byron best, totally normal wizard ✨ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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adventureic2024-04-23 09:50 pm
wizardjr) wrote in adventureic2024-04-23 09:50 pm
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WHO: Broderick & Byron Best.
WHEN: April 24th, just before noon.
WHERE: Broderick's farmhouse, Wales.
WHAT: Low-key post-Moon 30th birthday pancakes.
WARNINGS: N/A
Byron arrived at the farmhouse just before noon on his birthday, looking very much like someone who'd spent the night camping outdoors somewhere. He looked tired and windswept, but was otherwise unharmed, and he dropped his knapsack on the floor before greeting his brother with a casual "Hey".
“Hey he says,” Broderick had Byron pulled into a tight hug before the words were even out of his mouth. “30 years old today, but no big deal. You going to let us make a fuss of you now?” He smacked a kiss to the side of Byron’s head before withdrawing, giving the man some breathing space.
Byron returned the hug with enthusiasm, feeling a little as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was over. It was done. Now that that milestone had passed without incident, he could move on with his life.
"I don't need anyone to make a fuss over me. I'm an adult. I'm boring now. I'm mostly concerned with taxes and eating more fibre," Byron joked, giving his older brother a playful nudge.
“Everyone should eat more fibre,” Broderick flicked Byron in the ear and moved back towards the kitchen island where a ridiculous amount of food was obviously being organized. “Don’t worry asshole,” he shot Byron a look, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I didn’t make any of it, Bronwyn dropped most of this off earlier. She’s gone to get your cake now, which you’re definitely meant to be surprised about.”
Byron took a seat, unable to keep from cracking a smile. "You really didn't need to do all this. This is so much," he protested weakly, but also he was starving and was grabbing at the food within seconds of making himself at home. He stuffed his face with pancakes. "This is amazing. You're amazing. Thank you."
“Oi,” he smacked Byron’s hand with the spatula he'd been using to transfer the buttery pancakes from one dish to another. “You cannot eat until they all – oh fuck it,” he hefted a sigh, Byron refuelling after a gruelling full moon alone was far more important than the shrill outrage from their other siblings that would follow. “It’s your birthday, we’ll just lie to Bethany when she gets in.”
He turned to grab Byron some water. “So, how was it?”
Byron looked contemplative, as though he finally had time to process things. "You know what? Not… as bad as usual? I got that powdered horn for the pain from Maya, and I put down a bunch of crystals and runes for clarity and focus, and I think they actually helped me to keep my brain, mostly? I guess I had nothing to be scared of since there wasn't anyone around to potentially hurt or hurt me. I ate a cupcake. I looked at some stars. I still hate it all, but it wasn't as torturous as it usually is? Which is… progress, I suppose."
He accepted the water with gratitude and added, so as not to give himself too much credit, "Being near the ocean helps most things."
Broderick couldn’t disagree with that; when you’ve grown up near the ocean, nothing could compare to it.
“That’s great Byron,” Broderick smiled, it was so different from how his brother had talked about his werewolf reality before. It wasn’t a problem solved, but at least things were improving and he’d found something that may work for him. Broderick had been worried, admittedly. Of course he had. “I’m glad the powdered…horn worked, and the runes. Maybe that’ll help Sharona and Maya,” the older wizard wondered.
"I mean, that's if they're interested. I don't really want to step on the Hemmings' toes. I suppose I can offer it and they can take it or leave it," Byron said dismissively. "It might've just been a fluke anyway. Maybe I should've asked great-great-granddad if he'd ever come across any tips in his storied travels."
Broderick frowned at Byron’s comment, but knowing it wasn't a topic his younger brother would want to visit (especially during his birthday) he swallowed down his reply.
“I’ve still not gotten used to that,” Broderick admitted. Frankly, he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a lie still. Their mother hadn't even blinked when they’d told her, though Broderick had noticed the wheels of strategic machination turning even as she’d played it down. He did wonder what would happen when Bonventure was back.
“Did you want to invite him? Could be an opportunity to ask. I'm sure the cave gets cell service.”
"Nah, we don't really know him. And for all we know, he could just be some bored Fae playing tricks," Byron shrugged. "Frankly, if he does have the Holy Grail, it's pretty selfish of him to keep it all to himself."
“Are we sure he’s not related to Dad?” Broderick quipped, setting down the water and grabbing another glass for himself. “How does 30 feel old man?”
Byron snorted with laughter at the dig at their father. "Like I should have it all figured out now and grow a beard. And I have the sudden desire to buy a property with a lawn so that I can yell at people to get off of it."
