Rowan on the Wing (rowanonthwing) wrote in downfallrpg, @ 2010-03-24 17:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2015-08-30, rowan, rowan and verity, verity |
More Showing Off
Who: Verity and Rowan, and Jasper of course
Where:
When: Late morning
Verity was hard at work. Well, he had been hard at work. His eyes had begun to go a little screwy from all the intent staring at tiny wires he was doing. But his eyes were used to it, and he was actually comfortable for the first time since it all began. With Jasper on hand to assist, he couldn't quite forget he was missing his second little apprentice, and working in natural light and on an ugly table rather than his nicely contained workbench made it all a little awkward, but he was in his element. This was where the world made sense, and the power he'd finally admitted he had was beginning to feel perfectly natural. The machine parts before him formed into perfect pictures in his mind, the bits yet to be affixed only a little harder to see. Jasper had been playing with Juny, or as close as the boy got to playing, and the doors were standing wide open. Verity barely noticed, though the movement of air that allowed was welcome. The August air was bad enough without being on the top floor where every atom of hot air seemed to collect.
Thankfully, it wasn't as hot today as it could of been. Less thankfully, that was because it'd been raining on an off all morning. Rowan had been waiting for a period of non-raininess-- he hated getting rained on, and thankfully hadn't been up early enough for the first little mini-storm-- that seemed to have finally come. He pushed up from the couch in his and Liah's side of the currently double-suite, where he'd been altering-- painstakingly slowly-- more shirts with buttons and zippers and things, for working around the wings, and moved over to the door between the two suites. "Hey. Ver'."
"Hi," Verity said around a screwdriver currently held in his teeth. It was a bad habit, he knew, but he only had the two hands, plus Jasper's, and it would be silly not to use whatever was at his disposal. He set the tool down and looked over, his eyes swimming a bit as they focused on a distant object for the first time all day. "Whoa, headrush there. How's it going?" He supposed he could use a quick break to chat, even if this chore was his favorite of all possible pastimes. Jasper looked up and smiled as well, a couple of stolen paperclips wound into bizarre shapes in his hands.
Juniper, laying on her stomach on the floor next to Jasper so she could watch him make things, looked up too and waved at her brother, with one of the extra hands, since two of them were propping her chin up still.
Rowan grinned at the lot of them. "Hey, kiddos. Goin' all right. Finally looked outside and it's not raining." Not that it'd been raining all morning, but he'd kept looking out and seeing it. "Can you leave that for a minute?" He nodded to the stuff Verity was tinkering with-- stuff Rowan really had no idea what it was, much less how it'd be useful, at this point. For all he knew, Verity was just trying to keep his hands busy and it wouldn't do anything.
Verity had plans, as it happened. Ambitious, complicated, wonderful plans, most of which probably wouldn't pan out. The main things he wanted to get done were some powerful lights and alarm systems for the first floor that would run on batteries reliably, and from there, he could branch out to some cooking stuff. He was also getting up a list of the next things they should pick up on a raid, some more shake-to-charge flashlights and a lot of walkie talkies being at the top. "Sure, I... Well, I haven't especially reached a stopping point or anything, but heck, there aren't really any. Something going on?" He set his projects down gently and looked up at Rowan expectantly.
Jasper stared at his paper clip sculpture, nudging the ends in so they wouldn't be sharp. He glared at one stubborn, jutting piece and it twisted around the central bit of wire neatly of its own accord. Figuring they were done, he handed the roughly person-shaped object to Juniper.
"Just wanna show you somethin'," Rowan said, grin widening a bit. "C'mon." He jerked his head towards the door. "It'll be quick, promise."
"Iiiii know what it iiiiiis," Juniper said, though was shortly distracted by Jasper. She took the little paper-clip statuette and beamed at him, then pushed herself up to her knees so she could throw a couple of her arms around him.
"I'm not exactly on a deadline. Geeze, I don't even know half of what I'm doing. I guess I'll have to tell what's his face, the Terry guy who helped get us here, y'know, the one who's in charge now even though I figured he was already? Anyway, I'll let him know what I'm up to when I get to it, but I don't exactly have to turn this stuff in for a grade." Which was a pity. He'd probably have gotten a decent one. "I mean, I'm not that great at electrical stuff, but I have the world's geekiest superpower, so that helps." He smiled at Jasper and Juny. He didn't say a thing, of course, but at least he never outright ignored the younger kid.
