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“ But suppose your dæmon settles in a shape you don't like?

Well, then, you're discontented, en't you? There's plenty of folk as'd like to have a lion as a dæmon and they end up with a poodle. And till they learn to be satisfied with what they are, they're going to be fretful about it. Waste of feeling, that is.

But it didn't seem to Lyra that she would ever grow up. ”

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[ his shoulders are soft. it isn't the kind of open transparency that might be noted in anyone else, depite the company they keep- but it's a signal all the same. chuck doesn't really let his guard down, but he does loosen his grip. chuck and max aren't touching, but she's close enough to his boots that it doesn't matter. he dotes on her. when he'd been a kid, teachers worried that it might be dependency- signals of insecurity or abuse in the home. it'd been doubly so for how early max had settled, but that kind of thing isn't uncommon in the world anymore. daemons tend to get fixed when a child experiences a traumatic event. the world as it is- he's hard pressed to think of a kid that hasn't.

chuck plays with his food almost more than he actually eats it, and he and his father sit in relative silence. max either notices the look meg is offering her, or doesn't, but her eyes close all the same. ]

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[ it's not an invitation, and the silence stretches between Herc and Chuck as they eat, not particularly even looking at one anther. from an outside perspective, it almost seems like a tense silence. they don't glance at one another, or ask each other pass anything to one another.

but under the table Meg waddles over, almost sideways in her approach, as though expecting that Maxie might turn her passive lay into something all teeth and claws. when there's no immediate response she moves directly into the bulldog's space and lays down along her side. they're basically the same size, and Meg squints as though daring Max to do something before she leans her snout over and grooming behind one of her folded ears. ]

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[ in many ways, the silences are companionable in the way their conversations aren't. maybe it could be blamed on the drift. maybe not. either way, it isn't something either party has shown a hell of a lot of interest in investigating. the universal if it ain't broke don't fix it is applied liberally and uses too many definitions of not broken in the loosest sense possible.

they kill kaiju just fine, so why bother with the rest.

chuck doesn't look up at meg's approach, and neither does max. it says something about his comfort with the present moment- the lack of immediate tension that she doesn't show her teeth to the badger, or rumble low in her chest. for as aggressive as chuck is, it isn't a quality max shares on her own. one eye opens for the touch at her ear, and she doesn't grow- but she does huff. the stub of her tail wags twice. ]

[heracleidae]

[ Meg seems to take this as a good sign and begins grooming Max with earnest. she isn't rough, but she's thorough and surprisingly tender, not really pushing the bulldog around very much. Herc reaches across the table for the salt and his hand brushes Chuck's on the way over, the first point of contact between them since they'd stepped into the cafeteria. ]

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[ maxie doesn't talk. it's not that she can't, and it's not that she's afraid to- but things had changed when sydney came down. chuck had been pulled out of the city with that bulldog in his arms- a form she stuck to when he was feeling particularly obstinate, particularly determined.

her head rolls to one side, offers up more space to clean, but she doesn't open her eyes again. it's a casual kind of compliance, and it's one of the few things that allows the hansens to move around each other. the wuff of her breath can reach herc's boots.

his old man moves for the salt and chuck takes the pepper- eyes on the guy's plate. it isn't until his old man's putting the thing back that he snags a drumstick and promptly nabs a bite. ]