in the face of danger

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table align=center class=ooc><tr><td>

// <span style='color:3D0707'>Timestamp</span> \\
<span style='color:690000'>Quarter:</span> Tria
<span style='color:690000'>Day:</span> 19th
<span style='color:690000'>Year:</span> 81378

// <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>Penumbra Mithrah</span> \\
Primary Trade ¤ Aerobatics (J)
Secondary Trade ¤ Astronomy (J)

// <span style='color:#A41547'>Tryphaena Nagaina</span> \\
Primary Trade ¤ Languages (J)
Secondary Trade ¤ Tracking (J)​

// private for Aaron (Sieben) and I. He's gonna murder off my characters,
which means, there's really no place for anyone else! So, no heroics, please,
let my characters die a lovely bloody death. lmao.</td></tr></table>
Two pendragons, male and female, walk silently side by side in the late evening glow of the setting sun. Though it was summer on wonderful Ramath, they still taught classes at the planet's most widely reknowned school - Janardan. Every morning they made the trip, every evening, they walked back. It was their ritual. And, their time to be alone together.

Not long ago, they had hatched a son, young Bael. The child was capable of fending for himself now, and was quite the snippy youngster, so they left him home alone during the day time. Bael had plenty of other pendragons to watch out for him when his parents weren't around, and he was quite pleased with his freedom.

He had his father's spunk and his mother's intelligence - a wonderful combination for entertaining yourself, or being the ring leader among your peers.

Often his mother's cousins would visit him, and watch after him. They were actually due to show up the next morning, which had Bael excited to no end - he loved playing with Temkaja and Nebai. Nebai would teach him to fight, and Temkaja would instruct him on poisons. Neither of which his parents were particularly pleased about, but even at such a tender age, Bael had a good head on his shoulders.

Not far from the caves now, Pen looks to his wife quite contentedly. Tryphaena was a marvelous femme - her colors of pink and white which adorned her frame gave nothing to the curiosity that bubbled beneath the surface. Her personality above all was what drew him to her, those many seasons ago.

Penumbra, himself, was far from being atrocious. The blue-laden male had large wings, soft as silk. Bael had been gifted these same glorious wings, just as he had aquired his mother's ivory ram horns.

Up the slope the couple walk, meandering now. They were happy to walk together, even though Pen could have flown there in half the time. While they never told anyone else, the two were involved in covert operations as spies for the anti-grader revolution that was building as each day passed. School was always over for their classes in the early afternoon, but they rarely returned home before the sun set.

Most just assumed they were enjoying being a couple somewhere private. But more often, the two were getting new assignments, reporting what they had found, or simply talking with their friends in the anti-grader group, where they could voice their opinions without fear of retribution.

They thought they were safe, and they thought no one had any clue of their double life, certainly not their son. So they never took enough care to watch behind them. To keep an eye on the shadows. To always be aware.

They never lived in fear of when their life would end - they naturally assumed they would die of old age.

Unfortunately for them, that would not be the case.

 

Up the hill to their 'cave in the sky', the couple talk softly to one another about their varied day at Janardan. Who was a pest, who was the smartest, who they wanted to help when they saw them next, and lesson plans for the next semester.

Approaching the door of their home, Tryphaena sits to allow Penumbra the honor of opening it. She locked it daily, and he loved to show off by opening it. On days when they knew Bael would be staying home all day, they would magically encrypt the lock on the door, so only they would know the Fronima-magic-based key, so to speak, to undo the spell.

As if playing with a sall tennis-sized ball, Pen forms the blue light source, shimmering like flame, but seemingly solid, in his hand. Tossing it up into the air with added flair, the giddy male winks at his wife. She grins; even though she had seen this display many times, she always enjoyed it - it meant she still mattered, that he still thought she was worth showing off for, as if they were teenagers again.

With an over-exaggerated wind-up, he pitches the small blue magic ball at the door handle, which breaks the magic spell. Now that they were home, no lock would be put back on.

Tryphaena opens the heavy wooden door, leading the way, just as the light downpour begins. The rain would soon get heavier, this much they could tell. Scuffling into their small home, the pair are soon attacked by their five year old son.

"Gotcha! HAHA!" Bael shouts as he leaps from behind a chair, tackling straight into his father's stomach.

Penumbra laughs, as he rolls onto his side, as if fatally harmed by a mighty warrior. His wings flare out, and he crumples one, pretending it to be broke. <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Oh my, Tryph, run for it, we've got a mad 'dragon in the house!"</span>

Tryph's eyes widen with feigned fear and she squeals as she runs from her husband and the 'warrior' son sitting atop him. Into the kitchen the pink 'dragon flees!

