Legacy of the New World @thecrownedchildren - Tumblr Blog

gothictunnels

#nox langdon #abbadon's son

museparadox

https://www.instagram.com/museparadox/

#moon princess #artemis langdon

fuuukurcool-deactivated20240218

Timothée Chalamet as Nic Sheff in Beautiful Boy (2018).

#nox langdon

idolsicon

luke crain

don’t forget to like or reblog if you save or use!

#lucian mead

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon always soaked in any attention he got, no matter how small. He smiles proudly at Nox and ruffles his hair as the passerby mentions the resemblance, not necessarily out of genuine affection but more from a sense of stroking his ego. Nox was his son, who looked like him, who made him look good. Though, even with this shallow gesture, he does notice the wild look in his eye as Nox studies the weapons, the desire for the power destruction holds. He’s not completely disconnected. He then glances at Lux, the little golden boy, crowned prince, the one thing Abbadon had tried to prevent from happening to secure his position as nearest to the throne. He hated the little brat for his very existence, for what he represented. A loss of power and prestige. A failed plan. Of course, he knew that he couldn’t hurt him directly. That’s no longer an option. He has no control over him. But he does have control over his own son, and he can teach him how his brother is stealing his birthright from him, turn them against each other… “You and Nox ever fight, Lux?” he asks the worried boy.

thecrownedchildren

“Mm?” he asks, looking up at Abbadon from the exhibit in front of him. They are Michael’s eyes, and fuck, they’re shaped just like Summer’s—Maya blue and big, inquisitive, intelligent. The light hits them just right and for a moment the child looks like some strange, beautiful angel... a young Lucifer before the Fall, whose very appearance would guide others down with him.

“Fight?”

He looks at Nox and Nox looks at him. They exchange a moment of eye contact, and then Lux shrugs.

“Crayons.”

They do, indeed, bicker over crayons sometimes.

As though remembering his mother’s request that he make sure Lux have a good time, Nox goes to his brother and takes his hand, leading him over to the guns and pointing.

“Boom.”

Lux nods solemnly.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon’s hatred for the boy grows as he stares into those eyes. The perfect combination of the two people he despises the most in the world. A brief, very violent thought of ripping them from his sockets crosses his mind.

“Crayons?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s it? You two don’t fight over anything else?”

It shocks him because, from the womb, fighting over things was what he and Michael did. They fought over food, toys, everything.

It might be harder to divide them than he thought.

He watches his son lead Lux to one of the exhibits with fascination. They speak in their own language. Just like him and Michael.

Glancing over, he sees an exhibit dedicated to the most deadly of human weapons. The bomb.

“Hey, Nox, you wanna see a real-life bomb?”

thecrownedchildren

Nox would go with joy to see a turd if it were Abbadon escorting him to do so. He nods eagerly and takes Abbadon’s large hand with the same ease and comfort as when he takes Summer, or even Michael’s. To say that Michael is like a father to him is, of course, an understatement, but even he knows that his uncle and father are very different people.

“Yes!”

Lux looks at Abbadon and Nox, prepared to follow.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon leads the two boys over to the exhibit that begins with the Manhattan Project, including a dramatic voiceover of the infamous line, “Now I have become death, destroyer of worlds.” Abbadon smirks at this. “Looks like your daddy sure showed him, huh, Lux?” he joked, half-way hoping to scare the boy, “But he used nuclear bombs. Do you boys know what happens when a nuke is dropped?” He crouches down next to them as if he’s telling a spooky story, “Everything nearest to it gets evaporated. Just poof and it’s gone like it never existed.”

thecrownedchildren

Lux looks very uncertain at this analysis, and those eyes, wide and discerning, are still fixed on his uncle like he can see every sin he's ever committed. He does not understand evaporation but he recognizes poof and gone well enough.

Abbadon might as well be telling them a story about a land full of candy hills, gumdrop houses and sugar trees for the way Nox is gazing at him. He even sways on his little feet in his excitement, taking Abbadon's arm for support.

"Poof!" he says, loudly, hopping up and down. "Poof, poof, poof!'

