[ Aeneas had slowly gotten used to the strange routine Khaos placed them under. Zurvan, Rome, Zurvan again, changes of humor, touches of bad luck; he had been through it all. It was no surprise that he returned to his life and struggled to leave that behind, to learn everything that had happened in his absence. Serena was there, as usual; still the same, still calm and sweet as he remembered. Things were back to normal.
Of course, the second he thought this, he could almost feel Karma settling onto his shoulder and laughing maniacally. It was inviting trouble. And trouble did find him. It always did.
He had barely entered the station, ready to get back to work when he was pushed aside by a colleague. The words were direct, simple. They spoke of his parents – and that was enough to make Aeneas’ frown deepen to a point few got to deal with – and of a girl. A little girl. Gods help him, another sister. Hadn’t they learned with the failure – in their opinion – of their eldest? It was a hell of a sign that he was there, being told that they had been deemed unfit to take care of her.
Aeneas didn’t speak anything more than necessary. He nodded when necessary, assured when required and followed, not even thinking about abandoning that kid to the foster system. It was like nothing really sank in; only the situation he was now in. Eventually, he found himself in a white room, poorly decorated with chairs with had seen better days and face to face with the two people which he had learned to dislike quite severely throughout his childhood. Aeneas had no idea what they had done to this unknown sister of his but his memories said it shouldn’t be good.
Calmly, the Trojan placed any and all will to act decently over his back and approached his father. No one moved. No one breathed. And no one stopped him when he raised his hand and punched the man to the ground with all the strength he could muster. The resounding crack which accompanied his movement didn’t speak of damage; it screamed of a fracture and Aeneas couldn’t really care.
His colleague seemed divided between helping – him – or stopping him. Neither was necessary. Because when the door opened and it was a little girl, five years old, maybe six, a face that had become familiar as his own in Zurvan, all thoughts about breaking the other side of his father’s jaw died. ]
[ filter; freyja ]
The girl. Our girl. They threw her here.
[ / ]
[ filter; elaine & visible to Aphrodite ]
There'll be a new addition to the house. Don't freak out.