Post by Kitty on Mar 20, 2011 12:40:10 GMT -5
Characters: Osias, Morpheus, briefly Finistris
Word Count: 804
Blurb: So this is how you bond with Osias. Some Mo/Osias bonding that's been twenty-something years in the making. Second part will be a bit better.... but I just didn't want ot make the peices too long.
Kinda put into perspective just how long Finios has been around if you think about it, lol.
Nat, if I gauged his reaction wrong, lemme know, I just sort of think he doesn't like it.... but he -gets- it.
_________________
Osias had been quite surprised when his eldest child, well, that he cared to acknowledge were his, came to him requesting some lessons. He could tell it killed the narcissistic man to ask for any sort of help, but he did it anyway. So he wanted to learn some tricks for fighting up close and personal, eh? Well, he was getting old, but he figured he could still give the younger lowlander a run for his money. No, not just a run for his money…. He’d kick his ass.
He’d paused before answering the weasel/rat, letting him suffer a bit before nodding and taking the lesson to a place they probably wouldn’t be bothered. Finally, he was being taken seriously by Morpheus. It had only taken what, twenty something years for that to happen? Boy would have been a lot better off if he’d started caring a long time ago, but that was the beauty of youth wasn’t it? Ah, to be young and stupid again. Well, actually…. He wouldn’t appreciate that much. The young part, yeah, stupid? Definitely not. And it totally figured that Morpheus would be late.
He might as well get ready then. He removed his trench coat, tossing it to the ground, and started cracking each of his knuckles individually. He heard steps behind him and tilted his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck twice and turning around. Green, purple, frilly… yup, Morpheus.
“You’re late… as usual. Don’t waste anymore of my time, take the first shot.”
He held his hands up and out, smirking at his eldest child, knowing it’d get a little bit of a rise out of him. They each had a talent for getting on each others last nerve in the blink of an eye after all.
Truth be told, Morpheus was actually a little nervous about this whole process, and it was a giant blow to his pride … but it was ultimately necessary. Resta … if he ever ran into anyone else like that, he needed to get better. He’d be able to do most of it on his own, his weapon and magic skills namely, but his parents…. They could help with his close combat skills and with his summons. He was damned and determined not to let another foe catch him off guard like that. At the very least, he could wipe that smug expression off his mother’s face.
He clenched his fists, narrowed his eyes and rushed the older man, taking a swing at his face and hoping to blacken his other eye. Osias stayed put and merely dropped to his knees at the last second, bringing up a fist and catching his son squarely in the stomach. Mo coughed and fell gracelessly, not to mention face first, into the dirt as his mother got to his feet, turned, and started to laugh. But …. He had agreed to teach too, hadn’t he? Damn.
“You swing too high, you’re too obvious and you’re not in tune with your own movements … unless you’re fighting a complete dumb ass, they’re not going to stand there and let you whomp on them. Get up, come at me again.”
Mo scowled, but hauled himself back up to his feet and went at the rat again. This process repeated it’s self for two full hours. Morpheus was tired, bruised and sore, but he made one more run at the still completely unscathed, totally confident man. Osias was getting a little too into the process by this point and took advantage of his son’s sluggishness and jumped up, activating his flight ability briefly, just enough to gain the proper altitude, before dropping it completely and planting both boots squarely on the taller man’s lower back, laughing even harder as he stood on him and ground the heel of his boot into his spine.
Morpheus got a face full of dirt as pain traveled up his spine and made him gasp and attempt to free himself. Osias crouched, one hand holding his son’s collar as his other hand crept down toward where he kept his dagger. His fingertips grazed the handle, before a voice, it’s tone so clear, direct and commanding, made him stop.
“Osias, dear, that’s enough.”
His fingers twitched and he gritted his teeth for a moment before he stood up, stepped off Morpheus and started to walk away. Finistris had probably been watching the whole time, he wouldn't doubt that.... well, unless the man had some supreme sense of intuition or some garbage like that. The latter he tended not to believe but, hell, anything was possible, eh?