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon smirks at the boys, “You wanna see?” There’s a little display with a simulation of a metropolitan city beneath a plexiglass case with a big red button outside of it. Abbadon presses the button and activates the simulation wherein a nuclear bomb is dropped and the whole city goes up in a mushroom cloud of ash and fire, everything obliterated. He looks at his nephew and nods towards it, “Press the button, Lux. You can be just like Daddy.” He encourages Nox to do the same, patting his back, “It’s just like the Legos, but better.”

thecrownedchildren

Once the simulation has reset, Nox eagerly goes up and smacks his little hand on the button, fingers splayed. He basks in the proud little pat between his shoulderblades, and even though the simulation has started, he hits it again, and again, and again, like if he had his choice he'd annihilate the city until nothing could ever grow there again.

He squeals, loud enough to make everyone around them turn and smile. The children are much-beloved by the people, even Nox—thanks to Michael's insistence that he be treated with equal reverence and respect. They're delighted to see them having fun with the Prince.

Nox looks at Lux as if to say your turn!

Michael's son looks at Abbadon and waits for the city to right itself again. Then he walks up and, with one finger, bravely and calmly pushes the button.

He does it with an eerie solemnity and purpose.

theuncrowneddestroyer

The bomb drops in silence, and once again the simulated city explodes in a mushroom cloud of fire, wiping it away in one swoop. The gravity of the moment would likely not be lost on Lux. They, along with every other child in the New World, would be taught that those bombs were dropped so that the old could be washed away and it’s sins could be purged from the new.

Abbadon bites the inside of his cheek. Every move Lux makes gets on his fucking nerves. They might be too young to get it, but he and everyone else could pick it out in a heartbeat. It was clear who was the son of a King.

“Come on, let’s go somewhere else,” he says, annoyed he couldn’t freak the kid out like he wanted to, “Maybe the dinosaurs?”

He’s proving to not be terrible at watching the children, which will be a relief to Summer. But instead of waiting for an answer from the the twins he merely directs them that way automatically. He wants to just start walking and see if they follow but that’d get reported to Michael for sure so he tries to herd them.

thecrownedchildren

Lux puts his hands in the straps of his backpack and lifts it a little higher on his shoulders as he walks forward to follow his uncle. He does not seem to be having much fun.

"Dinos," he says, smiling, then gives a quiet little snarl at Nox.

Nox laughs and makes claws with his hands, starting to walk with a wobble. Lux giggles and soon the two of them are tromping behind Abbadon towards the dinosaur exhibit, having a grand time, looking like any children below the age of two ought to look.

They've seen a few of the Land Before Time movies, so they're aware of what dinosaurs are in the abstract. Nox especially enjoys them, and would enjoy them even more when he finds out that one big rock wiped all of them out.

The Old World was so destructive.

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon always soaked in any attention he got, no matter how small. He smiles proudly at Nox and ruffles his hair as the passerby mentions the resemblance, not necessarily out of genuine affection but more from a sense of stroking his ego. Nox was his son, who looked like him, who made him look good. Though, even with this shallow gesture, he does notice the wild look in his eye as Nox studies the weapons, the desire for the power destruction holds. He’s not completely disconnected. He then glances at Lux, the little golden boy, crowned prince, the one thing Abbadon had tried to prevent from happening to secure his position as nearest to the throne. He hated the little brat for his very existence, for what he represented. A loss of power and prestige. A failed plan. Of course, he knew that he couldn’t hurt him directly. That’s no longer an option. He has no control over him. But he does have control over his own son, and he can teach him how his brother is stealing his birthright from him, turn them against each other… “You and Nox ever fight, Lux?” he asks the worried boy.

thecrownedchildren

“Mm?” he asks, looking up at Abbadon from the exhibit in front of him. They are Michael’s eyes, and fuck, they’re shaped just like Summer’s—Maya blue and big, inquisitive, intelligent. The light hits them just right and for a moment the child looks like some strange, beautiful angel... a young Lucifer before the Fall, whose very appearance would guide others down with him.

“Fight?”

He looks at Nox and Nox looks at him. They exchange a moment of eye contact, and then Lux shrugs.

“Crayons.”

They do, indeed, bicker over crayons sometimes.

As though remembering his mother’s request that he make sure Lux have a good time, Nox goes to his brother and takes his hand, leading him over to the guns and pointing.

“Boom.”

Lux nods solemnly.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon’s hatred for the boy grows as he stares into those eyes. The perfect combination of the two people he despises the most in the world. A brief, very violent thought of ripping them from his sockets crosses his mind.