Eying the contraption Verity was working on briefly, Rowan beckoned for him-- and Jasper, and Juniper if they wanted to come-- to follow him out. He, though, locked the doors behind them. If nobody was gonna be in there, damned if he wasn't gonna make sure nobody would get in there, besides themselves. "So what're you even working on?"
"Stuff that I think we'll need, I guess. With the power being gone. Trying to rig an alarm system for the first floor. In case of monsters or bad guys, you know? And bright lights, just so we're not restricted to flashlight tag if there's an emergency after dark. Just stuff, pretty much. Jasper followed along quietly in Verity's wake, his shadow as usual.
"You know," Rowan mused as Juniper took his hand and he lead the way to the stairs up to the roof. Thinking about light reminded him of something he'd forgotten, from back when he actually went to school. "Back in, like, seventh grade or something, we did an experiment with saltwater and lightbulbs. And it totally made the lightbulb turn on. I wonder if anybody here knows how to do that." He sure didn't remember. He never even understood how it worked, just thought it was kind of cool that it did.
"Huh, I think I remember that one. Not from school. I was homeschooled. But, you know, I had a book of kitchen experiments." He was amazed he'd ever learned anything, really. His mother hadn't really been qualified to teach, and if her son hadn't been a voracious little reader eager to pass on his expertise to the littler ones, none of the Meany boys would have done very well. "So... roof. Cool. Probably be slippery," he advised the kids. Unsurprisingly, Jasper ignored him. "I haven't actually been up yet. Huh."
"If anyone can figure it out, we could totally have light, like, in the stairwell. Not very bright light, but anything'd help in there, and that wouldn't waste batteries." Rowan made a face, holding open the roof door for everybody-- there was no Liah to walk right through it, this time, little bitch-- and spread his wings once everyone was up. "You might not've been up here, but I've been spending a lot of time up here. It's like, my personal playground, almost."
"Seems like it would be." He felt kind of bad for not checking on Rowan's progress lately. He'd been kind of wound up after that disastrous outing. At least he'd done wing-spotter duty for the first couple days? He'd been pretty okay at that, judging from how intact Rowan continued to be. "I'd be kind of nervous all the way up here. Kind of a long way to fall. But I bet you've gotten better with those." Rowan's wings were still incredibly badass, and Verity completely prepared to admire.
"Eh, the roof's so big, I almost never got to the edges." Not when it mattered, anyhow. And it didn't anymore, he thought he had enough of a handle on things that he could go wherever he wanted. "You guys hang back here." Rowan waved in the direction of the door, and started moving out a bit. This wasn't quite as awesome as showing off for Liah, since Liah was totally his best friend and a general babe besides, but it was still pretty awesome. He gave Verity a jaunty grin and asked, "Ready?"
"Well, I guess that's good." It was huge, and Verity was glad it was still cloudy, if not actively poring rain. The sun would be pretty overpowering up here for his pale eyes otherwise. So he'd be equipped to admire all of Rowan's showing off, which he didn't mind. He could be a good audience. He almost leaned against the door, pictures himself toppling backward if someone opened it, and quickly moved a few inches to the left. "Okay, hanging out. Ready to be impressed. Sir, yes, sir." Just a little whisper of sarcasm.
"You'd better be," Rowan said cockily back at him, amused by the sarcasm rather than annoyed, his wings flaring out in the damp but thankfully rain-free air. He didn't try launching himself straight up this time, knowing he'd wind up picking up water in his feathers from the rooftop if he tried and then have even more trouble flying. Instead, for this show, he took a running start-- he was barefoot again, having anticipated this all morning-- and flapped rapidly. It only took him ten paces before he was up off the ground and pumping his wings, sending him forward.
Which was worlds better than the last time Verity saw him, when all he could do was hover and crash.
Forward and upward motion! Great improvement. Verity clapped, this time without a trace of sarcasm. Rowan was just kind of awesome, wasn't he? Verity had never before known anyone who'd have been perfectly well suited to being a comic book antihero, probably put out by Darkhorse. Well, at least the position of nerdy sidekick seemed to be open. "Awesome!" he called, not sure if it'd reach Rowan's ears. He poked Jasper, but, unsurprisingly, the younger boy didn't really react to him. He was watching Rowan, though, his expression unreadable.