Penumbra starts chuckling, and pokes his son. With a giddy and mischievous gleam in his eyes he whispers, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Go get your mother!"</span>

Bael giggles and leaps from atop his father, tearing his way through the house toward his mother in the kitchen. Squeals and shouts from both parties ensue as Bael chases his fleeing mother around the kitchen table. Penumbra, laughing heartily at the sound of his playing family, shuts the door behind him, just as the hardest rain starts to fall.

 

Penumbra's ear flicks as he hears an abnormal rap against the door, not like the sound of the gently pelting rain against the solid wood. Curious, the winged male steps toward the door, and glances through the peep hole.

A femme 'dragon stood there, looking fairly out of place in such a storm. And certainly not from around here. Her anubis form was the most familiar part of her - the extra appendages and the third eye were certainly new sights to see. Four arms were rare - mutations in the form of extra arms rather than an upward set of wings.

But, still, his kind and light hearted spirit could not let such a stranger suffer in the rain. He would let her in. After, of course, he found out her purpose for being in Watani.

<span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Good evening, madam!"</span> he shouts through the closed door in a genuinely pleased voice, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"If you don't mind my intrusion into your business, but what brings you to my door?"</span>

 

Oh, the freezing rain bit did it quite nicely. His heart turned over, for if the situations were reversed, he would hope she had a heart as much as he did.

Whether or not she did, however, wasn't particularly on his mind, however.

Before he would reply, Tryphaena wanders out, and looks at him curiously, <span style='color:#A41547'>"What're you still doing out here, love? Come inside, I've got dinner ready!"</span>

He turns around to look at his wife, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Well, there's someone at the door, they wanted to come in out of the rain, and I was about to let them in."</span> Tryph shakes her head and smirks, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Well then, what're you waiting for? I've got enough dinner here for one more, so go on and let them in, Pen."</span>

She turns around and finds her way back to the kitchen, where she set about bringing the platters of food, several choice meats and vegetables, out onto the dinner table - just at the far end of the room, in plain view of the front door.

Bael, meanwhile, was busy digging about in his room. He had forgotten his stuffed pendragon toy, who simply always had to sit at the dinner table with him, which left his parents very much alone with each other.

Pen grins at the wonderful smells coming from the food Tryph had cooked, and returns to the door, pulling it open with a click from the knob. He smiles at the femme before him, and waves the gold she had offered, away, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Don't worry about paying us, please, come in and make yourself at home. You're welcome to have dinner with us if you choose."</span>

Pen steps aside, holding the door open for her, as the rain continues to fall.

 

Pen returns her smile with a jovial and welcoming grin, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Why, of course!"</span> he motions with a paw, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Down that hallway, first door on your right."</span> The second door on the right lead to Bael's room, where he was still huffing and puffing, over the lack of his favorite toy. First door on the left was the second entrance to the kitchen, and second door on the left housed Pen and Tryph's room.

Pen noticed nothing malicious about her. He was trained to look for such things, but perhaps he simply wasn't expecting an attack on his own home. He thought they were unknowns, he and Tryph. Apparently not.

Meanwhile, young Bael begins to get frustrated, and flings his coverlet, sheets, and stuffed toys about his room, searching for his ratty pendragon toy, Shade. The black stuffed pendragon was nowhere to be seen - at least to the untrained eye of a stubborn five year old.

 

Bael looks up at the female pendragon, but what really interested him was the fact she was holding Shade. As she sets Shade down, Bael just looks, this time his eyes trained on her, rather than his toy. It was more or less awe at her uniqueness, and also the fact that she had found his toy when he couldn't. She was quite nice, in his opinion.

As she leaves, his 'trance' is broken. Bounding over to his toy, Bael scoops up the black pendragon stuffed animal, and peers around the door to where the femme had gone into the bathroom, "Thanks!" he calls after her, not too loud, though not softly, either.

Meanwhile, his parents were busy setting an extra space at the table, and getting a special place ready for Bael's toy - they knew that Shade would have to sit beside his owner, and Bael would simply have to feed him some of what they were eating. Imaginary portions, of course.

Outside the rain picked up in intensity, and now in addition to a gentle pattering, the sound of distant rolling thunder and a flash of far off lightning joins in the storm's music. Soon the rain would grow thicker, and the thunder louder, as the full force of the storm travelled overhead.

