(no subject)

[balletrat]

*Meg is sitting at a table in the bar, engaged in several tasks:

a.) attempting to feed the baby in her arms with some sort of pureed baby food, provided by the bar

b.) keeping said baby from wiggling off her lap to go exploring under the tables

and c.) rather frantically paging through a book on child care in front of her, whenever Derry stops squirming long enough to allow her to use one of her arms.

Derry, meanwhile, is engaged in one task: becoming the universe's foremost artist in the medium of pureed baby food.

Hey, everyone needs to have a dream.*

Comments

[ash--evildead.livejournal.com]

"I think she missed a spot."


[ooc: May have to slowtime due to early wake-up time tommorow, but eh, what the hell.]

[balletrat]

- great, *Meg says, glancing up slightly hysterically,* remind her, why don't you -

[OOC: *grins*]

[ash--evildead.livejournal.com]

"Looks like you could use an extra hand or... four."

He watches the happily squirming baby for a few moments.

"Who is this, anyway?"

[balletrat]

Ten? *Meg says, hopefully.* Ten is a nice number -

And this is my cousin Derry, *she adds, and pokes the baby, who really doesn't need the encouragement to squirm more.*

Derry, say hi?

*Derry blows a spit bubble, obediently.*

[ash--evildead.livejournal.com]

He chuckles a bit.

"Hey, kiddo.

I was gonna say, you don't really look like the kid-having type. 'Course, most people say I don't either, and I've got one on the way in a couple months, so who knows."

[prydeful]

Kitty?

Is smirking.

Smirking so much.

Kitty remembers trying to feed Derry.

Smirk, Kitty, smirk.

[balletrat]

*Meg aims a glare Kittywards.

- and then hastily returns her gaze to Derry, because taking her attention off of the baby is dangerous. As she has learned.*

Next time, it'll be you, *she says, darkly.*

[prydeful]

"It was already me," calmly, waving at Derry a little. "Hi, sweetheart." And then Kitty looks up at Meg.

A grin, this time, instead of a smirk. "And hi, Meg. You look like you're having fun."

[balletrat]

- okay, point, *Meg says, and makes a face at Kitty.* But you're, you know, older. And, like, responsible and things.

Remind me, *she adds, a little despairingly,* never to try to be responsible around members of our family again?

[prydeful]

"I thought you were older, oh ye born in the 19th century," still calmly.

She's been taking lessons from Moiraine.

Except not.

"What happened?" Not laughing. At all. "And do you want me to hold her so you can, um, get carrot off your face?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/]

Smeagol wanders over, frowning curiously.

"When did you get one of those?" he asks, eyeing the baby.

[balletrat]

Not mine, *Meg says, hastily, lest there be any misunderstandings here.*

She's my cousin. Derry. Derry, say hi -

*Derry throws some mashed carrots.

Which is probably the equivalent.*

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/]

The carrots would hit him in the face, but he's quick and ducks.

And, because Derry started it, he scoops up a bit of the mashed carrot and puts it on Derry's nose.



What?

He had lots of cousins, once. They loved that.

[balletrat]

*Derry giggles, in a gleeful fashion; for the next few moments, she remains occupied in poking at her own nose.

Meg, meanwhile, maintains her long-suffering air, and says,* Salut, Smeagol.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_fisshes/]

Smeagol wipes the remains of the carrot on his jacket and grins.

"Other than stained, how are you?"

[blue_ajah]

She is sitting at her usual table, tea at hand and thoughtful expression on her face.

When she sees Meg, her expression changes, faint surprise becoming evident. Moiraine smiles, then, and leaves the tea behind in order to approach.

"Good evening, Meg." A beat. "Derry."

[balletrat]

*Meg glances up; a grin flashes onto her face.

It more gets added to the hassled expression than changes it, but it's an honest grin.*

Hey, Moiraine - Derry, you remember your aunt -

*Derry smiles serenely.

. . . whether this is because she remembers and is responding to 'Aunt Moiraine', or simply because she can, is one of those unanswerable questions.*

[blue_ajah]

"I expect that she may remember her uncle better," Moiraine says, "but we are acquainted, certainly."

She takes a seat near Meg, looking curiously at her. "You are looking after her for a time, it would seem?"

[balletrat]

*Meg nods, looking more than a little rueful.*

Er. I - well, Derry and me got sort of stuck in the middle of a family fight, is probably the best way to put it -

[blue_ajah]

She is abruptly more tense than before.

"A Family fight?"

[mnt_mike]

Happy Hour now over Mike is now on his way back to the suite, when he happens to spot Meg and...is that Derry?

"Hey you two, how's it going?"

[balletrat]

Hey, Mike!

*Meg glances up, with a grin, removing her attention from Derry for a moment.

This is probably a mistake.*

Long time no -

*Splat.

Derry's canvas in mashed food art just got a little larger.*

[mnt_mike]

"Long time no...what is that, strained peas? Long time no peas right back at you, Meg. Babysitting, I take it?"

[balletrat]

Carrots, actually -

*Meg raises a hand to wipe off her eyes, and squints.*

- no, wait, maybe that is the peas. They all sort of got mixed - and, er, yeah. For at least the next week, I hear.

*Hopefully:* Want to hold her?

[mnt_mike]

His eyes light up.
...
Well, not literally, since that would be wierd, freakish and wrong.

"Can I?"