Just a Few of Us [Open to Multiple]

[andhiswife]

If it was just the one baby, Greta suspects it would be easier than it had been at home. She doesn't have to balance childcare with running a bakery, and her apartment is too newly-settled (and little-trafficked) to require anywhere near as much cleaning as a shop. And if ROMAC hasn't provided her with much in the way of human aid - there is a nursery she can bring them to when necessary, but it's busy and noisy and a few of the children there have alarming Rift enchantments to contend with, so she treats that as a last resort - at least they've given her all the material things she could need.

(It both helps and distantly rankles that she's used to doing the bulk of the work herself, anyway.)

Two, though. Two are a literal and metaphorical handful. She often finds herself thinking it's just as well the Witch only promised them one, for both their sakes, and then just for his, and then she has to stop thinking about it. So perhaps it's just as well that she has two to distract her, now.

The poor, motherless things. If they're really motherless. She should stop thinking about that, as well, if only because she hasn't the first idea how to track down their parents if they are here, and it's not safe for her to reach out to those who might be able to help her. Maybe they are orphans. Either way, the best use of her time and energy is giving them the best possible care, so... that's just what she's going to do.

Alone, if she has to.


[ooc: so, Greta's gonna be watching these two tiny babies for about a week and presumably is not going to have much time for anything else, poor woman. But she'll almost certainly welcome visitors unless you're an emotion-nomming creep! If your character can finagle their way into the ROMAC base, feel free to have them drop by her apartment. If you can't realistically get into ROMAC but still want in on the baby-related redonkulousness, drop me a line and we can finagle a way to get her out into the Park or something.

Also, since this could take place at any time over the course of a week, just pick your date and put it in the header of your top-level for reference.]

Comments

August 31 (Saturday)

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad's behavior has been, perhaps, mildly suspicious. His visit to Rush did not necessitate a day of sick leave in order to recover thanks to a fortuitously placed mugging attempt, but he was still haggard the next day following those repeated applications of invisibility and intangibility. He is not entirely satisfied as to the extent of ROMAC's plans, but it has begun to occur to him as he digs through what records are open to him (little realizing that the computer network tracks his electronic behaviors) that he may have reason to attempt to better ingratiate himself with his employers.

He is useful. He is non-disruptive. They should have no reason to act against him.

To be sure, he will make himself more useful, and he will aid ROMAC in stifling someone who is disruptive. Asadi is still at large, and of the two intruders she is the more dangerous, that he knows from personal experience. It does not take much work to uncover one person with a definite connection to the missing woman, nor to discover her location. Rashad turns up on Greta's doorstep on his first day off of the week, knocking primly on the door.

[andhiswife]

Now that she's had Abigail and Beatrice for a few days (are those even their real names? there's another thing for her to try not to think about), it's easier to soothe their inevitable fussing - both because she's better at translating their cries and because she's no longer a stranger to them. Abbie, the more restful of the two, has been asleep for almost an hour when the knock comes. Bea is well on her way, but the unexpected noise causes her to grizzle unhappily into Greta's shoulder. Tsking in annoyance, Greta hustles to the door as quickly as she can without jostling the infant into further complaints, then opens the door before whoever is outside can knock again.

... Oh. It's him. The man who hurt Rush at the party, who takes people's emotions. Rashad, wasn't it? Greta frowns up at him in general disapproval and weighs the odds of him knocking again, more forcefully, and rousing both infants if she were to just shut the door in his face right now. She wouldn't put it past him. And what if he were to attack her? Little as she likes the thought of being polite to him, she can't risk being rude, either.

After a moment's consideration, she decides to start with a coolly unenthusiastic, "Can I help you?"

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad did not expect Greta Baker to be a person he had met before, nor did he expect her to come to the door carrying an infant. He blinks down at her, briefly weighing the wisdom of fulfilling his original intentions in coming here against the option of simply leaving again. He did not intend to leave a trail by confronting a person who could identify him.

Ultimately, however, he decides that it's not likely she knows enough about him to call for immediate abandonment of his information-gathering efforts. "May I enter?" he asks, one arm already reaching up to rest against the door and prevent her closing it again.

