When in his castle, Ramon doesn't tend to use doors as much as you'd expect the average person to. But then again, since when was he even remotely like the average person in any way?
The castellan is first peering at his wife from an opening above one of the bedroom's doorways, his eyes glinting and shining like a cat's. Then he crawls through, lizard-like, and looks down at Hips with curiosity.
"What do you have there, mi amor?" He asks. From up on the ceiling. Oh, Ramon.
He's asking her. After all the awful things he's heard about the man, Ramon isn't so certain that he wants to put a face to the dreadful person. He was content just lumping him into that amorphous, faceless percentage of humanity that he hates. Which is a large one. Significantly so.
She just shrugs. "I'm not upset, if that's what you're wondering. And it's not like he's here. I asked Holly to see if my uncle Frank had any pictures of me as a kid, and...well..."
She gestures at the computer with a vague sort of 'go ahead' wave of her hand.
"I didn't really...I mean, I wanted to talk to you about it first...I just thought Samuel Miguel was a nice name, that's all, and it just slipped out..."
D'oh. Um. She covers her mistake by grasping her husband's hands tighter, trying to pull him back closer to her. She realizes belatedly that she just scared the poor man. He must have thought she was hearing something else.
"Can't you hear it, too? I mean, you're the master plaga around here, daddy."
He stops. Reaches out with his parasite, listening closely for the sounds of that developing, infant one. And all he can 'hear' is the sweet, familiar song of his wife's, which is even happier than usual thanks to her bliss over coming in contact with her child like this.
But then he realizes if he links into hers, and then feels a little ways past it, like looking through gauze...He can hear another, tinier song. One that makes even less verbal sense than any other parasite he's heard before. It doesn't translate into rational thought processes like humanoid carriers. It doesn't translate into wants and input like animal carriers. It's simple, content musical communication, simply putting out little pulses of warmth and existence. It's simply saying that it's there.
"I know! I know!" She's grinning so big she's about ready to cry, her hands shaking over Ramon's.
She'd had half-formed hints, sweet little clues that the child forming in her womb was capable of this sort of thing, but then was never one hundred percent sure that she just wasn't imagining it. This, though...this is not her imagination. It's the voice of her son. And, yes, she knows that it's a son, now, no question. The ultrasounds of the last few months had been disappointing, in that respect. So many legs in the way meant that they had no clear view as to the baby's gender.
But now she knows. He's most definitely a he. And his delicate, wordless, joyous song of life and love is the most beautiful thing she's ever experienced in her life.
Ramon lapses into silence for nearly five minutes after that, listening to their infant. That heartbeat of a soul.
"...I can't hear it unless I listen through you, though." He doesn't sound disappointed, he's just informing her. "But-...Dios, that's beautiful." He doesn't want to stop listening now that he knows it's there.
Comments 42
The castellan is first peering at his wife from an opening above one of the bedroom's doorways, his eyes glinting and shining like a cat's. Then he crawls through, lizard-like, and looks down at Hips with curiosity.
"What do you have there, mi amor?" He asks. From up on the ceiling. Oh, Ramon.
Reply
She glances up at him, a wry little half-smirk on her face.
"Something I thought I'd lost. Wanna see what my father looked like?"
Reply
He's asking her. After all the awful things he's heard about the man, Ramon isn't so certain that he wants to put a face to the dreadful person. He was content just lumping him into that amorphous, faceless percentage of humanity that he hates. Which is a large one. Significantly so.
Reply
She gestures at the computer with a vague sort of 'go ahead' wave of her hand.
Reply
"I didn't really...I mean, I wanted to talk to you about it first...I just thought Samuel Miguel was a nice name, that's all, and it just slipped out..."
D'oh. Um. She covers her mistake by grasping her husband's hands tighter, trying to pull him back closer to her. She realizes belatedly that she just scared the poor man. He must have thought she was hearing something else.
"Can't you hear it, too? I mean, you're the master plaga around here, daddy."
Reply
He stops. Reaches out with his parasite, listening closely for the sounds of that developing, infant one. And all he can 'hear' is the sweet, familiar song of his wife's, which is even happier than usual thanks to her bliss over coming in contact with her child like this.
But then he realizes if he links into hers, and then feels a little ways past it, like looking through gauze...He can hear another, tinier song. One that makes even less verbal sense than any other parasite he's heard before. It doesn't translate into rational thought processes like humanoid carriers. It doesn't translate into wants and input like animal carriers. It's simple, content musical communication, simply putting out little pulses of warmth and existence. It's simply saying that it's there.
"...Oh dios."
Reply
She'd had half-formed hints, sweet little clues that the child forming in her womb was capable of this sort of thing, but then was never one hundred percent sure that she just wasn't imagining it. This, though...this is not her imagination. It's the voice of her son. And, yes, she knows that it's a son, now, no question. The ultrasounds of the last few months had been disappointing, in that respect. So many legs in the way meant that they had no clear view as to the baby's gender.
But now she knows. He's most definitely a he. And his delicate, wordless, joyous song of life and love is the most beautiful thing she's ever experienced in her life.
Reply
Ramon lapses into silence for nearly five minutes after that, listening to their infant. That heartbeat of a soul.
"...I can't hear it unless I listen through you, though." He doesn't sound disappointed, he's just informing her. "But-...Dios, that's beautiful." He doesn't want to stop listening now that he knows it's there.
Reply
Leave a comment