Juniper was clapping, too, and she gave a gleeful little shriek as Rowan pulled up sharply into a climb. Direction change, check! He surged upwards, straight upwards, then pulled aside and around into a broad figure eight. This time it wasn't quite as shaky as last time's had been, for Liah, but rather a smooth curve. As he straightened out, swooping by Verity and the kids, he twisted sideways a little-- turning at the same time, since he didn't have that much fine motor control yet-- and gave them all a confident thumbs-up and a grin.
Then he had to veer sharply to avoid running into an air conditioning unit, but hey, at least he didn't crash or plow down! He just swooped upwards again.
Verity sucked in his breath quickly at that, but Rowan dodged, so all was well. He really had been working. Considering it was only a week ago that he'd been landing in heaps on the grass, this was especially impressive. Verity supposed that with the wings his brain must have rewired itself at least a little. It took baby birds longer to learn to fly. Or maybe it didn't. Biology wasn't his strong suit. He'd have given Rowan a thumbs-up back, but frankly, he didn't want the guy twisting around again. Anyone's guess what he'd almost smash into next time.
That seemed like enough showing off to Rowan, at least for now. Better stop while he was ahead, and all that. He got himself enough distance to be able to get over the hurdles in his way, then circled back around and backwinged to a landing on the rooftop not far from Verity and the kids. His landing made a little splash in one of the scattered puddles on the roof, but he managed to keep himself upright and keep his wings from getting wet. Even better, he thought he looked halfway graceful doing it.
He was grinning from ear to ear when he had his bearings, too, and he managed to keep from being knocked over as Juniper tackled his legs, laughing. "Isn't that awesome?" he demanded of Verity excitedly. "I'm getting so much better, now that I've picked up how to actually, you know, change direction and shit!"
Juniper didn't even pinch him for that one.
"Awesome," Verity agreed wholeheartedly. "You've really got moving down. Good landing, too." Rowan had sort of had issues with landings... but then, he'd had issues with getting off the ground at all, too. He'd managed at the moment not to look like a drowned pigeon, not to wind up on his nose, and generally pleased. The landing in the puddle had even been cool, from a visual standpoint. In the comic that Verity envisioned being Rowan's life, that'd have been a small, interesting panel. Even Jasper looked up and lifted his hand into a rather languid thumbs-up.
"I got a thumbs up from Silent Bob," Rowan laughed, giving one, right back, to Jasper. His was more enthusiastic, though. "That's high praise, right there. Thanks, man." He flipped his wings shut again, looking up at the sky. "Though now that I've showed off, maybe we should get inside. I don't wanna look like a drowned pigeon or something. Once it clears up a little, I'm thinkin' I might go for an actual flight. See what I can find, if any of it's useful."
"Good plan. Keep it short, though. You can't have gotten that far in your training regimen. I mean, muscle doesn't work that way." Verity ruffled Jasper's hair absently. Around Rowan, Juny, and Liah, he was generally at his most responsive. "And yeah, definitely a day with high visibility." He glanced at Jasper, decided he ought to know too, and went on. "The crazy enclave that chased us out of the grocery store? They have guns, too, and they've already killed at least one random teenager. So, y'know, be careful."
While Rowan liked to think he knew his limits, flight-wise, he nodded more somberly to Verity's warning, hugging Juniper's shoulders to his legs protectively. "I've got one, too. But I'll be careful. I'm hopin' nobody thinks to look up, y'know? And I'll be going in the other direction than you guys went, thanks." His feathers fluffed a bit, and he nudged Juniper towards the door and stairs back down. "Maybe I can get you some salt and wire and sh-- stuff, and you can make saltwater lights, to go with your fancy alarm system," he added to Verity with a teasing grin.
"Smart." Verity nodded. "Well, heck, maybe I can add blinky lights. And an incredibly obnoxious airhorn. And then I bet it'll go off for no reason, because much as I love it, technology is magic's lamer little brother. And then everyone will want to punch me in the face. But that's not really new, and the alarm will be an excellent thing if it actually works. Especially since I think there are people living on the ground floor, and definitely on... The first floor that's actually the second. So whether it's distopian warlords out for blood or monsters, at least they'll have time to run upstairs."
