The Last Home Recording.
Dismas
April 16, 1949. 411.
"It's been a while since I was in Sheffield," Dis said idly, slipping a hand into his coat pocket. Looking up to the rainy England sky, he smiled just a little, though it didn't reach his eyes. "1564. I certainly missed the raids by a couple centuries. I'm sure they're working hard to fix the place up, but it looks like shit."
He laughed softly, stepping forward and lifting his hand up to rub the rain off his face. He could do a spell to cover the area and keep the rain out, but he didn't feel up to it. "War does that. Did you know... there have been over a hundred since I left this city? Well over a hundred. And that's not even counting what the recent news teams deem unimportant."
Sighing, he lowered his hand and rested it on worn stone. "I'm surprised you're still here, to be honest. Not many places were spared in the bombings. Then again, you guys lasted longer than anyone else we knew."
For a long moment he was silent, looking down at where his hand rested. Crouching down, he kept his hand where it was, lifting the other one and setting the bouquet he'd been holding down in front of the gravestone. After another sad smile, he traced the words on the face quietly with his fingers. "Except me. I should've come back long before now. I'm sorry."
Abele
August 27, 1990. 12.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?"
Abele sighed as his mother flitted about him, adjusting his suit and tie, even trying to lick the palm of her hand to smooth his hair down. He swatted at her at that point, refusing to allow his hair--which he'd styled himself!--to be messed up by a motherhen. "Mamma!"
She smiled up at him, looking sheepish when she realized what she was doing. With another sigh, Abe smiled back at her, and leaned to kiss her cheek. "I'll be fine. This isn't my first concert, you know."
"Right," Rosabella admitted, though couldn't help but straighten his jacket for the millionth time that night. He allowed it, if only because it seemed to calm her nerves. "But this is a really big one! You know, I didn't have a concert like this until I was much older than you. And your father--"
Trying to keep a straight face as his mother abruptly stopped and fidgeted with the hair tucked behind her ear, Abe reached to take both of her hands in his. "He'll come, and everything will be okay. It was just a misunderstanding, mamma."
Except they both knew that it wasn't. His father had been caught cheating, and by his own son, no less. But Abe had to say something to soothe Rosabella. Even if he hoped that his father didn't show up, stayed at whatever pub he'd run off to this time. It helped, if only a little, and she gave him a strained smile, touching his cheek. "When did my baby get to be so grown up?"
Practically glowing, Abe grinned down at her. "When I got taller than you!" he teased, laughing as he accepted the smack to his arm with no complaints. It distracted her. That was all that mattered. "I have to go now, and you need to go take your seat. I don't want you missing your song."
With a proud smile, Rosabella nodded, putting her arms around him in a tight, though brief, hug that he returned. "The stage is all yours, Abele. You knock'em dead."
Nikolais
March 23, 1993. 10.
Dmitri Turov's birth had been one whole big process. They had to go to the Family's favored hospital, the one that was paid off and had undercover members hiding all throughout it. Bodyguards were placed everywhere on every floor for added security. Pyotr even wanted to have an entire floor closed down just for his wife, but Grigori told him he wasn't going to allow him to kick out patients just so Lidiya could have a floor to herself.
In the middle of it all, Nik watched the adults run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Leaning against a wall out of the way with his hands in his pockets, he frowned at nothing in particular. He scuffed his boot against the clean, white floor of the hospital and tried to count how many hours they'd been there off the top of his head. He couldn't get any rest in the waiting room (who could with Lidiya screeching like that), so he settled instead on watching Pyotr pace around the room. A trail of ash and forgotten cigarettes followed him around throughout the night, marking where he'd been in the room.
Grigori sat next to where he stood, both hands rested on his cane as he watched Pyotr patiently. He'd been through many births over the years, this was hardly anything new. He was the only one that remained calm when Lidiya stopped yelling and everything went quiet for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock as Pyotr stopped pacing. Even Nik glanced towards the doors to the room she was delivering in. The silence was broken only seconds later by the most ear-piercing wail in history. The doctor came out shortly after it calmed down, holding the door open for the three of them. "Congratulations, Mr. Turov. Your son's got some lungs on him."
While Pyotr nearly ran into the room to see his wife and son, Nik and Grigori followed him at their own leisure. The current head of the family stood in the doorway while the two of them moved to Lidiya's bedside. She looked exhausted, and he couldn't blame her. She'd been in labor for a while, and the only thing keeping her from doing a C-section to get it over with faster was not wanting a scar.
Smiling tiredly at the two of them, she shifted to sit up a bit more, holding out the blue-wrapped bundle to Nik. "Here, Nikolais. This is Dmitri."
