From Room 212 to the Salle, Saturday Morning
Lucille
She had gone to bed late last night, but Lucille had woken early anyway. It was a Saturday though, and she looked forward to a long quiet morning, enjoying a cup of tea and a book of poetry. Perhaps she would practice piano later, if she could have the rec room to herself, without anyone indulging in horrible singing.
Sipping from her cup, she turned a page, slowly taking in the melody of the words.
Cathy
There had been a portal in the park. That was one thing, though Cathy worried about evil magic often enough. It was not nearly as terrible as finding herself surrounded with other, louder children, and neither of her mothers in sight.
She was wearing a heavy frown as she made it up to the second floor, and began the meticulous process of checking rooms for--
Oh. Well. That didn't take long at all. "Mother?" she asked, peering into the room.
Lucille
Lucille jumped a little, surprised at being addressed by a child. Surely children were not allowed in the dorms?
"Are you lost, child?" She was looking for her mother, so she must be. "I'm afraid I can't help you."
Cathy
"I am not lost," Cathy said, shaking her head. "I was looking for you. And now I have found you."
She had her other mother's keen sense of the obvious.
Lucille
"Looking for me? Why?" Lucille rose from her chair, frowning a little. She knew no children. It must be a mistake. Perhaps she resembled the girl's mother in some way. This island was strange after all.
Cathy
Cathy sighed. "Because you are my mother," she repeated. "A plague of children is descending on the island now. My other mother said this would happen, and we should all be prepared."
Apparently, Mother had not come prepared. Sigh.
Lucille
Lucille now looked a little worried. Was the island going to force a child upon her? The girl looked very real, and not quite pleased.
"So," Lucille said, trying not to panic. "Who is your other mother?"
How did two women have a child? She must be an adopted orphan.
Cathy
"Cassandra don't-mention-the-middle-names Pentaghast," Cathy said blandly. "Can I come in?"
Lucille
"Yes, yes, come in." Lucille looked quite uneasy, but at least letting the girl enter would mean no one would accidentally pass by and notice.
"How... how can Cassandra and I have a child?"
Cathy
At least that showed some promise. Cathy snuck into the room before Mother would have a chance to send her away again. "You found me," she said, shrugging. "I don't remember. It was a long time ago."
She was hungry, but not inclined to mention it.
Lucille
Lucille still wasn't sure what to make of this, but perhaps Cassandra would know. She had been here longer, after all. The child was quite insistent, and even if she wasn't insane in some way, it was better to deal with this with her friend.
"We should find your other... Mother," she decided. Sadly for the girl, Lucille wasn't considering that children need to be fed. "What is your name?"
Cathy
"Catherine Sharpe-Pentaghast." Cathy did not see the point in talking around it, or even tweaking her mother when she already appeared out of sorts.
It was less about courtesy and more about avoiding bother, really. "What were you reading?"
Lucille
"That's a very pretty name," Lucille replied, wincing a little at the surnames. Perhaps the change of topic was a good thing. She placed her hand on the book she had been reading. "A collection of poetry. Do you enjoy reading?"
She really needed to get the child out of her room, though, and discussing books would not help with that. "No, tell me while we walk. I believe Cassandra will be training at this time of day."
Cathy
"Likely," Cathy agreed. She frowned at the book, but after a moment's consideration, padded into the hallway. "She was going to show me how to do an uppercut today," she added.
Lucille
"See? I'm sure she will honour that promise, once we find her." She smiled tensely at the girl while hurrying out of the room. "So, Catherine - or may I call you Cathy? - will you tell me more about this plague of children? I have never heard of it."
Cathy
"Cathy is fine." And something of a relief. It made Lucille sound more like the mother that Cathy knew.
"Cass," because they were talking about her specifically now, and 'Other Mother' sounded weird, "... says that every year, babies would appear on the island from the future to bother people. She says it is a strange magic."
That phrase sounded every bit as solemn as it should, really.
Lucille
Cathy did sound very much like Cassandra there, Lucille couldn't help to notice. "How strange," she said, for lack of a better response. "I hope you will find your way back." For everyone involved.
Moving swiftly down the stairs, Lucille had to stop and wait now and then for Cathy or catch up. She could think of no reason to ask the girl to hurry, though.
Cathy
Cathy did her best to keep up, tiny legs picking up as fast a pace as possible. She still had to scramble sometimes, though.
"So what were you reading?"
Lucille
"A collection of poetry by the English romantic poets. Do you know of them?" It was a trick question. Any child of hers would.
Cathy
"Coleridge, Byron or Shelley?" Cathy asked immediately. "Or was it Keats? I hate Keats."
Lucille
"You can't hate Keats," Lucille replied immediately. "But this is a collection. I was just reading Ode to the West Wind, but I should clearly make you read La Belle Dame sans Merci."
She wasn't allowed to hate Keats, even if he wasn't Lucille's favorite.
Cathy
Cathy let out the loud sigh of a small child who had had this argument many times and not-so-secretly judged Lucille's choices. "Noooo," she whined. "Can't we read Don Juan again?"
Lucille
"We can perhaps read it afterwards." If Cathy claimed to be her daughter she must at least learn to appreciate Keats. "I am being a lot kinder than my mother ever was to me."
Cathy
"Cass lets me read Don Juan," Cathy said. Because of course Cassandra did.
Lucille
"As do I, but only after you read Keats. And possibly Coleridge. The whole of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner."
One had to be strict with children.
Cathy
"Coleridge isn't so bad," Cathy said, after a moment. "Yes, mother."
She could accept Coleridge. "Is the training hall much further?"
Lucille
"Right here," Lucille replied, hurrying towards the door. She pulled it open and called:
"Cassandra?"
There was a plea for help in her voice.
Cassandra
Cassandra's sword buried itself in the arm of a dummy right as Lucille spoke. Her head went up and she threw the girl a confused look. "Lucille--?"
Cathy
"Mother?" Cathy was the one who replied. "You promised to teach me an uppercut today."
Cassandra
"Mot--"
Cassandra's eyes went wide. "Oh, Maker."
Not another one.
Lucille
Lucille flailed. She really did. It was something she had hardly ever done in her life.
"Cathy found her way to my room."
Cassandra
"... I am familiar with this," Cassandra said. "Though last time I was mercifully spared. I."
Pause.
"I did not mean that, I am sorry, child."
It wasn't quite flailing, on her end. Mostly. She'd already been through this once.
Cathy
Clearly she would have to put up with both her mothers acting in this way. Cathy sighed deeply. "I am not responsible for the magic that sent me here."
Cassandra
"Of course not," Cassandra said immediately. "I would never--" She cleared her throat. "...Let us do this somewhere else."
Lucille
"Breakfast, perhaps?" Lucille suggested.
Cathy
"I haven't had breakfast," Cathy replied. "We can do the practice after that, can't we?" She looked at Cassandra.
Cassandra
"Certainly," Cassandra said quickly. "Let us walk to the cafetaria. I'm certain--" She'd said certain again, Maker. "--We will sort all of this out over a proper breakfast."
Lucille
"A very good idea," Lucille replied, turning around. "Come along, child, we will make sure you will have breakfast."
She hoped Cassandra was right about the sorting out.
Cathy
"Good," Cathy said with a nod. "You really ought to be more prepared for things like this."
She was, in every way but genetics, her mothers' child.
[[ preplayed with the awesome crimson_sister. not the only baby surprise for cass today, la la. can be open for lucille, but i'm travelling so slow ]]