Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Go Ahead and Sign The Scroll [Private 1x1]

Bo thought for a moment, then spoke up. "Uhmmm, ice?" He said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "I think, that's what dad used when he burned himself on the stove-top that one time.. It was a small burn though, I could barely see it."

Bo began thinking again, where had he got this burn? He didn't remember getting a-

Then it hit him, hard. He remembered where he got it.

Bo flinched and looked down at the floor quickly upon remembering it. Being dragged out of the cage, being held and forced to sit up despite how tired Bo was at the time, the glowing red of the strange iron stick with a stamp-like end on it, the heat close to his back's bare skin, then pain, pain pain pain pain PAIN—

Bo made a loud, verbal wince, even though Othello didn't touch the burn.

Tear pricked in the corners of his eyes.

Othello waited as Bo thought through the problem, and then waited some more with raised brows at his sudden reaction. Interesting. It must be in relation to the memory of what happened. He hesitated and then reached out and delicately patted Bo on the top of the head. "There there. Whatever it is, it shall not happen again," he told Bo in an attempt to be conciliatory and comforting. "You are quite safe now."

Then he turned away. "Put on your pants, but not your shirt. I must investigate what your house has by way of aid. Your answer for ice is close, but not quite correct. Straight ice to a burn that bad can cause more harm. Still, cool is good, and there is some medication to help. I will look while you dress."

Bo felt Othello's hand gently patting his head, he flinched again, less vigorous as last time, but then calmed down as if he realized it was just Othello. He was safe, just like Othello said he was. He steadied his breath and wiped away his tears.

He looked at Othello and nodded okay slowly, and gently grabbed the pants, getting up off the bed and began putting them on, stumbling a few times, but other than that, got them on. Bo then sat back down, waiting for Othello to come back with something to help him.

It took Othello quite a while to locate the first aid kit. After looking high and low all over the ridiculously large and ornate house, he finally used a tracking spell. Normally, tracking spells only worked if you had a piece of the thing or person you were tracking, but he was able to cobble one together with a low-level precognition spell. Finally, once he'd located it, he took it into the bedroom where Bo still waited like a sad little lump.

"It is probable you should see a doctor about this," Othello mused as he started spreading ointment on the wound with a gentle touch. "They will ask about your parents and find a new home for you to live in with new caretakers."

Bo seen Othello walk in, gently raising his head up to look at the demon.

He flinched and winced when the ointment was spread onto the wound, but he stifled any further winces as he waited for Othello to spread the ointment, which was a bit cold on his skin, but stung and hurt a bit. "We could get a house doctor.." He murmured, but upon hearing the next part Othello spoke, he held his head up with wide eyes. "What?! No!" He cried out, "I don't want a new home.. I.. I want my home!" Bo turned his head to look at Othello with a sad expression. "And what about you? Where would you go?!" He whined, a worried tone to his voice.

Othello finished medicating Bo's back and applied a large bandage over the area. "There. You may now put on your shirt." He stood up and moved back a couple of paces to give Bo room. He put one arm across his chest and rested the elbow of the other on it, letting the fingers of his hand linger near his chin thoughtfully.

"Where would I go?" he repeated. "I suppose that depends on you. If you fulfill the contract, then I will return home back to my old life. Otherwise, I am quite stuck with you, at least for now." He sighed. "As for staying here, child, you cannot even properly bathe or dress yourself. How do you expect to actually exist, let alone thrive with no parental figures? Bills must be paid. Food must be bought. The house must be cleaned. Who do you expect to handle all of those details of life?"

Bo stood back up and carefully put his shirt on, then straightened it once he had it on, then looked to Othello again. "Whhhy can't you help me with all that stuff? You've been helping me so far.." Bo asked with a frown and an innocent voice. "You could be.. uhm, my new dad?" Bo said, his voice progressively getting quieter as if a bit shy to say it.

"And uhmmmm, I don't know how to fulfill the contract! Remember!" Bo whined, pulling his own arms close to his chest. "I don't.. know my 'designers of that heart' or whatever it was you said earlier today, is.. and you said I had to fulfill it with that.." Bo looked away with his eyes only, "I'm sorry, but I just.. don't know.."

"Please!" Bo suddenly looked back at Othello, "Please don't leave."

He sounded almost like he did back at the cathedral, begging Othello to stay.

