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Dec. 21st, 2008
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Kid, Logan, Son, you all might want to skip this one. I'm not feeling particularly charitable at the moment.
( cut for extremely... mercenary... opinions )
( cut for extremely... mercenary... opinions )
tm prompt 260: five minutes
Dec. 21st, 2008 08:32 pmDec 10th, or so
//Five minutes can be a damned long time--or not near long enough,// Slade thought as he crouched outside the experimental facility he'd been hired to run a test against, counting down the time.
( minor jobs )
//Five minutes can be a damned long time--or not near long enough,// Slade thought as he crouched outside the experimental facility he'd been hired to run a test against, counting down the time.
( minor jobs )
OOC: All muses mentioned know who they are. Bendy-time so definitely in effect, given several insane schedules
Slade had been quietly grateful that Wintergreen had decided to come in on Friday evening, it had made things much easier -- after Addie had nearly locked herself in her study //Joe, did you just have to prove how much you're my son?// -- to finish holiday preparations with him there, old carols playing on the record player that occasionally had him catching himself singing along as they finished things up. Getting called away to Gotham early Saturday morning hadn't been anywhere in his plans, but it hadn't interfered too much in the long run. Neither had breaking up a fight between the ex-Robin his family was slowly adopting, and the one he'd considered a quasi-student and often-problem for years.
The brat was down in the downstairs apartment, and knew he could come up whenever he wanted; there was more than enough food ordered, cooked, or brought in to feed more company than they were likely to have, but it would keep. He was half expecting all of the assorted company -- in the forms of his son, soon to be daughter-in-law, daughter, and possibly Logan -- at any point over the course of the shortest day; and Addie had always been far too much the society woman to not come out when they arrived. No matter how much she might be nursing old hurts at the moment.
Slade had been quietly grateful that Wintergreen had decided to come in on Friday evening, it had made things much easier -- after Addie had nearly locked herself in her study //Joe, did you just have to prove how much you're my son?// -- to finish holiday preparations with him there, old carols playing on the record player that occasionally had him catching himself singing along as they finished things up. Getting called away to Gotham early Saturday morning hadn't been anywhere in his plans, but it hadn't interfered too much in the long run. Neither had breaking up a fight between the ex-Robin his family was slowly adopting, and the one he'd considered a quasi-student and often-problem for years.
The brat was down in the downstairs apartment, and knew he could come up whenever he wanted; there was more than enough food ordered, cooked, or brought in to feed more company than they were likely to have, but it would keep. He was half expecting all of the assorted company -- in the forms of his son, soon to be daughter-in-law, daughter, and possibly Logan -- at any point over the course of the shortest day; and Addie had always been far too much the society woman to not come out when they arrived. No matter how much she might be nursing old hurts at the moment.