RP: What do you WANT?
Who: Rita, anyone
When: Tuesday, Oct 23, late night
Where: Bedroom 2
Rating: TBA
Summary: It just won't be quiet.
Status: Incomplete
The baby was crying. Loudly. It took Rita a moment to register the noise, and a moment more to care. This was the third time in as many hours. Any other time, she might have just rolled over and let someone else deal with it, but whatever this spell connecting them was, it worked.
She cared. She worried. She felt responsible, protective. She rolled out of bed, feeling like death. Fucking Ministry; fucking baby.
She was too old for this shit.
He was screaming in his crib when she turned the light on, red face all round and distorted like some kind of strangely shaped tomato. How could something so small make such a godawful noise?
She checked the nappy (and hadn't changing that been fun without magic?), found him dry. He'd been fed a few hours before. Couldn't be hungry.
"What do you want?"
The wailing didn't stop. Ugh. She'd have to hold it. Reaching into the crib, she picked it up the only way she knew how, cradling the back of its head in the crook of her elbow and drawing it close. The siren stopped, but still it warbled. She shifted back as it tried to close its mouth around her nipple.
She rocked it in her arms, trying to quiet it. "God damn you, Big Brother. If you felt the need to remind me why it's important not to forget my potion, you've certainly succeeded, but I could have done without it. Really."
When: Tuesday, Oct 23, late night
Where: Bedroom 2
Rating: TBA
Summary: It just won't be quiet.
Status: Incomplete
The baby was crying. Loudly. It took Rita a moment to register the noise, and a moment more to care. This was the third time in as many hours. Any other time, she might have just rolled over and let someone else deal with it, but whatever this spell connecting them was, it worked.
She cared. She worried. She felt responsible, protective. She rolled out of bed, feeling like death. Fucking Ministry; fucking baby.
She was too old for this shit.
He was screaming in his crib when she turned the light on, red face all round and distorted like some kind of strangely shaped tomato. How could something so small make such a godawful noise?
She checked the nappy (and hadn't changing that been fun without magic?), found him dry. He'd been fed a few hours before. Couldn't be hungry.
"What do you want?"
The wailing didn't stop. Ugh. She'd have to hold it. Reaching into the crib, she picked it up the only way she knew how, cradling the back of its head in the crook of her elbow and drawing it close. The siren stopped, but still it warbled. She shifted back as it tried to close its mouth around her nipple.
She rocked it in her arms, trying to quiet it. "God damn you, Big Brother. If you felt the need to remind me why it's important not to forget my potion, you've certainly succeeded, but I could have done without it. Really."