“Getting ahead of yourself aren't you,” aging in wizard years as well now in werewolf years meant yelling at yelling at youth should happen at a cool 150 didn't it? “Or is that a dig at me,” he played at stabbing Byron in the hand with his fork. “Not that it matters since you’ll never grow a beard anyway.”
Byron stuck out his tongue at him, ever mature. "Oi, not everything is about you," he teased. "Besides, I think it might finally be coming in." He stroked his chin, which appeared to be just as smooth as it ever was.
“You become a werewolf and you still can’t manage a whisker,” Broderick puffed up his cheeks just to expel the air in an exaggerated show of sympathy and disbelief. “Tragic.”
"Hey!" Byron protested with an exaggeratedly indignant huff. "Maybe I'm just saving up all my hair so that I can be the fluffiest goodest boy you ever did see."
“You know, it kills me that I’m not allowed to make dog jokes, because you all make it so easy,” he muttered as if actually aggrieved by this. As Byron tucked into his birthday pancakes, his older brother grasped the wrapped package hidden away by the refrigerator (the one less hastily wrapped and not stinking of weed) and set it in front of him.
“It’s not as over the top as the girls’ gift, but I hope they’re helpful.”
"Awwwww, oh my god, you shouldn't have!" Byron protested, even as he eagerly tore into the wrapping paper anyway. When he lifted a set of notebooks with a very elegant Dr Byron Best engraved on them, his eyes immediately began to moisten.
"Broderick, these are amazing! But I haven't even succeeded yet?"
The elder Best rolled his eyes, waving the protest away like he was swatting a fly.
“You will,” he said with absolute certainty. “You already have, you just need a committee of pompous dickheads to tell you so. And if seeing that title is a reminder and motivator, well,” he smiled. “Good.”
Byron got up out of his seat and wrapped his brother up in an enormous hug, lifting him up off of the ground, just because he could.
“Holy fuck,” Broderick yelped. Despite the last few months, werewolf strength always seemed to catch him by surprise.
"I love you. I'm going to be sooooooo insufferable once you're not the only Dr B Best in our brood," he teased.
“You already are insufferable,” Broderick shot back, happiness lining every syllable in the face of Byron’s own. “Now put me down so I can find my dignity before the others get here and Bethany sees. And remember,” he warned Byron, “you’re surprised.”
WHEN: April 24th, just before noon.
WHERE: Broderick's farmhouse, Wales.
WHAT: Low-key post-Moon 30th birthday pancakes.
WARNINGS: N/A
Byron arrived at the farmhouse just before noon on his birthday, looking very much like someone who'd spent the night camping outdoors somewhere. He looked tired and windswept, but was otherwise unharmed, and he dropped his knapsack on the floor before greeting his brother with a casual "Hey".
“Hey he says,” Broderick had Byron pulled into a tight hug before the words were even out of his mouth. “30 years old today, but no big deal. You going to let us make a fuss of you now?” He smacked a kiss to the side of Byron’s head before withdrawing, giving the man some breathing space.
Byron returned the hug with enthusiasm, feeling a little as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was over. It was done. Now that that milestone had passed without incident, he could move on with his life.
"I don't need anyone to make a fuss over me. I'm an adult. I'm boring now. I'm mostly concerned with taxes and eating more fibre," Byron joked, giving his older brother a playful nudge.
“Everyone should eat more fibre,” Broderick flicked Byron in the ear and moved back towards the kitchen island where a ridiculous amount of food was obviously being organized. “Don’t worry asshole,” he shot Byron a look, gesturing for him to take a seat. “I didn’t make any of it, Bronwyn dropped most of this off earlier. She’s gone to get your cake now, which you’re definitely meant to be surprised about.”
Byron took a seat, unable to keep from cracking a smile. "You really didn't need to do all this. This is so much," he protested weakly, but also he was starving and was grabbing at the food within seconds of making himself at home. He stuffed his face with pancakes. "This is amazing. You're amazing. Thank you."
“Oi,” he smacked Byron’s hand with the spatula he'd been using to transfer the buttery pancakes from one dish to another. “You cannot eat until they all – oh fuck it,” he hefted a sigh, Byron refuelling after a gruelling full moon alone was far more important than the shrill outrage from their other siblings that would follow. “It’s your birthday, we’ll just lie to Bethany when she gets in.”
He turned to grab Byron some water. “So, how was it?”
