#asteriusofcrete

His muzzle is tear-stained and his fur is a mess, little arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down in what is a full-blown tantrum. He wants Illy. Not Illy's friend. He doesn't care that Illy had sat down and explained to him that it was only for a couple of days. He'd still cried and clung onto his savior's leg until he'd been set down one final time.

The little Minotaur glares up at Damien, as much as he can without any real facial expressions, hoping he looks super intimidating, all three feet of him.

@asterius-of-crete

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Damien had been told that Illinois had adopted a child, and he was genuinely delighted for his friend. From what he had seen and heard, the adoption had done them both the world of good. Illinois had a purpose beyond his job, while the child - Asterius - had a new, better family.

Right now, he was far from intimidated, but he felt very guilty, and that gave him reason to withdraw just a little as he tried to decide how best to handle this. His first action was to kneel down so he was closer to the height of the child.

"I'm sorry, Asterius. I know you're very angry at us for not letting you go with Illinois, but... sometimes, adventures can be too big for even the bravest of little adventurers." That was hardly reassuring. Luckily, while Damien himself was a shy child, Celine had her fair share of tantrums - as though holding enough anger for the two of them. Scolding only made it worse, and this wasn't Asterius' fault to begin with. "You know, I bet we can have just as good adventures of our own. Have you ever stayed in the city before?"

For When You Need a Hug (Accepting across the blogs, but will be slow!)

@asterius-of-crete

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Wilford was the first to admit he was not the smartest man. There were things he knew, but a lot of things he didn't know. He didn't know how to correctly lay out a financial budget. He didn't know how to properly critique books (or understand what he was reading half the time).

But he did know a thing or two about emotions.

He wasn't fully sure what had happened in the previous moments. He had been in the garden, carefully examining the state of one of the bushes - it was still looking a little thin, but it ought to make a good recovery for the summer - where there was an almighty bellow erupting from inside the manor. Wilford jolted up and whipped around just in time to see Asterius storm outside. The reporter wasn't noticed. Asterius muttered phrases that didn't sound recognisable to Wilford as he stomped his hooves in an angry march toward.... Ohhh no that was one of George's prized pots that he won in an auction.

George? Who's George? No one by that name lives here.

In a flash, Wilford bolted over. He pounced from behind, wrapping both strong arms around the Minotaur's torso and firmly holding on. There was another bellow as Asterius trashed in Wilford's arms. As Wilford struggled to prevent any weak points emerging, he was certain he could see Asterius briefly grow taller. Asterius' fingers dug into Wilford's arms while trying to pry them off, while his flailing ensured that one of his horns scraped the human's face and drew blood.

All the while, Wilford held on. This was a storm he could weather. He had always been a strong man, even when he was younger. He was the one who could always carry the things other would struggle with. He could comfortably shoulder his own weight over distances. Even with the growing list of hand marks appearing under his sleeves, the cuts on his face, and the potential bruise on his chin from Asterius trying to headbutt him, Wilford's arms refused to budge.

The resilience paid off. Whatever energy Asterius had built up must have run out between his attempt to shapeshift while also putting up an almighty struggle. Finally, after Wilford had long lost count of the minutes, the trapped Minotaur slumped in defeat.

"You are too stubborn," grumbled Asterius.

He climbs the chair and stands on it, reaching for the nuggets again with a happy cry. Everything he touches is getting covered in tiny dirty hand-prints, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. The nuggets are good and there's so many of them he can finally eat until he feels full. He hasn't felt that in so, so long.

In fact, the Minotaur eats quickly, and feels stuffed by the time Will returns with water. He's sat back in the chair, having slowed down for the first time since their 'hunt'. "Not... hungry?" What a novel feeling. "Not hungry! Happy!"

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What a fun child to have around! Wilford already finds himself enjoying the energy Asterius brings to the bar. This is probably why some of the Jims like talking about their kids so much.

It's little wonder that in the moments it takes to refill the glass and replace the ice, the child has eaten a good amount of the nuggets. He places the glass in close reach before taking the seat on the opposite side of the small table.

