[The Welcome Home] A Home for Hopstop (Stitch)

[Hadrian]

Late Summer, 510 A.V. It was afternoon when Hadrian stepped up to the Welcome Home with a gift in his satchel, the pale stone of the building radiating summer heat back at him. Truth be told, he wished he could just drop his gift on the porch, but without an explanation, they would not understand the full range of Hopstop's abilities, which were meager, but perhaps good enough for a band of orphans. Children were able to love just about anything and anyone, unless they were odd children such as Hadrian had been. He knocked and waited for the door to be answered, hoping it was nap time so he would not have to deal with any children, but with whomever ran the establishment. It wasn't that he was a terrible grinch, but he wasn't quite sure how to deal with children and so he preferred to avoid them. Perhaps it was the delicacy of his work, which a child would destroy, little whirlwinds of chaos that they were. Perhaps it was just that he had yet to grow up himself in many ways, pretending maturity to escape home, but hiding emotional immaturity underneath it all.

[Stitch]

At first, silence was all that met his knock, and the Enchanter might start to wonder if there was actually anyone home. It was only after a few more moments of this rather odd silence (at least for an orphanage), and perhaps several knocks later, that a sign he had been heard was actually given.

"Stiiiiiiiiiitch! There is someone at the doooooooooor!"

It was a rather shrill, female kind of scream, and it came from deep within the house. Directly after the yell, Hadrian might be able to make out a few more muffled yells from a few different people, but they were all occuring at once. Something about baking, and answering the door, and not answering the door, and going to see who it was, and all sorts of jumbled stuff. The arguing seemed to be coming closer to the door though, so Hadrian might understand that he was getting somewhere. Slowly, and in a somewhat comical manner, but he was certainly getting there. Eventually all of the arguing died off, and Hadrian's knock was answered by a single voice. "Sorry, sorry. This one will be right there, milord!" It sounded like the voice was stumbling toward the door. What could make someone so awkward in completing such a simple task?

The door was soon flung open, and Hadrian met Stitch. The orphanage owner was a strange sight, much more than normal. He was blind, first of all. The white medical wrap was snugly in place, wound firmly around his hide, hiding his wounded eyes from sight. He had a smile on his face, much like normal, the overly loving grin aimed directly at Hadrian. It was odd for a stranger to recieve such a loving smile. It was almost like Stitch was looking upon an old friend. The oddities didn't stop there, though. Stitch's face was smeared in a variety of ingridents, the dominant one appearing to be some form of chocolate. A white chef had sat slouched on his head, while a white apron with pink frills was wrapped around his tall, fit figure. He held a bowl of some chocolate mixture in his arm, and was hurriedly stirring it with a wooden spoon.

Seemingly unaware of how awkwardly silly he looked, Stitch stood there, beaming at Hadrian. "Hello milord! How might this one help you? Would you like to come in? There shall be cake in a few minutes, this one thinks!" Stitch nodded toward the bowl, chuckling lightly.

[Hadrian]

The sounds of children caused a reflexive reaction in Hadrian, and he tensed as if preparing for a battle. One child, preferably intelligent and curious about books, was one thing, but an army was quite another. The door opened and the man who answered looked as though he were recently escaped from a kitchen battle, and had the children taken his eyes? Hadrian had intended to offer toys at the door and then leave, but suddenly he was being ushered inside and didn't have the presence of mind to talk his way out of it. "Oh, er, all right, um... I'm not a lord." Of course, many people were called 'sir' who had no claim to knighthood either. "Hadrian's my name. Hadrian Aelius." Once over the threshold, he was further discombobulated, looking around the new place, desperately trying to synthesize all this new sensory information into a workable whole that he might feel more secure there. "I, ah, brought some things for the children. Toys, that is. Ah..."

[Stitch]

Stitch followed the man into the Welcome Home, a small smile on his face. He was closely studying the man's Aura, and it reeked of a panicked kind of confusion. Stitch got some kind of odd, perhaps twisted kick out of it. He wasn't so sure why the man thought everything was so odd and confusing, but the sight made him chuckle a bit. People always seemed to be taken off guard by the Welcome Home, but they soon warmed up to it. Stitch wasn't so sure why they were taken off guard in the first place.

It was a pretty normal kind of place, Stitch thought.

"Hadrian, eh? Nice to meet you, milord." Stitch chuckled out loud again, giving the man a hearty slap on the shoulder. Stitch did it intentionly, now having a bit too much fun with the obviously befuddled man. The slap was intended to rock the young lad, perhaps knock him forward a few steps. Stitch had a bit of an arm on him, it appeared. After the solid pat, Stitch stepped by Hadrian, crossing the small little room to sit at a desk on the other end. It was a small, blue walled room, with several hand-drawn pictures decorating the brightly colored walls. A few chairs were littered about the area, matching the small little desk. The desk only contained a ink bottle, a single piece of paper, and a rather large bowl of various candies. Stitch, now seated behind the desk, took a moment to study the man in front of him. Dipping into his Djed, Stitch let a little more flow to his eyes, increasing the details his Auristic vision revealed to him.

