Nic Sawyer
October 18, 2021 8:56 PM
Knock Knock by Nic Sawyer
He looked at the item in his hands again. Pastel yellow. Soft. Unimaginably tiny. This couldn't belong to him. Well, it didn't, that was true. But he was holding it now, and that was plenty weird enough. He could hardly imagine an actual person fitting into something like this, never mind an actual person he had any connection to. It was empty yet, and that was a relief, but he didn't think it would stay empty.Maybe it would. Maybe she would tell him to leave. Maybe she wouldn't want him involved. Maybe she'd spurn the item and him and maybe incinerate it a fit of pique. Maybe try to do the same to him.
She was pregnant, after all, and he'd heard stories about pregnant witches.
He didn't think his mother would have given the thing to him though, if that was a likely outcome. He touched the little cutesy design in the middle of the yellow onesie, as if drawing courage from it. Even with his mother's foresight, though, he could still screw this up. If there was something to screw up. He wasn't sure. This was never supposed to happen. It had just been a one-time thing. (A one-time Thing that happened twice.) They weren't even dating, not really even friends, though she'd been closer to that than anyone else on earth was.
He wasn't exactly social. He didn't exactly like people. He didn't let anyone get close. He didn't talk to people if he could help it. She was just more persistent than most. She'd shown interest in his life. She'd gotten him to talk. She'd gotten him to laugh even.
She hadn't reached out to him for some months, and he hadn't thought much of it. She was busy. She had a career. She just popped in periodically with no set schedule or regular frequency. A few months was hardly the longest they'd gone without doing more than exchanging a few letters. That how he kept in touch with almost all of what passed as his friends: Letters. Letters were simpler, safer. They gave him time to think about what he want to say, what he wanted to leave out. They could be short with just an attached drawing. Letters were easy to hide if people didn't want to let on that they knew him, that they kept in touch with him. He could put them away and not think about them, or pull them out and remember if he was drunk and maudlin.
He hadn't gotten maudlin when he got drunk with her though. This was why he didn't get drunk around other people. He was apparently a friendly drunk. He apparently got more than friendly.
That was not something he discussed with his mother when she came by, bearing a gift-wrapped box that contained a soft yellow onesie, beaming happily, sounding so proud that she was finally going to be a grandma. (There had been some chiding in that tone, but it was on the length of time it had taken for him to give her a grandchild, not the fact that he had done so, and that had been almost more embarrassing than this whole situation in the first place.)
He didn't ask how Mom had known. He didn't want to know about any of the details that she had become privy to when it should have stayed entirely between him and the person who lived on the other side of this door. He hadn't doubted his mother though. He had never doubted her. If Mom said the witch was pregnant, and he was the father, that was the final word on the subject and there was no arguing with it.
The only question was how much of a father the mother would let him be.
He raised his knuckles to the wood in front of him. He hesitated. He wasn't a brave man. He had spent most of his childhood and adolescence deeply afraid of anyone finding out he wasn't what he tried to project, and this . . . this was very much not the image he wanted to project. He didn't want to be here. But between his mother and even the witch he had apparently knocked up . . . he was more afraid of his mother.
Knock knock.
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Nic Sawyer
Knock Knock
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Jhonice Trevear
October 18, 2021 10:03 PM
Who's there? by Jhonice Trevear
Oof. Everything was getting more difficult. Not just the moving around things either, Jhonice was finding it difficult to just concentrate on what she was doing. Where she would have once delved into a story and spent hours working on it until she thought it was perfect without noticing the time pass, now that seemed like a wistful fantasy. From the stories she'd heard, it was only going to get worse. She still had about two months to go yet? Something like that. She sighed, finished looking at her bedraggled countenance in the mirror and left the bathroom for the thousandth time today. Days when she didn't have to leave the house were very nice now, she didn't have to worry about appearances. The only ones who dropped by on occasion was Marissa or her parents.Marissa had been wonderful. Andrew had been mildly helpful. They had helped make some changes to her rather cramped apartment. It was better now, the kid would have a place. The slightest wisp of a smile passed over her face as her eyes passed over the miniature crib crammed delicately into the 'nursery'. It would be a small place, but it would be enough for now. Who knew what the future might hold. Resolutely, she tried to refocus on work. She had a story to finish and was rapidly running out of time before her deadline.
