to rule the world | a ninjago au

[24] spider's in the house

tw // mention of cutting, harm, muder. more than normal. it's morro. 

morro

"Wow, real original. Bucket on the door. How'd you even get up there?" Morro flicked his hand, and a gust of wind outside floated in to bring down the bucket full of water. "You're like, as tall as a dwarf."

"Am not," Harvey blew a rude raspberry at Morro and continued playing with his puzzle, "Someone helped me."

"Who?'

"Lady with white hair," was all he said, and Morro knew he wasn't getting anything else out of the kid. Still, he tried to see if he could tear Harry away from the puzzle. The name still felt strange just thinking about it, because those five letters brought up more history than he liked to think about. But the kid liked being called Harry, and if anything, it was easier to get him awake or in the shower if he called him that. It seemed odd, that Neuro, with such a unique name, had a brother named Harry and a nephew called Harvey.

But he'd grown up with strange all his life, so maybe his idea of normal was another person's hallucination.

"Harumi?"

"Dunno."

"You said she had white hair, though?"

"Mmmmm, maybe. She's played with me before. It was fun. Can I have pasta for lunch?" Harvey was relatively unconcerned that Harumi, Lady Blanche, helped him set up a prank. Six year olds weren't too concerned with murdering teenagers, however.

"I told you earlier, my father has planned a luncheon we have to attend," Morro's voice was irritably strained, though he kept in mind not to let it be too noticeable. His own father's harsh words had taught him discipline, but Morro was most definitely not a father figure to Harvey. Or an anything figure, for that matter.

"I don't like suits."

"Surprise, neither do I," Morro said dryly, treating the younger boy to a raised eyebrow. Harvey puffed out an incredibly old-sounding sigh for a six year old and trotted to his connecting room. The one that had been occupied for all of one night, by Harumi. She was a strange girl, even stranger now he'd found out she'd talked to Harvey.

The tailor had picked out an all black suit for him, again, simple as to not outshine his father. Though how you could outshine a man with gold trailing after him was an unanswered question. Morro faltered on the tie, as he did every time. It was purely muscle memory by now, but the first time he'd had to consult a video online.

"Heeelp," crowed Harvey's whining voice. Morro rolled his eyes, smoothed down his coat, pulled his hair back into a bun (it was getting long, and the green strands looked a little faded now), and found Harvey nearly strangled by the tiny dress shirt.

"This way," Morro removed the shirt and made Harvey stick his hands up in the air so it was easier. Harry - Harvey - whichever, clipped on a bow tie at a jaunty angle his father would not like, so Morro fixed it.

"Is my uncle gonna be there?"

"No." he answered a little too quickly, too defensively. If it had been anyone else but a six year old, they would have picked up on his nervous gulp. Morro was all too aware of the mistakes he made presenting himself. Harvey could not, would not find out that his uncle had been chained up in a dungeon and had been tortured by the girl who had helped him set up a harmless prank. At least that atrocity was over now.

"Time to go," Morro announced, holding the door open with a fancy sweep. Harvey giggled, copied messily with his own and strutted down the red-carpeted hallway with as much swagger as a child could muster.