever since early childhood, always called his mother ma or mama. "Y'look a bit squished up over there."
"Only doing so to stop the stomach gurgles," his mother replied. "I'm just as hungry as you four are... and I'm a bit cold."
"Son pile up time!" Lazeer exclaimed. He started walking towards his mother. "Ma's cold, we m—"
"You're much too sweet, Lazie." Angel said to her fourthborn son. "I'll be fine, you four stretch them cramped muscles. It shouldn't be long before breakfast is brought up to us."
"You're still going to cook for us aren't you, momma?" Hazaar asked.
"Of course honey." Angel said. "Wouldn't stop cooking for my babies for the world."
"That's a relief!" Bile breathed. "Had me worried there—no food cooked by my mama? I needs my mama's good cookin' in me."
"Hazaar, don't ask." Angel said when she saw the question form on her thirdborn son's lips about her natural milk. "I haven't had anything to eat for several hours now—you, as well as your brothers, know that I'm dry and will be until I eat something."
"And then it'll take a few hours before we can get some of our favorite beverage." Lhaklar said, he then sighed. "You don't think—"
"Lhakie, as long as I'm still producing milk you four will continue to get it." Angel said. "No one is going to stop that—you four are still growing, and my milk helps you four gain the antibodies and proteins that you need to keep healthy and strong."
"I love you, mama." Bile said.
"I love you too, Biley."
"I love ya, momma." Hazaar said. He walked over then gave his mother a hug.
"Mmmm, goodness me is it me or do your hugs get warmer with each giving?" Angel said after her son hugged her. She hugged Hazaar back. "I love you too, Hazie."
"Me too! Meeeeee toooooo! I loves me mom!" Lazeer exclaimed.
"Silly thing—I love you too." Angel chuckled lightly. She then looked over at Lhaklar. "And I love you as well, Lhakie-Boo."
"Lhakie-Boo!" Lhaklar exclaimed. The corners of his O-shaped mouth curved up gently. "Mommy! You are my mommy!"
"I am, yes. Have always and will always be." Angel said.