[andhiswife]

That's not an answer to her question, and she glances at the arm he's already insinuated in the doorway in faint alarm. She has no way of preventing him from coming in, now that the door's open. Perhaps if she didn't have one child in her arms and another in the room... but she does, and she can't jeopardize their safety.

Surely he wouldn't hurt a child...?

Bea lets out another grumble, this time because Greta's holding her too close. She readjusts her grip on the infant, stalling for time, thinking. Her phone is on the table. She can't reach it without leaving him free to enter. There's a foot-long breadknife in the kitchen, too, but there's no getting to any of it without him getting in.

So. Let him in. Pretend to cooperate. Get the phone. The Balladeer is probably in the Park, but if she calls him out of nowhere and he hears nothing but a tense conversation between her and a strange man, he'll come. She's fairly certain.

"If you must," she says, taking a step back. Then, pointedly, "You didn't answer my question."

[omnomnom_feels]

He has alarmed her, however faintly. Such was not a core aspect of his intentions, but it may prove advantageous for her to be frightened. Fear has always garnered results from Rush, after all. He pushes his way smoothly inside, shutting the door behind him without bothering to lock it. He does not expect her to cry out and bring intervention from her neighbors; it is merely necessary that there be some measure of privacy.

"I am looking for Iman Asadi," he informs Greta, gaze locked on her face for her reaction.

[andhiswife]

There's something final about the way he shuts the door, though he makes no attempt to lock it. Greta edges backward, toward the crib where Abbie is still, thankfully, sleeping. If she can put Bea down, then she'll have her hands free, and she can do... something. Reach her phone, if he'll let her - but by the time she gets the children settled, he'll be closer to the table where it's resting than she is. Why didn't she go for the phone first?

His question jerks her out of her silent self-recrimination, and a sharp spike of worry lances through her. Does he know? Did someone see Iman leaving her room that evening? She could have told the woman what an unacceptable risk she'd been taking by lingering in the building, and now look, here's proof: Greta's being questioned by this... whatever he is.

Thank goodness she doesn't have an answer for him.

It's just a matter of whether or not he'll accept the truth.

"Well, you can see she's not here," Greta says in a strained attempt at nonchalance. Bea grizzles again, and she rocks the child absently as she furrows her brow at Rashad. She should pretend not to have any idea what's going on - that's what Iman had said, right? "And you can see that I'm busy," she adds with a pointed nod towards the crib. "Why are you asking me?"

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad follows about halfway, watching her comfort the fussing infant. His own thoughts are centered on the matter of how best to pry the information from her; he does not intend to hurt Greta or the children but there is no practical reason to reassure her of that fact. He glances around the room, noting the positions of the furniture and other items with disinterest; it doesn't occur to him to preemptively prevent her access to her communication device but she's right in thinking that he'll naturally take up a position relatively near the table.

"I did not expect her to be," he admits, attention back on the woman before him. "But it would seem you and she share a close bond. If anyone were to know her whereabouts, I would expect it of you."

[andhiswife]

That's an odd way of phrasing things, and Greta's frown takes a turn for the genuinely baffled. "We're friends," she says bluntly. "That doesn't mean I'm--I'm tracking her every move." That, she thinks, is more ROMAC's purview. Is Rashad working for them, she wonders? It seems unbelievable that he'd go to the trouble of sneaking into the building just to confront the one person who's deliberately not keeping track of Iman's whereabouts. And if he knows they're friends, what makes him think she'd tell him anything?

Bea's fussing at least proves useful. Greta has to keep moving in an attempt to calm the infant, so she starts to work her way towards the table, where her phone is resting. The Balladeer's on speed dial. If she can just pocket the device without Rashad noticing...

[omnomnom_feels]

She knows, he wants to know, therefore he goes to her for the information. In Rashad's head things really are that simple most of the time; after all he wanted to know why Rush was locked up, and asking Rush resulted in an answer, if an incomplete one.

"She is inclined to track your whereabouts," he points out. "Emphatically so, from my understanding."

