Jono Starsmore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
apocalipped) wrote2011-02-12 12:42 pm
apocalipped) wrote2011-02-12 12:42 pm
Room 408, Saturday Morning
The dance? Had been nice. Nice in that sort of, 'I am here, I am not being particularly social, but I have a lovely date and I'm going to enjoy this, damn it,' kind of way that Jono was so good at. But that much social interaction was tiring, to say the least, and so he was absolutely planning on spending his Saturday in bed. And it would be great, and to hell with anything in the world that thought that he was going to be getting up, at least until late afternoon.
It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.
[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]
It was possible that Jonothon was slightly delusional, yes.
[For wee ones, roomies, whatever!]
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She cracked her eyes open long enough to process that ... there was a really hyper kid bouncing at Jono.
Exactly what she needed. Fucking kids.
... wait.
"You have a kid?"
Because he hadn't mentioned that, oh, ever.
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Look, this was news to him, too.
... Though not entirely surprising, perhaps. Even if the logistics kind of meant that he would have had to become a father somewhere around the same time puberty hit. Give or take. Jono was a late bloomer.
//I'm going out on a limb and saying 'Fandom thing,' here.//
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Congratulations, you're the millionth student! You and three friends will receive a toddler. Batteries not included.
George was going to decide that she was still asleep.
"That punch was way more spiked than I thought."
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By proxy. As you do.
//I think... this happened last year, sometime, as well. Just out of nowhere, a bunch of small children came by, all calling students their parents. Some made sense, some... not quite so much, really.//
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"Just ... random kids," she said. "Why the f---"
Let's not swear in front of the kid, George.
"How does that even happen?"
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Yes, Jono. Make a little more sense out of that, please.
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Just making sure she had this right.
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//More or less. I imagine there's some sort of lesson in here about abstinence after large social events or some such rubbish, but I think it's misfired just slightly if it thinks that I've been doing anything that could possibly result in this any time recently.//
Considering he still wasn't exactly initiating physical contact with people, and had pretty much thrown everything he had into not freaking out while Elizabeth had been crawling over him...
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Really, it was all a matter of perspective, right?
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"I'm ... not your auntie," she said, "and I live here. And it's way too early for this."
... hopefully, Elizabeth knew that Auntie George was not a morning person. Or a people person. Or, uh, a much-of-anything person.
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Oh.
Well.
"... Please?" she said. "Uh. Thank you?"
Some coffee would be fucking amazing. She was totally willing to try to be civil if they pumped her full of coffee.
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... It was hot, and strong, and black, so George would not particularly care much if the girl had magically puked it up. It was perfect, and she needed it.
Not as badly as she would need it in, like, five minutes, but let's hope the girl had more magical vomit and/or dimensional traveling at that point.
"So ... uh." And now to try to talk to people. Er. A very short someone she shouldn't swear in front of, who knew who she was. Um.
"Let's ... play a game," she attempted. "It's called ... it doesn't have a name. But we pretend that I don't know who you are, annnnnd you have to tell me and I'll act really surprised. It's ... a fun game. Really."
George was excellent with kids.
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It was early. This was the best she could do.
"So ... why are you, uh. Here?"
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