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Post by Anthony William Scott on Jun 7, 2013 8:41:15 GMT -5
Time was that there would have been some kind of continuity to his day outside the reliable wander home after work with dogs in tow. There had been something outside of the daily glass of whisky and scrounging for something in the fridge (or heading to one of the local restaurants). Of course, that was a long time past and that state of life was unlikely to be returning to him at any point. His life now was, well, different than it had been before all of the wars and all of the chaos. Once, it had been simple and he could count on a smile at the end of the day. Now, it was him and the dogs and the occasional visit from a kid. Outside of that, it was work and ignoring the urge to head off into the wilderness with nothing but the dogs and a back pack. Little enough wilderness remained, it only made sense that he should explore it before it was gone.
Today, however, he did not get to head off into the forest or even go sneer at the park. No, today he was responsible, as he had been since the new world started and he was given his small bit of what little power was shared. Although some would argue it, he personally didn’t feel too suited for responsibility half the time. He hadn’t been the responsible parent, that had been Elise and later his older sister as he ran the world ragged in his grief. He’d been the fun parent, the one who took the kids on hunting trips and was sometimes begged into tea parties by a little girl with bright blue eyes. And in that still bright past, things had gone from easy to too confused to handle. He still remembered calls from his sister that consisted of “when are you going to be back? Elizabeth is wondering where you are.” and his own mumbled half-responses. Father of the year award was not one that he would be winning any time soon.
Now, however, he was at least making an effort, in that he was speaking to two of his three children, the middle one still refusing to acknowledge his existence. Daryll and Liz were around enough that sometimes he could ignore that fact, even though it was once a week that he was tempted to open the box that held favorite toys for favorite books from their childhoods and find out what was going on. That, however, would be an invasion of privacy and, although convenient, cheating. He knew what it was like to not particularly like ones parents, he also knew how he would have reacted if his father had come after him once he was settled. In the end, accidentally ostracizing his younger son was one of his big regrets, but there was only so much that he could do to remedy that at this stage.
Tonight was not for moping, however. No, it was for trying to make up for lost time with one of his other children. He’d invited Liz over for dinner as a chance to catch up and see how she was doing with her practice and with life. It wasn’t by any means fancy, Anthony couldn’t cook much beyond what was easily done over a campfire, but it was something. It was the same damn macaroni recipe that his wife and his sister had concocted to feed the hordes when the family was gathered. Admittedly, they had normally taken the initiative and made a salad or something. Anthony, on his own and a few decades later, considered it a success when he managed to make the macaroni without burning it. He really was much more comfortable cooking meat over an open flame, but he was motivated to do something different, something a little more kid like. Sure, she was thirty, but that didn’t mean that in his eyes she had grown past the little girl forcing him into a skirt and tiara to play tea party.
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notes: finally, its up. he's being a dummy, it'll get better.
words: 675
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Post by Elizabeth Hannah Scott on Jun 21, 2013 15:51:36 GMT -5
Lizzie lately didn’t feel like having much energy to do anything. She just decided to spend as much time on work as possible. She went early, came home late, didn’t care whether the house was clean or dirty until things were piled up in the sinks and she had to do dishes or if she was running out of clothes that didn’t have to go to the dry cleaners. She just… Didn’t care much. She did her work, she helped humans who resistant to becoming pets, and treated normal vampires for any mental problems that were befalling them. But she was definitely ignoring her current mental state. She missed him. Dax that is. He just…ran away. He didn’t give her much of an explanation or any at all. She assumed he ran away like he usually did and would come home drunk and maybe with a girl on his arm, but after a few days she was worried. Especially after she found the wrist cuff he wore that signified she owned him stashed in a drawer. She hid her worry well from her father and brother but after a month without hearing from him she assumed he wouldn’t be coming back. Later she found a piece of paper in his room, in French, that said his father might be in a human camp in a different sector. Well that certainly helped. She almost called her father to tell him to bring Dax home but… She couldn’t do that, not to him. If he wanted to go find his father then she would let him. She wouldn’t send out a literal hunting party to find him, not if he wanted to spend the rest of his days with his father. So she let him be. His room, aside from her shuffling around in it to try and figure out where he went, remained untouched. The piano as well, though out of habit she’d walk into the room where it sat hoping to see Dax at the keys playing one of the tunes she told him was her favorite. She made sure it stayed dust free, in pristine and perfect condition. Just in case he ever decided to come home. But tonight she wouldn’t stay late at work, no she had dinner with her father tonight. She loved to spend time with her father and was more than happy to talk with him. She loved her father; she grew up not knowing how a father was supposed to act. He still let her drag him into tea parties when she was younger, and hide and seek games, she was also pretty sure she got him to play with dolls at one point. But her aunt was her disciplinarian, she was rarely yelled at by her father. In fact her brother Daryll said she was downright spoiled by him. She disagreed, but she always did. She liked to think her father treated her the same as he did her brothers. She went on hunting trips and he taught her how to shoot a gun and her affinity when she was in school manifested into one that would be perfect for the hunter lifestyle, literally. Perfect aim, with any weapon, which made her happy but at the same time her mark is of a sleeping wolf under the moon. She was part of the Scott hunting pack, but was the wolf that stayed behind to take care of the den. She’d go out to hunt if her father asked her to, but she often took care of the spoils they brought back home. Lizzie smiled as she walked up to the front steps of her childhood home. She unlocked the door to the house and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “Dad? I’m home.” She called out into the house, not knowing which room he was in. Though from the smell of mac and cheese she could assume that he was cooking dinner in the kitchen, which seemed to be the only food that he could make when at home. “Dinner smells good.” She said as she walked toward the kitchen. ------------- Notes: YAY I finally woke her up!! *happy dances* The ending was eh but I didn't know how to end it. It'll get better. And I asked Minty what she wanted to do with Dax so that's the ending we picked for him. I doubt it will turn into a plot but eh. Outfit: Clicky ^^Words: 688 |
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