How Green Becomes Wood

"A little bit, yes," Xander admitted. "I know you said you wanted a sibling to share stuff with, and I get that, but the hardest part of having a sibling is when your styles clash and you're stuck in the same room. It gets intense." As much as he complained, he didn't mind sharing a room. He wouldn't want it another way, but his point still stood. "I wish it was something as calming as yellow."
 
He looked around the house and asked, confused, "You have to share a room?" It must have been smaller than he looked, But he shrugged, "You can get a partition screen, or hang up a curtain between the two sides. My mom and I have done stuff like that a few times, when all we could find is a studio."
 
"If you can help me bring it to the table and get your father, that would be very helpful," Daizi said, just finishing up the last little bit of preparations.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Milo asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, no, you're our guest, you just have a seat, Milo." Daizi told him, asking if he needed anything to drink, and pouring him a glass of water when he said no.
 
"I'll get Ba," Alec said cheerfully and scurried off. "Ba! Ivy! Time for dinner!"

Xander helped Daizi put it all on the table, making certain everything had room for everything else and that Daizi had the space she needed to move.
 
Standing up with a broken rib while holding his daughter was always a delicate balance, but he did manage it, even though he had to take a few seconds to right himself after: Ivy was getting big, and he wouldn't find her particularly heavy, were it not for the fact he was temporarily physically broken.

Milo waited to sit until he saw where everyone else was, and then sat down next to Xander, wringing his hands slightly purely from his own, constant, anxiety. "The food smells wonderful Ms--Doc--Daizi."

"I hope you like it," She told him, putting her hand over Dark's arm when he sat down next to her, "I made sure it wouldn't be too spicy for you."
 
"Mama is the absolute best cook," Alec assured Milo. "Ba is second best, and then Xander is somewhere in the middle."

Xander looked at his brother quizzically. "How can you have a best and a second best with someone in the middle?"

"Because you are floating around in the atmosphere, currently unranked," Alec said, pretending to float his fork around.

Xander stared at Alec's bright smile. Then he glanced at Milo. "Just eat. You don't have to pretend to like it. It's weird. So's he."

"So rude," Alec sniffed, unoffended, and started eating happily.
 
"Thank you, habibi," Daizi grinned warmly at Alec, "I think Dark is a better cook than I am, though."

"You make that soup so you win, but we would be tied if you still only make Egyptian food," Dark replied, teasing her just enough before explaining to Milo, "Egyptian food has the same reputation in the Middle East that British food has in the anglosphere."

"Oh," Milo nodded, grateful for the explanation, but not really knowing what to do with that information. When he actually tried the food, though, he raised his head and understood, "This is really good."
 
"Thought you'd like it," Xander said with a nod. He'd forced himself to eat slower than usual so Milo wouldn't feel rushed, and it was killing him inside. Food! Mouth! Now! No... slow and steady. Same pace as Milo.

"Mama does make this one soup that is super special secret soup that has been passed down through generations of her family," Alec told him. "It's the best worst thing ever."
 
After thanking Milo for this compliment, Daizi asked Alec a bit incredulously, "Best worst thing?"

"Alec undersells it." Dark waved one hand, but his motion was cut forth when Ivy grabbed his, but this only temporarily threw him off, "It is the closest thing those of us who live under heaven and over hell have to a miracle cure. I wish it could be Ivy's first solid food, but we have to introduce her to foods one ingredient at a time."

Daizi chuckled, always flattered by how effusive he was about this one thing, "That would be a nightmare, wouldn't it? If she was allergic to my soup?"

"Nobody could be."
 
"It is the most amazing thing to have ever graced your tongue, and that is no exaggeration, but we can only have it at very specific times. Usually when something bad happens. That's what makes it the best worst thing, because I guarantee you that right now, everyone at this table is hoping someone will get sick so we can have more soup," Alec told Milo.

Xander paused, a forkful of food, hovering in the air. "It is the stuff of angel foods," he agreed with sad wistfulness.
 
Milo stared at them all wide eyed, not at all believing any soup could be good enough to warrant this reaction, but he didn't want to be rude, so he nodded and said, "It sounds phenomenal."

Daizi blushed lightly and momentarily pressed her face against Dark's arm, pleased they all still thought so highly of it, "It's for when you're sick or hurting, and you need something to make you feel better."

"Oh. Did you have it last week, then?"

"We did," Dark nodded, "and that is why two thirds of us are already back at school and work."
 
Xander glanced at Milo. "You don't get it, but it's okay. I didn't either until the first time I had it," he assured him. "I thought it was all overblown nonsense, but it's not. And I swear it's got some kind of healing properties." He raised his fork to draw attention to his food. "This stuff's pretty good, though. No healing properties, just good food."

Alec nodded. "Very good food!"
 
Milo also agreed the food was good, and more or less watched this family talk for the rest of dinner, occasionally chiming in. It was so strange to watch. Even before his mother developed her problem, his parents divorced when he was little, so he had never... had this. A whole family just having a nice dinner, on a Tuesday, not a holiday. But they were all just. Happy, and talkative, even the baby was included.

After dinner, Dark gave Ivy to her mother so he could help clear the table, and once everything was washed, he invited Milo out to the shed to show off his carnival, and Milo stayed there for a long time, very amazed by the meticulous little people and the way Dark had built things to even move.

"You could do stop motion with this," He mumbled to Xander, squatting to be eye level with the little wooden figures.
 
"That would be pretty awesome, but doesn't that require the figures to need some kind of," Xander moved his arm awkwardly, "movement ability? Otherwise, you'd need thousands of these little dudes. Did you find all the teachers?"
 
"He made the Ferris Wheel move," Milo replied, "and Alec in his wheel. I bet he could make figures that move, the principal figures." He looked closely at it, "There's the Art Teacher, he's doing caricatures. It must've been tough to draw a tiny little caricature like that. And look, that's Mrs. F! She just... looks like a teacher."

Dark said, sitting casually on the stool at his work bench, one hand putting pressure on his side, although he just looked more or less like he had his arms crossed. Never once had he regretted showing off his carnival.
 
"You've got a point there. Look, he even got the janitor," Xander said, pointing out the figure. "I'd pay a lot to get to go to a carnival like this one, eh? It's awesome. And there's a couple of our neighbors, oh, and there's our uncle. Cooger."
 
"I'm too afraid to go on carnival rides. I hear those stories about harnesses breaking and the riders going splat onto the ground, I don't trust rides put up and taken down in such a short period of time." Milo admitted, "I like this one a lot more, because nobody gets hurt on it."

"People have gotten hurt on it," Dark said, "but they are wooden people. They do not feel pain like we do. But it is a different sort of pain, a monkey's paw sort of pain."

"If your daughter grows up to like dolls, Sir, you're able to make her the coolest doll house out of all of her friends."

Dark raised one eyebrows: the kid was right. What a fun project that would be, he'd be able to build all of the little furniture and design the house to be exactly what she wanted. No other child in all the world would have one like it.
 
"True. That'd be one rad dollhouse," Xander agreed. "And I get the fear, but if this were a real carnival, stuff like that would never happen here." He indicated the tiny fortuneteller's tent. "Instead, you might risk getting cursed if you were a rude jerk. Or tried to steal from the carnies." He smirked. "Now that's a cool power."
 
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