"I won't want to punch you in the face," Rowan promised, leading them all to the door and holding it, again, for them. He could be a nice guy every now and then. Usually when he wasn't thinking about it. "Maybe the gut, or something, but not the face." He grinned jokingly. "Besides, twelfth floor? I won't even hear it. So there's people living on the bottom floor? Where there's, like... no rooms?" That had weirded Rowan out a bit, not having rooms on the first floor-- and the whole "first floor" being the "second floor"-- but he stuck to his twelfth floor-- which was actually the thirteenth, really-- and tried to roll with it. And not mention floor numbers, lest he get confused.
"I think so? I was down there and someone was moving a bed around. Like, those crappy cots you can get if you have one more person than spaces in the beds? I got to sleep in those whenever we went on trips, since I was the oldest, and I'm a nice brother." He patted Jasper's shoulder. "And Jas and September would share..." He realized that he hadn't mentioned their baby brother to Rowan. He hadn't been able to do it before. Probably good as it had just slipped out, or he'd never have mentioned the youngest Meany and Rowan probably would have been pissed later. Though Jasper inhaled sharply and seemed to be moving even more stiffly. "Anyway, yeah." Verity had been about to blather about how family vacations in their household had consisted of following Dad to conferences and sightseeing for a weekend while he talked to other psychiatrists about important shrink things. But he didn't really have it in him, all of a sudden.
Glancing at Verity curiously, Rowan didn't need to ask who September was. He knew the trailing off and awkward avoidance well. He got the same way whenever he or Juniper mistakenly mentioned another member of their family. So he kept his mouth shut on the question that wanted to come out, and gave Juniper's hand a squeeze to tell her not to ask, too.
Not that Juniper was going to. She'd figured out a long time ago that Jasper had used to have another brother or sister or something named September. And she didn't want to talk about families past, so she never really asked, either.
Instead, Rowan ignored the slip and snorted. "I'm glad we're up here, not down there. Cots! Ugh. I couldn't sleep in a cot. With these things?" He twitched his wings behind him.
Verity was glad for the silence. He wasn't surprised. Rowan was missing three siblings, was it? Verity hoped for his sake they'd just died. It was a lot easier than watching someone loved become a mindless, twisted killing machine. He moved on as quickly as he could, agreeing with a sharp nod. "Yeah, they suck. Poke into your back and smell like plastic. ...That if you're lucky. Plus with your wings I bet the stupid thing would fall right over. You're kind of top-heavy, that way, and cots wobble. Our rooms are actually pretty comfy."
Four siblings, actually. Rowan was trying very hard not to think about them, at all, but sometimes it was hard. "Our rooms are the bomb," he said firmly. "We really lucked out, getting them-- and the two connected ones, too, that's even better." He was just glad they still had the gas line working, so their tiny burners in the kitchenettes still worked.
"Except for the stairs!" Juniper protested. "Those aren't lucky!"
"The stairs are making you big and strong!" Rowan countered, ruffling her hair before fishing his key out of his pocket to unlock the doors again. "And brave, too, cuz you can face the dark."
They couldn't afford to spend their time curled up in a fetal position and sobbing, which Verity was very tempted to do every do often. The only way to get around it was to cling fiercely to denial, though he was willing to bet that was unhealthy and disrespectful to the dead or lost, both. So he kept kidding. "Yeah, says the guy with wings. I'd poke him a bunch of times for that if I were you." Verity smiled a little. It was a thin smile, but it was there. "I guess we can all use the workout. It's not so bad. Kinda reminds me of bolting from class to class. Except more stairs, ultimately. A lot more."
"Hey, I only started actually flying yesterday!" Rowan protested. "I've been using those stairs as much as you guys have." Well, maybe not quite as much, since he kept skipping lunches to try and practice, but still. Speaking of, though-- "You guys ready for lunch yet, or not?" They were up, they were moving, maybe they could head downstairs before they got settled again and grab something to bring up with them.
"Oh, yeah, lunch is probably a good idea." Verity nodded. "Heck, maybe we can find something other than peanut butter today." Not that there was anything at all wrong with peanut butter. Good for body and soul. Just a little tedious after too many days. "One gets a little tired of efficiency and pragmatism." Common sense? Who needed it? He looked over to Jasper, got no response, moved on. This was becoming routine, regrettably enough.
"Let's tackle those stairs, then," Rowan said, tucking the key back away in his pocket. "See what we can scrounge up that isn't peanut butter."
