Felix smiles vaguely. "Actually, no, though perhaps not for lack of trying. It's difficult when people come and go as often as they do..."

The ball taps him on the forehead, and though not terribly hard, Ryuga has his father's sense of dramatics and bursts rather immediately into tears.

"Powers..." Felix says with a sigh, and walks over to crouch by his son, brushing his hair away from his forehead, slyly affectionate.

"Those are not for throwing at other people, Ryuga. You should know better."