The Fidget Spinner [Boo Heavenshield]

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Northmark
New Himmeldal

[member="Boo Heavenshield"]

He could sense him, he was in the grand hall somewhere but there was no physical sign of his son. The morning had passed in a long meeting with the prominent families of the Northmark, the trading routes had been established and the rivers open to transporting goods to all quarters of Midvinter. There was a large shipment of lumber prepared to head south the Thainbroek, and beyond that to the Southmark. The boats would return heavy laden with fish and metal wear, cloth and grain and anything else required for life in these parts. Winter was coming.

Over on the far wall was the pile of dried logs ready for the hearth and Théo gathered one to place in the central fire to keep the embers smoldering. A head poked out of the wood and mewed, Azi in there hunting something but keeping warm with the heat which she liked the most. Théo grinned, giving her a gently scratch under her chin, if serpents have chins? either way she liked it. But wherever Azi is, Boo is not far away.

"Boo?", came the booming voice of Théo, deep and resonated around the large Hall. Théo had the rest of the day spare to spend with his son, doing whatever he wanted. These were precious times, duty would always take up a good part of his day but not today besides after the battle in the south, time spent with Boo was treasured. He was simply glad everyone had survived it. Mending the pain of the battle would come with time.

"Where are you son?". Théo's eyes narrowed as his gaze raised to the upper levels of New Himmeldal, there was a scuttling sound, and a thud before everything went silent.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f52mI1YHp-k​

​

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

The ground is 10 meters below. There was no net. No line. No safeguard connecting the young Pantoran to anything. He was falling. A disembodied sensation that combined vertigo and weightlessness taking hold, as panic and a dawning sense of his own mortality played at the edges of the boy's mind.

Tucking into a backflip, the boy performed a rotation in the air. Planing his body out, the child's arms were outstretched. The wooden crossbeam seemed to rush up at him. Grabbing hold of the beam, the youngling nimbly vaulted under and over, until he was balancing on one hand at the top of the wooden support beam with his legs pointed upward.

He allowed gravity to add momentum as his legs came downward. His upper body sprang upward, as his feet touched down and the boy's fulcrum of weight was re-balanced. He cartwheeled into a whirlwind kick, transitioned into a roundhouse kick and then did a serious of chi blocks with his arms.

The Force surged, as the boy leapt backward with inhuman power and grace. Backflipping twice, he neatly landed on the support beam that was several meters apart. His struck out to the right, maintaining his balance in a line as he stood on the beam with the balls of his feet, then shifted to the left.

A cartwheel became another attack as the child practiced the art of war known as Teräs Käsi. It was, perhaps, as ancient and timeless as the religion of the Primeval. It's instruction instilled in him by the Knights of Ren and refined by the Exemplars of the Burning Sun.

Another series of arm and body movements, as the boy transitioned from chi blocks into strikes in a rapid succession that ended with the child in a crane-like posture, one knee raised, arms arrayed out, as he balanced on one foot.

The high construction and open ceiling beams of the home made the rafters an inviting playground for the acrobatic Pantoran. Below, in the main hall, the youngling heard his name echo up and saw [member="Théodred Heavenshield"] there.

Falling foward, the child tucked into a spiral in mid-air. Bounding off of one of the columns, the boy crossed the space of the room in the air. A featherpush aimed at the floor helped to slow his descent, before the child flipped upright and landed on the wooden table with a thunderous BANG.

Perched in a three-point crouch, the breathless youngling looked over at Ser Scruffy and declared, "Got you!"

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

He looked up, into the rafters and high beams to see his son vaulting from the upper level railing. Théo raised his hand to his mouth, stifling an sigh of resignation and a grin, if he was honest with himself. What is that about karma? what goes around comes around or something like that, as he remembered all the silly stuff he had put his own parents through as a child. And now Théo understood their worry about the safety of a child, their children and yet it pleased him greatly because more and more Boo was become a child again, it would never be a completed journey but to see him at play was a great gift.

As he landed on the table with a thud, the plates and mugs set out for lunch jumped into the air only to land in a scattered mess and the cook would not be pleased. Théo had to admit Boo looked very graceful in his application of his skills and was curious about the move he was displaying, some form of martial art maybe and it was not one he recognised. Théo was good in a fist fight, boxing yes, but martial arts was not his thing, he was too big and bulky for it. At least that is what Théo imagined.

"You are going to give me a heartattack", he said eyeing off the high beams from which Boo had landed from. At least they were strong and in no fear of collapsing. "And I think you have just added to your chores, when we need to change the clan banners, I shall call on you". He nodded up to the hanging cloths of the clan sigils.

Théo pulled off his fur cloak as the Hall was growing much warmer as the hearth fire bit into the log he had placed. "What's it called those moves you did?, the combat style you used".

[member="Boo Heavenshield"]

 

[Micah tol Powl]

The youngling waited until Théo had turned his back.

In that moment, when Ser Scruffy had glanced away to set his cloak aside, the boy pounced. Springing from off the table, the Pantoran landed on Théo's back, his arms resting on Théo's shoulders as his legs moved to wrap around the man's torso.

"What?" the boy inquired curiously, not sure just what Théo meant by the question. He was supposed to be bombad Mastah Jedi. Didn't they learn about this stuff? "Teräs Käsi? The Knights of Ren learn about it. I think the Praetorian Guard practices it," the youth recounted simply, recalling aloud his time on Dosuum and the Academy on Skye where the Knights of Ren had institutionalized younglings into badawan learners.

"There's different schools and styles and stuff," Boo said, even as he tried to recall much of what they were. They had all started blending together. What Tyodin had taught him. What he'd picked up from some of the Antarian Rangers. And a couple of things he'd just figured out for himself on Elrood. "The Primeval did it differently than the First Order," he explained.

As for what it was called..?

"My style is whatever works."

[member="Théodred Heavenshield"]​

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

He felt the weight of the boy on his back, he had a tight enough grip so not to fall of Théo, who simply went about the place with the added appendage which he enjoyed to himself. "Ah", he simply said, "Knights of Ren", he repeated. Théo had not had much to do with them save for meeting one which sent his mind back a few years now to a girl who he liked very much and she had liked him. But she had decided to walk down the path to destruction, to allow herself to be swallowed entirely by the dark side of the force, and he had lost contact with her. He hoped she was doing okay though.

"I like your style", he changed the mood of his thoughts, back to the present. He bent over to pick up one of the mugs that had gone flying from Boo's landing on the table, his son hanging over his shoulder facing the ground before Théo straightened up once more, and repeating for the next mug or plate. "But do you have to launch off the high beams?", he chuckled, but deep down was pleased Boo liked his new home and having fun in it.

All of a sudden Théo turned on the spot and walked with pace toward the main front doors, on this way he unbuckled his belt that held his scabbard in which rested his sword and with the use of the force directed it to a hook on the far wall. Once he reached the doors which Boo still attached to his back, he began a run right up the center of the main Hall headed directly toward the long central hearth.

"Grip tight Boo", he warned him just as the force pushed into his legs and Théo launched off the wooden floors straight up into the high beams, did a back flip over it and the main hearth below which seemed to have them both hang in the air for a moment, before they both landed in a force cushion to the floor, there was not even a thud from the man with quite considerable bulk.

"I call it the 'Heavenshield Hang'", Théo grinned from ear to ear, he made the whole thing up on the spot.



[member="Boo Heavenshield"]