mind your tongue -- open
#1
[align=center]
thes code
[align=left]sheogorath
[justify]Sheogorath had been minding his own business, which wasn't common, given that he so often enjoyed sticking his nose into the affairs of others, no shame at all. He was settled upon a bench across the the street from the beach, watching a few seagulls gather upon the sand nearby, but his peace was shattered when he saw Mary approaching. Joshua was with her, lacking the balance he'd eventually have as an adult, but every time the child stumbled, Mary's hand kept him on his feet. Sheogorath smiled lightly at the pair, his eyes gleaming as they settled upon Joshua, but as soon as Mary was close enough, she ushered Joshua into the sand, close enough that she could keep an eye on him, but far enough away that the child wouldn't hear what was being sad between the adoptive mother and his father.

"Sheo...we have to talk." Mary uttered quietly, a bit shyly. Sheogorath wondered why, for a moment. She had no reason to be shy around him, but her eyes were shifting from his face to Joshua, showing her discomfort. After a moment, she sat upon the bench beside him, drew in a breath, and parted her lips. This time, she sounded much more confident, serious, drawing herself up to her full height, at least while sitting. "You need to watch your mouth around Joshua." Mary stated the words in what could easily be described as a demanding tone of voice. Sheogorath thought for a moment about what she might be talking about, before realizing that he did, on occasion make a threatening joke in Joshua's presence. Not to him, of course, but to others.

[b]"He's too young to understand." Sheogorath waved off her concern with a gesture, his voice just as serious.

"He will one day, and with you joking around like that around him, I'm worried..." Mary paused, as if not sure how to word what she wanted to say next. Sheogorath had a good idea.

"He'll turn out like me." It wasn't a question. It was a quiet statement. Mary nodded her confirmation. "Okay." Sheogorath conceded. "I'll be more careful around Joshua." The father agreed quietly. Mary offered a small smile in return. She had accepted that he wasn't the best of men, but she knew he'd never be a danger to her, or the child, so she had little reason to fear Sheogorath. Perhaps that was why she had so boldly approached him for such a discussion.

"Thank you." Mary replied, her voice shifting into something lighter, happier. Then, she stood, and approached Joshua once more. The boy was digging in the sand with his two hands. Sheogorath hoped the lad wouldn't be pinched by a hidden crab. He watched silently as Mary played with his son, wondering if he should join in or not.

[align=center]tags and biography


and i see fire, blood in the breeze
[sup]AND I HOPE THAT YOU'LL REMEMBER ME
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#2
[align=center][div style="width: 530px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 13px; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.15; padding: 4px;"]Having Sheogorath as a father was... probably difficult. Being a father and being Sheogorath at the time was probably also quite difficult. Eccentricity was never a given negative, but having a role model whose behaviour was more than a tad sporadic — and not necessarily in the harmless, easily-controlled sense — was bound to be tricky. There was a fine line between uniqueness and madness, and Link never sought to shame anybody for being either (hell, he was one to talk), but he didn't envy Mary. She had a lot on her shoulders and nobody around to give her a hand. Maybe he ought to offer. He didn't know how much Sheo trusted him, but one stable figure wasn't always enough in a child's life, least of all in a place like the Badlands.

Link still couldn't fathom why Mary had brought Joshua here. But it wasn't his son, and he was in no position to judge another person's parenting, questionable as he privately found it.

"Hey, Sheo, Mary. Hi, Joshua." As he spoke, his voice shifted: fond, then polite, then gentle. Warm throughout, but Link knew better than to overstep in his speech. It was the verbal equivalent of hugging someone who expected a handshake after the first meeting. At his side, the stray dog (if he could even call it a stray anymore — it followed him everywhere, crowded him when he tried to sleep, responded to his voice like any pet) wagged its tail in silent greeting, tongue lolling. "Everything okay?"
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