✧ FOX TALES ✧

Itou looks over at how Haruki shakes and argues. Complied with everything, Itou could tell that the punishment Harumi had been given had been cruel. And while it was never fair to compare past pains with another, Itou knew without a doubt that Haruki had a far more painful childhood.

“Of course we can be friends, Haru. Though I might call you Haruki-san out of habit.” Itou thinks it best not to press and ask more questions, it’d be better to let Haruki relax while they waited for Kitamura. “If you’d like, you can call me Sachio. Or Itou if you prefer. And… don’t feel pressured to talk about your past, Haru… We can talk about something else. Like cows. Or tea. Or you can ask me a question while we wait.” Anything to help his new friend feel less anxious.

Haruki lifts his head, perking up. It's weird hearing someone other than Kitamura or Kyu call him Haru, but it's weird in a nice way. Once they get out of here, he is going to find something nice to do for or give Itou, he decides. That's got to be a good first step at being officially friends with someone, plus Itou's trying so hard to keep Haruki's spirits up even though he's just as trapped in here.

As long as they keep talking like Itou suggests, then time will pass quicker without Haruki having to think about the rocks piled all around them. What to talk about, though? He's already asked about cows and tea--

"Do you... have any pets? Or siblings?" Both of those seem like something important to know about a friend.

Despite the hiss and fangs, Dagonet laughs. The claim lacks because of that. How many times has someone thrown the vampire claim at the poor prince to earn that response? Poor poor Mordred.

"I wanted to take a nap~ I have to cool off before I get a nap, you know~ Though sometimes working up a sweat can make you sleepy." A glance at the book again. Science fiction. Not something he thought Mordred would like. But you learn something new every day. "What is it about~? Aliens? Space travel? Mechs??? Japan has a thing for mechs right? The big mech suits that people pilot and fight in? Have you read one of those?"

"I just gave you an ice pack, why would you want to work up a sweat--" Sometimes the things Dagonet says make no sense to him, leaving Mordred to shake his head. But instead of trying to puzzle out someone as baffling as Dagonet, he settles for the subject change to the book. Talking about books is infinitely easier. "No mechs in this one, but I've read a few, they're popular here. If you're curious, I can recommend some titles?"

Looking down at the book in hand, Mordred debates how to explain its particular story. He sighs again, getting up to instead move to sit a short distance from Dagonet, then holding the book out for him to see. "Here. This one's mostly about space travel, visiting other inhabited planets, that sort of thing. It doesn't have much action if that's what you prefer; not that I mind, the ecology and cultures of the different words is what I like more. The author is a biologist so there's a decent bit of science behind what she's created." Mordred seems quite oblivious to the fact he's said more in the last moment than he has most of the evening, but then he's always been more talkative when it's about something of interest.

After a minute spent admiring the picture she receives, Percy sends a couple in return: one that commemorates when a large grump approached her for attention, and one of a young calico that enjoys posing. She tends not to take many photos, but she'll keep an eye out for more opportunities; it's only fair that if she demands to see this person's kitten, she needs something to trade.

A fellow cat enjoyer, huh? Although he's only had Rook for a very short time, his phone's storage is fast becoming overfilled with pictures of her and her shenanigans, a number of which he's making mental notes to forward to Shelley after he's taken a moment to appreciate the ones she's sent first.

The text conversation would have been in danger of devolving into a cat photo exchange then, if not for Shelley's timely follow up question concerning the tea. Mordred gives a guilty start (and he's grateful no one is around to see). He'd almost forgot again!

✉ [ text to : Shelley ]➥ The tea is excellent, thanks! I've been using it daily.

✉ [ text to : Shelley ]➥ What do you blend it with to make it so [ Mordred types, deletes, and retypes a variety of words here before settling on-- ] effective?

Guin had mentioned Shelley had a healing Ability and that it was involved in creating the tea, but he can't recall if that's information he should know or not. Abilities could be touchy subjects for most people. Safer to tread lightly and let Shelley volunteer what she cares to.

from @vulpesly : "your reckless impulses will get you killed!" [ may i interest you in young!arthur and merlin? ]

Hypothetically, a king should have the support of his knights instead of handling dangerous tasks alone—-but in practice, Arthur is stubbornly determined to shoulder every burden himself, lest anyone else be crushed under the weight. Many already have been, after all, and he doesn't want anyone else to suffer what he has, what they had. Artificial humans or not, their pain was real. Their lives mattered, however short they ended up.