“Feh.”
Word Count: 804
Blurb: So this is how you bond with Osias. Some Mo/Osias bonding that's been twenty-something years in the making. Second part will be a bit better.... but I just didn't want ot make the peices too long.
Kinda put into perspective just how long Finios has been around if you think about it, lol.
Nat, if I gauged his reaction wrong, lemme know, I just sort of think he doesn't like it.... but he -gets- it.
_________________
Osias had been quite surprised when his eldest child, well, that he cared to acknowledge were his, came to him requesting some lessons. He could tell it killed the narcissistic man to ask for any sort of help, but he did it anyway. So he wanted to learn some tricks for fighting up close and personal, eh? Well, he was getting old, but he figured he could still give the younger lowlander a run for his money. No, not just a run for his money…. He’d kick his ass.
He’d paused before answering the weasel/rat, letting him suffer a bit before nodding and taking the lesson to a place they probably wouldn’t be bothered. Finally, he was being taken seriously by Morpheus. It had only taken what, twenty something years for that to happen? Boy would have been a lot better off if he’d started caring a long time ago, but that was the beauty of youth wasn’t it? Ah, to be young and stupid again. Well, actually…. He wouldn’t appreciate that much. The young part, yeah, stupid? Definitely not. And it totally figured that Morpheus would be late.
He might as well get ready then. He removed his trench coat, tossing it to the ground, and started cracking each of his knuckles individually. He heard steps behind him and tilted his head from one side to the other, cracking his neck twice and turning around. Green, purple, frilly… yup, Morpheus.
“You’re late… as usual. Don’t waste anymore of my time, take the first shot.”
He held his hands up and out, smirking at his eldest child, knowing it’d get a little bit of a rise out of him. They each had a talent for getting on each others last nerve in the blink of an eye after all.
Truth be told, Morpheus was actually a little nervous about this whole process, and it was a giant blow to his pride … but it was ultimately necessary. Resta … if he ever ran into anyone else like that, he needed to get better. He’d be able to do most of it on his own, his weapon and magic skills namely, but his parents…. They could help with his close combat skills and with his summons. He was damned and determined not to let another foe catch him off guard like that. At the very least, he could wipe that smug expression off his mother’s face.
He clenched his fists, narrowed his eyes and rushed the older man, taking a swing at his face and hoping to blacken his other eye. Osias stayed put and merely dropped to his knees at the last second, bringing up a fist and catching his son squarely in the stomach. Mo coughed and fell gracelessly, not to mention face first, into the dirt as his mother got to his feet, turned, and started to laugh. But …. He had agreed to teach too, hadn’t he? Damn.
“You swing too high, you’re too obvious and you’re not in tune with your own movements … unless you’re fighting a complete dumb ass, they’re not going to stand there and let you whomp on them. Get up, come at me again.”
Mo scowled, but hauled himself back up to his feet and went at the rat again. This process repeated it’s self for two full hours. Morpheus was tired, bruised and sore, but he made one more run at the still completely unscathed, totally confident man. Osias was getting a little too into the process by this point and took advantage of his son’s sluggishness and jumped up, activating his flight ability briefly, just enough to gain the proper altitude, before dropping it completely and planting both boots squarely on the taller man’s lower back, laughing even harder as he stood on him and ground the heel of his boot into his spine.
Morpheus got a face full of dirt as pain traveled up his spine and made him gasp and attempt to free himself. Osias crouched, one hand holding his son’s collar as his other hand crept down toward where he kept his dagger. His fingertips grazed the handle, before a voice, it’s tone so clear, direct and commanding, made him stop.
“Osias, dear, that’s enough.”
His fingers twitched and he gritted his teeth for a moment before he stood up, stepped off Morpheus and started to walk away. Finistris had probably been watching the whole time, he wouldn't doubt that.... well, unless the man had some supreme sense of intuition or some garbage like that. The latter he tended not to believe but, hell, anything was possible, eh?
“Feh.”
