the hills have eyes.
08-26-2013, 01:56 PM
Basilisk pondered over this news for a long moment. Would his mother be angry if she knew that Kaios had fathered children other than he and his two siblings? Did he even have any idea? Perhaps he'd even had multiple litters across the lands. It was not surprising that, if Kaios had known, that he hadn't told his family, or bothered introducing them ... but still he felt cheated somehow, like he had deserved to know. A slight frown turned the corners of his lips downward, as he considered this new revelation. And yet, more news came -- there was not just one child, but three. Were they the same age as he? Had he sired these children while he'd been with his mother? Though Basilisk was no saint himself, the idea of his father running off while Newt was with children and impregnating more women didn't settle well with him. "So Kairos is pretty much your cousin?" Not by blood, of course, but by adoption. Which would mean, in turn, and he and Cross were sort of cousins -- just like he'd said. "Hm." And there were two more half-siblings running off somewhere, and potentially more... a possibility he had never really considered. Suddenly the conversation changed, and in a direction he wasn't totally comfortable with. 'Look, we've all got the burdens of being a legacy. Some of us just get heavier ones than others. But I like you Basil; I hope you won't crack under yours.' He shrugged his wide shoulders slowly, muzzle dropping a bit and gaze averting to the ground. Only briefly did he look back up at Cross, noting the slight grin he wore. "I watched my father die," he said gruffly. He had no interest in becoming like his father, had never aspired to be known as a beast who enjoyed raping women and killing wolves -- but he would not deny that he felt his sanity slowly slipping from him sometimes. How could he normal? He'd grown up watching his father dominate his mother, and watching her take the abuse willingly and even ... happily at times. His expression faltered slightly, memories consuming him for a moment and refusing to relinquish their hold on him. "I know my father was not a great man, but killing him was not a form of punishment. It simply ended his life. And punished my family in turn. We never deserved that." He was hateful, yes, and he believed he had the right to be. A slight snarl curled his lips, but faded as he glanced back at Cross, as though the male grounded him and brought his wandering mind back to reality. He rarely shared this kind of stuff with anyone, and he figured Cross was of a similar character, judging by how he'd acted thus far today. |