[andhiswife]

Greta pauses mid-sneak, entirely thrown. What on earth is he talking about? She could imagine him guessing at their friendship - they did attend that party together, after all, and maybe he noticed more than his fraught state had let on. But now he's just spouting plain nonsense with straight-faced certainty.

"I--I beg your pardon?" she stammers, frowning at him.

[omnomnom_feels]

"Her messages," clarifies Rashad. "When she was unable to discern your location she sent a series of messages on the subject that expressed a great deal of urgency. That speaks of a close relationship; it is only logical to suppose that the two of you remain apprised of each other's whereabouts."

As he speaks he steps closer again, aware that she is still wary of him and supposing it may prompt her to respond.

[andhiswife]

Oh. He means that day with the curses, when Iman had been trying to find her. That only clears up some of her confusion, though. "Why would she have sent that message to you?" Greta asks. However worried Iman might have been, Greta can't imagine her asking Rashad, of all people, to look for her.

And then, oh dear, he's coming towards her, and towards the baby. She steps back and to the side, eyes narrowed, not allowing herself to be steered away from the table. "I don't know where she is," she insists, "and I--I think you should leave."

[omnomnom_feels]

Why Iman would send the message to Rashad is irrelevant. It would be simple enough to answer that the messages were sent to the public at large, but it is even simpler to allow Greta's anxiety to build. He draws himself to his full height, staring at her with slightly tilted head and an utter lack of facial expression.

"I will leave once you have told me where Asadi is," he says flatly. "If you do not know now, you are capable of finding out."

August 30 (Friday)

[singthesong]

After the Curse Incident, the Balladeer doesn't really see Greta for a few days.

This isn't on purpose. He isn't avoiding her. He's just going about his usual business - playing in the park, walking around the city, stopping in at a few of the bars and cafes he's started to frequent. It's good, it's fun - and lately, it's all started to feel a little bit pointless.

It's all Johnny's fault, he thinks, possibly uncharitably. Things around here are perfectly peaceful except for him, and that awful lingering noise he calls a past. He'd been able to put it out of his head for a while, but seeing him again in the Ramble has brought it all rushing back, and he just doesn't know what to do with it. Back home, it was easy. He hadn't had much of a life, but he knew what needed to be done and he could do it. Now?

He spends two evenings inside, holed up in his bedroom and hoping fervently that the walls are soundproof as he gathers all his instruments around him, playing chords and scrawling out notes. In all his time, he's never had to write any music down...but this is all rather new, isn't it? He wants to think that if he could just work out what it's trying to say, what story is trying to be told, then he would know what to do. Johnny must be dangerous somehow, but he doesn't know how exactly, and he already knows the man's easily provoked to violence. That's not a novelty either, but here the Balladeer isn't the only possible target for an angry outburst. Casual prodding isn't an option.

But it doesn't work. Nothing makes sense. It's not even real music! He ends up crumpling his papers in frustration - and then, struck by the thought of someone unfamiliar with story-songs hearing part of this one, he burns them.

The next day he wanders down to knock on Greta's door. Today, he's without any instrument at all. He hasn't gotten a lot of sleep lately what with everything, and for once he's not quite feeling up to busking. Maybe chatting with someone who actually knows what's going on, more or less, will help him iron this out.

Alternately, they could just not talk about Johnny at all anymore. That could be nice too.

[andhiswife]

Neither of the twins is as heavy as her son was, and even her son couldn't compare to a sack of flour, but her arms are still killing her. Bea seems to be the sort of child who isn't happy unless she's being walked back and forth, and it's been some weeks since Greta's regularly had a child in her arms. It's not hard for her to readjust to carrying a baby about - her body remembers - but her muscles have had a few weeks off and are worse for it.

Abbie, meanwhile, is starting to fuss in a way that Greta's fairly certain indicates hunger, which means warming a bottle without putting Bea down - or putting Bea down and dealing with the subsequent howling. What a day this is turning out to be.

She's half-expecting the knock that interrupts her one-armed fridge rummaging to be a ROMAC employee checking in to see how they're getting on. It's not, but it's also not an unpleasant surprise when opening the door reveals the Balladeer, instead. And he doesn't have any instruments with him, which means his arms are free.

