"Today Captain Righteous, head of the American Deeds Association, has yet again saved countless lives from certain death! Just moments prior to his arrival, a handful of armed aggressors in masks opened fire on pedestrians promptly after exclaiming how they were no longer going to accept, and I quote, being cogs in the mundane system of society. The Democratic hero showed up just before fatal harm and severe damage could be done; swooping in like lightning and subduing the unhinged group within mere seconds. We'll now head on over to our on-the-scene reporter, Jesse Long. Jesse." The channel 666 News Anchorwoman transfers focus to the mentioned individual after providing the raw details of the story of the day. However, by this point a particular young man's skepticism accumulates to a point where he can't bring himself to entertain another second of what sounds so surreal to his ears. With the push of a few buttons he changes the channel on his grandmother's TV, flickering over to the NetworkCartoon program. His questioning expression eases into his usual stoic stare as a genuine feeling of content settles in.
Despite going on sixteen, this young man's interest leans toward the simpler things in life. Cartoons happen to be one of those things. He's at the height of 5'10 with skin of a smooth, rich coffee-caramel color. A lean physique with a head of shoulder-length straight hair, brushed over and styled to where his left eye is almost entirely covered by his raven bangs. His eyeballs themselves are an unnatural white, and their lack of pupils gives them a resemblance to twin spotless plates laying in oceans of white - or twin full moons, as some would say. His attire consists of a simple tee shirt underneath a thin hoodie, a wristband on each arm, fitted jeans messily tucked into a pair of high top converse sneakers, and a pair of shin high socks underneath - all of which are black, as well as an accurate representation of his nonchalant tastes.
Unlike him, however, his grandmother has an eye for more colorful clothing.
"He should be here any minute. Are you excited?" The elder woman asks from the bathroom, presently looking in the mirror while putting on a pair of earrings.
"Uuh. I guess so. Kinda' nervous." He answers honestly.
"Don't be. You're just like your father, you know. Calm and simple. Doesn't say much or do much. Kind, too."
"Doesn't say or do much?" The youth repeats under his breath, somewhat frowning in reaction. Not quite sure how to feel about the comparison.
"I see." He speaks up this time.
"Uh huh. Not sure if he's a church man, but--"
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK!
The grandmother's notion is interrupted by someone knocking at their apartment door. Naturally, and before she could even ask, the young man rises to go answer it.
"Can you get that, Galvin?"
"Yeah, I got it." He answers from the kitchen, soon extending a hand to grip the doorknob.
"Who is it?" The boy asks.
"Gale." A masculine voice answers dryly from the other side. It's a name the teen isn't familiar with at all. Briefly looking over his shoulder, he calls out to his legal guardian.
"Hey, Bibi? It's someone named Gale. You know him?"
"That's him, that's him! That's your father." She answers, now frantically rushing to finish getting ready.
That very answer hits him with a wave of nerve trembling anxiety. His chest begins to feel heavy as he reaches for the locks. Meekly undoing both top and bottom before holding his breath. He peels the door open and lays eyes upon a tall man dressed formerly under an open trench coat. 6'5 in height, minor yet rough facial hair upon a fairly strong jawline, a head of raven shoulder-length shaggy hair, and skin of peanut butter complexion that's just a shade and a half lighter than the boy's. Identical features; eye shape, brows, eye color, and hair color. There's an air of grayness and simplicity to him. A man with a look of stoic honesty in his eyes, and jaded softness behind his words. There was no mistake that the two are definitely related.
"Can I come in? I don't want to be a nuisance and leave her door open." Gale asks.
"Sorry, yeah." Galvin responds and steps back to give the older male space to enter. Which he does, and then politely shuts & locks the door behind himself. The two soon find themselves staring at each other.
"Hey." Gale greets.
"Hey..." Galvin responds. Silence creeps in and lingers for a moment. A feeling of uncertainty eats at the teen from the inside out. He chews at the inner region of his bottom lip while his heart thumps uncomfortably behind his chest. Both pairs of his thumbs and point fingers clench intensely until he finds the courage to break what feels like minutes of painful quietness.
