Idylls of the King

Jefferson Soul · 08-30-2010, 09:16 AM

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Geneva would have taken a dead crab for a present in stride. She would have thanked the pup and gingerly dismissed herself of the horrid little crustacean when the boy wasn't looking; Geneva had the parental instincts Jefferson perhaps did not, though the one-eyed father managed to slip by doing the best he could. Addison had been raised by them both, really, as Geneva had stood in as a caretaker whenever Phoenix Valley duties pulled the Patriarch away. It occurred to the father that Pripyat had considered eating the crab, which Jefferson made an unspeaking face to; the concept of killing an offending enemy and feasting on it not as prey but in vengeance, twisted the muscles in his stomach. "Your mother likes flowers," he suggested, shrugging his scarred shoulders. She was feminine enough to like those, right? The cyclops had never really... brought her gifts. "There's a bush of wildflowers on the other side of the lighthouse. We could pick some and bring them up to her instead. What do you say?" A smile touched on his features, albeit a hesitant one.

Geneva was still in the lighthouse, possibly asleep or just blissfully unaware of the Patriarch's presence. For now he had no reason to change that; the two still had some making up to do. Working with Pripyat might soften her, proving him as something capable of a father for their son and making her feel safer to return to the ranch. Ultimately, of course, that was her decision to make. Jefferson, though briefly considering scooping up the boy and carrying him, instead motioned with torn fingers and made his way around the lighthouse. He was not going to teach his son violence—flowers and peace would serve just fine. He would be raised in the ways of Phoenix Valley, not in the ways of Maluki. He didn't know how to answer why—but he could try and show Pripyat instead.

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