Chapter Text
He had expected nothing, yet the manor surprised him in nearly every way: a killing game in which nobody seemed to take things too seriously; the killers themselves, who were friendly and more than willing to offer a hand at any moment; the victims, who often cracked jokes or found it in themselves to be obnoxious whilst fighting for their lives; the list went on. Ithaqua was the newest in the hunter’s manor, and often found it difficult to mingle with the others when not in a match. He didn’t know any of the hunters well; he hadn’t been there long enough to have many things to talk about, and he certainly didn’t want to discuss his past. Most of the hunters had been there long enough that they divided their stories into before the manor and at the manor. It made Ithaqua wonder if this was where he would be until the end of time.
Ithaqua never would have considered himself antisocial, but he supposed that since he had lived in near isolation his entire childhood, he’d never had a reference point prior to coming to the manor. He did not feel a draw to sit and chit-chat with the other hunters all day long, but he couldn’t deny that after a few weeks, he’d become rather lonely. It made his chest ache to see the others laugh and talk with their friends, strangers to the emotions that clawed at him. He was younger than the adults, and felt too different to be comfortable trying to join their conversations. They had had so many experiences he did not; relationships, jobs, children. He felt as though he had nothing to connect with.
That, of course, left the two children. He was a good deal older than Robbie and Yima — there was perhaps a decade between them and himself, if he had to guess — and their interests varied as a result. Robbie had taken to following him around as of late, begging Ithaqua to participate in his games or to lift him up on his shoulders. More often than not, Ithaqua gave in; he didn’t know how he would ever tell Robbie no. His shrieking laughter, while hurting his ears, did make Ithaqua feel happy.
“Ithaqua! Look, look!” Robbie shouted as he ran towards the chair Ithaqua had settled in to read for a bit.
“What is it?”
“Look!” Robbie held up two large sticks. “I’m gonna have stilts, just like you! I’ll be taller than everyone!”
“For sure,” Ithaqua agreed. “Are you sure those are strong enough? They look a little thin.”
“They’ll be fine! Uncle Luchino always tells me I weigh less than a feather.” Plopping down on the floor in front of the chair, Robbie pulled a roll of twine from his pocket. He began to fasten the sticks to his calves, but Ithaqua stopped him.
“You need something to stand on. See how I have these?” He pointed to the supports on his own stilts, and Robbie nodded. “If you don’t have those, you’ll fall.”
“Oh.” Robbie looked over his sticks, and flipped one around. “I can stand on that!” He pointed to a small branch that jutted out from the main piece, and then set to work once again. Ithaqua wanted to discourage him, but he knew Robbie wasn’t one to give up easily. If he continued, he’d find himself roped into crafting a pair of stilts for Robbie. Maybe he ought to just do that, to avoid any chances of Robbie getting needless injuries from the sticks scratching at his legs.
“Done! Help me up!” Robbie said, reaching his hands up towards Ithaqua. Ithaqua lifted Robbie into the air, grimacing at how the makeshift stilts wobbled. He could tell they would snap the moment he let Robbie’s full weight rest on them.
“You know, Robbie, why don’t you just let me make some stilts for you? I don’t think these will work. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t get hurt!” Robbie assured him. “But okay! Will you make them look just like yours? Yours are so cool!”
“Sure.” Ithaqua set Robbie back down, relieved once the stilts had been removed and cast aside. “What was that man’s name? The one with the lab?”
“Grandpa Burke?”
“Yes, him. Do you know his last name?”
“Um… Lapadura!” Robbie said after a moment of deliberation.
“Alright. Thank you. I’ll go see if he has anything I can use.” Ithaqua left the room, going down the stairs several steps at a time.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he knocked on the door to Burke’s lab. It was only a few seconds before it opened.
“What are you lot bothering me for this time? Oh, it’s you.” Ithaqua’s insides writhed as Burke stared him down.
“Mister Lapadura. I, ah, wanted to ask if I could use some of your tools to make stilts for Robbie.”
“ Mister Lapadura, ” Burke echoed with a mocking tone. “You make me sound old. I’m fairly certain the photographer is older than I am. At least you don’t call me grandpa like Robbie does.” Burke sighed, shaking his head. “As for your request — I don’t know what you need, but I suppose you can use my lab to work. However, you aren’t allowed to touch anything of mine without asking. If you do, you’ll never set foot in here again, understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Just call me Burke, please.” Ithaqua nodded as he followed Burke into his lab, glancing around. Burke showed him a clean table he could work at, and Ithaqua quickly set to work.