 

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>... ^_^;

I'm not sure why this thread was closed and moved so quickly... usually it's a month before a thread is moved. (But then, I am out of the times. lol)

I'm sorry Aaron for slipping, RL took over, and I've had little creativity. Hopefully you're still interested in murdering off my chars. lmao. =)</td></tr></table>

Tryphaena would blush from the compliment, if no for her fur which was already a gentle shade of rouge, but her shy smile said it all. She nods to the stranger sharing their table, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Thank you very much, you're too kind!"</span>

Penumbra grins at both his wife and their visitor in turn. He stops suddenly, and tilts his head, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"I don't believe I've introduced myself! I'm very sorry.. that was rude of me."</span>

He places a paw upon his own chest, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"I'm Penumbra Mithrah,"</span> his hand then reaches across the table to cover his wife's own pink-tinged colored hand, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"My wife, Tryphaena Nagaina,"</span> then he looks to the other end of the table where his son sat, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"and this is-"</span>

"I'm Bael!" the child erupts gleefully, grinning up at their visitor from his place in his seat. His head just barely reached above the table top. He snatches his toy from his side, "And this is Shade." He waves the ratty pendragon doll's arm as if the toy itself were waving a greeting to the stranger.

 

<span style='width:100%;font-weight:bold; font-size:10px'>Out of Character</span>
<table class=ooc><tr><td>gaaarrrrrr. -_-; Just bludgeon me with something heavy, pretty please?</td></tr></table>

Penumbra nods, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Yes, I do believe I've seen that, too. We, while not incredibly of the religious type, do offer silent prayers to our favorite gods. You are most welcome to do what you feel is right, Miss Kyofu."</span> The blue male smiles warmly.

Tryphaena grins, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Yes, personally I have always preferred to offer my prayers to the god Fesjym, while Pen prefers to honor demi-god Renn-nukhs."</span> she looks to her son, <span style='color:#A41547'>"We don't really know who Bael prays to, though we think he's been learning about his gods and goddesses from friends, haven't you?"</span> she raises an eyebrow at the boy.

Bael grins with that cheesy yet brashly impudent toothy grin all strong-willed children have in their arsenal, "Yup, mama! Girson, ya know, he tolds me all 'bout Jacaet: didja know she likes pranks?" Bael, hugging his stuffed toy tightly to his chest, grins up at Kyofu, and winks heartily, "I likes pranks, too, ya know."

Tryphaena purses her lips at her outspoken child, but says nothing. Pen, on the other paw, grins as broadly as his son - the playful adult loved pranks, too. But he wouldn't let his wife see the smile that currently found place upon his maw. No, as soon as the pink colored femme turns her head for disiplining assistance from her husband, the grin is replaced by a solemn expression. Though, the delight still shone through his eyes, and gave away his true feelings.

 

Pen smiles warmly, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Ach, darling don't worry."</span> He returns her touch by momentarily covering the back of her own paw with his, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Not all pendragons believe in the gods."</span>

Tryphaena smiles, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Indeed. Some people prefer science to anything magical, and could use their breath all day to explain how we do the things we do. Neither way of belief is wrong, so I do hope you don't feel uncomfortable here."</span>

The child, meanwhile, oblivious to the conversation among the adults, picks and pokes at his food, every so often offering a little nibble to Shade. Shade's freshly washed, though tattered muzzle, even gets a taste of the fresh meat that Tryphaena had cooked, which warrents an unapproving stare from his mother. She knew what it would take to get the tangy, sticky sauce she had basted the meat in out of the toy's fabric.

Bael just grins impishly and pops the piece of food in his mouth, chewing contently.

 

Bael suddenly begins sinking in his chair. But that impish grin had returned. The rice-like food that Tryphaena had cooked had been steamed, so it was still rather firm, though not crunchy. Bael had taken one kernel of the edible item and was holding the minute food between two fingers as one would a dart.

Suddenly the small white object flies across the table to land in Pen's plate. Pen flinches, startled by the appearance of a flying bit of food, then looks up sharply at his son, who had sunk so far down in his seat that only his eyes and ears were above the table top.

Bael snickers in his high-pitched child voice, and Pen tries to hold back a laugh. Tryphaena sighs and covered her eyes with a hand. Shaking her head she looks across the table to Kyofu, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Boys."</span>

Pen grins at his wife, snaps up another piece of the small rice-like food and darts it back at his son, beaning the child between the eyes. Bael erupts into a squeal of giggles and reaches a chubby hand out to grab at his plate. Before his mother can stop him, the boys has tossed a child-sized-handful at his father. Pen erupts into loud laughter as the few kernels roubound off the table and plate before him.

Tryphaena makes a face, <span style='color:#A41547'>"Bael! No throwing food!"</span> She looks at her husband, <span style='color:#A41547'>"And you..."</span>

Pen stopped laughing, but remains smiling. He looks at his son, <span style='color:#A6C0CE'>"Go on and wash your paws, Bael."</span>

Bael giggles and sticks out his tongue at his father, but slides off his chair and hits the ground with a thump. He jogs off to the bathroom, swinging the door shut with a sound, leaving the three adults to themselves.