“Crayons?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s it? You two don’t fight over anything else?”

It shocks him because, from the womb, fighting over things was what he and Michael did. They fought over food, toys, everything.

It might be harder to divide them than he thought.

He watches his son lead Lux to one of the exhibits with fascination. They speak in their own language. Just like him and Michael.

Glancing over, he sees an exhibit dedicated to the most deadly of human weapons. The bomb.

“Hey, Nox, you wanna see a real-life bomb?”

thecrownedchildren

Nox would go with joy to see a turd if it were Abbadon escorting him to do so. He nods eagerly and takes Abbadon’s large hand with the same ease and comfort as when he takes Summer, or even Michael’s. To say that Michael is like a father to him is, of course, an understatement, but even he knows that his uncle and father are very different people.

“Yes!”

Lux looks at Abbadon and Nox, prepared to follow.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon leads the two boys over to the exhibit that begins with the Manhattan Project, including a dramatic voiceover of the infamous line, “Now I have become death, destroyer of worlds.” Abbadon smirks at this. “Looks like your daddy sure showed him, huh, Lux?” he joked, half-way hoping to scare the boy, “But he used nuclear bombs. Do you boys know what happens when a nuke is dropped?” He crouches down next to them as if he’s telling a spooky story, “Everything nearest to it gets evaporated. Just poof and it’s gone like it never existed.”

thecrownedchildren

Lux looks very uncertain at this analysis, and those eyes, wide and discerning, are still fixed on his uncle like he can see every sin he's ever committed. He does not understand evaporation but he recognizes poof and gone well enough.

Abbadon might as well be telling them a story about a land full of candy hills, gumdrop houses and sugar trees for the way Nox is gazing at him. He even sways on his little feet in his excitement, taking Abbadon's arm for support.

"Poof!" he says, loudly, hopping up and down. "Poof, poof, poof!'

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon smirks at the boys, “You wanna see?” There’s a little display with a simulation of a metropolitan city beneath a plexiglass case with a big red button outside of it. Abbadon presses the button and activates the simulation wherein a nuclear bomb is dropped and the whole city goes up in a mushroom cloud of ash and fire, everything obliterated. He looks at his nephew and nods towards it, “Press the button, Lux. You can be just like Daddy.” He encourages Nox to do the same, patting his back, “It’s just like the Legos, but better.”

thecrownedchildren

Once the simulation has reset, Nox eagerly goes up and smacks his little hand on the button, fingers splayed. He basks in the proud little pat between his shoulderblades, and even though the simulation has started, he hits it again, and again, and again, like if he had his choice he'd annihilate the city until nothing could ever grow there again.

He squeals, loud enough to make everyone around them turn and smile. The children are much-beloved by the people, even Nox—thanks to Michael's insistence that he be treated with equal reverence and respect. They're delighted to see them having fun with the Prince.

Nox looks at Lux as if to say your turn!

Michael's son looks at Abbadon and waits for the city to right itself again. Then he walks up and, with one finger, bravely and calmly pushes the button.

He does it with an eerie solemnity and purpose.

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon always soaked in any attention he got, no matter how small. He smiles proudly at Nox and ruffles his hair as the passerby mentions the resemblance, not necessarily out of genuine affection but more from a sense of stroking his ego. Nox was his son, who looked like him, who made him look good. Though, even with this shallow gesture, he does notice the wild look in his eye as Nox studies the weapons, the desire for the power destruction holds. He’s not completely disconnected. He then glances at Lux, the little golden boy, crowned prince, the one thing Abbadon had tried to prevent from happening to secure his position as nearest to the throne. He hated the little brat for his very existence, for what he represented. A loss of power and prestige. A failed plan. Of course, he knew that he couldn’t hurt him directly. That’s no longer an option. He has no control over him. But he does have control over his own son, and he can teach him how his brother is stealing his birthright from him, turn them against each other… “You and Nox ever fight, Lux?” he asks the worried boy.

thecrownedchildren

“Mm?” he asks, looking up at Abbadon from the exhibit in front of him. They are Michael’s eyes, and fuck, they’re shaped just like Summer’s—Maya blue and big, inquisitive, intelligent. The light hits them just right and for a moment the child looks like some strange, beautiful angel... a young Lucifer before the Fall, whose very appearance would guide others down with him.

