GHANAIAN GOLD . private, cairo

  • SLOW CINNAMON SUMMER

    clove arcanium / ♀ / tags & information


    *:・゚✦ au setting: clove's babysitting for asimov and is trying to teach her lil nephew how to be a potter - idk if he has a AU name so I'll refer to him as cairo for this post but can change!


    "Got the hang of it yet?" Clove asked as she glanced over her shoulder, peering at the mass of clay that was on the potter's wheel in front of her nephew. The brunette hadn't particularly wanted to babysit for her half-brother considering what he'd likely use the time off for, but unlike him, most of his kids were relatively okay. And Cairo hadn't exactly been a bad child for the three hours he'd been under her care. He was even having a go at being a potter, just like his favourite auntie Clove, which she was particularly pleased about.


    Wiping her hands on the muddied cloth that sat beside her, Clove spun of the stool she was sat upon and made her way over to Cairo, peering down at the grey lump of something he'd created.


    "Don't think I'll let you near my gold-leaf yet." the 21 yr old remarked to herself, glancing across at the sheet of orders that lay discarded on her desk. 'Hae-ran Kintsugi' was the name of her business, which used the birth name she never went by. It wasn't as if she needed the money - her parent's life insurance and considerable savings had meant she'd never had any need for money.

    "Are you hungry? I think I've got some snacks you might like." Would he like pickled ginger? Or seaweed strips? Clove didn't know. She'd loved them during her own childhood, but maybe Cairo's tastes were different. Either way, she had plenty of potato chips in her cupboards. They'd go down well regardless.


    CAIRO. hope this works for u!!

    *:・゚✦ THE SWAN SANG

    WITH A BROKEN NECK *:・゚✦

    — roleplayed by Sunraign.  reference

  • - Being a teenage boy of nearly sixteen years, the idea of having a "babysitter" was, frankly, a little embarrassing. The fact that his baby sitter was his twenty-one year old aunt was a little helpful, because at least his caretaker wouldn't wind up being some senior in high school who Cairo had probably seen in the halls that day. The truth was Asimov (or dad, rather) could be kind of oblivious to certain facts--like that a fifteen year old boy didn't really need a babysitter, and probably could fend for his own while his single father went out to do God knows what for the night.


    However, upon second reflection, it made a smidgen more sense. Cairo had only been under Asimov's parental supervision for a few months, and probably didn't want to take any risks with him. Cairo had been on good behavior his entire time with Asimov as a father, and didn't have much of rebellious streak as to manifest in risky behavior, so he never saw the point. Cairo also considered that maybe Asimov was doing this as a demonstration to show how much he cared for the wellbeing of his "new son". While it was a nice idea to entertain, Cairo doubted the likelihood of such a thing.


    Cairo had grown up with a different single father in Newport Beach, California, who had a sort of hippy-dippy lifestyle that made sense nowhere but SoCal. He went by the (self-given, mind you) name of River Love, which is how you ended up with a white kid with the name Cairo. While it had resulted in some teasing, Cairo had no intentions of changing his name even though he now lived with Asimov. He continued to sign his worksheets in class as "Cairo Love" rather than "Cairo Asimov". Even his middle name, Aquarius, which he held despite being a Libra, wasn't something he planned to change. It was from the opening of the musical Hair, which Cairo himself had never seen, though he had assumed some of the music dad had played around the house must have been from the show. He had no way to prove that, but it was just sort of an assumed truth. Regardless, it provided some bit of conversation for the now awkward Cairo to have at school (he had never been much of an introvert, but the move away from Newport Beach had made Cairo significantly more withdrawn in recent weeks). Typically with the theater kid crowd, which had pushed him into auditioning for the school musical against his will.


    As he did all of this self-reflection, he had messed with clay on a potter's wheel. He'd added a bit too much water a few minutes ago, which meant the clay was still verging on a puddle. When his "auntie Clove" had spoken up to ask him a question, Cairo jumped a little bit. "Oh, uh," he started, glancing down at the mess beneath his hands. The truth was that he could do much better than what he was currently presenting, but the clay sculpting was mainly to keep his hands busy more than anything else. "I would say yeah," he joked, staring at his messy hands.


    His face grew a little hot at the mention of "snacks", though it was probably because this person had never raised a child of her own, and thus didn't know when that stopped being an embarrassing thing for other people, Cairo reasoned. Was he wrong? Who knew.


    "Uh, it's okay," he said, using a mostly clean thumb to brush his wine-colored hair (a physical characteristic he had gained from Asimov, he had learned) away from his eyes. "I'm not very hungry. But thanks."

  • SLOW CINNAMON SUMMER

    clove arcanium / ♀ / tags & information


    *:・゚✦ /aah woops assumed he was around 8 or so, sorry!


    "Alright." the woman shrugged, rising back up to her full height and dusting off her apron. If the kid didn't want to eat, well...at least she'd save money. He wasn't exactly making the atmosphere mellow though, and Clove was at a loss as to what to do next. She understood it had to be hard for him to move at his age - not young enough to start life anew, not old enough to hit the ground running - but being so mopey wasn't going to help things.


    "Want to get out of here for a bit?" came her next query, breaking the awkward silence that had resumed. Where they would go was another issue, since Clove only left her home for food and the occasional stroll along the beach. Or to deliver a set of pottery, which she hated doing since people usually came to collect, and it was a bother to go looking for where customers lived.


    /dead muse!!

    *:・゚✦ THE SWAN SANG

    WITH A BROKEN NECK *:・゚✦

    — roleplayed by Sunraign.  reference