Return to your roots.

Jefferson Soul · 05-17-2011, 02:06 PM

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He watched amidst his rage and frustration as Pripyat broke beneath the pressure, much unlike his mother for once. No, Jefferson knew that from experience: Geneva might have backed steps away in surprise at the cyclops' outrage, but only to progress even closer with her next words. Pripyat was his mother's child in his feelings and heart, but Jefferson had no doubt that at the boy's core lingered traces of his father, traces of a stubborn man who would stop at nothing. After all, it was not Geneva's emotional tendencies that made it unable for Pripyat to forgive himself for his mistakes — no, that was his sinner father's demeanor shining through in the gray-furred boy.

Once his father's rage subsided, however, Pripyat grew back to his usual size and confidence, though still shallow at best. With a certain daring Jefferson very rarely saw in him, the boy laid a hand on the man's scarred shoulder; ordinarily the Patriarch might have shrugged the touch away, but he instead turned a sympathetic and sorry gaze to his son and attempted a small smile at his lips.

"It's all right," he sighed, reaching his remaining arm over the boy's shoulders and for a rare, sympathetic moment, hugged him close. Once releasing him, the father brushed away and out of his reach, looking out into the villa as if the olive-eyed goddess he knew so well lurked somewhere in waiting. "We will keep looking for her... for better or worse, we'll keep looking."

A long pause. "You have to stop blaming yourself, Pripyat."

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