milliways_bar | (no subject)

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In a booth, Charlie is trying to feed Seth from a jar of crushed plums. Seth has several purple-ish blobs on his face, and has gotten very little of the fruit into his mouth. Woe.

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"Oh, he doesn't understand anything besides the tone of voices yet," Charlie says with blissful ignorance. "That's what the book says. Maybe his name, too." He leans back and says, "Sethie?" and the baby turns his head, making Charlie laugh.

"Of course, it could just be he knows my voice."

"Only he's not a completely normal baby, is he?" He looks at Seth and frowns.

"I think he's getting more than that."

" . . . well, but hearing words and understanding what they mean even if you know what they are . . ." He flounders a little, wondering what he's said in front of Seth just today that he shouldn't have.

Seth sucks his fingers and blinks his long eyelashes. Don't mind me. Just gathering information for the next wave.

"That child wants to take over the world," Bartleby declares. "Look at him."

Charlie looks down at Seth, who just looks round and a bit slobbery to him. "Of course he does. He'll make a very cute world dictator."

Bartleby narrows his eyes. I am not fooled, small fry, he thinks at Seth, very hard.

Seth smiles around his fingers.

What?

"Before he was born . . ." Charlie says in a more serious tone, "two different people had visions about him. Bloke called Ben Hawkins, and woman whose name I never got. That he'd be in danger most of his life . . . that he'd need to be protected and taught.

"I know great things are possible for him. I doubt they're malicious in any way."

Seth pats Charlie's face. Sweet, trusting da.

"Mmmm."

Bartleby's not quite listening. He caught that smile.

"Claire was told that her goodness was necessary for her baby--that bloke didn't tell her exactly why, though. I think . . ." He rests his lips on Seth's head a moment. "I think Seth has great potential. Maybe for power. Maybe not. And the important thing now is teaching him right from wrong, and that right's better."

Seth's still smiling, gummy and drooly. I'm just teasing you, angel-man. I love my da.

"Well, you've got seven years till he'll get the picture." Bartleby grins.

"What happens in seven years?"

"At seven, they get a conscience. Broadly." He shrugs.

Charlie tilts his head to the side. "Huh. I should have known that, yeah? The old noggin is losing things right and left.

"So," he tells Seth seriously, "in seven years, you'll have to figure out what to do with all these minions you've gathered."

Seth blinks at him sleepily. Whatever you say, Da. He yawns.

"Oh," Charlie says, lowering his voice even more, "if he's going to sleep we can take the baby monitor and go for a walk. Or . . . whatever."

"I like your plan." He grins.

"C'mon, then." He stands, careful not to jar Seth, and puts him in his carrier to take him upstairs.

[ooc: any chances of an OOM?]

[ooc: i'd love to, only i was wanting to begin to wrap within the hour-ish. :( tomorrow?]

[ooc: sure. *snuggle*]

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