Bo didn't want some new house with strangers as his new parents. And though Othello was kind of a stranger, if one looked at it hard enough, Bo at least knew that Othello saved him from a terrible situation, and helped him get home, and that was enough for Bo to trust him. Maybe that wasn't the best thing to be doing, but Bo had been desperate, searching for someone to help him, save him, and Othello was that person, and Bo refused to let that person leave him.

Bo then remembered that Othello had to do what he said. "Stay with me.. and take care of me.. here, at my house! Until the contract is fulfilled." Bo's voice cracked a bit, "That is my request!" He said, the same thing he had said before.

It seemed he was using it as some kind of phrase to assure Othello understood he was ordering him to do something, as if it was different than just asking Othello for something. Whether it was truly more powerful than just asking, saying 'that is my request' was unknown to Bo, but it certainly had a bit of power within it, of magic or not.

Othello crossed his arms and tapped his bicep with the fingers of the opposite arm as he waited for Bo to stop rambling about nonsense. He was about to say something when Bo demanded that Othello stay with him. "This is my request!" Othello raised his brows - they were getting quite the workout around this kid - and tapped harder.

"Child, I am most certainly not going to be your new father," he said firmly. "In fact, I find it rather disturbing how quick you are to replace your true father, though he may be dead, with a stranger. If you request me to stay with you, then I must. However! You must realize that I am a stranger to this world. I do not know how it works. I do not know how to pay the bills for this house or even what bills must be paid. I assume you have some sort of schooling or apprenticeship, but I know nothing of that. I am required to stay by your side, but I do not know how this world works. You may have an attachment to this house, and I do not blame you, but eventually, someone is going to realize what has happened. Authorities are likely looking for you right now. Would it not be better to turn yourself in to those who know how to properly navigate this world?"

Bo flinched at all the things that Othello said, realizing some truth to this. "I.. didn't mean.." He seemed upset that about the true father comment, despite listening to it all. "I didn't mean to disrespect my true dad.. I.." Bo's eyes watered, then he looked down.

"You're right, Othello." He said quietly. Something surprising, coming from Bo.

Bo held at his stomach with one arm and his chest with his other hand, seeming to have gotten anxiety from the conversation. "But.. still, no matter.. I just.. don't want to be alone." Bo's voice cracked, tears rolling down his face. Bo understood Othello not knowing how to do things here on Gaia, because Bo honestly felt like a stranger to gaia's wonders too, have being pampered by nannies and parental figures, inside the house at almost all times, hardly associating himself with the public and the outdoors.

"If.." He spoke up again, "If I can.. somehow, get you the information you need to.. do the bills and, and stuff, and uhm.." He stumbled over his words, "Y'know, all that.." Bo was losing his train of thought, unable to come up with the words, feeling a bit hopeless in convincing this demon.

Bo just went silent, with a small little whimper, and then seemed to refuse to speak.

It seemed the cogs in his brain were working overtime, thinking harder about the predicament he was in. Even if Othello had promised to stay, Othello was right, it was disrespectful to his previous parents, and what bills needed to be paid? How were they to be paid? And the authorities would come to the house, then what? He'd be brought to a foster home, to a new family entirely.

Bo wanted the solution to his problems, but he just didn't know.

Bo realized..
He didn't know anything, about anything.

Not about gaia, not about demons like Othello, not about bills, money, schooling, authorities, fostering..

Bo didn't even know the desires of his heart.

He sat down on the bed, sniffling, finally speaking up. "Othello, help me." It was a vague request as he didn't know how to word it, and his voice resembled how it did when he was back at the cathedral, helpless, confused, scared, hopeless.

Othello raised his eyes to the ceiling briefly. Then he gave a slight incline of his head. "Very well, child, I will do what I can to help you as you requested. I must warn you, I may not be successful in this endeavor, but I shall do my best. Now, it is past time that you should eat. Come. Downstairs to the table." He turned and started to walk. "Do you have many books in this house?" he asked over his shoulder.

This was all such a burning, hot mess, but what else was he to do? Even if he was not contractually obligated to aid this child, he could not just abandon him. Even demons had something of a moral code, even if it was a bit shaky at times.

Bo followed Othello quietly, looking down at the floor. "Sorry.." He said underneath his breath.