The Aura was a myriad of swirling purples, blues, and silvers. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and almost looked like a mystical smoke, emitting from every pore of the human. It swirled upwards in delicate patterns, the different smoky strands of color entwining lovingly amongst each other. It was rather breathtaking, and Stitch found himself dreamily admiring it. For some reason, he found it hard to understand. Something about it seemed... complex. He wasn't so sure how to put it into words, but there was an artful complexity to the Aura that went beyond his realm of comprehension. No matter. It was still quite a pretty Aura.

Stitch smiled brightly at the man, once again firing that disarming grin toward the Enchanter. He had now forgotten about his little game of earlier, and was quickly growing to like Hadrian. That blossoming affection only bloomed more as the man revealed his intentions, talking about donating toys. Stitch stood suddenly, his head lightly turning to the satchel Hadrian held, a somewhat stricken look crossing his face. "This one didn't even notice you had a burden to carry, milord. Might this one help? This one is very happy you are donating for the children, and is quite sure the children will be pleased. This one apologizes for his rudeness." The blind man scurried from behind his desk, and toward Hadrian, gingerly outstretching his hands if the man indeed would like the help. It was almost comical, actually. The stricken look on Stitch's face was a bit overkill, considering that the satchel wasn't actually that big.

The rowdy children could still be heard, arguing somewhere deep within the house, yelping and shouting at each other. Stitch seemed oddly oblivious to them. It would make sense though. He would have to be able to tune them out, in order to survive in a sane way.

[Hadrian]

"But I'm not a lord," he said again, soft and confused. In general, he tended to avoid people like this one, not because he didn't like them, per se, but because their energy and generosity of spirit just made him uncomfortable. It wasn't something he could articulate, nor something of which he was particularly proud. He assumed his social awkwardness was his fault somehow, and left it at that. Nearly knocked over, he was ushered inside and into a small room. His senses were glutted with colors and shapes and sounds and smells. He could almost taste the chocolate in the air, among the other ingredients to whatever this one was preparing to bake. He did manage to observe that this one walked as if he could see, and looked at him through that strip of white gauze as if it wasn't there. But was that a keen use of echolocation and a good memory and acting skills or was this one also an aurist. Hadrian's own skills in that regard remained meager, but he blinked a few times, until his own Vision came back. What he saw surprised him, but put him a bit more at ease. The pattern seemed to throb along with his heartbeat, pulsing energy out into the world. Indeed, his heart center seemed highly developed, complex and powerful. The colors, as was generally the case with sentient beings, were beautiful and shifting, but he put off so much blue to Hadrian's eyes, a blue that called to mind memories of his mother that he hadn't held in his hands for years and years. And now she was dead. There was not so much pain anymore. She died in the summer and he remained in order to help his family, he supposed, for a little while longer. The course of his sadness had been etched like tears through him. It was strange and perhaps cold, but he hadn't thought it would effect him so deeply, but he had also imagined it as some abstract thing of the future and now it was already the past. He carefully and regretfully blinked away the augmented vision and attempted a brave smile. This one's eyes had been strange in Hadrian's Vision: the pattern made up of sharp contrasts, the dark parts being physical blindness and the bright parts being a skill with auristics, or at least that was Hadrian's reading. He could be wrong. He often was. "They're really not heavy," he assured him, digging Hopstop out of his bag and handing it over. The little frog golem was made of metal and wood, springs and the like. The touch of his hands brought the hind legs to mindless life. "Careful of the legs. He reacts to touch, just jumping around aimlessly. To make him stop, you just say his name three times: Hopstop, Hopstop, Hopstop. And he stops dutifully until the next person touches him. I thought the children might like that."

[Stitch]

Stitch had paused as he stood up, suddenly realizing he had set the bowl of chocolate cake batter down. He hadn't remembered setting it down, and quickly casting his Auristic vision around, he saw it teetering on the corner of the desk. In a somewhat comical fashion, Stitch quickly lept toward the batter, moving around the desk in a hurried blur and snatching the shivering bowl up. Letting loose a soft breath of relief, he wrapped both arms around the bowl, making sure to hold it tight. When had he set it down? He didn't remember putting it there. He must be getting old.

