little boy blue and the man on the moon

[liltuna]

the parenting meme for found families, new families, and all things in-between     Did some kid show up on your doorstep claiming you're their parent? Did you just take the test and found out a surprise kiddo is on the way? Well, this meme is for you! We want to see all parent-child dynamics, from well-established to brand-new. Stepmom marrying into parenthood? Hyper-competent older sibling playing the role of parent? Fake!family for the sake of a mission? Just be home before dinner, and we're sure it'll all work out. how to play 1.  Top-level your character along with the role they're likely to play. Since this can be canon or some kind of AU, add some details as to what you have in mind.  ★ You might be looking to play out scenarios between two new parents, or maybe you're looking for interactions between parent characters and the kiddos. 2. Get threading!

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[awakeningmoon]

For his part, Ceodore welcomes the harshness. Ceodore doesn't want to be coddled. He doesn't want to be special just because his father is king. Ever since he was little, he knew he wanted to be his own person.

Then it was time. His father was charging at him. Ceodore braced himself, blocking the sword blow. He barely noticed the shield coming from the other side, but he did, just in time to duck; if it had been an actual sword instead of a shield, he would have gotten a haircut.

(Mother wouldn't have liked that. But maybe it would have been nice. He liked having short hair compared to his parents' longer styles.)

He pulled his sword back with a twist, stepping away as he swung towards his father's torso.

[reflectreveal]

Were that a sword, she would not have been best pleased- no. And were Ceodore too slow to react accordingly, she would not have liked the bruising the shield would likely have left upon him. Feeling it collide with nothing, Cecil can't help but allow himself a faint smile. Very faint. Very fleeting- as he had not the time to indulge himself.

The sword that comes for him is from Ceodore's right hand. It's a quick blow- but no less capable of causing damage for the haste of which it was delivered. Given their position, Ceodore's right hand means it would be aimed at Cecil's left side. So it was a simple matter to deflect the thing with that shield still upon his left arm- stepping forward to aim a (quite savage, actually) kick at Ceodore's torso as a counter.

The lesson would have been a simple one. Expect attack at any time. from anywhere. at any part of your body. But the lesson didn't need teaching- his son had already stepped away as he had swung, which meant that Cecil's foot meets nothing and that kick that would have winded him, armour or not, is reduced to a ...rather large step into nothing. at nothing. And a slow turn back around toward him.

Once again, Cecil finds himself smiling. He turns, sword and shield in hand, before speaking. Evenly, calmly. Clearly not even slightly out of breath.

"Very good. I think you may be ready for training with a live blade."

...Well. That was something Rosa certainly wouldn't like. Maybe he could wait a little longer. For her sake.

"I would have you prove yourself once more, my son. Take my shield from me."

Despite his talent and despite the work the lad had put into his training thusfar, Ceodore would not be able to do so. He was sure. Him doing so would be the son outmatching the father. And while Cecil was certain that one day it would happen, now was not that time. It was a dead cert that any attempt now would be a failure.

...And perhaps that would grant Rosa peace from worry of accident for a little longer.

[awakeningmoon]

Ceodore feels his chest swell a bit with pride at being told that he could start training with a live blade. Mother wouldn't like it, but he couldn't let her protect him. Not when he had to learn how to be a knight so he could one day protect others.

"Yes, father," he said, trying not to sound too excited. It was a privilege and a duty to to train, and one to be taken seriously.

Still, it was nice to have his talents recognized by Father.

He took a breath, and readied himself for another round. "Understood, father." He got into a fighting stance. "Prepare yourself," he said, and he lunged at his father, bringing his sword down on the shield...

Except he didn't connect. Instead, he pulled the sword back, then thrust it up, under the shield.

Could he take it? Hopefully! But it would depend on his father's reaction time.

[reflectreveal]

Ceodore's certainly on the right track when it comes to employing speed in order to achieve his goal. But there's a problem. His first blow results in nothing- the sword missing Cecil and the shield entirely- bouncing harmlessly against the concrete below them. He has to be commended for enduring the recoil that would have taken place from that. It couldn't have been easy to shrug it off, pull the sword back, and slide the blade underneath the shield.

