Jul. 21st, 2012

forgottenmother: ([Chibi] I have kid nao)
[personal profile] forgottenmother
[Sup, Wonderland? There is now a wolf pup gnawing on the comm device. She growls playfully as she shakes it and then accidentally tosses it into a wall. The pup then runs over to try again, but a bigger wolf takes her by the scruff of the neck and plops her down somewhere out of frame.

Ammy's face comes into full view as she gives everyone a doggy grin. Guess who's back, bitches?]
arrogantalloy: (A: 036 Coffee!)
[personal profile] arrogantalloy
[Tony wakes up at his desk, which no matter where he is is normal for him. He stretches  and heads to the wardrobe, where he pulls out a large coffee mug out and he clings to it as he heads to his bedroom to change into some clean clothes. He stops in the door way when he sees a child. No more than a year old, sitting in the middle of the bed.

He stares at it.

The baby stares back.]

JARVIS?

Sir?

That's a baby.

As always, sir. You are incredibly on top of things.

Why is it here?

My sensors didn't detect anyone coming in and leaving him there, sir. He seems to have just materialised.

In a weird pocket dimension, with wish fulfilment closets, and freaky mirrors. Then all of a sudden baby. You know, if I didn't know that horses could talk here. This would be disturbing.

It is still cause for concern.

Then you can concern yourself. Tell me if it cries or does something that it shouldn't be doing.

[Tony leaves the room and pulls the communicator out of his pocket, and turns it on to broadcast.]

Please tell me I'm not the only one with a baby here. Because I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be up for a paternity suit. Also, what do I do with it?
dashboardlite: (oh no he didn't)
[personal profile] dashboardlite
[Dean is balancing a baby on his hip in view of his communicator.

Balancing a baby on his hip, and humming Deep Purple's Smoke on the Water.

Like one does.

He's doing quite well, actually, though he isn't exactly surprised considering the circumstances. As a kid, he was pretty well-behaved, always did what mom and dad told him to, only ran his Hot Wheels cars into the walls sometimes.

Currently, his toddler self is blowing spit-bubbles while Dean reaches for something on the top shelf in the kitchen, retrieving a bottle of liquid that looks like milk formula.
]

...this is the stuff, right?

[The baby squeals and claps his tiny, pudgy hands.]

Yeah, okay, okay. Hold your horses.

[Breakfast is served, little man, by the best babysitter these parts have to offer.]
redhourglass: 2thousand3 (sometimes i am haunted)
[personal profile] redhourglass
[When coworkers throw out adjectives to describe Natasha Romanova 'motherly' usually isn't one of them. Children aren't her forte and she normally avoids them like the plague - they're .. sticky, they cling, they ask stupid questions and stick their noses into things that shouldn't be meddled with (who does that sound like?) and -- she can't take care of a child and do her job correctly.

Imagine her dismay when she woke up on her third day in Wonderland with a toddler who looked like her miniature curled up next to her. At first, she thought it was a practical joke.

A full twenty-four hours later, it'd become abundantly clear that no one was joking and that taking care of the brat girl was her responsibility alone. She'd set the child down for half a second so that she could take a shower and off the baby had toddled to go and scrape her elbow - leaving Natasha with an identical scrape. That was no joke, and didn't make any sort of logical sense.

Neither did the fact that the kid had been screaming non-stop for the last 30 minutes, despite being fed, changed, bathed and rested (none of which Natasha was). Out of patience, out of her mind, she did the only thing she could think of, the only thing she thought might work -- she began to hum and after a few minutes, she actually began to sing quietly and in Russian.

She didn't notice that her video was on.

It wasn't a fancy song and her voice wasn't good, necessarily. It was obvious she didn't sing a lot. At first, she could barely be heard over the wailing of a very, very displeased redheaded toddler who Natasha struggled to hold in her arms, awkwardly trying to keep from dropping her. But as she kept singing, louder, the toddler slowly began to quiet and then coo, settling in her arms and eventually dropping off to sleep.]


Ahh.. finally...
blahblahblahblah: (that... doesn't look good)
[personal profile] blahblahblahblah
[ Hey, Sam. Did you think you were continuing a conversation with Dean? Because... well. ]

-- I think he might head back in there. He seems to like the kitchen.

[ There's a heavy, tired sigh. ]

I swear, I just looked away for a second. I definitely wasn't this much of an escape artist.

[ He says, though he has little to no idea. ]

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