"Are you my... dad?"
"Are you... Galivinth?" The question surprises the teen. Eyes going wide and lips parting a tad. No one had ever really been able to say his actual name, especially on the first try.
"Y-yeah. I am. That's my name."
"Then I undoubtedly am your father. You're my son." Gale states rather stoically.
Silence seeps in again, and for much longer this time. The two look as if they're studying each other, trying to read the moment. It's difficult for them both to process. Then, simultaneously, they budge toward one another with the intent of hugging. There's a stutter in movement and brief pause, though the two eventually close off the distance between them and embrace one another. Galvin's heart rate increases in the moment. The two stay like that for a little over a minute.
Then? The father finally brings forth a concern of his.
"By the way--" Gale trails off, moving his hands to palm the sides of his son's face and tilt the boy's head back for a better look at his eyes.
"Are you blind?" He asks with narrowing eyes, noticing the boy's lack of pupils.
"...No. I can see fine." Galvin answers, grimacing as his father's thumbs press over his high cheekbones and just below his eyes.
"Uh huh. That's why you have trouble seeing far away, right?" The grandmother chimes in teasingly as she comes strolling into the kitchen in a tidy white blouse and lengthy black skirt.
"It's not that bad..." The teen assures.
"Oh, so his vision is impaired?" Gale asks, shifting his eyes toward the grandmother briefly.
"Hardly. I'm not colorblind or anything." Galvin argues.
"He needs glasses, but he refuses to wear and keep up with them." She insists.
"I see. Why is that, Galivinth?"
"I don't really need them."
"What he means is, he's too busy worrying about what the other kids at his school think to bother with them." The elder woman corrects.
"Bibi..." Galvin utters in disapproval.
"Do you truly not like wearing glasses?" Gale asks of his son.
"I don't really need them." Galvin answers.
"He really needs them. Maybe you can talk him into finally wearing them consistently." The grandmother counters.
"I can try." The father offers.
"It's really not that bad..." Galvin persists.
"Anywho, I was actually planning on attending church this morning. I don't mind you two spending time together, but all I ask is that you don't keep him out until the middle of the night." The grandmother finally drops the topic and informs them of her expectation.
"That's completely fair and fine by me." Gale tells her, now finally lowering his hands back to his sides.
"You have your key, right?" She asks, looking toward Galvin.
"Yes."
"Good. Be sure to lock the door on your way out if you're not leaving with me. I'm heading out after I grab my coat." She informs the youth before heading back to her room to fetch the mentioned item.
"Did you want to sit and talk for a bit, or something?" Galvin softly offers, tucking his hands into the depths of his pockets as he does.
"I want to take you somewhere and talk, actually. There's some important things we need to take care of. Things you need to know."
"Oh. Yeah, okay. I'm... I'm up for it. Whatever it is."
"Good. We'll leave now, then." Gale turns to unlock the door upon those words. Stepping out and waiting by the stairway leading down.
"We're leaving now, Bibi." Galvin calls out. However, his grandmother comes hustling out of her bedroom in the far back and toward the front with them.
"Alright, go ahead. I'll lock the door." She tells him. They both step out; she proceeds to lock the entrance while the other two begin their descent down and out of the building.
"Hey, let me do something right quick?" Galvin asks, stopping his father mid-walking.
"Hm? Sure, go ahead. I'll wait." The older male obliges. Not too long after, the grandmother emerges from the building. Slipping on her leather coat as the cool open air meets her brown skin. Once she has both arms through their respective openings, Galvin approaches and hugs her. Smiling, she returns the gesture.
"Oh, glad you didn't forget about my hug!" She tells him with sheer delight. Despite his near stoic expression, he leans in and begins laying kisses along his grandmother's forehead. At least a dozen before he fortifies the hug.
"I love you." He tenderly tells her. It earns him a chuckle from her.
"I love you, too. And be good, okay?" She responds while rubbing at his back. Promptly, another barrage of kisses are spread all over her face again right after.