"Grilled cheese?" Juniper asked hopefully.
"If the cheese is still good, sure," Rowan told her with a smile, taking her hand and continuing down the hall to the second stairwell down, the door propped open by a futon from the spare room up here. Maybe they needed some of that cheap-ass Velveta cheese product. That would probably never go bad! "That's what you should work on, Ver'," he said back over his shoulder at Verity. "A working fridge."
"Hey, cheese actually keeps pretty well. If you go on a picnic, cheese is always a good choice. It'll sweat a little, but be just fine." Not that picnicking seemed like it'd be a viable option any time soon, of course. Well, they could go have picnics on the roof, get some sun and fresh air. Though if that were a plan, Verity'd try and find sunscreen, at least for him and Jasper. Rowan and Juny probably didn't burn too much. "But hey, yeah, fridge. Those things just eat power, though. I'm not sure how I'd start..."
"You know," Rowan mused as they stepped into the dim stairwell. "Wonder if that little power of yours, if that's what it is, could actually make machines go. Like... if you could turn on a fridge. If just for a few minutes, or something." Wouldn't that be useful? Even if it was just for their little minifridges up in the suite. Rowan thought of himself and his family-- new and old-- before anyone else, and all he really cared about was whether they had enough to eat, that wouldn't make them sick.
"Well, I think I can fix little things. And push on switches with my brain, and stuff like that." Heh. He'd have to work that one into conversation. I can kill you with my brain. Provided I have a gun or automobile handy. Though it'd be harder for him to get away with that than River Tam. "But I can't break physics that I can tell. I might be able to start a machine and keep it moving for a little bit? Maybe?" He had a feeling that would make him really, really tired, but it might be worth a try. "Like, by keeping the engine moving. But a fridge wouldn't do any good for just a minute anyway, and those things are energy sinks."
"Damn." That was too bad. It would've been really helpful, but Rowan figured he ought to be used to not having anything helpful anymore. "Oh, well, it was a thought... we need somebody with an ice-making ability, or something." Or an electricity-generating ability. That'd be even awesomer.
Until then, he guessed he'd just use up batteries, eat warm cheese, and keep a firm hold of the handrail on the dark stairs. How long could they live like that, with no power? Did anyone have any idea how to do all that stuff people did before electricity, anymore? Rowan sure didn't.
"What we did get are a lot of those flashlights you charge by shaking, and some replacement lightbulbs for them. I saved three for us." He'd justified that with the fact that they had the kids with them. "So at least we're good on light. And the gas won't last, but I am rigging up battery packs for hotplates after I do the alarms and floodlights. So we'll be able to make drinking water safe and cook, like, canned soup and stuff." Verity had considerable experience surviving like a barbarian college student, even though he'd lived at home. "Pity microwaves are also energy hogs."
Life without a microwave. Rowan barely knew how to cook without a microwave. Somehow, that one reminder of how much life had changed brought Rowan's mood crashing down. "This is just gonna suck," he said dismally, all but feeling his way down those stupid, lightless stairs. "What will we do the we run out of batteries?" Because that day was going to come, he was sure. And Verity had pretty much ignored the only real idea he had, those salt batteries, so it was probably useless, too. Besides, then they'd just run out of light bulbs.
"Well, Joyce and I got some when we went scrounging. Every place has batteries. It's a marketing thing. You know how stores have the most random stuff at the end of aisles? Like paper towels in a home improvement store or As Seen on TV products in the middle of a sports store or whatever? It's so people will go 'oh, I need that stuff' whatever else they're there for, and there are always batteries." Verity did like the idea of the saltwater batteries, or other chemical fuels, but he wasn't sure how easy it'd be to implement any of that, especially without any books around with instructions. He didn't know any proportions by heart. "Plus we should be getting those long-life bulbs."
Rowan was thinking more like, in ten years. Batteries would be pretty scarce by then.... "We'd better start going out and getting a shit-ton of-- ow, Juny!" She'd thwacked the back of his folded wings with her tail, making him jump and nearly lose his footing. "Watch what you're doing, dammit, I might've fallen, and then where would you be?"
She made a little hiccoughing noise, and he regretted what he'd said immediately, pausing on the dark stairs to pick her up. She clung to him, and he hurried to get out of Verity's way, murmuring, "Hey. Hey, I'm sorry. Big bro's just in a bad mood, that's all."