Jhonice made her way over to her desk and eased herself back into into her chair. Thankfully the kid seemed to have settled down since earlier. It was time to delve back in. She picked up her quill and began once more gracefully sliding it across the paper. This was how it should work, she could feel herself slipping back into her work, everything was flowing one more. The words came easily, bursting out, eager to find their way onto the paper... and then her quill zagged across the page as there was a knock at the door and the baby started moving about more than ever before.
Gah!! She nearly crushed her quill in frustration. What was it now!? Nobody was coming by today! It was supposed to be a calm work day! An impulse to throw the quill at the front door surged through her. Her thought to suppress it came only after she saw the instrument fall to the ground a bit short of it's destination. She pulled herself to her feet and began striding her way towards the door. If this was old busybody Mrs. Kashed from next door wanting to 'borrow a cup of something' just so she could 'check in' again and give all sorts of condescending 'advice'.... well... this may not be a good day for her. Huh. Jhon just noticed that she had also apparently picked up her wand from the desk when she got up.
As she approached, Jhon waved her wand at the locks on the door to unfasten them. So when she reached the entry way she yanked it open, wand poised to do something at bare minimum embarrassing to Mrs. Kashed, and nearly shouted out , "What do you w..." her voice trailed off a moment when she saw who was standing before the door. "..ant?" she finished a bit dazed. What was he doing here? Why was he here? How was he here? The picture of herself in the mirror flashed through her mind, and the door was slammed shut again once more before she realized what she was doing. True she'd never been one to entirely think through all of her actions, but this was starting to get absurd.
The question she had asked burned through her once again. 'What did he want? Why was he here?' Another question intruded, what in the blazes had he been holding? This was so very stupid and wrong for him to be here. She opened the door again, wanting answers and wanting them now. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of motion, Mrs. Kashed had poked her head out of her door. She glared at the older woman, waved her wand to pull her visitor inside and then slammed the door shut. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" She asked, emotion leaking out from every syllable.
OOC: Marrisa comments approved by her author.
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Jhonice Trevear
Who's there?
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Nic Sawyer
October 21, 2021 10:19 PM
A herd. by Nic Sawyer
The stories he had heard about pregnant witches were apparently on the nose. Jhon opened the door in a right fury, recognized him, and slammed it back in his face before he could so much as say a word. He opened and closed his mouth anyway, because his brain hadn't gotten the message there in time to not bother. For a moment, he just stood there, contemplating the wood grain in front of him. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Go home? Try knocking again? Come back later when she was maybe in a better mood?This was why he made a habit of never leaving Iowa. First time he tries visiting someone else's home, he gets a door slammed in his face.
Before he could try any option other than 'gape at a closed door like a moron', doors started opening. The first one was down the hall, but he didn't have time to react to that before the one directly in front of him was opening as well.
Retreat was no long an option, even though he was already starting to regret he hadn't attempted it in the moments he'd had the chance. Not only did he have to face Jhon, but he had to do it in front of a witness.
… Or not. Jhon yanked him inside before he could defend himself against her attack and the door slammed shut a second time, but now he was on the same side of it as the angry pregnant witch. This might be worse.
"I . . ." he didn't even know where to start explaining what he was doing here. He wasn't about to admit that his mother told him to come here. They'd been writing. He'd had her address for that, so at least he probably wasn't looking like a total creep who had dubious ways of finding out people's home addresses. But why was he here? How could he explain this? He couldn't just say he'd dropped in to say hi because he was Nic Sawyer and he never did that. He'd been a stalker at Sonora, but he'd mostly gotten over those tendencies. He couldn't say he'd seen her around and had wondered about the belly, because he never left his workshop and she knew that.