"I will. Have a good day at church." Galvin responds.
"I will, I will." And with that, the two finally break apart and go their separate ways. She heads down to the opposite end of the block where the religious building is located. And him, toward his awaiting father.
"Alright, I'm ready now."
"Hmm. I've nearly forgotten how affectionate people here are on Earth. It's fascinating, yet also nice." Gale comments before beckoning his son along with a hand.
"Let's be on our way, shall we?"
He adds. The teen follows behind on a short walk toward a 1940 Ford Deluxe Coupe -- stainless black. Sleek and in mint condition. Gale makes his way around to the driver's side while Galvin takes a moment to ogle.
"Interesting car you've got. Didn't think I'd ever see one of these in person... It's pretty cool." The two settle inside and close their respective doors. Gale places his left hand on the steering wheel while his right reaches for where the key slot should be. He presses his point finger over the small circular panel there, allowing it to read his finger print. Then--
"Identification confirmed." A female AI voice speaks out, and a purring sensation ensues.
"What kind of car is this again?" The teen asks while lifting a brow.
"A Ford Coupe on the surface."
"Who built it? Some high-end company?"
"No. I did. I built everything that lies beneath and inside." Gale answers.
"Oh... wow. Okay, that... that's interesting." Galvin comments and buckles in. His father does so as well, but only after seeing him do so.
"That's what you do for a living? Building cars?"
"Not quite. But, I am glad you like the car. Built it from scratch myself." They pull off from the parking space and begin heading down the street.
"The technology that I work with far exceeds what you're used to here on Earth. We landed here by chance, but our mission remains the same, nonetheless. To learn, adapt, and improve life wherever we go." Gale explains.
"I... we?" Galvin arches a brow.
"We. Our people, son." And with that, Gale reaches for the gear stick and shifts it into his desired mode.
"You talk as iiiiiifffff!?" Panic comes pouring into the youth as the vehicle begins to not only tilt back, but also ascend skyward. Terrified, the teen desperately grabs onto anything his hands can grip. He also grits his teeth as they move closer and closer to the clouds above.
"OH MY GOD, WHY!?"
"Huh? What's wrong?"
"Heights... I hate heights! Stop going up!" Galvin admits.
"It's fine. You're not in any dang--" The father tries to reassure the boy.
"No, please! I really hate high places!"
"Galivinth..."
"I think I'm going to die of a heart attack..." By now, the car straightens out and begins flying smoothly. Still, the young man was breathing with exaggerated breaths through clenched teeth, wheezing in the midst of it all.
"Everything is fine, son. Calm yourself." The father attempts to get through his son. Extending a hand to rest it over one of Galvin's with a gentle grip, stroking delicately over the teen's straining knuckles with his thumb.
"Where are we going?"
"We're heading to the humble little town we've built on this planet. A place where we steadily grow in peace.'
"Does it have a name?" The teen prods.
"The town of Cryon. Or Cryon Kingdom, as some prefer."
"I-- I don't know where that is. Is it Greek?" The son asks.
"No. A place between the US and Canada." The father answers.
"Oh, alri-- Wait, how far are we going?"
"Much, much further than you're probably thinking." Gale tells him. Galvin isn't quite too sure what to make of such an answer, but he decides against prodding further. Instead, he directs his attention elsewhere. Outside the window at his side; it's anxiety inducing at first, but something catches his eyes below. Superheroes flying over Downtown Chicago and heading toward a business building that's lit ablaze. He leans closer and squints, but his nearsighted vision doesn't help him identify any of the band of four. But, it doesn't take much to realize they're charging into danger without hesitation. A thunderous KROOM! Rings out as the leading figure smashes through concrete and barges inside the burning structure with raw strength, while the others follow inside right after.
"Man, that's so cool..." Galvin murmurs as they pass by.
"Might want to brace yourself." Gale casually advises.
"Wha-AAAAAAAAHHHH!?" Before the teen could get out the question, his father presses down onto the accelerator and increases their speed by 3.5x.
The flying car fades into the distance in mere seconds.