Awkwardly taking the newborn and trying to support him in all the right places, he cradled him in his arm and looked down at him. The baby stared back up at him and held his hands up, squinting against the light. Unsure of what to do, Nik offered him a finger, unable to keep from smiling when he grabbed at it. "This is your brother."
Klahan
September 7, 2001. 16.
"You fucker!"
Klahan landed with a slam against his bedroom wall, sliding to the floor, though was still grinning even as he wiped blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "Yeah, that's an accurate statement this time around."
Shaking her fist out, his sister stalked through his doorway and stood over him. "I can't believe you!" Malai shrieked, getting the attention of the entire house if they hadn't already gotten it.
Glancing down at the blood on his hand, Klahan let out a disinterested noise in the back of his throat. "I can't believe your boyfriend turned out to be a faggot," he said sarcastically.
Another shriek rang out through the house, and the siblings that had gathered outside his room all winced when Malai punched him again. Instead of retaliating immediately, Klahan simply licked his bleeding lip, wiping his hand clean on the thigh of his jeans. "He came up to me before study hall today and broke up with me! I had to corner him before he left school to get an answer! It was one of your fucking mind tricks, wasn't it!? That was how you got him to sleep with you!"
Once he was standing again, Klahan couldn't resist it. "These aren't the droids you're looking for," he smirked when she snarled and pulled her fist back to hit him again. The look on her face quickly went to that of surprise when he was the one to strike first, backhanding her hard enough to knock her off balance and onto her ass. He wasn't about to punch his sister, but he was going to defend himself. "First of all, you must've been blind if you hadn't noticed that there was something off about Evan. He wasn't dating you because he liked you. Second, I didn't have to do anything. He wanted me to fuck him."
"Klahan."
He glanced up when their mother appeared in the doorway, small and tired and angry with them both (mostly him), but still holding the first aid kit in case it was needed. Dusting his ass off, he moved past Malai as she rubbed at her cheek, in shock from the hit and what he was saying. Gently placing his hand on his mother's shoulder, he began to lead her out of the room. He paused, however, to glance back at his sister, smiling easily. "I hope we can still be friends after all this, Mal."
Qaniit
November 14, 2004. 18.
Zachariah
February 9, 1996. 9.
Benjamin
June 12, 2004. 16.
Viraja
May 24, 2007. 15.
Dmitri
January 7, 1998. 5.
Kalani
December 25, 2000. 6.
Subeta
10 snapshots in 10 lives.
April 16, 1949. 411.
"It's been a while since I was in Sheffield," Dis said idly, slipping a hand into his coat pocket. Looking up to the rainy England sky, he smiled just a little, though it didn't reach his eyes. "1564. I certainly missed the raids by a couple centuries. I'm sure they're working hard to fix the place up, but it looks like shit."
He laughed softly, stepping forward and lifting his hand up to rub the rain off his face. He could do a spell to cover the area and keep the rain out, but he didn't feel up to it. "War does that. Did you know... there have been over a hundred since I left this city? Well over a hundred. And that's not even counting what the recent news teams deem unimportant."
Sighing, he lowered his hand and rested it on worn stone. "I'm surprised you're still here, to be honest. Not many places were spared in the bombings. Then again, you guys lasted longer than anyone else we knew."
For a long moment he was silent, looking down at where his hand rested. Crouching down, he kept his hand where it was, lifting the other one and setting the bouquet he'd been holding down in front of the gravestone. After another sad smile, he traced the words on the face quietly with his fingers. "Except me. I should've come back long before now. I'm sorry."
Abele
August 27, 1990. 12.
"Are you sure you'll be all right?"
Abele sighed as his mother flitted about him, adjusting his suit and tie, even trying to lick the palm of her hand to smooth his hair down. He swatted at her at that point, refusing to allow his hair--which he'd styled himself!--to be messed up by a motherhen. "Mamma!"
She smiled up at him, looking sheepish when she realized what she was doing. With another sigh, Abe smiled back at her, and leaned to kiss her cheek. "I'll be fine. This isn't my first concert, you know."
"Right," Rosabella admitted, though couldn't help but straighten his jacket for the millionth time that night. He allowed it, if only because it seemed to calm her nerves. "But this is a really big one! You know, I didn't have a concert like this until I was much older than you. And your father--"
Trying to keep a straight face as his mother abruptly stopped and fidgeted with the hair tucked behind her ear, Abe reached to take both of her hands in his. "He'll come, and everything will be okay. It was just a misunderstanding, mamma."
Except they both knew that it wasn't. His father had been caught cheating, and by his own son, no less. But Abe had to say something to soothe Rosabella. Even if he hoped that his father didn't show up, stayed at whatever pub he'd run off to this time. It helped, if only a little, and she gave him a strained smile, touching his cheek. "When did my baby get to be so grown up?"