Still washing the blood from his latest mission from his hands, Arthur considers ignoring Merlin entirely. The council is composed of mere humans, easy to kill, but what about her? Ethereal, eternally young—-capable of finding new benefactors for her project if the current ones fail.

For a second, Merlin's expression darkens. While she does not expect a mere chiding to spark a sudden sense of self-preservation in the young king, the least he could do is give her more than a passing glance. How did this boy grow up to be so bloody insolent? Perhaps the title of king was granted him too early? Crowns weigh heavy on young heads and tend to turn them in undesirable directions, no matter how dedicated his teacher may be.

Unfortunately she does not have the resources to try again with this one. Other knights could be created, but Arthur is one of a kind. Only he will be the one to obtain what she seeks, and that obstinance of his is one of many contributing threads in the tapestry of that fate, loathe although she is to admit it. She must do all that she can to ensure he lives to see that day.

The most troublesome part is that Arthur has already begun to piece things together, cunning little king that he is. If he does not outright know than he certainly suspects he is irreplaceable to her, which grants him a leverage Merlin would rather he not possess. How does one rein in someone who holds no fear of death or retaliation?

A little dose of Merlinisms seems the only viable option. A touch of oddity, a dash of prophecy, a hint at something that might spark enough interest in Arthur for him to keep at least one foot out of his grave. Or at least distract from frustrating conversation.

And so Merlin swoons, the back of her hand pressed to her forehead as she stumbles forward. Her other hand grasps for Arthur's arm to brace herself. "Ah! Beware! Beware, your majesty!" Her grip tightens on him. And if a few errant sparks--or were they butterflies?--slip from her sleeves in the process, well a wizard must always have tricks up her sleeve, mustn't she? Merlin brings her face closer, peering intently at the king, before she delivers her prophecy in a stage whisper, "I foresee a future in which you have a child that gifts you tenfold the grief you have given me. You must change course before this fate befalls you!"

Niimi doesn’t know what he expects. Even though he has always dreamed of a reunion, it was the main reason he volunteered to see if jumping timelines was possible. Even in that awkward moment, Niimi takes his time memorizing his brother’s appearance. Filling in the blanks of fading memory. Jono hasn't changed from them, even if he didn't seem so big anymore. He was still warm. Warm and comforting. Especially when Jono pulls Niimi into a hug. It's warm and real. Jono was right here hugging him.

There is a choking noise, hands trembling before they grip tightly into the back of Jono’s coat, and for the first time in over a hindered years, he sobs. Any attempt to remain composed breaks away as he buries himself in Jono’s shoulder. He doesn't want to let go.

"I missed you so much... I tried to make you proud of me-" But he would have prefered to have his brother more than anything. "I told every kid I took care of stories about how cool you were, but I wish you were there to show them. You big dummy-"

The agony, the grief, Niimi has endured rings clear in his voice, each word a fresh wound in Jono's heart. He did this. He caused this pain. Or would have, if the timelines had not be altered. Jono can understand why his future self had made the choice, and moments ago he would have said with perfect confidence that it is the only acceptable choice. However, to hear--to feel--the aftermath of that choice now in the form of his little brother sobbing in his arms... suddenly, Jono is not so certain.

Knowing what he does now, knowing the suffering it would inflict on Niimi, could he really make that same call again? Would it be kinder to not spare him? The thought is a terrifying one. What kind of future would exist then, if he chooses to die alongside his brother instead of forcing Niimi to carry on alone?

But these are not thoughts he can or should let into the open. The only hint of what Jono might be thinking is found in the way he's grown tense, a faint trembling in his limbs as he shoves doubts and emotions alike as deeply as they will go.

He has never been one for letting sorrow or pain show, so perhaps it is not so surprising to Niimi when when he eventually lifts a hand to gently rap the other atop his head. "You little idiot, I've always been proud of you." The handle settles atop Niimi's head then as a ghost of a smile is given. "Long before you became the savior of the realm."

Niimi slumps forward a little at those words. Gon did like to eat. And Gon did like to wander around when Niimi was in school and when Jono was at work. He can’t blame his friend for getting bored at home with Kiku who spends that time sunbathing and napping.