But even then, his attempt is doomed. It was far easier for Cecil to leverage the shield strapped to his arm (and the blade now being held underneath it) than for Ceodore to leverage his blade to manipulate the shield. Cecil twists his arm and the shield upon it backward, twisting the blade along with it.

Now, the blade was well and truly wedged between Cecil's armoured body and the underside of his shield, giving absolutely no opportunity for retrieval. And worse, the blade is at a disjointed angle- giving the wielder two choices. Let go, or very possibly risk breaking his wrists.

His choice. Cecil hoped it would be the former- for prize or not, this was only training. Regardless. He ends the lesson by making his own point- or rather, the point of his own practise blade, touch the center of his son's neck. It's a tap. Nothing more. But the point is clear. If he had tried that in actual combat, he would be dead.

He removes the sword- and then straightens out his arm, allowing Ceodore's own blade to slip free. And, gently:

"A good effort. Would you care to try again, or would you prefer to move onto axes?"

Or they could take a break and just talk. With all the affairs of the kingdom having the majority of the king's time, and training having the majority of the prince's, it had been quite a while. But it's Ceodore's choice. In Cecil's mind, any time spent with him was good time.

Sorry, for the delay. Long weekend

[awakeningmoon]

Speed is mostly what Ceodore has on his father. He knows he's not the physical powerhouse his father is, and doesn't think he'll ever be, he's overheard castle gossip that he's the perfect mix of his parents when they were his age.

"Aw," Ceodore did his best not to pout. He shouldn't allow himself the luxury of pouting at being defeated. But his bottom lip stuck out a little before he pulled it back into a flat line.

The offer to change weapons brightens his mood though. "Axes," he said. He pretty handy with an axe. He's gotten used to using axes since he had been chopping firewood to try to bulk up some. (It hadn't been working. Yet)

All good!

[reflectreveal]

Indeed so. For what he lacks in Cecil's offensive and defensive capability, he possesses speed, as well as an advanced grasp of white magic that's far beyond most if not all knights. Rosa's influence, of course. Her talent in the art had scarcely dwindled- and even as queen of Baron, she still was a practictioner of white magic.

Perhaps when Ceodore was younger, his talent was noted. Perhaps there was even talk of him being best encouraged to take the blessing given to him and to follow in her footsteps- committing himself fully to the white. If he had- he likely would have eclipsed even her as a mage by now. But he had not. He is hardly lesser for it. Instead, his talents had grown, and changed.

And that's fine, by Cecil's reckoning. It'd be fine, even if he had took more of his traits and not Rosa's, and refused to become a paladin. What was paramount was his son's happiness. Following closely behind that was his capacity to defend himself- and defend Baron and all of her people... because that was his lot in life. And sadly, that was the only non-negotiable thing in any of it. He would take the crown, one day. And then his left would not be his own any longer.

He gets the axes.
Axes in name, only. For they're just as blunt as the practise swords. They're heavier, though. Far heavier- coming in multiple sizes and shapes. There's handaxes, intended to be held one in each hand. There's longer ones that resemble halberds more than anything to actually chop anything with. And then there's what Cecil settles on. A large battleaxe that's quite unweildy and topheavy- but absolutely devastating should it connect- blunt or not.

Ah. There's one thing he should say before they begin.

"I trust you will not tell your mother."

...About the axes, that is. She would not be best pleased.

[awakeningmoon]

What Ceodore wants is to be his own man, which is why he dabbled in both the marital and magical arts, so that he wouldn't be a copy of either of his parents. He was glad his parents let him try this on his own. He knew it would make him a less effective white mage than others, but he'd be more flexible, able to protect and heal.

Ceodore takes the practice axe with a nod, getting a good grip. He preferred battle axes that only required one hand, two-handed axes being just a bit too heavy for him. But it was fine. The practice axes weren't as heavy as the real ones.

"Why not?" Ceodore asked. He hadn't been planning on telling her; he was past the age of sharing everything with his parents. "It's not like she doesn't know I chop firewood with a hatchet."