"Hello - come in," she says with a warm smile, though there's a faintly calculating look in her eyes as she steps back to admit him. "Ever held a baby?"

[singthesong]

"Ah." The Balladeer's mouth hangs open for a moment as he takes in the scene inside the apartment. He knows Greta had a child at home, of course, who didn't come with her. Is...is one of these hers, then, or has she just acquired some children? He glances between the two of them as he steps into the apartment. "No?"

If his tone is faintly questioning, that's because he's very certain that he's about two seconds from holding a baby.

[andhiswife]

Oh, good. 'No' means he has no preconceived notions about his ability to do it correctly, and it might also mean he won't take it too personally if the child isn't entirely happy. "It's easy," she assures him as she passes Bea over. "She doesn't weigh much - this is Bea - so all you have to worry about is supporting her head, like this..." Greta makes sure he's got a proper hold of her before stepping back with a widening smile. See? It's not so hard.

"She likes to be walked," Greta says with a vague gesture towards the apartment's open floorspace, of which there is plenty. Her smile turns a bit sheepish - she did just spring a baby on him without any warning - and she adds, "If you wouldn't mind? It'd only be for a few minutes while I feed the other one. And she seems to like you." Fingers crossed on that, anyway. Bea doesn't seem to mind the transfer to a stranger so far.

[singthesong]

"Uh - okay." The Balladeer looks a little bemused, peering down at Bea with wide eyes as she's thrust into his arms, but he imitates Greta's grip without a fuss. He might not have any experience with babies, but he's certain he doesn't dislike them.

At her prompting, he turns to pace a slow circle around the apartment. As he moves, he bounces Bea slightly up and down, just because - it seems like something one does with babies? He's certain he's seen women do that with their children. "No, it's fine," he replies, keeping his eyes carefully on Bea rather than Greta. Yeah, she seems alright for the moment. "So...where did they come from?"

[andhiswife]

"The Rift," Greta says, hoisting Abbie out of the crib with some murmured reassurances before she can start fussing in earnest. She settles the child against her shoulder, then makes her way back into the kitchen to get some of this 'formula' warmed up. At least this has forced her to get to know the microwave a bit better, and she can't fault its speed compared to warming things on the stove.

It belatedly occurs to her that she didn't sound wholly convinced, and she adds, "That's what ROMAC has told me." A week ago, that would have been enough; now, she's not so sure. "And I suppose it's not impossible," she allows, frowning a little. It certainly wouldn't be the first time the Rift separated a baby from its mother.

But enough of that sort of thinking. She doesn't have time to mope, and she has company. Watching the Balladeer pace the apartment with Bea, she can't suppress a smile that's equal parts grateful and wistful. He's quite a natural (so how hard could it have been?). "Can I get you anything while the milk warms?" she asks. She can take care of all her guests, especially now that she has some help with the smallest ones.

[singthesong]

The Balladeer hums thoughtfully in the back of his throat. Does Greta not take ROMAC at their word? He supposes he would, but not because he actively trusts them. Truth be told, he's barely interacted with anyone from the agency since his arrival. He just hasn't encountered any particular reason not to trust them, and somewhat ridiculously he's still inclined to believe the best of people.

"No thanks," he replies absently. "I just...came by to visit, I guess. They just gave you two babies?" He's assuming Greta hasn't been petitioning them for Rift-children, so they just...what, knew she'd lost a child in coming here and assumed she'd be looking for replacements? How insensitive.

[andhiswife]

"They have a nursery, but it's a bit overcrowded, I think," Greta says as she removes the bottle from the microwave, checks the temperature, and screws the top back on - all with one hand; she's getting rather good at this. "They asked me if I'd be willing to help, and I agreed."

There is a sort of sense in it - they know she knows how to care for young children, and it's not as if she has any other occupation at the moment. Maybe it wasn't the kindest request they could have made of her, and the twins are hardly a replacement for the son she lost, but... she had missed caring for a child, and beneath all the general exhaustion and worry for the poor things, some part of her is rather enjoying it all.