"There's a library downstairs, or, uhm, downstairs downstairs." Bo explained, "You go downstairs, and then there's, another downstairs." Bo murmured, "There's a bunch of books there, so many.. There's a bunch of shelves with books on them." Bo kept explaining, "Learning books, fairytales, non-fiction, poems." He smiled a bit at the thought of books. "I even think there's a few romance novels that my nanny read on occasions."

Those books were as good a start as any, he supposed, and, of course, this house had a library. How could it not? He guided Bo to the table and sat him down to eat. Leaving Bo to eat, he headed to the "down, downstairs" to dealve into the world of books. It took him some time to figure out the fictional books from the nonfictional books, but once he learned to differentiate between them, he picked out several that he thought might be useful to him. Arms full of books, he carried them back upstairs to see how Bo was doing with his... he supposed it was dinner. It was dark out now, and the sun had gone to bed. Night time.

"When you have finished, it will be time for you to sleep," Othello said, setting the books on the table. "Sleep and time heals much, and you have been through a lot."

While Othello searched for books, Bo was eating. It was a bit cold, but it was okay to eat and tasted good enough.

And when Othello came back, Bo was a few bites from being done with his food. Bo looked at the books that were set on the table, "What are those for?" Bo asked curiously, swallowing a bite of mac and cheese. Bo didn't acknowledge the sleep comment, but he agreed. He felt like he'd feel better once he got some sleep, as though he had gotten the occasional sleep back at the cathedral, it was interrupted often and it was uncomfortable to sleep on the thin blanket in the bottom of the cage. It was cold, hard and itchy.

He took the last bite of food and then set the utensil down gently on the plate and looked at Othello and the books again.

"These books are to hopefully help me to learn more about Gaia," Othello replied, opening the top book. "I do not know if they will or not, but it will be a place to start. If I am to stay with you for long, then I should have a more exact knowledge of how this world works."

Bo watched as Othello opened the top book. "Ohh, well.. Books are good for learning, at least, that's what mum says.. uhm, used.. used to say." He shuffled in his seat awkwardly, "After my food settles and you read up on.. Gaia, can you.. uhm, wrap me up for bed? My mum or my dad used to do it for me every night, they would take turns, and on rare occasions, the nanny would have to." He explained.

"I miss that." He added, underneath his breath, sadly.

Othello closed the book he was reading on his finger and looked at Bo. "You will have to explain that one to me. Wrap you up for bed? Is it standard for children from your world to be cocooned for some reason?" he asked, mystified. Was it some sort of medical thing? Social? Developmental?

Despite his original sadness in his previous comment, this did get a soft giggle out of Bo. "No.. You're supposed to wrap up with a blanket so you don't get cold at night.. Silly." Bo said warmly, finding Othello's confusion of why Bo needed to be wrapped up for bed. "Do demons not sleep? Or at least, sleep in beds?" He asked curiously.

He still wasn't certain he understood what Bo was asking for, but he supposed he would find out soon enough. He shifted so he could put one leg over the other. "Yes, I suppose I will aid you in that," he agreed. "Yes, silly, we do, indeed, sleep in beds. It is far more comfortable than hanging upside down by our legs." He was being sarcastic, but only lightly so. He turned a page in the book he was holding. "Let me know when you are ready to lay yourself down. I will aid you in this... wrapping."

Bo at first was fooled by the light sarcasm, but realized it was him being sarcastic.

After a few minutes of silence, Bo spoke up, "You can.. aid me with this wrapping now." Bo jokingly said, maybe to get revenge on the sarcastic comment earlier. Bo got out of the chair, waiting for Othello to get up and follow him back to the bedroom.

"Very well." Othello snapped the book closed. He'd nearly finished reading it, anyway, and it would not be hard to find his place again. "Come along."

He led the way back to Bo's room and waited for Bo to climb up onto the bed. Once Bo was up on the bed, Othello took the blanket and quickly and securely rolled Bo around until he was tightly and completely swaddled in the blanket. FInished, he adjusted the pillow behind Bo's head and pulled up the quilt. There. Wrapped up. He didn't know why this was supposed to make a difference or what was wrong with merely laying under the covers, but it was a small thing. He may as well go along with it. What could it hurt.

"There you are. Sleep well," he told Bo, patting the top of his head. "I will be around."

He stod and started for the door. The time zones were different between his dimension and this one, and he was not the least bit tired. He may as well continue reading.