If anything at all, Jasper was the odd one out in his family. He didn't hold the quick anger that his father seemed to, the arrogant ways he put off sometimes. He wasn't crazy, at least he didn't think so, like he often thought that his aunt was. Tegan, his closest sister, she was adventurous and rebellious, Jasper was not. Jasper was the quiet and broken type, often keeping to himself and speaking only with his ghost friend. The one quality that would keep him in the stereotype of his family was the love that he held, or moreso, for who he held it. Gin, his own cousin, and that was what made him a D'Angelo. "Nur ein wenig." He said quietly, nodding a bit before translating for her. "Just a little. I learned a bit on a boat with a bunch of Russian sailors." He didn't know what quite to call them other than sailors, they were more like traders. He'd met them in town at the docks, they'd offered to take him to where he needed to go if he agreed to help out. It was odd to him, really, how things worked so differently in the two places. He went from sailing country to country bartering goods to a place that didn't seem at all advanced like the places across seas. "My Aunt's name is D'Angelo. My mother's too." He spoke more quietly when he mentioned his mother, a sadness there. "Misery and Matinee." He hadn't seen his mother in ages. Jasper leaned over rather suddenly, digging about the pile of supplies that he'd gathered with the help of his sister. Finally, from beneath the pile, Jasper pulled out the book that he'd picked up while in the city. "I have this but I guess stuff like this is easier if you just do it. I wanna paint it, the inside of it, and I'm thinking I should do it before I put it together." It was a bit of a questioning statement, fishing for whether or not she agreed that he should paint it before putting it together. |