Matchmaker, Matchmaker, Make Me A Match
09-23-2018, 12:34 PM
As soon as Typhon came into view Malleus' gaze switched to him. He kept a single ear swiveled in his children's direction just in case, but he was confident that all would be well while he was away. Malleus was determined not to coddle his children. Love them, yes. Train them, certainly, but he wasn't going to spend his days chasing them around and keeping them from harm's way. They were old enough now to - more or less - think for themselves. They knew the rules and what was dangerous, and many of the harms that could come their way now were, in his opinion, the fallen god's way of weeding out the unfit. All he could do was give them the wisdom that had been given to him and hope they listened. "Uncle Typhon," he rumbled in greeting. "It is, yes, I hope I didn't worry you. I meant to speak with you after the meeting, but I was required elsewhere and then I'm afraid it slipped my mind." One lone, indignant wail rose up from the cathedral and Malleus' attention briefly turned in that direction. He listened a moment, determined it was no more than a squabble, and then turned back to Typhon with a chuckle. "Kids," he said with a shrug. He cleared his throat to signal a change in topic, then said, "I wanted to talk to you about the future. More specifically, the future of the Abraxas. I've been thinking a lot lately about Ashiel's vision and what it means for us. Each of us has a role to play, duties to fulfill, wouldn't you agree, Typhon?" |