“Fight?”

He looks at Nox and Nox looks at him. They exchange a moment of eye contact, and then Lux shrugs.

“Crayons.”

They do, indeed, bicker over crayons sometimes.

As though remembering his mother’s request that he make sure Lux have a good time, Nox goes to his brother and takes his hand, leading him over to the guns and pointing.

“Boom.”

Lux nods solemnly.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon’s hatred for the boy grows as he stares into those eyes. The perfect combination of the two people he despises the most in the world. A brief, very violent thought of ripping them from his sockets crosses his mind.

“Crayons?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s it? You two don’t fight over anything else?”

It shocks him because, from the womb, fighting over things was what he and Michael did. They fought over food, toys, everything.

It might be harder to divide them than he thought.

He watches his son lead Lux to one of the exhibits with fascination. They speak in their own language. Just like him and Michael.

Glancing over, he sees an exhibit dedicated to the most deadly of human weapons. The bomb.

“Hey, Nox, you wanna see a real-life bomb?”

thecrownedchildren

Nox would go with joy to see a turd if it were Abbadon escorting him to do so. He nods eagerly and takes Abbadon’s large hand with the same ease and comfort as when he takes Summer, or even Michael’s. To say that Michael is like a father to him is, of course, an understatement, but even he knows that his uncle and father are very different people.

“Yes!”

Lux looks at Abbadon and Nox, prepared to follow.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon leads the two boys over to the exhibit that begins with the Manhattan Project, including a dramatic voiceover of the infamous line, “Now I have become death, destroyer of worlds.” Abbadon smirks at this. “Looks like your daddy sure showed him, huh, Lux?” he joked, half-way hoping to scare the boy, “But he used nuclear bombs. Do you boys know what happens when a nuke is dropped?” He crouches down next to them as if he’s telling a spooky story, “Everything nearest to it gets evaporated. Just poof and it’s gone like it never existed.”

thecrownedchildren

Lux looks very uncertain at this analysis, and those eyes, wide and discerning, are still fixed on his uncle like he can see every sin he's ever committed. He does not understand evaporation but he recognizes poof and gone well enough.

Abbadon might as well be telling them a story about a land full of candy hills, gumdrop houses and sugar trees for the way Nox is gazing at him. He even sways on his little feet in his excitement, taking Abbadon's arm for support.

"Poof!" he says, loudly, hopping up and down. "Poof, poof, poof!'

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon always soaked in any attention he got, no matter how small. He smiles proudly at Nox and ruffles his hair as the passerby mentions the resemblance, not necessarily out of genuine affection but more from a sense of stroking his ego. Nox was his son, who looked like him, who made him look good. Though, even with this shallow gesture, he does notice the wild look in his eye as Nox studies the weapons, the desire for the power destruction holds. He’s not completely disconnected. He then glances at Lux, the little golden boy, crowned prince, the one thing Abbadon had tried to prevent from happening to secure his position as nearest to the throne. He hated the little brat for his very existence, for what he represented. A loss of power and prestige. A failed plan. Of course, he knew that he couldn’t hurt him directly. That’s no longer an option. He has no control over him. But he does have control over his own son, and he can teach him how his brother is stealing his birthright from him, turn them against each other… “You and Nox ever fight, Lux?” he asks the worried boy.

thecrownedchildren

“Mm?” he asks, looking up at Abbadon from the exhibit in front of him. They are Michael’s eyes, and fuck, they’re shaped just like Summer’s—Maya blue and big, inquisitive, intelligent. The light hits them just right and for a moment the child looks like some strange, beautiful angel... a young Lucifer before the Fall, whose very appearance would guide others down with him.

“Fight?”

He looks at Nox and Nox looks at him. They exchange a moment of eye contact, and then Lux shrugs.

“Crayons.”

They do, indeed, bicker over crayons sometimes.

As though remembering his mother’s request that he make sure Lux have a good time, Nox goes to his brother and takes his hand, leading him over to the guns and pointing.

“Boom.”

Lux nods solemnly.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon’s hatred for the boy grows as he stares into those eyes. The perfect combination of the two people he despises the most in the world. A brief, very violent thought of ripping them from his sockets crosses his mind.

