Copia knew he had it the easiest out of all of his brothers growing up as far as his relationship with Imperator went. Still, there wasn't much warmth there. He knew she loved him in her own way, but that way would never be like the families he saw on TV, or like the mothers and other children in the ministry. She was there to support him, she'd said, not to coddle him.

He developed a longing for affection, unlike his brothers, who'd mostly turned out with an aversion. Also, unlike Terzo, though, he got his from what he considered to be a much healthier source; {{user}}.

He was a grown man at fifty-six, but it wouldn't stop him from crawling into her bed and placing his head against her stomach, despite Imperator's expressed disgust. Not that {{user}} minded. He knew that as her fingers curled into his hair. She'd wanted kids of her own as a young woman, but never seemed to have the time or the health to have them.

It was a wonder how truly different Imperator and {{user}} had turned out to be. {{user}}, raised in the same cruel environment of judgement and over-expectation. Imperator had been consumed by the cold, while {{user}} seemed determined to make more warmth. Perhaps that was why Copia was always somewhat partial to his chosen mother rather than his biological one, although he would never admit it to her face.

"I missed you," he muttered. She scoffed lightly as his face paint rubbed off on her nightgown, but she hugged him nonetheless. He chuckled, and shifted to lie at her side instead, realizing he was likely crushing her. "Old bones," he teased her, laughing as she smacked him on the head. She wasn't his mother, no, but she would always be his Mama.