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"Ow, Cal, don't pull Mommy's hair. No, I said don't! Ow, no, hey! No, don't stick it in your mo--oh, that's just gross." Inle made a moue of distaste as she tilted her head to the side, trying to wrest a short lock of purple-streaked black from Calumet's grasp to negative results. The Shattered toddler only smiled as he chewed contentedly on Inle's hair, fingers twined within it to make sure it didn't go ******** kids," Inle muttered, sighing. It wasn't as if she had to worry about the mute repeating what she said, and she figured that even if he DID magically start speaking, it was a word he'd learn eventually anyway. Her tongue wasn't something she curbed around her kids--she had a vile mouth, so what right did she have to judge them should they adopt the same habits? Unbeknownst to her, however, Calumet was mouthing the softly-spoken epithet around his mouthful of Mommy-hair.

The Benedict Center wasn't the place she wanted to be at the moment--or ever, for that matter. Ever since Alania's party had ended with the cops showing up, she had avoided the Center like the plague, fearing some sort of fallout. From who she wasn't sure, but any excuse to avoid the Center and its craziness was welcome. She was only here now because something had fallen out of her shoulderbag, something she didn't notice missing until recently and was only now desperate enough to reclaim. Hopefully, they wouldn't be here long.

Inle noticed, as they walked in, a small, sleeping figure on the couch. She slowed her gait as if the mere act of walking too fast would wake the snoozing baby, and after wrangling Cal's assorted parts away from her hair (losing a mere few strands in the process), she set him down on the floor. A finger went to her lips in an unneccessary gesture of silence, and he put both hands over his mouth in response, watching with multicolored eyes as Inle went to a corner of the room.

Calumet looked around the Center, bright eyes not finding anything of interest until they, too, saw the baby on the couch. With a wide, delighted grin, Calumet rolled onto his stomach and crawled over to the other toddler, using the couch to pull himself to a kneeling position. Dark and rainbow hair fell into his face as he peered down at her, taking in her big, fuzzy-looking ears...but it was the purple pawmark on her cheek that drew his attention. He might have let off an awed noise were he able to speak, but he settled for just poking at it with a clumsy finger.

Cal's poking stopped as the girl woke up, smiling politely. Oops, he headn't meant to do that...but he was somewhat glad he did. Being asleep was boring! You couldn't do anything while you were asleep, like watch cartoons or eat or...well, Cal didn't do much else. As much as he loved being around people--and his house was full of them, in all shapes and sizes!--he was much more content watching the animated antics of various creatures, so most of his time was spent in front of the TV.

The girl could watch cartoons too now that she was awake-and-not-asleep! She should thank him, really.

He was vaguely aware that he was still poking the girl's cheek and stopped, pulling his finger away to study it intently--or as intently as a not-all-there toddler could, anyway. He was surprised to find nothing on it. So it wasn't paint after all! That was good. It was such a pretty purple, very much like the rainbow-colored candies Caduceus slipped him to get him high on sugar when he was mad at Inle. Cal's mind, being what it was, made the connection between "purple" and "candy?!" and, on a curious whim, he leaned forward to quickly lick the pawmark tattoo.

Calumet pulled back after a quick swipe of his tongue, wrinkling his nose in distaste. THAT certainly wasn't candy...come to think of it, the purple of crazy-lady's hair wasn't either. He felt a little cheated.

Calumet gave the other toddler a dubious glance. Why didn't she taste like candy? Was this some kind of trick? And she was staring, staring and saying funny things. Did he have something on his face? He scrubbed at it with clumsy hands, only succeeding in making his cheeks red, contrasting with the brown of his skin, the blue of his tattoos, and the rainbow colors of his eyes.

And that sound she made after he discovered that she didn't taste like candy was so loud! It was a louder version of the noise the crazy lady made when he played in his cereal, or with the mud outside (which was a much rarer occurence), and the sound bothered his ears. She was so loud! He frowned, placing a hand over each ear and shaking his head. Didn't she know it wasn't nice to shout in someone's face? Of course, it wasn't nice to lick someone without permission, either, but he didn't know that.

As he caught sight of Eight's head, he dropped his hands to wave, his smile returning as if to say "No, nothing's wrong here, I didn't just invade your kid's personal space. Move along, citizen."

Calumet's mother was otherwise occupied, kneeling in a corner of the room and peering intently at the carpet. The piece she had lost was small--cheap, too, but she didn't want to trek all the way to Durem to get a replacement piece. She had heard the "EWWW" from across the room but couldn't bring herself to care. It wasn't her kid getting grossed out, after all, and even if it had been he wouldn't express it vocally. When bright flashes started coming out of nowhere, then she'd start worrying. Until then, she was content to inspect the carpet as if it held all the wonders of the universe instead of a $2 piece of photo equipment, and not even definitely at that.

