#maraudlin

“I was starting to think I was going to be drinking alone tonight,” Mary commented idly, a bit teasingly, as she took a quick shot. Usually she stuck to wine-- occasionally rum and coke-- but it had been a long day. As soon as Joseph got home, she had made it clear that he was in charge of dinner. It was the least he could do after she got up with Crish six times last night. Six. Poor thing had a cough and he scared himself awake every damn time. 

Not to mention she was pretty sure Joseph was running around on her. Again. 

[MSG || ROBERT] Hey, neighbor! Think you could help a guy out?                                My car may or may not be broken down...                                And I may or may not have the kids here with me.

Stood at the side of the roadway, he flashes his teeth at Chris in the front seat and gives his son the thumbs up, trying to check if everything’s good in the car while he gets some help. As usual, his eldest is totally unhelpful and responds only with a nonchalant shrug, rolling his eyes at their father as he stares out of the passenger side window. 

Fine. Be that way, kiddo.

[MSG || ROBERT] ...                               Um. Actually, ALL of those things are true!                               I have no idea why I worded it that way to begin with.

Joseph moves closer to the car as he types, peering over his phone to cast a glance into the back seat. The twins are beating each other in the face with their toys, and poor Chrish is stuck between the two of them, looking altogether lost in the chaos. Things could get ugly if one of their hands slips and-- 

Oop. There it is. They hit the baby. Great.

[MSG || ROBERT] Look, we’re a little bit stranded at the edge of town and nobody                                else is picking up the phone and the kids are tired and hungry                                and on the verge of a meltdown and oh god please just help me!!                                ~Joseph

He puts his phone atop the roof of the car and swings open the back door to confiscate everything in an attempt to cease the violence, but he’s instead left with three screaming children and one very annoyed son in the front, unable to do anything but cover his ears and sulk.

i’m cry

“Um, sorry”, Molly says, standing up quickly with a slightly guilty expression, immediately a little unsure of this man because he looks so ... bad. Like someone who’s in a gang, except he’s not a teenager. He’s kind of old.

But the dog - she assumes it’s his dog - is really cute, and still rolled over from where Molly had been giving her belly rubs, and also now looking at her like she’s asking her why she stopped.

She shrugs a little, in apology, looking up at the stranger. 

@d--bloodmarch @maraudlin