Verity moved around and pulled Jasper with him, letting them work it out. Six year old tears were easy to start, but usually didn't last too long. Juniper was a resilient little one. "Hmm, Juny, you might want to stop beating up your brother every time he swears. I guess quarters in a swear jar won't do much good anymore. But hey, you could make up some tokens, and every time he cusses, you make him owe you a favor."
Though Rowan couldn't actually understand what Juniper said in response to that, as it was muffled into his shoulder and muddied up by tears, at least she didn't descend into full-throated tantruming. With four arms and that tail, she was definitely a royal terror in a tantrum. "It's not like the hitting me is even working," he agreed with Verity, a little more lightly, trying to tease her into a smile. "We could come up with something. Why don't we talk about it after lunch?"
"Okay," she finally answered in a small voice.
Well, he was glad his attempt hadn't fallen entirely flat. He was never sure if he was good with kids or not. His brothers had seemed to like him, but the Meany boys were all a little strange. "Yup, lunch time!" He smiled, though he supposed she couldn't see him. "And I'm all for cutting the sandwiches into dinosaur shapes. I don't know if you're a fan, Juny. Jasper and I get into contests. He does a great tricerasammich." Sure, you could get cutouts for that, but freeform was a lot more fun.
Juniper peeked through her hair and under one of her own arms at Verity and Jasper. "Tricera... sammich?" she repeated, sniffling a little. Her tail uncurled from around Rowan's waist, and reached out in Jasper's direction, trying to wrap around his wrist.
"Yeah, like a triceratops," Rowan explained. "Three horned grass-eaters and stuff." Juniper hadn't hit her dinosaur-loving phase yet, the way Rowan and her sister Maple had. At this point, she might never. Dinosaurs were a little unlikely to quite catch the fancy when you could see monsters outside that sometimes looked a bit like them.
Verity had been running with the assumption that dinosaur adoration was less a stage and more simply the nature of childhood. And, in his case, up through his teens and still at present. "Or whatever other dinosaurs you like. Brontosaurus can get a little funny because the neck and tail are thin and the sandwich usually falls apart a little. And then you get to pretend to be a T-rex. Well, I guess you can do that any time." He realized she wasn't paying him any mind at all and quieted. Jasper blinked a bit but didn't object to being caught, moving slightly closer so he could walk comfortably while leashed to the little girl's whims.
Juniper was apparently at least listening, despite her tail's affection for Jasper, because she said, "Should make one of the flying ones."
Though Rowan could remember their names, he could at least remember what they looked like, and he nodded against her hair. "We can totally make one of the flying ones. Or, Verity can." Rowan was pretty sure if he tried, it would look nothing like a flying dinosaur.
"Pterodactyls? Yeah, you can make two of those from one sandwich. They're pretty easy. I bet you could even make one yourself." Maybe he shouldn't make that offer, but he was pretty sure he could trust a six-year-old with Juny's steady sense with a butter knife. "Fancy ones, with big crests on their heads. Bet they're the only other thing that ever flew with wings as big as your brother's, too." Verity had wiled away many a quiet hour with CG-Dinosaur documentaries.
"Nobody's got wings like by brother," Juniper said, with that kind of firm confidence that only a kid her age could really display, showing only a little remaining of her cry, in the thickness of her voice. She did rebound quick, usually, yes.
Rowan chuckled and hugged her close. "You just keep on thinkin' that, kiddo, and we'll be fine." He, though, wasn't letting a five year old near a butter knife-- not after watching her poke herself with pencils as her four arms tried to cooperate, and failed.
"Well, yeah, his are much more aerodynamically efficient, probably. The feathers give him lift, so they're really very good at being wings. Pterodactyls had to do all sorts of weird things to take off, since they just had big skin flaps hanging off their really big fingers. Did you know that one kind got to be about the size of an airplane, though?" Verity shut up as Jasper poked him hard between the shoulder blades. Yeah, he was babbling again. Though dinosaurs were cool!
"Well, somebody was really into dinosaurs," Rowan teased, grinning and amused by Jasper apparently keeping his brother in check, despite being otherwise silent. He could just barely make out that Jasper had poked Verity, and he thought that was completely awesome. Even better, though, they were almost at the bottom of the stairs. "Maybe you can talk Ver' into telling you more about dinosaurs after lunch," he suggested.