He was going to have to blame it on his mother after all.
"My mother is a seer. She said we had to talk." He held out the yellow onesie with the skateboard on it like it was some kind of shield. "She gave this to us."
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Nic Sawyer
A herd.
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Jhonice Trevear
October 22, 2021 10:25 PM
A herd who? by Jhonice Trevear
Nic looked flustered, and Jhon had no idea what was going on or what to do about any of this. He was here, at her apartment, and he looked just as confused as she felt. He started to answer, then stopped, and she could just feel the urge to go something to him surge through her. She just wasn't sure what exactly that something was, and that wasn't helping the situation! The last time she had seen him in person had been in his workshop a little while after she’d figured out her newfound situation. She’d debated at the time suggesting a third ‘One-time Thing’, since it couldn’t make the situation any worse. Figuring it would only make breaking away harder, she had decided against it. Since then she’d been very busy in the letters they’d traded. Now he was here, right in front of her again.Finally, after an agonizing eternity, he actually gave an answer. It didn't help. She just stared at him, processing what he had just said. Her eye may have twitched throughout the process. "Your mother." She began painfully slowly, accentuating each word, "Is a Seer." It was not really a question. That was just what she needed right now, another Seer in her life! As if the first one wasn't bad enough! Giselle at least avoided anything about her at all costs, which suited her just fine. Now? Now there was someone else who felt it necessary to pry into all the hidden corners of her life and there was nothing she could do about it! "Wonderful!" She exclaimed and threw her hands up in exasperation.
"I guess we have little choice then." Her tone was sharp, "Might as well make yourself comfortable." Jhon gestured towards the single loveseat in the crowded apartment as she turned away, doing her utmost to not pay any attention to the small, yellow thing that he held before him. A back corner of her mind was admiring it as cute and adorable and such things, but she didn’t dare communicate with that bit of her brain at the moment. That way was nothing but trouble.
Instead she stormed off to her office. The loveseat was the only real seating she had in the ‘main area’ of the apartment, and for whatever was coming, for whatever reason had actually brought him here, she thought she should have her own seat. Her office chair seemed to have gained a few pounds since she last had to move it, but the one advantage of the small apartment was that she didn’t have far to move it. Any suggestion from her guest that she couldn’t handle moving a mere chair would be met with an unfriendly glare. During the struggle she thought about the plans she had had, they were probably all getting flushed down the drain now. She did NOT like Seers.
Finally, the office chair mostly in the main area facing the loveseat, she sank into it. Sitting felt good, she closed her eyes and breathed a small sigh of relief. Nic was still there when she opened them. The kid was squirming about inside her again, could they somehow sense their father? Jhon pushed the thought aside, put her hand over instinctively over her belly and gave Nic a look. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
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Jhonice Trevear
A herd who?
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Nic Sawyer
October 23, 2021 12:01 AM
A herd we have some things to figure out by Nic Sawyer
Jhonice seemed to have about the same opinion of seers that Nic had. There was a reason this was the first she was hearing about his relation to one of them. He still hadn't mentioned his father was one as well. The good news was that his mother was the one who was much more annoying about it, so maybe she wouldn't ever have to find out. The bad news was that Jhon was probably going to start getting exposed to them. Mom had a bad habit of turning up.He sat where he was ordered. He tried to object to her fetching a chair but he was glared back into silence and his spot before he could do anything too life-threatening. He was starting to rethink his mother's position as the most terrifying woman in his life.
She dropped down across from him and asked a question he thought was fairly obvious. He gave her the benefit of the doubt - she was angry and pregnant and both of those were probably at least partly his fault - and assumed she wanted to know what aspects of this whole thing it was he came out of his workshop to discuss and figure out.
He opened his mouth in a few false starts, finding it wise to not to quibble over the words 'you' or 'want' or 'talk' in her question. Bringing up his mother never led anywhere good, as this conversation had already proven, and admitting that 'want' was not what had led him to her door could be construed poorly. And though talking about this was the farthest thing from what he wanted, knowing what was going to happen next was something he both wanted and needed.