“Crayons?” He raises an eyebrow, “That’s it? You two don’t fight over anything else?”

It shocks him because, from the womb, fighting over things was what he and Michael did. They fought over food, toys, everything.

It might be harder to divide them than he thought.

He watches his son lead Lux to one of the exhibits with fascination. They speak in their own language. Just like him and Michael.

Glancing over, he sees an exhibit dedicated to the most deadly of human weapons. The bomb.

“Hey, Nox, you wanna see a real-life bomb?”

thecrownedchildren

Nox would go with joy to see a turd if it were Abbadon escorting him to do so. He nods eagerly and takes Abbadon’s large hand with the same ease and comfort as when he takes Summer, or even Michael’s. To say that Michael is like a father to him is, of course, an understatement, but even he knows that his uncle and father are very different people.

“Yes!”

Lux looks at Abbadon and Nox, prepared to follow.

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.

theuncrowneddestroyer

Abbadon always soaked in any attention he got, no matter how small. He smiles proudly at Nox and ruffles his hair as the passerby mentions the resemblance, not necessarily out of genuine affection but more from a sense of stroking his ego. Nox was his son, who looked like him, who made him look good. Though, even with this shallow gesture, he does notice the wild look in his eye as Nox studies the weapons, the desire for the power destruction holds. He’s not completely disconnected. He then glances at Lux, the little golden boy, crowned prince, the one thing Abbadon had tried to prevent from happening to secure his position as nearest to the throne. He hated the little brat for his very existence, for what he represented. A loss of power and prestige. A failed plan. Of course, he knew that he couldn’t hurt him directly. That’s no longer an option. He has no control over him. But he does have control over his own son, and he can teach him how his brother is stealing his birthright from him, turn them against each other… “You and Nox ever fight, Lux?” he asks the worried boy.

thecrownedchildren

“Mm?” he asks, looking up at Abbadon from the exhibit in front of him. They are Michael’s eyes, and fuck, they’re shaped just like Summer’s—Maya blue and big, inquisitive, intelligent. The light hits them just right and for a moment the child looks like some strange, beautiful angel... a young Lucifer before the Fall, whose very appearance would guide others down with him.

“Fight?”

He looks at Nox and Nox looks at him. They exchange a moment of eye contact, and then Lux shrugs.

“Crayons.”

They do, indeed, bicker over crayons sometimes.

As though remembering his mother’s request that he make sure Lux have a good time, Nox goes to his brother and takes his hand, leading him over to the guns and pointing.

“Boom.”

Lux nods solemnly.

theuncrowneddestroyer

The Old World museum would bore most kids to tears, but not the royal twins. Lux loves looking at the war exhibit for the uniforms, flags, and maps that he doesn't know how to read yet. He likes the old colors and worn fabrics. Nox, however, loves to learn about all the ways the people before the Apocalypse would destroy one another. He points at a musket with a bayonet, which to him would look completely foreign. "Daddy?" He's asking for an explanation. Both of them are curious beyond belief.

Abbadon was not a museum kind of person, but he will admit that the war and weapons exhibit was way more up his alley than anything else; and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at the way his son oohed and awed at the intricate guns and weapons which ranged from daggers in the 500s BC to WWII German machine guns.

He looked at the musket and pointed, "You know what a gun is, kid? Well, that's a gun with a knife at the end of it. It's called a bayonet."

@thecrownedchildren

thecrownedchildren

Nox coos happily, putting his hands up on the little velvet rope separating him from the shiny, devastating objects. He’s watched a few kids’ movies that had guns in them—Pocahontas and the like—so he knows what they’re capable of. His eyes are wide and yearning, like he wants nothing more than to climb in there and touch his hands to that big heavy cannonball like a prophetic orb, just to feel the power it holds.

A few guests of the museum pass them with little bows, smiles, and murmured respectful remarks. “Your Highness, Your Highness, Your Royal Highness...”

One of them looks at Nox and says as they pass, good-naturedly, “What a little prince. He looks just like his father.”

Lux presses a little button nearby and brings forth the audio that explains the conflict of the Civil War. He doesn’t understand most of it. Slavery. Economics. Factories. Blockades. These are not words he knows, but they are words he knows to respect.

He hears the phrase, occasionally even families were torn apart and forced to fight against one another, brother against brother, and looks nervously over at Nox.