next one: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/1269879571/ Splitting this up between two parts because it's too long to put into the instructions and notes and credits boxes. Internally sobbing because this wasn't taken well by my classmates and i really need to share it. Just a loving bird father being accepting of his transgender daughter because i needed it. sighhs click for quick sketches of their looks here it is: Parsley was only mildly concerned when Abbot didn’t show up for dinner. Usually, he didn’t bat an eye if he decided he didn’t want to eat- Abbot was a fourteen-year-old who know if he was hungry or not. But he’d been skipping out much more often lately, and had even skipped breakfast this morning. Abbot probably just had too big of a snack when he got home and was too full to eat. It wasn’t like Parsley could ask him though, as Abbot always seemed to be stuffed in his room doing homework or messing with flowers. Well, he didn’t actually know what Abbot did in there anymore; he didn’t seem to talk to his brothers or father much at all now. Parsley brushed it off as a likely breakup or just general teenage angst. He was much like that at Abbot’s age. “How were you boys’ days?” He asked Dër and Paige, remembering that he had other children that need his attention. He didn’t want to neglect any of them like he had back when his wife died. Paige perked up and told his father about a girl in their class whose cheetah spots starting appearing and darkening throughout the day. He was so energetic as talked, gesticulating wildly and almost smacking Dër in the face. The black-haired took a playful swipe back at Paige, and the boys giggled. Parsley was glad Dër was more comfortable with everyone now than when he first showed up almost a year ago. “I can’t wait until I get my wings!” Paige exclaimed. Parsley knew how much Paige was looking forward to finally growing his full plumage, and how disappointed he was that he still only had the black ring of unruly baby down around his neck- even if he didn’t like showing it. Abbot’s wings had poked out when he was nine- a year and a half younger than where Paige was currently- and Paige had always expected that he’d get his wings then as well. The poor kid was a late bloomer, it seemed. He remembered waking up in the middle of the night a few weeks ago and deciding to go for a walk through the forest, but stopping when he found Paige crying in the living room. All he wanted was his wings, and they refused to come in. Parsley told Paige that he was starting to show signs of his wings coming in- which was a lie he didn’t feel great about, but at least soothed him. Besides, signs only started showing a few days before wings came in. He just hoped it was soon. It was painful seeing his son so dejected. Dër passionately assured Paige that his wings would be “fuzzy and glorious” with his fist pumping in the air. Parsley couldn’t help an endeared chuckle. Dër then began excitedly rambling about how the school was starting Special days in the cafeteria. Special day would apparently happen once a month, starting with this month, where they would serve an uncommon dish for the students to try. Dër described what sounded like some kind of Asian noodles and chicken dish, with Paige jumping in to add that the teriyaki sauce was delicious. “It was the best food I ever had, Parsley!” Parsley always loved watching the eight (Dër insisted he should be called a nine-year-old, as his birthday was only a month away)-year-old’s eyes light up- it meant that he was doing well making Dër comfortable about letting his guard down after years of being stuck with people who saw him as less-than. With the poor child being a Miscellaneous, he was always called horrid things and was always being returned by people who promised they’d take care of him. It’s why Dër ran away, and that’s how Parsley ran into the vampire. He always hated how that word made people think the wrong things. Dër wasn’t a fairytale vampire, just something with traits and needs that resembled one. He was the sweetest boy Parsley had ever met, and it hurt to think that he spent eight years of his life having to deal with misconceptions people made up about him while also having to take care of himself. Parsley had sworn that Dër would not have to go through anything like that again if he had any say about it.
“That’s lovely, you two!” Parsley smiled. My boys are so wonderful. “Sounds tasty. Did Abbot like it? Or did he stick to a burger like most days?” “Oh, Abbot didn’t eat anything,” Dër stated casually. “What?” Paige corroborated with, “Yeah, he just sat the whole time, doodling or something.” That wasn’t normal. Mildly concerned had gone to seriously concerned. “Did he eat when you guys got home?” The boys shook their heads. Parsley excused himself early. Dër asked if Abbot was in trouble. Parsley assured him he wasn’t. He gave them both a kiss on the head and went over to Abbot’s room. He knocked gently on the door. “Hey buddy, you alright in there?” Parsley was responded with a weak, muffled “Yeah”. He paused. “I heard you haven’t eaten all day,” He continued. “Wanna tell me what that’s all about?” He heard a quiet “No” from inside. “Hm. Well, that’s okay. You don’t have to right now.” Parsley thought for a moment longer, then asked if it was alright to come inside. He didn’t get an answer. “Abbot, honey, can I come inside or not?” He repeated. “Y-Yeah, okay.” It sounded broken. What had changed? Parsley slowly opened the door, trying not to make too much noise or move too fast. It was dark inside, but the light from the hallway illuminated a few details: There were wilted flowers on his desk (that was odd, Abbot didn’t usually pick flowers to let them die, he picked flowers to do something with them), his room was messy, his flower journal was on the ground with a few torn out pages scattered around it, and Abbot was curled up on the floor against his bed with his back against the wall. He was holding a grey, wilted flower and was rubbing his thumb and finger over the petals, watching the grey flakes fall to the floor. On closer inspection, there seemed to be a lot of grey flakes on the floor of Abbot’s room. “Hey, bud,” Parsley murmured, shutting the door and slowly approaching Abbot. He’d learned, from taking Dër in, how to project your movements as not to startle and to give whoever you’re trying to talk to some time to stop you if they needed to. Parsley tried to make sure he was doing everything right like that first time. Abbot’s face was obscured in the reestablished darkness, but the occasional sniffle told him everything he needed. “So what’s bugging ya’, huh?” He spoke up after a few moments of sitting silently next to Abbot.