So he asked that. "What happens now? How do you want to do this?"
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Nic Sawyer
A herd we have some things to figure out
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Jhonice Trevear
October 23, 2021 9:40 AM
*Obligatory Groan* by Jhonice Trevear
Jhonice waited. Nic seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts. In the meantime she kept her eyes on him and put her feet up on the coffee table, that felt a little better. Her gaze did drift to the yellow offering that apparently Nic's seer mother had gifted 'them'. It was yellow and tiny and of course it had a skateboard on it, the only thing that could ever seem to hold Nic's interest. A flare of fury burned through her. Was this some message from Mrs. Sawyer saying 'I know what you did, this kid is mine'? Was it some attempt from her to mark the kid so that Nic would pay attention to them? Merlin knows her own mother had enough to say on the whole situation. Dad hadn't said much, but she knew him well enough to know that he was at bare minimum disappointed at the situation. But this was HER situation and she got here making her own decisions and what did anyone else's thoughts matter? Who else's business was it? A full glower had set in and Nic finally got around to making words."Does it matter to you?" She snapped back. Again, there was part of her that cringed at the harshness of the response but she quelled it, if he really wanted to know she'd tell him. "Last I knew we were 'Casual acquaintances with extreme benefits'." The term had been tossed out after their second one-time thing and at the time it had greatly amused her and she'd found it fitting. Now... now it was still fine. Absolutely, nothing had changed on that front. "That's just fine with me," she continued with on air of someone that was trying to convince everyone that it was true. "I don't mind dragging you out of your obsession every once in a while with a show of skin and a few bottles of firewhiskey for a good time." She really didn't and for some reason she found herself inventorying her own stocks that hadn't been touched in months. But her gaze hardened as her eyes bored into his own, "That won't work with a child though. I'm not about to have this kid growing up with their father either ignoring them, or depended upon alcohol to interact with them."
Her eyes once more flicked to the onesie. "Plus there is your family." She was well aware that Nic's grandmother was the Matriarch to the Canadian Sawyers and while Nic himself didn't hold any position of great importance, she still supported him somewhat. If this came out, it could potentially cause some level of a scandal and that wouldn't go in Nic's favor. Who knew what that also might to do compromise her own position as a society writer in the middle of all these families and intrigues that cropped up. "My original plan was to raise the kid by myself leaving who their father was to be a mystery to the entire rest of the world. No one really needed to know, everything would be fine." It would, she wouldn't actually be raising the kid alone, she had a disapproving but still supportive Mom also Marissa. It would have been fine. Her anger was swept away by hopelessness. Now that plan was shot, Giselle would have never looked into it on her own and Marissa would never have encouraged her to do it. But no, Nic's mom of course had to be a seer and knew. Which means anyone else could know as well. She buried her face in her hands, doing her best to keep from openly weeping in front of Nic.
"So what happens now?" She fought to keep her voice steady muffled as it was through her hands. "I don't know, ask your mother." She wanted the comment to come out laced with angry sharpness, but it didn't it fell much closer to despair. She sighed, rubbed her eyes and looked back up at him. "What do you want?" A thought suddenly occurred to her and the fierce and determined countenance returned momentarily, "If you have any thoughts of some stupid proposal in your head, you can just forget about it. The answer is no, I am not marrying you right now just because of this." She ran her hand over her bulge and felt the kid kick at her hand as she did so.
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Jhonice Trevear
*Obligatory Groan*
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Nic Sawyer
October 23, 2021 9:34 PM
It's the internet's fault by Nic Sawyer
Nic let her get everything off her chest. He'd never really been one to interrupt people (or talk really) and he wasn't going to start when he was in the company of a pregnant witch. So he saved all of is comments for when she was entirely done. He did sit up straighter a few times in mild offense, and he flinched visibly at the dig against his mother, but he let her have her say. Nothing she said was wrong exactly, after all.He was unsocial. He didn't like leaving his workshop. He did get very focused on his work. Alcohol had been an integral part of getting him to drop his barriers enough for both One Time Things to happen. (Though a lot less had been needed for the second.)