Apparently Juniper was more interested than not, or at least just wanted something different to talk about, because she said, "Okay."
"Well, I was home schooled and my mom hated to argue. So if it got to be time for science class and I just demanded books about dinosaurs, I pretty much got them. Also I watched Jurassic Park about ten bazillion times." It was really strange to think back to watching monster movies as complete fantasy. He wouldn't be that surprised to look out a window and see an Alien and a Predator duking it out on the sidewalk now. He'd never been that into grotesque horrors for their own sake, dragons and dinos aside, but he'd seen enough.
Rowan had seen Jurassic Park... once or twice, maybe. He knew what it was. Juniper, though, lifted her head finally to ask, "What's Jurassic Park?"
"It's a movie about a dinosaur theme park on an island," Rowan answered. "I think, anyway. Ver' could probably tell you more."
And there they were, out in the hall on the first floor, where there was more light. This door was propped open with what looked like a card table from the game room. It was so nice to be able to see again that Rowan paused there, wings half-open, to blink around in it and get used to, well, seeing.
"Eh, there isn't all that much more to tell. There are dinosaurs, and... People escape the in a helicopter." People being eaten by tyrannosaurs or poisoned by weird frilled things was no longer mildly amusing in a slightly sick way, and he wouldn't have mentioned that to a kindergartner either way. "And a brontosaurus sneezes at a girl at one point. That was kind of funny." Verity had a bit more blinking to do than Rowan, with his very light eyes. "Except I guess that's an apatosaurus now, even though brontosaurus is a much better name. Either way, they're big and cool, and the movie had excellent robots." He glanced over at Jasper, who had just half-covered his eyes and was easing himself into the brighter room. Smart kid.
"Whatever they call them." Rowan and Juniper were ready to head off to the kitchen, Rowan finally setting his little sister down-- his arms hurt now, dammit-- but Juniper kept Jasper's wrist with her tail, so Rowan obligingly waited. "I don't remember much about it. Except when the girl sticks her hand into dino droppings. I remember that part." He would, of course. He'd probably only been about ten when he'd seen it, and that was the kind of thing a ten year old boy would remember.
"So yeah, sandwiches." Rowan did most of the cooking, so Verity figured he'd try and be useful now, especially as he was offering pacification in the form of dinosaurs. After poking around a little, he decided to just settle for peanut butter. There weren't many other sandwich makings that didn't need refrigeration, and peanut butter was good for art projects. It'd hold the bread together better so it wouldn't get too mangled. "If you two want to grab some chairs and scooch over, I'll take orders, or you can try and make your dinosaur sandwiches yourself." He glanced over at Jasper with a slight smile, apologizing for the chair thing. Didn't want to make Juny feel like she was being dismissed, but Jasper was only a few inches shorter than Verity and would probably bump his head if he tried to climb a chair.
"Why don't we let you give it a try," Rowan suggested, giving only a brief glance Juniper's way. All those hands... giving her any kind of a knife was a bad idea, butter or not.
"No grilled cheese?" Juniper asked, sounding disappointed. "We had peanut butter yesterday." Trust the five year old to remember, of course.
"Well, that's up to Verity," Rowan told her. "He's the cook today."
"It won't be the world's tastiest grilled cheese. The butter's all melted, and oil's not as good. But heck, we can try." A slightly taller order, but at least the cheese was intact. "You need to stay a bit further back, then. The stove's gonna be hot and you've got twice the fingers to watch for. Plus oil spits when it gets hot, and then you get a bunch of pinpoint burns. Then you look like you just fought with a porcupine." Verity made good burgers, but usually not without a few casualties.
"I'll be good," Juniper promised, looking pleased that her "order" was being taken seriously, and she even went to the extreme of sitting on her hands. All four of them.
Rowan laughed, swinging a chair around himself to straddle, wings spread out behind him to brush the next-nearest counterspace. "I think she wants her grilled cheese no matter how it looks in the end. Just try not to burn yourself too bad, all right, Ver'?"
"I promise to keep at least three limbs intact. That doesn't look too comfy, Juniper." Verity sent her a quick smile. "Okay, let's improvise us some grilled cheese. We'll have to wait for them to cool a little for dinosaurs, unless we want to scorch our fingers, but I think that'll be okay." Fortunately, making grilled cheese was rather like making burgers, so he was decent at it. "Lunch will be served shortly."