As Abbie guzzles away, Greta turns her attention to the Balladeer, noticing for the first time that he's looking a bit worn, himself. What's his excuse? "How have you been?" she asks, her tone going for casual and not quite getting there. "I haven't seen you since that mess with the curses."

[singthesong]

"Fine," he replies, a little too quickly, shifting Bea casually to the other arm. "I've just been around." It isn't at all an inaccurate representation. What else does he do anymore except hang around? He sure as hell hasn't made much progress in his work - though strictly speaking Johnny is far from his responsibility.

"How have you been? Aside from, you know - " He nods towards the other baby in her arms. "It's no wonder I haven't seen you around."

[andhiswife]

"Busy," she says with a wry smile, glancing down to check Abbie's progress. She doesn't add 'stuck,' because she technically could get out more if she was less stubborn about avoiding the nursery. That's the problem with not entirely trusting ROMAC's motives in asking her to look after the twins in the first place: she can't trust the organization to look after them adequately when they're out of her sight, either. Maybe she has no business caring for them, but at least she is caring for them, and well. Who might they go to if they're not with her?

Besides, the 'stuck' part is probably obvious.

Also obvious: the Balladeer isn't as 'fine' as he says he is. She considers his vague description of his own activities, a pensive little frown on her face, then tries a different tack. "It's, er… not always easy to adjust to having so much freedom, is it? Especially after being so settled, back home."

She's talking about herself as much as him. Granted, she didn't hop through time and space the way he did, but her days did tend to follow a pattern. And sometimes the repetitive grind of it all had driven her mad, but having no set routine is just as bad. At least she's used to this steady progression from day to day, which is more than the poor Balladeer can probably say.

[singthesong]

The Balladeer smiles a little ruefully at Greta's description. Right, busy.

"I suppose not." He can be vague, but he's never really been one to hold his cards close to his chest. Balancing Bea on a hip, he comes back over to lean in the doorway of the kitchen, looking thoughtful. "I guess it's just starting to settle in that this is the way it is now." They'd told him, of course, that there was little chance of ever going back home. He hadn't even wanted to go back; he still doesn't. Still, he'd half-expected that it was going to happen anyway, because what else is there for him? Can they even get by without him?

Not that he's concerned for the assassins' welfare, of all things, but...well. It was his job. It was the reason he existed. And it's starting to become clear to him that all of that is over now.

It seems a silly thing to complain about, overall. It must be a lot worse for the people coming in from hundreds of years distant - or hell, for the ones who aren't human. He knows Earth, knows America, and is accustomed to handling different time periods. This isn't a far stretch for him. He's definitely much better off here than he's ever been!

He just. Doesn't exactly know what to do from here.

[andhiswife]

Greta hums in response, looking down at Abbie instead of at him. It wouldn't be very nice of her to adamantly insist that they're not truly stuck here and that they will be going home someday. She's seen what his life used to be like, and she doubts he's eager to return to it - nor does she want him to, given how unpleasant it all was. There's little doubt in her mind that he's better off here.

But she's worked too hard to build the life the Rift took from her, and she can't just abandon it with a shrug and nary a backward glance. This can't be all there is anymore; she can't be doomed to live out the rest of her days in this bizarre sort of exile. To sympathize with his resignation would feel like admitting defeat.

"Well," she says after a moment, "if you're ever at loose ends in the near future, I'm sure I could find something for you to do here. You're good with children." She nods at Bea, who's slumped and dozing against the Balladeer's chest like a squashed parcel.

Abbie clumsily shoves the bottle away with a grunt, so Greta sets it aside and shifts the infant back up to her shoulder, absently patting her back as she considers the likelihood of the Balladeer being kept up nights by nothing more than his uncertainty over what to do with himself. It's hard to imagine. He's usually so optimistic.

"Of course, childcare doesn't usually lead to more sleep," she adds, her concern growing more pointed as another explanation occurs to her. "You're not coming down with something, are you?" Would he know if he was? Has he ever even been sick? Greta crosses over to him so she can press the back of her hand to his forehead, but he doesn't feel feverish.