lovemykilt | Loft above Luke's, Saturday morning

Entry tags:

au kids,
priestly

Loft above Luke's, Saturday morning

Priestly was sleeping in, today, thank you very much. Unless his housemate woke him up to demand breakfast, he wasn't planning on being up until well into the afternoon. He'd woken up long enough to note that he wasn't feeling crazy horny for the first time in a week and decided that that deserved a nice, long morning off from doing anything remotely adult-like or responsible.

The plan was doomed, but he didn't know that yet. The couch was comfortable, Dean was running the diner, Momoko was . . . doing whatever she was doing this morning, and all was right with the world.

[ooc: for a particular child, but also open for other visitors, including and especially the one who arrived last night, should she care to ping.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"And that's why we're gonna make her breffast!" Kayla chirped, not picking up what Priestly was throwing down. "But first I need to have my breffast. Or else I might steal theirs and that would be sad!"

For Kayla's tastebuds.

"And you just assumed your good old uncle Priestly a) lived in the town you happened to fall through a portal into and b) would make you breakfast. You know, people pay me for these services."

"Awww, you said that like you're not a total pushover," Jane said.

Kayla was starting to think that maybe she'd done something wrong. "Sorry," she whispered, looking up at him with big blue eyes and little droopy wings. "Alla other kids said we was going to the diner and the not-Unca Priestly said to go upstairs. An' you always feed me when I visit."

Oh geez.

"I'm teasing you, kid. Your uncle Priestly back home never tease you?"

"Not about food!" Kayla looked horrified. "He says that anyone that has to eat food Mommy might have prepared gets to eat whatever she wants!"

. . . Point.

"Well, maybe not whatever, you still don't want to kill your liver or anything."

"She's a kid, Dad, she doesn't need your nutritionist spiel." Jane patted a set at the table. "Come on over, kid, he's feeding you, he's just an ass."

Kayla hesitated. On the one hand, this girl kept using bad words and that one was about Unca Priestly. On the other hand, she was offering food.

...And then Kayla's stomach growled, putting to rest the endless question of food over principles as she rand over to the table and clambered up on the seat. But she did feel the need to point out, "Unca Priestly is very nice."

Because she had your back, Priestly. Your wonderful food cooking back.

"Who're you? I'm Kayla."

"Jane Priestly. Your cousin, apparently. I dig the wings. They some kind of biomechanic implant?"

If so, she WANTED SOME.

OH WELL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING!

"Hi, Jane!" Kayla said, waving with both a hand and a wing. "Cousins, yay! And a...what?"

She pulled on her wing and turned to look at it slightly, as if that could answer Jane's question. "I dunno. I just have 'em. Me, Nommy, and Daddy. Mommy doesn't have wings, but she has Craft."

Very helpful, Kayla.

"What, like she knits them?" Jane came from a pretty normal world, you'd have to forgive her.

It wasn't her fault. Kayla wouldn't hold it against her.

"Huh?" Head tilt of confusion, and then Kayla shook her head. "No, Craft." Because using italics would make it clearer, right? "Like magic!"

"Ohhhh. We had a guy work at the shop for a bit who was into magic. Then he made the cash in the register disappear and Dad had to fire him."

"I can make things disappear, too!" Kayla said, focusing on a fork for a moment.

...The fork stubbornly remained on the table, no matter how hard Kayla stared at it. Stupid fork.

"Well, I will," she huffed, folding her arms across her chest. "This summer, Mommy and Auntie J will teach me Craft."

"Sounds cool," Jane said. She covered the fork with her hand, then picked her hand up, and the fork was gone.

Not the smoothest slight of hand -- she didn't practice much -- but she was proud, anyway.

"Oooh, you have Craft, too?" Kayla asked. She was six-almost-seven. She was easy to impress. "Right! Cause we're cousins!"

No, Kayla. That wasn't how this worked.

It really wasn't. "Must be it. The cool definitely runs in the family."

Somewhere, Karla was having horrible shudders at the idea of her daughter making nice with Tish's.

"You should come visit Glacia," she decided. "You would have fun! Do you like horses?"

For more than just naked weddings, obviously.

"Horses are pretty cool," Jane said, far too grown up to squee about them the way she did when she was twelve. "My dad's friends taught me how to ride when I was a kid."

"Then you can go riding when we visit!" Kayla said. "And help me convince Mama and Daddy that I'm too big for a fat, stupid pony!"

"Only if you make your mom make me a pair of wings."

"I can do that!" Kayla promised, bouncing up and down. "She made a pair for her, so she could fly with us! Hers are blue! What color do you want?"

Because Jane's parents would be thrilled with this idea, yes!

Jane had to think abou -- "Black."

Okay, not so much.

"You'll look like you have Eyrien wings instead!" Kayla exclaimed. "They're not feathery like ours. My Unca Lucivar is a Eyrien. He taught Mommy and Daddy how to fly like falcons, instead of like bumblebees. I'mma fly like a falcon one day!"

"Works for me," Jane decided, though she had no idea what an Eyrien was. "Anything else would clash with my mad style."

"Why are you angry?" Kayla asked in a little voice. "Did someone wake you up too early? Mama gets grumpy, too."

Loft above Luke's, Saturday morning

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)