His mouth opening wide in a tired yawn, Howard Lindon decided to take the opportunity to stretch. Arching his back against the guard rail of the receiving platform, he welcomed the relief brought on by stretching his arms above his head in what amounted to an upside-down four. Hours in a plane, horrifically idle, had done him no favors, and his muscles ached for activity even as they ached for rest in some sort of sick hypocrisy. The human body, he had decided long ago, was an abomination of contradictory behaviors.
Yawn winding down, Howard concluded his little stretching session, returning to a more normal posture and pose. Smacking his lips, he began to rub at his jaw, the bristly hairs that met his hand reminding the Beta doctor of the unwelcome beard he had developed during his months of relative isolation. Getting rid of that thing, he decided while bringing his rubbing arm down to once more rest upon the guard rail, was priority number one once he got back home.
Still, the sacrifice of a more kempt appearance had been more than worth it. During his time in the lush forests of South America, he had saved so many lives in the wake of what in this day and age was a relatively minor disease that had visited itself upon an indigenous Beta tribe that called a small section of those forests home. Independent and hostile toward interference from Aegis (themselves holding to policies of non-interference in matters of indigenous Beta populations unless requested), the tribe's elders had nevertheless accepted a compromise of sorts in the early days of the sickness in allowing Howard and a handful of other medically educated Betas to visit them. It was a decision that had ultimately saved the tribe, barring the idea that Aegis might have eventually broken their policy if the choice had been either that or the extinction of a people they had watched for years from a respectful distance. As the sickness had progressed through the tribe, it had required unceasing devotion from Howard and his limited team colleagues to control. There had been dark spots, there had been deaths, none of them easy to swallow. Yet through their ceaseless dedication they had persevered, and the tribe had survived largely intact. More than worth the cost of ugly facial hair.
Still, Howard thought with a frown, there had been other costs. Ones much more serious than some trifling amount of facial hair, that weighed down upon him even now. Choosing to stay with those people...over leaving to be with his son...it had been the most difficult decision of his life. To not come back home to be there for his child as he lay broken in a mobile little hospital bed, the victim of a living nightmare he though he had escaped forever...sometimes it felt as if he couldn't have possibly made that decision, and yet he had. It had tortured him every day, leading Howard to bury himself in his work with preternatural focus as he had told himself that those Betas needed him to be there, that his son had been safe in the custody of those who could protect him, while he had channeled his personal frustrations into a constructive force.
They had not gone without correspondence, of course. He had taken his rest shifts at the Aegis outpost some distance away from the tribe's lands, which had allowed him email access. Still, Howard felt that was a poor substitute for actually being there as Corey had occasionally expressed his discontentment with his current situation of complete dependence, though as typical for his son it was relegated to subtext - outright voicing those frustrations just wasn't a likely scenario for the young man. Despite that, his son's messages had generally been rather relaxed - even if he had been discontent with his current confinement to bed, he had seemed content in other areas. It had honestly flummoxed Howard quite a bit, Corey being relaxed in any way after his vicious assault, and truly he had worried that his son was bottling things up for his sake.
The reason for that relaxation had become quite clear, Howard recalled with some amusement, just a few days ago when he had been making his preparations to leave. Corey had, apparently, felt the need to inform him before his arrival that he was now "kind of" dating sweet little Melody King. That had actually drawn a good laugh out of Howard at the time, something he had desperately needed. Greg's eldest daughter had been openly infatuated with his son for years, something pretty much everyone had noticed - except, somehow, for Corey himself. Someone had apparently made a move in the aftermath of Corey's experience, and Howard found himself immensely grateful for that. If Melody could provide for Corey what contentment had been in those messages in the wake of the horror his son had experienced, if she could be the rock that Abby had been for Howard himself...
If, Howard thought as he turned his head to take a look at the city that sat outside of the airport's grounds, she could be there for his pride and joy...