But Jono was going to be mad to find out Gon has been hanging around his work place bumming enough food to be recognized at a glance. Gon doesn’t even seem bothered, wagging his tail rather happily.

“Don’t worry! Nii-chan gives Gon and I plenty of yummy food~ He just gets bored while I’m at school.” A smile as he holds Gon to his chest and gives a smile. “I’m Niimi Nankichi~ It’s nice to meet another friend of Gon.”

Mordred crosses his arms, watching the two with... well, few would call it a smile, but the medic's expression as certainly softened. The fox and the kid are both cute, it's hard not to be endeared by their antics. Although what they're doing running around a museum in the middle of the day is anyone's guess. "Shouldn't you be in school now, though?"

Oh, wait--

"Hang on. Were you with that class?" Mordred points toward the exhibit he had seen a group of students around. Except the students and teachers are no longer in sight, and he's not sure which direction they had gone. "We should get you back before someone notices." Before Niimi gets in trouble, or Mordred gets mistaken for some foreign kidnapper.

"Maybe Nii-chan is nicer with Kichi and I?" Everyone always describes Jono in a way that doesn't fit with the person that adopted and cared for them. They say Jono is mean and a bully, but would a bully adopt and take care of two little foxes? Gon doesn't think so. People just don't understand Jono the way they do.

Though Haruki makes a point. Jono might get fussy if Haruki bought it. Like he'd get fussy over Gon and Kichi bringing home bugs. A small pause as the fox sits, paw up to hold his chin as he thinks. "We should get Nii-chan eels, instead then! I can catch them."

Jono likes eels? Haruki is learning more about the other Hunting Dog today than he ever expected, and none of it is as monstrous as he's imagined Jono must be like when off-duty. He sounds... mostly normal? At least from the way Gon describes him. They're talking about the same Jono, right?

"Okay, let's get eels! I know where we can get some good ones and it's not far! There's a shop that sells tons of them." He probably shouldn't be leaving since he's still technically working, but Haruki doubts anyone will notice he's missing except his teacher. And all he has to tell Kitamura then is that he was helping someone help their family! No problem!

Haruki takes a few strides toward the perimeter gate, then stops and turns back to Gon before opening his arms in invitation. Carrying the fox would be faster, then Gon can save all his energy to catch the eels in the big tank at the fish market!

With that settled, they can get back to what's important: cake. Dissatisfied that they haven't yet been rewarded for their intellect, they paw at the other's hand and mew again, eyes wide and pleading as they glance meaningfully at the dessert. It's not the tastiest they've ever had, but it's enjoyable nonetheless—-and everything is even more delicious when shared with an adorable kitten. They're doing this human a favor in that regard.

The meows seem close enough to confirmations for Mordred to get the picture. He might have continued asking questions (because who wouldn't be curious about a cake-enjoying blue cat), but that's when they start making their demands clear. The pleading look and the nuzzle both draw a quiet laugh from Mordred; he has no power to resist, not that he would even if he did.

"Okay, okay, you can have more." He's tempted to offer up the entire plate, but watching a cat accept bites from a fork is cuter so that's the route he chooses. Another forkful is therefore offered, bigger than the last, and with a decent share of frosting to be had. "Oh, nice to meet you, by the way." It's important to be polite to cats, especially very smart maybe-not-quite-cats.

There is a noise made when the compress is shoved in his face. A deserved retaliation for the remark he made about vampires. But the compress if placed on the back of his neck and the jester lays on his chest, head pillowed on crossed arms.

“What are you reading anyway? You could come read over here~” The threat of getting kicked out if he didn’t shut up is thoroughly ignored. It’d be boring if he shut up and Mordred should know that Dagonet wasn’t one for silence. "Oh! Are you worried you might bite me because my neck is out~??"

"It's just a sci-fi novel." Mordred sighs. He doubts Dagonet could stop talking even with a knife to his throat, but since Mordred lacks both a knife at hand or the intent to use it, he's left with enduring the endless chatter instead of making progress in his book.

"I'm. Not. A. Vampire." That claim would probably be a little more substantial if Mordred had chosen not to say so with a hiss through clenched fangs. "And I thought you wanted to cool off, sitting next to someone does the opposite of that, you twit."