He felt the man's prying eyes, and turned his head slightly, the smile falling from his face. The man wasn't just looking at him now. What was he doing? Suddenly stilling and not moving an inch, he allowed the man to study him, once again casting his own judging eye over the enchanter. A vein throbbed slightly in his forehead as he focused deeper, drawing once more on his precious well of Djed. He was looking for the small, thin, shivering threads that spoke of where the man's focus was directed, and he barely managed to make it out. Hadrian's attention had been there for a bit now, and the enchanter wasn't making any effort to hide it. The man was looking at his...

He is looking at my Aura.

The thought struck Stitch, and his thoughts paused for a second, the blind man rendered a bit shocked. He had never really met any one with his abilities before, and now he was finding what it was like to be on the receiving end of the scrutiny. For a moment, he felt scared and ashamed, wondering if there was anything ugly about him that the man might be able to see. Part of him felt violated, but he was guilty in feeling so. The man was doing the exact same thing that Stitch did, and was probably doing it because he had figured out Stitch was doing so. Stitch swallowed back his uncomfortable emotions, once more returning the smile to his face. He had nothing to hide.

A pang of sadness echoed in Hadrian's Aura, and Stitch cocked his head toward him, wondering if he should ask about it. Deciding against it, he instead remained quiet as his guest stepped forward, pulling out the toy. He started a bit as the legs of the little frog started to move, the grin on Stitch's face widening to one of delight. Hadrian explained it further, and Stitch chuckled, watching as the frog paused it's movement. Amazing! "Did you make it yourself, milord? It is quite amazing! Can't this one offer you some money, or some other favor? The children are sure to love it, but this one is sure it was no small feat to create."

Stitch paused, wondering if he should ask his other question. Why not? The man had openly used the skill when he knew Stitch also could use it, and likely would assume that Stitch was now informed of his magic. "Does milord also happen to practice Auristics? This one hasn't ever met anyone else who could also... see." Stitch struggled with the words, not quite sure how to say them. Stitch was a special case, and he used Auristics to operate in a semi-normal way. For him, it was a method of sight. What was it to the other man?

[Hadrian]

Hadrian was a bit slower on the uptake where Auristics was concerned than Stitch himself, but finally there was a moment where they became aware of each other Looking at each other simultaneously. It was a strange shock, and he nearly lost his tenuous connection with that otherworldly Sight, but managed to keep it up after a short period of guttering, flickering lights in his Vision. That moment of clarity made Stitch's aura crystallize in Hadrian's Vision, as if his attention and intensity gave away as much of Stitch as it revealed of Hadrian. Recognition. Perhaps there was some sort of mirror effect. He would have to ask Azilis or her father the professor when he returned to Zeltiva, or Stitch himself if they became intimates, though he wasn't sure how likely that was given his plans for leaving Syliras behind again as soon as he was able. But when the shared moment was glossed over, Hadrian was only too happy to go along with it. Speaking of his work generally either clammed him up or set him off to being verbose. Given the uncomfortable realization, he was only too happy to speak. "It was actually a collaboration, but I was given Hopstop, and after studying him, I thought he might rather be in the company of young people who would love him and delight in him." He actually wondered now if Hopstop was a him, if the frog had been a him, if that soul had been male, or if souls even had gender. Likely not, though Hadrian wondered if he had been male or female last time, and what he would be next. "I have..." But Stitch interrupted his introduction to the next toy with his question. Hadrian paused, swallowed, and nodded. "As if through a glass darkly," he said quietly, "but I do See."

[Stitch]

Stitch paused, his cheeks flaring a light red, a blush flooding across his face as he realized he had interrupted the Enchanter. He hurriedly apologized, the words spilling out over his lips in a somewhat awkward fashion. "This one is sorry milord, this one didn't mean to interrupt you." Stitch was wringing his hands, a worried look on his face, a far cry from the confident and outgoing man of before. It appeared the blind orphanage owner put a lot into his manners, and the way he spoke was evidence of such. He always referred to himself in the third person as sort of a humbling exercise; something his former step-father had taught him from quite a young age. "This one was just so excited to meet someone else who also sees as this one sees; well, you know, to a short degree."

Stitch paused again, taking a breath from his hurried speech, his head tilting at Hadrian. His ears were blushing a light shade of red now too, and his next words were hesitant and bashful. "...This one can't help to be curious though..." He held out his hands and gently took the toy, but his ever-so-changing attention was already far away from the amazing little object. "...How does the world look to you?" Stitch tilted his head down at the little frog golem, and Hadrian would likely be aware of the mystical sight leaving him. Stitch instead explored the little toy, touching it in various locations, his curiosity returning once more. He was puzzled on how it worked, but he didn't want to bother the man with that many questions. He already knew he was about to attack the enchanter with a few dozen anyways.

