GardenOfEden

The Anatomy Of A Fall || Moodboard

cw: blood, animal death, violence

thats still his baby boy even if hes wrinkly and old

Regular, adoptive Vanrouge family where Malleus (10) and Silver (6) are fighting. Malleus hits the boy on the head with a washcloth they would use to wipe the grime off of the dining table. Little Silver, who only started training for self-defense with their neighbor Sebek, picks up the object nearest to him and throws it at his older brother in retaliation.

An object which happens to be the TV remote controller. Which the older brother happens to dodge perfectly. Which also happens to lob itself squarely into the nearest obstacle with a crisp, resounding smash.

The television. The exact thing that their father, Lilia, spent a year of overtimes at the diner to be able to afford for their household on Christmas.

There is silence. And then another bout of silence while the panic slowly creeps in-- manifesting in the increasingly agitated sweeping of his tail as Malleus brews up possible escape routes for this conundrum.

He is a smart boy. Really talented. Top of his class, extremely gifted in the art of magic. He is in fact so advanced that magical institutions are already clambering to offer him scholarships to support the entirety of his education, hoping to snipe him into their organization before anyone else could.

He holds no fear in conjuring up the wildest of spells that nobody else would think of. He has even attempted-- and succeeded-- in mending broken bones and stitching torn limbs. He has a surprisingly firm grasp on anatomy.

... Of biological things. Not technology. His technological prowess only encompasses pressing the 'start' button of the microwave.

What should he do? Should he just press on and off, like their father does when his phone isn't working as it should? He does it, but he unplugs it entirely when the television gives off an alarming spark. Should he slap a duct tape on it, like Idia mentions is the "first solution of a bonafide engineer"? Wait, that's right! Idia! His friend Idia is a rich boy, and if he recalls correctly, their wealth is built on... technology! Surely they would know how to repair a TV.

... No. He suddenly remembers that he declared, only yesterday, that their friendship is over. Idia sat next to and happily chatted with Yuu during their practicals, after all, instead of saving the seat for him like he asked to.

'I was saving your seat for you!' Idia had whined, 'What was I going to do, stand around like an idiot beside Yuu while everyone else got to sit all cozy? They'd think I was a simp! You're the simp, not me!'

Idia was this close to making sense. But it was still a betrayal, so end of friendship it was.

Anyway, if his best friend-- EX best friend Idia is not a choice, then...

🐉: "Perhaps we should just buy another television."

⚔️, voice breaking as he tries to hold his sniffles: "We don't... We don't have monies."

🐉: "We don't, so..."

🐉, gulping a strained breath: "I managed to teleport last week. Apparently it's a rare skill that only four other known people in the world can use. If I can practice a bit to teleport along with an object, no one will know. It'll be like buying a television without paying--"

⚔️: "Thats..." A sob, "That's stealing!"

🐉: "It's borrowing while I figure out how to repair this. In the first place, how come only people with money get to have televisions? Watching people move about is free, so how is that so different from watching people move about behind a screen?"

Little Silver only cries louder.

The panic, paired with Silver's cries and the impending doom that Lilia is going to be home in around two hours, rattles in Malleus' brain as a forming headache. He has to do something.

... Or nothing. He could just sit around and wait for Lilia. He could even run out to greet him and calmly mention that Silver smashed a remote into the TV in a fit of uncontrolled rage. He could just sit around and watch as Lilia scolds a weeping Silver; entirely safe, unbothered, and not at all feeling guilty for anything. Because he isn't guilty of anything.

The jangling of keys chime in the house, silencing both his anxious breaths and his little brother's anguished tears. Lilia has arrived earlier than expected.

No time to borrow another TV, then.

🐉: "Hmph. Lilia, the television is broken."

Silver restarted his wailing.

🦇: "Wha--"

🐉: "I did it. I was practicing my aim and misfired."

🦇, inspecting the device: "You? Practicing your aim? Do boys nowadays play darts with a remote?"

🐉: "Flimsy lie, I admit. I was mad at my friend and threw a tantrum. Or in this case, threw a remote controller."

🦇: "You-- Malleus, what did I tell you about your temper--"

Lilia is cut off by tiny hands pulling on his shirt. It's Silver, who has since slowed down his tears.

⚔️: "Are you going to punish him?"

🦇: "Punish? Punish is a strong word but, well. Your brother has to learn to curb his temper before he becomes an adult."

⚔️: "Are you going to hit him like Caleb's mom does in the TV you watch?"

🦇: "I don't hit children. I'm just going to... Feed him bellpeppers."

⚔️: "And then not feed him meat?"

🦇: "And not feed him meat. Only veggies."

Silver starts to cry again.

🦇: "Oh dear, why in the world are you crying?"

⚔️: "That's bad. He won't build muscles!"

🦇: "Only for a week! For a few days, perhaps, if he's good--"

⚔️: "It was meeeee! I broke the TV!"

Malleus has already accepted his fate of bellpeppers from the supermarket (which is miles better than anything Lilia would attempt to cook), but with Silver's sudden admittance-- there's no way he'll allow his martyrdom to go to waste like that.

🐉: "Silver is hysterical. I was mad and vented my anger--"

⚔️: "LIAR!! IT WAS MEEEEEE! I THREW THE REMOTE AT THE TV!!!"

🐉: "It was me. It was my horrible temper--"

⚔️: "LIARS GO TO HELL!"

The clamor from work. The fatigue from the commute. The screeching noises of his sons. It is all too overwhelming.

But surprisingly, the good type of overwhelming. He has never seen two children fighting over who gets punished. And that, the thought that somehow he was doing something right-- that he was blessed with two beautiful children and was somehow doing right by them-- is an overwhelming warmth in his chest.

He still has to punish them, of course. With a little bit of amiable talking with his boss, the children are then sentenced to wash dishes at his work. There isn't any real work, of course. Children aren't allowed to work. And the two are so bad at it that he has to cover triple his usual workload, but..

Seeing his boys take it so seriously-- communicating sincerely with each other to split the work, rushing to each other's rescue when another is just about to make a blunder...

Well, that's a view even more expensive than a television, no?

They still have to spend a year without watching cartoons and missing the latest season to his favorite soap opera but...