As if on cue, a new form appeared amidst the buildings that lined the multi-lane road leading in and out the airport. It was a form that was a match for some of those structures in stature, while at the same time being dwarfed by others. But of course, this form was not of glass, of stone, of metal. This form was living and lively, and even at this great distance it exuded excitement.
It was the form of his other pride and joy.
Howard smirked lightly to himself as his daughter rounded the corner that would place her on the direct path to the airport. At this distance, she looked to be of an actually manageable size. That in itself brought Howard some amusement, as even at this supposed "manageable" size, she still rivaled the buildings she was walking among. Of course, with each single step along the reserved central lane - a lane he knew to be only a bit wider than one of her feet, and which she often referred to as more of a balance board than a dedicated lane - her true size began to assert itself more and more.
As her form continued to grow ever larger, it also became ever clearer, and years of fatherhood began to take the reins of his thoughts. He had become adept, to say the least, at reading body language over the past 15 years. Particularly with his wife, and just as much so with his adoptive daughter. Truthfully, he felt as if it would be odd if he hadn't developed this particularly proficiency. Given the...difference, in their respective scales, body language should be quite easy for him to read indeed. Anyone, he surmised, should be able to read a form the size of a mountain.
And what the little mountain in the distance told him was that it was having to try very, very hard to contain itself to its present pace. It told him that the long strides being taken weren't long enough, that the distance covered could be greater. It told him that the pace could be quicker, that it wanted to erupt in a cheerful, hasty gait. That it wanted to jog, wanted to run. That it wanted to end its confinement to that central lane and use all of the considerable power at its disposal to reach its destination as quickly as possible - which would be quick, indeed, should it give in to that impatience.
Of course, the little-but-still-growing mountain steadily making its way down that path wouldn't do such a thing. His daughter wouldn't. Even if she likely could traverse the remaining distance in just about any manner she wished without a single misstep, she would keep herself controlled. Disciplined. Anything else might lead to harm, and a girl Claire's size could certainly cause quite a large amount of that - especially with all those comparatively little cars zooming by her sandal-clad feet. No, much like her mother, she would act in a manner that kept the safety of those around her in mind. It was that discipline, that care, that self-restraint that Howard had always admired and loved. First in Abby, and then in Claire. Though while in the former it had been a source of early awe and then infatuation,with the latter it had instead been a source of pride.
So it was with pride that he calmly observed his daughter's continued approach. For now, he simply had to keep his gaze level, though that luxury would end soon enough. Granted, knowing Claire, that in itself wouldn't be the case for long. Continuing to watch Claire's approach, he turned on the spot, easing his view while resting his forearms upon the railing. Each step now seemed to make her increasingly larger, an effect that reached its crescendo as the Omega finally stepped onto the grounds of the airport. Now in close proximity to the facility, Claire actually had to look down upon it...a building that was effectively a skyscraper to Howard, and here was his 20-year old daughter looking down at it. In the confines of their home, he sometimes forgot what a small world this really was for his wife and daughter.
The Omega's arrival at the airport was met with the arrival of something else: Newly open space and, with it, freedom. The freedom to move where she pleased. And, as the towering young woman's eyes located the half-circle of the receiving area which currently housed Howard and which was elevated at about five Alpha feet in height, she took advantage of that freedom by leaving her little lane behind while still keeping a measured pace. At this distance, though, even a measured pace would take her to his location in no time. With each of Claire's steps, Howard had to crane his neck a bit higher, until eventually he was almost looking straight upward.
As the Omega came to a halt just a short step away from the open platform, she leaned forward slightly, bringing her face into easy view, the long black strands of her hair cascading downward. With a casual movements of a hand thousands of feet above, those pendulous tresses were easily swept back behind her shoulders, leaving Howard with only her soft brown eyes to focus on. He watched with wry amusement as they began to search his platform, itself surprisingly crowded with Betas here to be picked by Alphas (likely) or some other Omega. He could only imagine, going by the fact that Claire was currently biting her lower lip in palpable concentration, her taking in the face of each and every Beta her sharp eyes observed as her gaze slowly made its way to him from the end of the platform furthest from his position.
