castaside | Heart Game: dreamwalker variety

The shadow smiles and rests its hand over hers. He knows that. Giving her choices is the defining characteristic of his parenting.

[ He's going to get a headbutt at the first opportunity. ]

You're an amazing dad. [ Chirps affectionately, and eventually climbs back up to her feet. Time to check out that desk! ]

The monkeys chirp happily.

The desk is made of inky purple wood that seems to be a natural color rather than a stain. On the desk is a lamp, a vial of oil, two textbooks, and a swatch of purple silk.

[ Purple silk? ... Is that the Father's Day terrorism? ]

Let's see ...

[ She examines the lamp first. ]

The light snaps on, although it's moonlight and not incandescent light.

You are Macaque, and you're standing on a hill minutes after dusk, looking down on the ground below you which is sprinkled with flat stones that glow in the moonlight.

You turn to MK, who is sitting on a blanket beside a mostly-eaten picnic. He's still afraid to have you touch him, but it's okay. You don't need to.

You point to the stones. "We'll each take one and make it into something. It'll be something that's just ours."

MK brightens and it's like staring into the sunrise.

[ Awwwwwwwwww! ]

Awww …

[ Ladies and gentlemen, this bird is a sap and so is her dad. Korone fluffs her wings, smiling. ]

I'm happy for you guys. You're good for each other. [ She touches the bottle of oil next. ]

You are Macaque, and you have a job to do. You feel your fingertips dipping into a jar of pleasantly scented oil, then your hands rubbing together to warm it, and then there are feathers beneath your fingers. You're an expert in grooming, and you know just what to do in a way that feels good and straightens them.

The gentle voice of your daughter is sweet in your ears, which catch every inflection. You talk about everything and nothing, things large and small, with a fluid exchange between them. Easy and effortless.

You commit this moment to memory, so it'll be with you literally forever.

[ She thought she'd braced for it.

SHE THOUGHT.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. soft. SOFT. excuse her for a moment while her wings do their very best to imitate a dandelion puff. ]

[ Fumbles an attempt at words and just cheeps instead, softened as always to account for his hearing. ]

The soft sounds of the forest around her, the monkeys and cicadas and frogs etc, swell just a bit, as if the sounds themselves are giving her a hug.

[ cheep cheep chirp CHIRP ]

You're a menace and I love you.

[ deep breath! sets down the bottle to lightly pap herself on both cheeks! only once she's got the featherpuff situation under control does she reach for the textbooks, examining them one at a time. ]

The monkey chirp: guilty.

One textbook seems to be for studying both Japanese and English, weirdly enough. When she touches it, she'll get a feeling of Macaque wanting to be closer to his kids, to speak the languages of their homelands. A sense of determination to make a home for them that's as home-as-defined-by-them as possible.

The other textbook has to do with combustion engines. She'll get a few flashes of Macaque leaning against something, watching Red Son tinker, asking questions that he hopes are intelligent and appreciating this particular method of bonding. Red Son seems super satisfied with himself.

[ oh wow you'll never guess what time it is ]

[ it's tear up o'clock! already! she hugs the language textbook tight, then bonks her forehead against it. ]

The textbook warms up a few degrees, comfortable warmth. Around her the monkeys chatter happily. Below her, the shadow gives an imitation of a hug with its arms.

[ can she use her shadow magic to give the shadow a shadow hug, because she's gonna try.

either way. once she's gotten some of the dokis out and is no longer in danger of actually crying, she picks up that second textbook — and makes a happy little sound somewhere between a giggle and a pigeon-y coo. ]

Super relatable and super cute.

[ she touches the silk next ]

Touching the silk gives you a series of feelings and images. Macaque's kids gifting him his room and his perfect nest. Red Son sitting in said nest in a bathrobe demanding a claiming bite.

Most prominent is laying in there snuggling with Wash, talking about... everything. Their histories, their present, parenting, heart games, the list goes on. Macaque has rarely enjoyed just talking so openly to someone, and it motivates him to want that with more people. He's so grateful that Wash is who he is and that they are what they are to each other.

Yeah Choco your dad is a smitten kitten.

[ this direct hit from a different angle catapults her straight back into tearyville. god. korone blinks hard and swallows, smiling so brightly her cheeks ache. ]

I'm, I'm glad too. For both of you. More than I know how to say.

The shadow at her feet tilts its head inquisitively and holds out a shadow-handkerchief for her to take, which will turn into a physical one if she accepts it.

The monkeys chirp: okay? and soothing at her.

[ she accepts the offered handkerchief with a chuckle that only wobbles a tiny bit. the tears haven't spilled yet, but goodness knows it's only a matter of time. ]

Thanks, Dad. I'm okay! Just ... it's like I've said: I'm glad, I'm ridiculously glad, you guys have each other. You're beyond good for him.

The shadow makes a heart with its hands, which is probably something he picked up from one of the birdtiles or another.

[ let's be honest ]

[ "one of the birdtiles" was 110% agent washington ]

[ HEART HANDS BACK, spends a quality 3 seconds fluff-fluff-fluffing her wings from sheer doki - ]

Okay, okay, what's next, Papaque?

[ going to see if there's anything inside the desk! ]

In the top drawer she'll find a package of pictures, some sticky notes, and a book on parenting.

In the bottom drawer is a copy of Journey to the West, a book on Dissociative Identity Disorder, a book on neurodivergence, and a Bible. All of them have little sticky tabs between the pages.

… [ None of this is a surprise, and yet ... Korone stares at the books.

At the shadow.

Books.

Shadow.

Books.

Shadow. ]

Lifetime sentence in cuddle-jail for cuteness crimes. [ Nods sagely, decisively, and picks up the package of pictures to start with. ]

The shadow's shoulders shake like it's laughing.

The pictures are a collection of both selfies and candid shots with/of his kids and his significant others. Looking at the pictures gives a very warm feeling, a solid foundation that he hopes to build on, something new and fascinating that he's never had before.

He takes a good deal of pictures when it seems like he's just poking through his phone, it seems. Cuteness crimes indeed.

[ It's warm feeling inception, Korone's compounding with his until she's making adorable li'l burbly chirrupy coos under her breath without realising. ]

Can't even grumble 'bout the stealth … [ For several reasons, including the fact that she does the same thing. ] Sharing these precious moments with you … seeing you smile, building this family together — it's the best.

[ After a few more minutes, Korone puts the photographs away exactly as she'd found them and checks out the sticky notes. ]

She finds a series of sticky notes in a neat pile:

"Don't be afraid, being open feels better."

"It's fine not to be good at this yet."

"Don't make the same old mistakes that cost you everything."

"I don't understand why this isn't working, but I'll keep trying."

It appears to be a series of little mantras that he repeats to himself.

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