It was good to know the starting point, what she had planned before his mother threw it all into the fire. That was helpful to know. It meant she didn't have any expectations for him, so that took the pressure off, made it easy to meet them.
He was about ready to start from the top, addressing each of the points she made, when her last comment jumped the priority cue. "I wasn't going to ask you to marry me," he stated for the record. It was also good to know they were on the same page there.
"What I want," he restated her question as a topic header. "This is open to negotiation," he added, so she'd know he wasn't demanding things of her. "But what I want is the chance to know my kid. If you want full custody, I won't fight you over it, but I can help. I know you love your work. My job doesn't have set hours, so I can look after them when you can't. Or if you just need some peace for a while, you can drop the kid off with me then, too. Or I can set up a room or a pair of rooms for you at my place if you think co-parenting will work better than trading off."
He took a deep breath, then stated the next topic header, "Other concerns." He paused a moment to organize his thoughts. "It matters to me. I, we, I know we said 'casual acquaintances with extreme benefits' but that was . . . you're more than that." He grimaced. He hated talking about feelings. That was how they had gotten that label in the first place. It seemed a lot less threatening than calling it anything else. "I don't people well," he admitted grouchily. "You're the nearest thing I have to a friend." He didn't say he'd missed her these past few months, he wasn't ready to expose that much, but that didn't make it less true. He didn't say his mother's unexpected visit yesterday was the first time he'd been in the same room as another person outside of business since the last time Jhon had come by.
"And I probably am going to make a lousy dad because I'm too, too, whatever it is that I am that means I need to have a drink to really let go, but I'm not going to need alcohol to interact with the kid. I'm not going to ignore them. Can't say I'm looking forward to diapers, or really anything about the infant stage, but it's not going to break me, and I can take responsibility for my actions, and be responsible for a kid in my care. I'm not going to make you bear all the consequences for something we both did. And I do kind of want to teach the kid to hoverboard and skateboard, and show them how to build one, and maybe even get them to think I'm a little bit cool." He ventured a small smile at her. "I mean, parents are, by definition, totally not cool, but I'd like the chance to try to earn that."
"My family," he stated the final topic header, and his grimace returned. There was nothing good about this topic. "My mother is going to be horrible. She is way too excited about this. I am terrified of what she is going to turn up at my house with next." He shook the yellow onesie like it was the dangerous warning it really was. "I guarantee this was only the tip of that iceberg." He sighed and moved onto the next person of interest, "I doubt my father will be a problem. If there's a gene for not saying much, or for disappearing into the workshop for hours, or for minding your own business, I definitely got those from him. He's not going to make a fuss or spoil my mother's fun." He took one more deep breath. "As for my grandmother, she's a lying liar with a history of redefining her family to fit what she wants it to be, and if she catches the faintest whiff of this, she will cheerfully tell anyone who asks after me that we are married, and she is just so happy I am finally settling down to start a family, and there is nothing either of us can do to stop her from doing that. Honestly, she's mostly going to be relieved that you're not some muggle who does tarot card readings over the phone. If she didn't disown my father for that, she's not going to disown me for this, as long as I don't try to correct the rumors she's spreading. Our advantage there is that I'm very low on the totem pole, and I live in the middle of nowhere in a different country, so I don't draw any attention to that lot, and nobody should be talking about me much anyway."
He let out another breath and ran his hand through his hair, mussing it. "So you've said what your original plan was. Do you want to make any changes to it now?"