"Is it all in colors? Do all of the colors look different? Or do the Auristics work differently for whoever uses it? This one learned just before this one went blind, but this one doesn't remember much about how the world was back then. It is hard, when you have lived like this for awhile." Stitch droned off for a short moment, his attention slipping somewhere into the past. He recalled memories for just a split second, but then forced himself back into the real world. He didn't want to live with those memories. He continued on, explaining a bit about himself for a reason he didn't understand. He felt as if he had a connection with the man. Even if it was simply magical.

"This one's sight is probably different, this one supposes. Since you have actual sight, this one means. Perhaps the reason you look through a blurry glass is because you have the real world over top the Auristic world? The world went completely black when this one went blind, but eventually, some color returned. It returned rather suddenly, just amazingly bright colors with no real definition. This one understands that we can see through smell and sound, as well? Whatever the case, only after time passed, did the brightness die down. This one can now turn it off and on at will, make out definition to things, and also see more than most. Have you experienced this, or are you not there yet?"

Stitch took a breath, tilting his head up at Hadrian. He hoped he wasn't being too confusing. "Like, this one can see you are a bit uncomfortable around this one. Or perhaps not this one, but this place? Emotions like that are fairly easy to see, especially since you make no effort to hide them. Just a few moments ago, milord was sad. This one hopes that this one did not make you sad." He offered the man a warm smile, trying not to let the conversation get too awkward.

[Hadrian]

Stitch's manner set Hadrian's nerves on alert, but to be fair, that wasn't difficult to accomplish. Anyone with Auristics frightened him, even trusted friends such as Azilis, because ... what did they see? Could they see his weaknesses? His faults? Were they measuring him and finding him wanting? Still, this was an opportunity to learn, as well. Knowing his own skills to be limited, he assumed that others' were superior. "I, ah... I see colors and... Well, they aren't quite colors but that's how I think of them. It's supposedly different for everyone, or has the potential to be different because we all think differently... though similarities can be accounted for due to the socialization we receive as children, training us to think in the same vein as all the others, but..." He stopped, not wanting to go too far on academic tangents. "The way I understand it, most Aurists describe it in terms of colors because that is the closest vocabulary we have... one sight for another Sight. If we were all blind but for this... I suppose we would have more individuated adjectives for it. But... I have sort of noted color harmonies that... sort of seem like sound, but that might just be my mind's way of interpreting the information. Sometimes energies even seem to have a taste... "And oh... don't worry. It takes me a while to warm up to new people and places, I guess. Oh, there's... there's another golem for your children..." He started digging in his satchel.

[Stitch]

Hadrian was met with raptured silence as the blind man intently listened, soaking up every word the Enchanter had to offer. Hadrian might be keenly aware that Stitch was horribly uninformed about the very magic he used to see, and that the blind man saw this as an opportunity to learn more about what it was that he so skillfully wielded. When Stitch had spoken about his skill earlier, it had been talked about in a hesitant, almost bashful tone. Hadrian might get the sudden feeling that he was being looked up to, almost as a mentor. The way Stitch was cocking his head at the Enchanter, the way the orphanage owner had his mouth hanging open just slightly... He was like a little boy, hanging on every word his idol said. He quickly nodded at each of Hadrian's statements, expressing his agreement and understanding.

"It is the same way for this one, milord. In a way. This one mostly sees all these colors, but they are forever moving, in and of themselves. Your aura stands still, but inside, it is a whirlwind of magic and knowledge. You are complex, yet seemingly simple, almost. That is what this one thinks, and the feeling this one gets. You describe it well when you speak of a taste. This one tastes the world on his tongue, and feels it in his stomach. This one hears it blaring in his ears, and if what you say is true, then it is all of those sensations combined that make the sights this one sees." Stitch paused, raising a hand to his eye bandages, rubbing them softly. "This one often wonders if some sight is still left, but if the colors from all the auras just block it out, in a way. This one sees everything so clearly, for just having sound, taste, smell, and touch. You would think sight would be needed, too." The blind man sighed a bit, not at his blindness, but at his lack of knowledge.

Stitch shot up his head, his hand falling to his side, a small grin creeping onto his lips. It was a horribly sly grin, like a prankster who had just thought of the perfect joke. "Milord needs some help warming up to this one? This one will be right back. This one needs to give this dirty dish to the children, check up on them, and make sure they haven't destroyed anything. This one will be right back. Please get out your toy, don't let my short departure slow you."

The blind orphanage owner vanished deeper into the house, taking the bowl of chocolate mixture with him, letting out a low chuckle. It was only a few moments before he returned, two bowls in his arms, a grin on his face. He was quiet, setting one bowl on the desk, and crossing over to Hadrian to check out the new toy he was soon to show. It was slightly odd, as the blind man hadn't taken any time at all to "check on the children", or whatever he had said. There was definitely something up here, but what was it?