"It's a nice feelin', eh? Good ta take a break so ya don't feel sick either." Wilford reaches into the bowl and takes a nugget for himself. Instead of popping it into his mouth, he wags it at Asterius. "An' while yer here, y'll be happy, I promise that. We'll be able ta have a bit of fun before we start workin' too, an' after you've had time ta let yerself rest."

Asterius kept making unhappy noises, barely human, as he pushed his head against Damien's middle. Not even his nubs were big enough to hurt.

"Want Illy!" he sobbed, grabbing onto the man's shirt. He was almost too deep in his tantrum to miss what Damien asked him. Sniffling, he shook his head. He'd been in a palace, kind of, and that palace had been in a city. Kind of. But he'd never gone. "No..."

He pulled away a little to look up at his caretaker. "...adventures?"

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The actual pain was minimal. What hurt more was the fact that Asterius was still angry at him. It wouldn't be easy to try and help quell that frustration, but he took the chance to hug the child when he felt tiny hands grab his shirt. It might not be the same as what Illinois might give, but it was comforting and grounding.

"I know you do, Asterius... And you will see him soon, I promise." He could try and arrange a video call with Illinois later, but it was wiser to keep that idea to himself for the moment. He could imagine the tantrums if he told Asterius and the plans to fall through.

"Yes, adventures! The city has a lot of tall buildings, and many nice places where we can go to have something to eat. There's a park myself and my pet dog Barnum like going to. There's a duck pond there. Have you ever fed the ducks? We could take lots of photographs to show Illinois all the things we've done together." It won't be the same as what Asterius might do with Illinois, but it would be better than nothing at all. "And then, we can watch a movie here one night before bed." Speaking of bed, that gave him an idea.

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It was a faint pull that had gotten Wilford's attention, almost like he had brushed his leg off a drawer handle. It was the tug of resistance against his leg that finally had him stop and look down.

He wasn't sure what spurred the child on to cling onto his leg like that. Had he been away for too long? Or maybe the Roller was still a scary place for someone used to somewhere else.

An idea crossed his mind.

Originally, he was going to hoist Asterius onto his hip so he could see what was going on from a better height. Instead...

The child buried his head into the crook of Wilford's neck and nestled closer. He was no parent. He didn't know what exactly that meant. But what other instincts were telling him shouted over the confusion: hold the child close to you. Let him know that he's safe. Everything is going to be okay.

:3

Let Wilf Draw Your Muse! (Accepting!)

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"I'll be honest with ya, I was tempted ta go right in there an' give these ta him myself, buuut... Not my place. But when he's ready, let him see this! An' th' bear toy. He can have it. It's a light pink one."

(@asterius-of-crete / @crushng )

@asterius-of-crete

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Oh dear. Asterius thought he could prank Wilford? The man who not only started this, but is also known for his chaos and mischief?

Oh dearie dear.

The Moonlight Roller, the place between places, was quiet. It was the perfect setting. Wilford had his back to the entranceway, humming a tune as he decorated a wall with summery bunting. He was completely distracted, yet Asterius was as sneaky as a brick smashing a window. That was mistake number one.

He was excited, but in the thrill of the successes he had dropped his guard. That was mistake number two.

He threw one of Wilford's own balloons at the reporter. That was mistake number three.

For an instant, time seemed to slow down. Wilford's butterfly knife was drawn with a flourish as he spun around. His eyes were on the balloon rather than his hand, yet the action of extending the blade was flawless. The right hand whipped up so he could stab the projectile. However... Instead of bursting, the balloon simply pressed against the blade before hurtling back toward the Minotaur at the same speed, like a ball that bounced off a wall.

There would barely be time to brace for impact as the water balloon hit its new target and exploded in a burst of... pink glitter? Where did the water go?

When Asterius depinkified his vision, he would see a man wearing a playful grin that was different, yet slightly reminiscent of a certain Actor. The knife had been put away as both hands rested on his hips.