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Nic Sawyer
It's the internet's fault
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Jhonice Trevear
October 24, 2021 2:49 PM
Oh really? That's what you're going with? by Jhonice Trevear
"Good." Jhonice replied quickly. She didn't want to get married. Right now, in this sort of situation. He didn't want to marry her either. So, that was good. Perfect. Everything was fine and wonderful. She wasn't wondering at all why he didn't want to marry her, or what he thought might be wrong with her. That would be ridiculous.Then he started rationally responding to every single little thing she'd said. Of course he started off with what he wanted. Naturally. Fine, well he did let her talk so now she could at least do the same for him, even if she was finding it infuriatingly more and more difficult to be angry with him as he did so. The first factor was the fact that he was talking extensively and to the best of her knowledge he didn't seem one bit inebriated. That was nearly unprecedented in her experience. As much as she'd like to jab in points here and there throughout his speech, she didn't want to break this roll he seemed to be on.
So, she did what she did for any interview, well at least her 'well-behaved' ones. She listened and took mental notes. The mindset allowed her to detach herself from the situation, now she was just interviewing some wizard who'd found himself in an uncomfortable situation. Unfortunately for some reason, it didn't work. Thanks to his opening salvo, right from the start her ‘interviewer’ persona cast him as an unfortunate soul who was just pleading to know his kid and a mean woman wouldn’t let him. She did not care for that viewpoint.
In the end she slumped back in her chair and tried to think about all of the things. Jhon knew her original plan wasn’t any good any more. But she wasn’t sure what would work. She stared at the ceiling for a while just to see if anything popped up, but the only points that seemed to circulate about her mind weren’t helpful. She had been planning on being a terrible person for him and the kid. Was she going to be a terrible mother? He already admitted that he’d probably be a lousy dad, what sort of childhood was this kid going to have?
Still staring upward, she responded to his final question first, “Yes… I’m sorry. I do.” The words came out as if in defeat, resigned to facing the harsh rational bits of life, she didn’t actually have any choice in the matter. “I doubt you’ll be any lousyier of a dad than I will be of a mom. You do have as much of a right to know your child as I do. Even despite everything else. I just…” she sighed and didn’t bother to finish that particular sentence.
“At least your mother seems to approve of the situation. Mine isn’t quite so happy, sure she’s supportive and helping, but she’s not exactly wild about it. Dad’s not exactly thrilled either, but he isn’t about to get between me and Mom if things get unpleasant.” She finally brought her gaze down to look at him again. “I don’t know if knowing who you are would make any difference to her.” She rolled her eyes, “Dad may decide he needs to have some level of a ‘chat’ with you regardless of who you are.” She paused for a moment, “Your anonymity will most likely be an ‘all or nothing thing’ and now you’ll have to decide how to handle it.” Something in the ‘family’ section of his talk caught her interest though. “Your grandmother sounds lovely, but… is this muggle that your father married your mother? How is she a Seer if she is a muggle? She has to be a witch. Or are there other family history things here in play? Not that it really matters, just curious.”
“As for everything else,” She gave him a smile because she found that she couldn’t help it, “I am glad that it matters and that you care. That is the important part.” She had to admit to herself that him coming here to talk like this and actually talking like this without (as far as she could tell) the faintest whiff of intoxication did speak volumes to that. She wasn’t sure what to think about being more than ‘Casual acquaintances with extreme benefits’. Not that she’d admit it to anyone, but she had missed dropping by his place when she’d been in the area, and not just for those ‘extreme benefits’. He was a nice change of pace from the society she normally dealt with. She had felt like she could relax around him. “I’m okay with upgrading from ‘casual acquaintances’ to ‘friends’ if you are.”
But then came the real matter to discuss, actual plans. Some of the things he had said had resonated with things her own mother had said over the years. Mom had often commented about Andrew’s situation growing up bouncing between Uncle Marshall and Aunt Gwen. She hadn’t thought much of her own sister’s method of raising a child… and now it sounded like her and Nic’s situation could become a similar one. She didn’t want that. “Well, first let me tell you a little family history, just for context. My mother’s sister, Aunt Gwen, married a muggle man, Uncle Marshall. They had a kid, my cousin Andrew. Unfortunately for Andrew, Aunt Gwen just couldn’t handle the muggle world and Uncle Marshall couldn’t handle the magical one. So, they lived apart, stealing any time together that they could, while Andrew bounced back and forth between them.” She sighed. “Mom thought it was the worst situation ever. Well, until they died but that’s a whole different topic.” And not one she at all wanted to get into whatsoever.