Byron looked contemplative, as though he finally had time to process things. "You know what? Not… as bad as usual? I got that powdered horn for the pain from Maya, and I put down a bunch of crystals and runes for clarity and focus, and I think they actually helped me to keep my brain, mostly? I guess I had nothing to be scared of since there wasn't anyone around to potentially hurt or hurt me. I ate a cupcake. I looked at some stars. I still hate it all, but it wasn't as torturous as it usually is? Which is… progress, I suppose."
He accepted the water with gratitude and added, so as not to give himself too much credit, "Being near the ocean helps most things."
Broderick couldn’t disagree with that; when you’ve grown up near the ocean, nothing could compare to it.
“That’s great Byron,” Broderick smiled, it was so different from how his brother had talked about his werewolf reality before. It wasn’t a problem solved, but at least things were improving and he’d found something that may work for him. Broderick had been worried, admittedly. Of course he had. “I’m glad the powdered…horn worked, and the runes. Maybe that’ll help Sharona and Maya,” the older wizard wondered.
"I mean, that's if they're interested. I don't really want to step on the Hemmings' toes. I suppose I can offer it and they can take it or leave it," Byron said dismissively. "It might've just been a fluke anyway. Maybe I should've asked great-great-granddad if he'd ever come across any tips in his storied travels."
Broderick frowned at Byron’s comment, but knowing it wasn't a topic his younger brother would want to visit (especially during his birthday) he swallowed down his reply.
“I’ve still not gotten used to that,” Broderick admitted. Frankly, he wasn’t entirely convinced it wasn’t a lie still. Their mother hadn't even blinked when they’d told her, though Broderick had noticed the wheels of strategic machination turning even as she’d played it down. He did wonder what would happen when Bonventure was back.
“Did you want to invite him? Could be an opportunity to ask. I'm sure the cave gets cell service.”
"Nah, we don't really know him. And for all we know, he could just be some bored Fae playing tricks," Byron shrugged. "Frankly, if he does have the Holy Grail, it's pretty selfish of him to keep it all to himself."
“Are we sure he’s not related to Dad?” Broderick quipped, setting down the water and grabbing another glass for himself. “How does 30 feel old man?”
Byron snorted with laughter at the dig at their father. "Like I should have it all figured out now and grow a beard. And I have the sudden desire to buy a property with a lawn so that I can yell at people to get off of it."
“Getting ahead of yourself aren't you,” aging in wizard years as well now in werewolf years meant yelling at yelling at youth should happen at a cool 150 didn't it? “Or is that a dig at me,” he played at stabbing Byron in the hand with his fork. “Not that it matters since you’ll never grow a beard anyway.”
Byron stuck out his tongue at him, ever mature. "Oi, not everything is about you," he teased. "Besides, I think it might finally be coming in." He stroked his chin, which appeared to be just as smooth as it ever was.
“You become a werewolf and you still can’t manage a whisker,” Broderick puffed up his cheeks just to expel the air in an exaggerated show of sympathy and disbelief. “Tragic.”
"Hey!" Byron protested with an exaggeratedly indignant huff. "Maybe I'm just saving up all my hair so that I can be the fluffiest goodest boy you ever did see."
“You know, it kills me that I’m not allowed to make dog jokes, because you all make it so easy,” he muttered as if actually aggrieved by this. As Byron tucked into his birthday pancakes, his older brother grasped the wrapped package hidden away by the refrigerator (the one less hastily wrapped and not stinking of weed) and set it in front of him.
“It’s not as over the top as the girls’ gift, but I hope they’re helpful.”
"Awwwww, oh my god, you shouldn't have!" Byron protested, even as he eagerly tore into the wrapping paper anyway. When he lifted a set of notebooks with a very elegant Dr Byron Best engraved on them, his eyes immediately began to moisten.
"Broderick, these are amazing! But I haven't even succeeded yet?"
The elder Best rolled his eyes, waving the protest away like he was swatting a fly.
“You will,” he said with absolute certainty. “You already have, you just need a committee of pompous dickheads to tell you so. And if seeing that title is a reminder and motivator, well,” he smiled. “Good.”
Byron got up out of his seat and wrapped his brother up in an enormous hug, lifting him up off of the ground, just because he could.
“Holy fuck,” Broderick yelped. Despite the last few months, werewolf strength always seemed to catch him by surprise.
"I love you. I'm going to be sooooooo insufferable once you're not the only Dr B Best in our brood," he teased.
“You already are insufferable,” Broderick shot back, happiness lining every syllable in the face of Byron’s own. “Now put me down so I can find my dignity before the others get here and Bethany sees. And remember,” he warned Byron, “you’re surprised.”