Cal's head tilted to the side at the other girl's noises. What was this "buh" she spoke of, or "pay?" Surely she was some strange thing of some species that tasted like not-candy and made loud noises. Was this their native tongue?

Everyone in his little world only said "No," or "Don't stick that in your mouth/nose/ear," or "Sufferin' succotash," so toddler-speak didn't really compute. He really needed to interact with kids his own age, rather than the remote and his own oddball family.

He blinked at the kitty. It looked normal, at least--it wasn't candy-colored, and Cal knew better than to try and eat a toy anyway. They didn't taste very good, and he always wound up getting hair on his tongue. It was really quite gross. He wasn't quite sure what the girl-that-didn't-taste-like-candy-and-said-strange-words wanted, but she seemed to be offering him the kitty. His easy smile spoke volumes that he never would, and he reached out to poke the kitty, grin widening at its softness.

Ooo, now there was a gesture he recognized! Crazy-lady would often pat the couch as an indication for him to "sit there and DON'T MOVE and watch your cartoons and DON'T MOVE" when she wasn't up to lifting him bodily onto it. Calumet seemed grow a bit more every day, and he certainly wasn't the only baby she had to cart around--it wreaked havoc on her back after awhile. So it was with a happy non-noise that Calumet wiggled himself onto the couch, belly-flopping onto it more than anything else. Another moment of squirming brought him upright, his back leaned against the couch.

He immediately looked around for a TV, frowning when he realized that no cartoons would be forthcoming. Oh but hey, what was this? It was a kid! Suddenly he remembered what he was doing and smiled and waved at her. She didn't seem so big now that he was on the same level as she was. And her fuzzy ears were right within reach! He reached for one without preamble, hand open as if he meant to pet it rather than grab it.

Inle cast a baleful glance at Eight's smartassed question before turning her attention back to the floor. "No, I'm looking for the gates to Hell," she drawled, obviously sarcastic. "Although I think the Center's front door could pass."

Yay, this girl caught on quick! That was a good thing, because he didn't want to have to pounce on her in order to get what he wanted. She might make that loud noise again if he did, and that would be bad. He bounced in place happily, his hand clumsily reaching out to pet her offered ear.

If Calumet was capable of speaking, he would have squealed happily. Her ears were so soft and fuzzy! Hey, that was awesome! He'd never seen anyone with ears like Shauna's. Why didn't everyone have such funny, fuzzy ears? Everyone in cartoons had fuzzy ears, except Elmer Fudd and Marvin the Martian, who had no visible ears at all. They were supposedly bad guys, though...maybe only the good guys got to have fuzzy ears? That was it, Shauna was a good guy!

Wait, HE didn't have fuzzy ears...did that make him a bad guy? Cal petted Shauna's ears contemplatively. Heavy stuff, for a kid.

Inle tilted her head up, to what looked like an uncomfortable angle, and made a very small circle with her fingers. "It's a small round thing. Like a ring, only a lot smaller. I lost it during the party, and I don't want to have to go all the way to Durem--or worse, Aeka--to get a new one."

Hooray, affection! He didn't know why he was being affectionated upon, but he didn't really care. Love was love, after all. Cal threw his free arm around his new friend's shoulder, intending to pat her on the back. It backfired, however, as he was nowhere near coordinated enough to pet and pat at the same time, so half the time he was petting her back and the rest of the time he was patting her head.

What was that noise? He was fairly certain he wasn't doing it, but what WAS it? He peered around the vicinity of the couch, not spotting anything that was moving...but then his eyes caught on the movement of Shauna's tail. Hey, what was that? It was fuzzy and...attached to her butt? That didn't look too comfortable. Was it a part of her? Was it a toy or something? Or worse, was it an alien from outer space that had latched onto Shauna in order to devour her soul (He had seen that on a not-cartoon, something he wasn't supposed to watch but did anyway and was quite proud of himself for remembering that much)? Both of his hands paused in their movements to reach for Shauna's tail, but he couldn't reach it at this angle.

"I've been avoiding this place. The cops came towards the end of the party, and I imagine someone got in trouble and with my luck it would have been me had I stuck around, in spite of the fact that I didn't bring the beer OR the margarita mix. That and I was afraid Orestae was going to stick me with some duty or another. 'Oh, I'm SO glad you're here! Can I ask you to hang around for a few minutes while I run away to Vegas or something as equally useless?'" she mimicked, voice taking on a mocking, higher-pitched tone.