That wasn't going to do, Howard thought, as he brought a hand up to his right ear, giving a quick press to the tag attached to the lobe.
"Two o'clock, Claire-bear," he called playfully upward, his little voice now amplified rather tremendously by the wondrous little device attached to his ear. The response from his daughter was instantaneous, her dark mirrors shifting and locking onto him with startling accuracy and without the slightest bit of hesitation. As soon as they found him, that lip-biting halted. Instead, the corners of Claire's lips began to curl upwards in an immense smile that bared her house-sized teeth. It was a beautiful smile, a familiar smile - it was something she had inherited completely from her mother, and it suited her just the same.
Howard smiled, too, at this acknowledgment, and prepared himself to disembark as he watched his enormous child begin to lower herself down onto her haunches. The surrounding Betas, he noticed, began to back away from the enclosing rails, apparently none too eager to come into close contact with the portrait of enormity before them. He supposed this must be their first time being so close to an Omega, in which case he couldn't quite blame them. He hadn't reacted much better, after all, on that night that now seemed so long ago, when Abby's impossibly massive body had been approaching him and his infant son. That fright had been for naught, of course, but he supposed he was quite biased by this point. While their apprehension was lamentable, he was just glad that Claire was far too preoccupied with fetching him to notice. It would be a pity for that smile to transform into a frown.
Claire was resting on one knee soon enough, and it was then that she brought her right hand to bear. With palm upturned it approached, it's bulk and power great enough to easily rip the entire receiving area away from the airport terminal if its owner so desired. Instead, Claire's index finger unfurled from its companions, pointing square at him as it did so. Closer and closer it came, like a flesh-toned missile, until it suddenly dipped downward. With practiced care, Claire hooked her finger gently underneath the protruding platform of the receiving area. Digit offered, what now filled Howard's vision was a bronze road that gently sloped upward. Following its path, he found himself looking far beyond the titanic hand and once more gazing at the far-off moon of his daughter's smiling face as she beckoned him to board.
More than ready to disembark, he quickly found the latch for the gate that rested to his side before pushing it open and casually strolling forth and right off the platform, allowing the gate to shut and relatch behind him. He even thought he heard a few gasps behind him as he hit the sudden drop, though the concern was misplaced. The falling distance was only a Beta foot, and even then...well, the soft floor that awaited him was nothing to fear, after all, and he landed rather gracefully upon his daughter's ridged fingertip. Eyes still focused on the warm digit he now stood upon, he gave a casual wave upward.
Signal received, the digit he occupied went on the move. Undocking from the receiving balcony, it began to rise. Careful and considerate beyond measure, with all the grace of her mother, Claire's finger rose with her body. Every movement, despite the scale on which it occurred, done at a comfortable speed that allowed Howard to stand amid Claire's swirling fingerprints without issue even as he was elevated hundreds and then thousands of feet upward. Higher and higher, with Claire's gently smiling face still gazing down upon him.
It didn't take particularly long her him to rise above her torso, level with her neck, and then he kept rising. As he continued to ascend, Claire's face - now encompassing all that he could see - began to turn, and it did not surprise him. Instead, he simply prepared himself as he continued to rise.
"Missed you, Daddy," his monolithic daughter boomed with affection that matched her enormity, but with a softness that most assuredly did not. And as the words met his ears, Howard found himself reaching the destination Claire had intended for him. He welcomed the feeling of the only embrace they had ever known as he was pressed with utmost love and care into the veritable tanned field of his daughter's soft, warm cheek. He didn't fight back as the press knocked him onto his back; there was no point, no reason for him to do so. Instead, he simply welcomed being sandwiched between finger and cheek...welcomed being home again, as he began to affectionately rub at his daughter's skin.
"Missed you, too, sweetheart."