Monika

Being Slade's only daughter gives Fallon a unique position. It's adorable to watch her curl up to him, and its no secret she gets special treatment. Right now, she's attempting to get the go ahead to leave the country. With Dion ruling and Azareal handling powers even Slade doesn't have. I think she's getting a little antsy to do something. Slade stares down at his newspaper, coffee mug floating in front of him. She smiles widely, and sits next to him, waving her hand to cool it down.

"Slade," She grins, scooting closer to him. He raises his brows, looks over at her, then at me. and then back to his paper.

"Yes?" He gruffs, turning the page.

"I was wondering...there's this ball happening in Moshoy, with a prince and a dance, and I was thinking...what if I went?"

Slade doesn't do much to stop his children from doing things they want. They're adults, he'll say with clear disapproval, demi-gods. They'll be fine. But when he doesn't approve of something, he gives this whithering look that none of them can seem to bear.

Fallon is on the end of that look now, his red eyes smoldering in dismay. I purse my lips and hide behind my own paper. I don't want to be dragged into this. Getting caught between father and daughter is an awkward situation and either way someone complains that I'm not being fair.

"You know I feel about royalty," he grumbles, bringing his cup to his lips.

"Dion is a king though, and besides it's not like I would actually marry the prince--"

The cup slams down on the table. I wince. She forgot to lie. Fallon's brain runs a mile a minute, it's why she's not a good liar. Sometimes she forgets which parts she's not supposed to say. The ball is for one of the Moshoy princes to find a wife. If she had omitted that part she might've been able to get by without a lecture.

The poor thing.

"Gods and royalty shouldn't mix," He begins, "It is always a bad idea. Not to mention, I can't have you fraternizing with Princes. Royalty are a depraved bunch, haven't I always told you that?"

"Well, yes, but I--"

"And a man at that! You'll be swept in palace politics, which means I'll ave to step in, which makes the balance an issue. Too much hassle. You can dance at home."

Fallon looks to me desperately. I pretend I can't see the puppy eyes. I do not want to get involved, especially not with this.

"But Slade! I'll be very careful!"

He scoffs. "You don't know the meaning of the word. I don't like it," he decrees with finality.

And that's that. Fallon could go, but the odds of it turning out well are slim to none. When you go against a god's verbal disapproval, bad luck seems to follow. All of them have learned that the hard way. What they don't seem to learn, however, is to not ask for approval to start. Easier to get forgiveness than permission, after all, especially with Slade.

"Monika?" She asked softly.

Slade looks up at me and infinitesimally shakes his head, looking back down at his paper. I sigh and offer her a helpless shrug.

Fallon rolls her eyes, and pulls out the last thing she has: Tears.

She erupts into sobs, and Slade drops his paper, his lack of focus making the mug drop from the air and taint the newspaper brown with its contents.

"Fallon you know I very much dislike that noise," He says hesitantly. "Stop crying. Please stop crying."

Resolve bleeds from his eyes, as he pats her back awkwardly, pulling her into a hug. He sighs heavily.

"Alright. Alright. I'll give you my blessing. Cease these tears now, little one." He sighs, breaking down and succeeding. He strokes her hair and rests his head on hers.

"Thank you, Dad," She whispers, leaning further into his chest. He heaves a defeated sigh but doesn't argue anymore.

Then, content, she bounces away, no doubt deciding what she'll wear. He groans, sweeping away the mug and paper. I hand him mine with an encouraging smile.

"I'm a sucker," He grumbles, "She does this every time and I fall for it...every time."

I just chuckle and kiss his head. It's not his fault he's weak to his children, especially his only daughter. She was the youngest for years. The youngest is always a little spoiled.

"It's just sudden, startling, desperately sad noise. And her little face." He sighs., rubbing his temples. "Maybe I'm getting too old for this. You'd think for a God of War I'd recognize such a clear strategy."

I rub his shoulder, silently inhaling the scent of roses that lingers around him. I always love that scent. I run my fingers through his hair. "Oh, honey don't say that. You do see it. You just can't avoid it."

His lips twitch up. "Speaking of children I can't say no to, where is the little rascal? Breaking into something?"

I grin and shrug. "Actually, I gave him an assignment. I told him to create a plant copy of himself."

Slade frowns. "But...he can't do that."

"I know. So we've got at least an hour of free time if you want to put a barrier up." I stroke his collar.

He smirks. "Naughty Goddess,"