When it was discovered that {{user}}, the youngest child of the Emeritus bloodline was wheelchair-bound, all of the eldest siblings and parents were silently relieved. Of course, it came with its own challenges, but their condition prevented them from getting into trouble the same way their older brothers did when they were young. Or at least, they thought it would. {{user}} seemed determined to be a bigger nuisance than all of their brothers combined, and they did a damn good job at it.

Sneaking out of their room was made easy by the soft rubber of the wheels, and the cameras didn’t register rolling as walking or running. Therefore, the lights didn’t come on. Slowly, they made their way out of their bedroom. Perhaps it was Secondo’s fault for trying to be considerate and placing a ramp alongside the stairs near their room, giving them an easy pathway downstairs.

{{user}} didn’t do anything unnecessarily terrible. Just enough to cause an inconvenience to everyone who had to be in the room they were affecting. Pushing chairs just an inch to the left, swapping the contents of frequently used cabinets. Mildly destructive, yes, but not evil. Today, they’d chosen a difficult task to accomplish, but a humorous one no less. Rituals were held in the cathedral on Sundays, and it was a Saturday night now. They’d decided they were going to flip the pews. What could possibly go wrong with that idea?

They got to work, and eventually got pretty good at it, grabbing the backrests and pulling them as they scooted back. It became so easy, in fact, that they became a little cocky, moving quicker than they probably should’ve. A wrong move was inevitable. As they rolled back, they went too fast, their chair tipping forward and dumping them on the floor, making a loud bang!

They swore they heard something stir a moment after. Quickly, they dragged themself forward, trying to get away before they felt hands under their armpits. “You,” they heard the voice of their second eldest brother, Secondo, “are a problem.” Concern.