Practically glowing, Abe grinned down at her. "When I got taller than you!" he teased, laughing as he accepted the smack to his arm with no complaints. It distracted her. That was all that mattered. "I have to go now, and you need to go take your seat. I don't want you missing your song."
With a proud smile, Rosabella nodded, putting her arms around him in a tight, though brief, hug that he returned. "The stage is all yours, Abele. You knock'em dead."
Nikolais
March 23, 1993. 10.
Dmitri Turov's birth had been one whole big process. They had to go to the Family's favored hospital, the one that was paid off and had undercover members hiding all throughout it. Bodyguards were placed everywhere on every floor for added security. Pyotr even wanted to have an entire floor closed down just for his wife, but Grigori told him he wasn't going to allow him to kick out patients just so Lidiya could have a floor to herself.
In the middle of it all, Nik watched the adults run around like chickens with their heads cut off. Leaning against a wall out of the way with his hands in his pockets, he frowned at nothing in particular. He scuffed his boot against the clean, white floor of the hospital and tried to count how many hours they'd been there off the top of his head. He couldn't get any rest in the waiting room (who could with Lidiya screeching like that), so he settled instead on watching Pyotr pace around the room. A trail of ash and forgotten cigarettes followed him around throughout the night, marking where he'd been in the room.
Grigori sat next to where he stood, both hands rested on his cane as he watched Pyotr patiently. He'd been through many births over the years, this was hardly anything new. He was the only one that remained calm when Lidiya stopped yelling and everything went quiet for a moment, the only sound being the ticking of the clock as Pyotr stopped pacing. Even Nik glanced towards the doors to the room she was delivering in. The silence was broken only seconds later by the most ear-piercing wail in history. The doctor came out shortly after it calmed down, holding the door open for the three of them. "Congratulations, Mr. Turov. Your son's got some lungs on him."
While Pyotr nearly ran into the room to see his wife and son, Nik and Grigori followed him at their own leisure. The current head of the family stood in the doorway while the two of them moved to Lidiya's bedside. She looked exhausted, and he couldn't blame her. She'd been in labor for a while, and the only thing keeping her from doing a C-section to get it over with faster was not wanting a scar.
Smiling tiredly at the two of them, she shifted to sit up a bit more, holding out the blue-wrapped bundle to Nik. "Here, Nikolais. This is Dmitri."
Awkwardly taking the newborn and trying to support him in all the right places, he cradled him in his arm and looked down at him. The baby stared back up at him and held his hands up, squinting against the light. Unsure of what to do, Nik offered him a finger, unable to keep from smiling when he grabbed at it. "This is your brother."
Klahan
September 7, 2001. 16.
"You fucker!"
Klahan landed with a slam against his bedroom wall, sliding to the floor, though was still grinning even as he wiped blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "Yeah, that's an accurate statement this time around."
Shaking her fist out, his sister stalked through his doorway and stood over him. "I can't believe you!" Malai shrieked, getting the attention of the entire house if they hadn't already gotten it.
Glancing down at the blood on his hand, Klahan let out a disinterested noise in the back of his throat. "I can't believe your boyfriend turned out to be a faggot," he said sarcastically.
Another shriek rang out through the house, and the siblings that had gathered outside his room all winced when Malai punched him again. Instead of retaliating immediately, Klahan simply licked his bleeding lip, wiping his hand clean on the thigh of his jeans. "He came up to me before study hall today and broke up with me! I had to corner him before he left school to get an answer! It was one of your fucking mind tricks, wasn't it!? That was how you got him to sleep with you!"
Once he was standing again, Klahan couldn't resist it. "These aren't the droids you're looking for," he smirked when she snarled and pulled her fist back to hit him again. The look on her face quickly went to that of surprise when he was the one to strike first, backhanding her hard enough to knock her off balance and onto her ass. He wasn't about to punch his sister, but he was going to defend himself. "First of all, you must've been blind if you hadn't noticed that there was something off about Evan. He wasn't dating you because he liked you. Second, I didn't have to do anything. He wanted me to fuck him."
"Klahan."
He glanced up when their mother appeared in the doorway, small and tired and angry with them both (mostly him), but still holding the first aid kit in case it was needed. Dusting his ass off, he moved past Malai as she rubbed at her cheek, in shock from the hit and what he was saying. Gently placing his hand on his mother's shoulder, he began to lead her out of the room. He paused, however, to glance back at his sister, smiling easily. "I hope we can still be friends after all this, Mal."
Qaniit
November 14, 2004. 18.
Zachariah
February 9, 1996. 9.
Benjamin
June 12, 2004. 16.
Viraja
May 24, 2007. 15.
Dmitri
January 7, 1998. 5.
Kalani
December 25, 2000. 6.
Subeta
10 snapshots in 10 lives.