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 Posted: Sat Jul 03, 2010 3:59 pm
"She is staying v'ith the Carnegies, Quinn." Although gentle, his tone brooked no argument. Plus, like hell he was going to let Writ babysit his sister--
"I said you aren't staying here-" The waspish noise of an antagonized kitty leaked back into his throat, tail twitching as he finally had the wardrobe standing on the upper floor. "V'hy v'ould you v'ant to, anyv'ay? You are Writ. Master of himself. Go, be independent!"
Elsewhere. Independent, elsewhere.
"Yes, there. It is in the room. You know, you don't v'ear half of these clothes - you could donate them to poor Downers kids." Nag, nag, nag. "It v'ould be a good thing."
His head poked out over the railing as he leaned on it, looking down at Quinn as he hovered between the living room and kitchen down below.
"Processed," he explained, as patiently as a saint, "means that if there are more than two or three ingredients on the nutritional information section that you do not recognize, then it is processed. If there is more sodium in a single serving than your body needs for a v'eek - it is processed. And bad. Bad, bad, bad."
You had to repeat to reinforce new information with children.
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 11:48 am
"Relax Vale, I just need somewhere to crash for a couple weeks, I'll find a new place before you know it." Writ put the stack of semi-solid pancakes on the kitchen table, "Besides, if any weird stuff happens, I'd like to be with people that I know can handle it."
Him, Vale and Quinn were probably the most solid alliance currently in the game. They didn't get along at times, but they haven't killed one another over it, and considering their situation, that was saying a lot.
"Oh, and you're out of coffee, by the way."
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Posted: Wed Jul 07, 2010 10:42 pm
"Hear that? A new place before you know it. Great idea. We'll be fine." And Quinn nodded. "Weird stuff can be dangerous without a manly man around, like Vale." He marked 'coffee' on the list.
"And fine, Vale. But I am allowed to visit her, right? I mean...she's my favorite little girl!" He looked pleadingly at Vale.
"Correction, I don't wear ANY of those clothes. That's my mother's wardrobe. But I can't throw them away, that would be like spitting on her grave. And Downers kids don't want granny panties and sequined jackets."
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Posted: Thu Jul 08, 2010 1:12 am
A low groan rumbled out of his throat as, finally, he capitulated, exasperated.
"This is definitely the v'orst idea, ever."
First Quinn, now Writ. Despite the fact that he had set up a perfectly good safehouse in Downers, both were intent on being firmly ensconced in his home.
"For the record: I hate you, both," he grumbled, pulling away from the railing to thump back down the stairs and into the kitchen, giving the impromptu pancakes a wide berth.
"You may visit if Seamus says you can visit."
Valeriu's revenge-play. He took a vengeful sort of glee in imagining Quinn attempting to coerce the location of the Carnegie home out of Seamus, much less getting his permission to visit Sydni.
"There. Moved in." He glared, steadily, at Quinn.
His mother's wardrobe.
"I only ask that you guys stay out of my father's study, alright? Many delicate things in there, not for the likes of fire-starters and clumsy people."
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