[thread] speak like child
Who: Gilford, Merryweather
What: fluff? Finding Gilford, possibly teaching him about the comm device
When: Upon Gilford's arrival
Where: Library
Rating: G [subject to change; but these are cute little kids, I swear~ :D]
The area around the young person was, as always, a mess of papers and crushed crayons. Gilford couldn't begin to count the number of pictures he'd started, their dark and forboding images half-scribbled over the lined paper he'd gotten his hands on shortly after waking.
That was the problem, really. He'd woken and called absently for Lisa, reaching out for his Punch doll. No reponse; no puppet. In a kind of terror he'd found himself curled up in an unknown library, soon tearing frantically through the books and rooms looking for some sign, anything he could latch onto and hold tightly.
In this way he'd found the crayons and the little beeping toy which had told him Merry would come to get him. Both had a profoundly calming effect on Gilford's young mind. Merryweather had only recently come into his life, but she'd gained importance at an astonishing speed. Had he been older, he would have most likely designated it idol worship. As it was, he only knew that the world hurt a little less when she was around and happy.
Frowning in concentration, he pressed the purple crayon down more firmly against the paper, rounding off the curve in silence.
What: fluff? Finding Gilford, possibly teaching him about the comm device
When: Upon Gilford's arrival
Where: Library
Rating: G [subject to change; but these are cute little kids, I swear~ :D]
The area around the young person was, as always, a mess of papers and crushed crayons. Gilford couldn't begin to count the number of pictures he'd started, their dark and forboding images half-scribbled over the lined paper he'd gotten his hands on shortly after waking.
That was the problem, really. He'd woken and called absently for Lisa, reaching out for his Punch doll. No reponse; no puppet. In a kind of terror he'd found himself curled up in an unknown library, soon tearing frantically through the books and rooms looking for some sign, anything he could latch onto and hold tightly.
In this way he'd found the crayons and the little beeping toy which had told him Merry would come to get him. Both had a profoundly calming effect on Gilford's young mind. Merryweather had only recently come into his life, but she'd gained importance at an astonishing speed. Had he been older, he would have most likely designated it idol worship. As it was, he only knew that the world hurt a little less when she was around and happy.
Frowning in concentration, he pressed the purple crayon down more firmly against the paper, rounding off the curve in silence.