Carrick & Beastie at the Candy Shop

Cαrricк·Vαskαris : White flurries whipped around Carrick and his daughter on their walk into the heart of Immortalis’ shopping district.  Little Irene’s candy jar [... ...and his] had run out. Trips to the candy store were often given as behests to the household servants. But it dawned upon Carrick he’d yet to actually visit a candy shop with his Beastie since they made this city their new home. … there were a lot of firsts he missed out with her. Although the alchemist wasn’t going to dwell on the [c]

Cαrricк·Vαskαris : Because this day, where he meandered along the streets, he could feel the rays of the sun upon his back and the warm tiny fingers of his child’s laced with his. And everything around them was perused by Carrick’s scrupulous gaze. Ice on the ground? He hoisted little Beastie up and over it, making it into a hopping game. Carriage preventing them from crossing? Count how many horses are drawing it. Rude people bumping into them? Well, a hot minute of the tawny warlock berating the [c]

Cαrricк·Vαskαris : person even as they walked away with hunched shoulders of embarrassment. The time came when the pair of them stopped at the entryway of ‘La Foret Miracle.’ From outside, both Carrick and Irene could see the many varieties of chocolate nestled in rows upon rows, shelves upon shelves. With a gentle tug at Irene’s hand, the Wraith looked down at her, a light smile upon his bewhiskered face. “Go on first.” He said, dropping his grip on her to allow the little thing to go flitting [c]

Cαrricк·Vαskαris : ahead of him. Once the door was open, a rush of warm air filled with sweetness wafted over Carrick and Irene. It was nice to take little breaks like this once in awhile and as the arcanist came across a row of chocolate caramel, he called to his daughter. “Do you think Iga would like some of these? Or maybe … “ Good Gods. He couldn’t decide. There were too many choices. CHOOOCOOLAAATE!! “How about you choose for her and your siblings?” [e]

Irene•Vaskaris : :::: Irene skipped alongside Carrick merrily as flurries drifted down from the heavens, blissfully ignorant of the larger world around her. The small Vaskaris' celadon gaze danced at the sight of the flurries, the first which she could recall ever having seen. "Papa! They're -so- pretty!" she gushed as her shoes clicked on the cobblestone path beneath. Umber curls bounced at the edges of her russet-toned cheeks. One tiny hand clasped in Carrick's, the other reaching ever out toward the dainty flakes as they drifted past the pair, but never seeming to catch them. Her skin was warm-- a little too warm for the flurries to last-- but she was happy with the disappearing act. A smaller version of Icarus named Phobos nestled in the crook of her neck, under thick curls. Overhead Deimos flitted along, heralding their arrival with a raspy caw as they approached every passerby, carriage, and stoop. The sun was warm against her lively features, smile beaming >>>

Irene•Vaskaris : in the daylight as she basked in the simple joy of an *afternoon* out with her father. She wasn't too young to recognize how special the occasion felt-- and it likely would continue to feel that way for a long while. Without truly understanding how time and consequences worked, she wondered at the idea that his day walking might be shortlived and that eventually their adventures might return to the quiet nights. The small girl was overjoyed-- believing it was too good to be true. Without protest she was swooped up into his arms (now more like hers than like skeletal remains) and ushered over icy patches and pot holes. As a carriage passed, she marveled at the beast drawing it, without considering for a single moment that it was in their way. Each time a person passed she offered a chipper "Hi!" with the small wave of a white mitten. Lacy underskirts floated around her, clasped with fine silver and enameled hooks. Her dress was tailored >>>

Irene•Vaskaris : to suit her tiny frame, which was by the day less baby-like and more childlike. Irene was long for her age, proportions lanky like her father. She knew not that her hair and skin were given to her by her birth mother, though it had been long since she wondered about the estranged woman. As far as the girl knew, Daveigha was her mama. Her memories were fading of the life she knew before Iga. One of the first feminine faces she could recall was Wren's. The only reason she was certain Wren wasn't her mother was because Wren was her Auntie. The universe had made it so. Daveigha's features had replaced those of her birth mother's in her memory where they lingered-- but confusing as things like thought and memory could be, Daveigha's was also one of the first faces she could recall when she'd been so very fearful in a loud and firy turret. Iga was her angel. Iga and Papa had saved her. She couldn't make out the details-- only faces, colors and feelings. But these were her >>>

Irene•Vaskaris : people. Nobody else. Her father berated someone that nearly tripped over her and the tiny Vaskaris tilted her head as he passed on, watching the stranger go. "Ok, be careful next time!" she encouraged politely. She smiled approvingly up at her father. He was her protector. The little mage could smell the sweets within a few blocks-- practically hearing the scrape of the wooden paddle that turned fudge over and over and over and over and... she closed her eyes and breathed in with delight. "MMM! I'm so -excited!-" she chirped. Phobos protested briefly at her ear. Once they reached the storefront she began to hop giddily. "Papa! We're here, we're here, we're heeeeeeeere!" she said as she jumped from one stone to the next, enthusiastic beyond rationality. She was sure she was about to pee her pants from all of the excitement. The warm air gushed through the door at them and the pair shared a brief expression of longing-- Irene's small features mimicking Carrick's by nature >>>

Irene•Vaskaris : and nothing more. As he encouraged her forward, she dashed off. Irene paused at each table with practiced patience. She resisted simply reaching out to take what she wanted, behaving herself quite well if she did say so herself. "These ones!" she pointed to the colorful candy-coated truffles. "Iga would loooove these ones." she said, nodding as her eyes grew glassy and round. She would love them too.::::