“Andrew dealt with it well enough, they both loved him and each other, but he was always and frankly still is trying to fix that gulf between the worlds.” She resolved herself before uttering her next words, “I don’t want our kid to have to deal with that if they don’t have to.” She looked around at her small apartment again. Despite the work they had put into it, it was not designed as a place to raise a kid. But the other option Nic had offered was the literal middle of nowhere in Iowa? Could she handle that? There was nothing actually tying her to this place specifically, with all of her traveling it really had been nothing more than an office, mailing address and place to sleep. Another bonus would be leaving Mrs. Kashed behind. Still the idea of living under someone else’s roof and being dependent on them? What if things didn’t work out? Plus then there would be zero chance of any level of anonymity for either of them… but Nic’s grandma’s lies would be more convincing. She sighed.
“I don’t know what I want to do. If they are both willing and wanting it, I think the kid should have both parents. It’s only fair to them. But that will change so many things.” She gave him a look, “There would be many details to work out. Your place is connected to the floo, right?” She thought about all of the details that might need to be sorted out and that alone exhausted her. “I’m game for seeing how things go, but this may be your last chance to run and pretend that nothing has ever happened. You’d still have to deal with your mother though. Think about it for a bit.”
Something else had naturally come up. Again. She struggled up out of the chair, “I’ve got to use the ladies room.” She waved her wand and one of those long ignored bottles from her stock appeared on the coffee table in front of Nic. “Just in case you need it.” She added as she made her way to the bathroom for the one-thousandth and first time today.
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Jhonice Trevear
Oh really? That's what you're going with?
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Nic Sawyer
October 25, 2021 10:00 PM
Always blame the Internet - Abe Lincoln said that, right? by Nic Sawyer
When Jhon asked, he nodded in confirmation that the referenced muggle woman his dad married was indeed his mother. "I think she's technically a muggleborn," he admitted carefully, not one hundred percent sure of his facts here, "but when she got her letter, it was dismissed as a hoax and her magic wasn't strong enough to cause problems, so nobody pushed the issue and make her go to magic school. So she's entirely untrained and basically a muggle, other than her gift for divinations which she trained herself in."He held out his hand to shake like it was a business deal when she asked if he wanted to officially upgrade to friends. "Friends," he confirmed, with a firm shake, and a tiny smile.
He listened as she explained the family history involving her cousin. He was pretty sure he'd known she had a cousin Andrew, as he'd been about halfway between both of them at Sonora, but the rest of it was all news to him. It sounded like a strange way to raise a kid to him, but he could say whatever else he wanted to say about his parents, but they'd always been together. They had a marriage so strong that he wasn't convinced it was possible to replicate it if the two parties involved didn't have the Sight. Things just worked for them, and he'd never understood how to make that happen for himself so he hadn't tried.
He guessed he would probably have to start trying now.
Before he could comment on any of it, or the questions she posed after telling Andrew's story, she got up to use the bathroom and left him with a bottle of alcohol. For a moment, he was surprised, because as little pop culture as he exposed himself to, he had still managed to garner that pregnant women were not supposed to drink, and was it rude for him to do so when she couldn't? But she'd given it to him, so wouldn't it be just as rude not to drink some? He was sure his grandmother had something about the impropriety of refusing gifts.
So he poured himself a tumbler, and secured the bottle closed again, figuring one glass was a fair compromise, and this talk could only be helped by some liquid courage. The first sip was . . . definitely larger than a polite sip, but after that he set a more sedate pace.
Jhonice came back after not terribly long, when he still had about half the liquid in his glass.
"Yes, my place is connect to the floo." He ran a business out of his house, of course it was connected to the floo. "I'm not going to pretend I don't know about this. I guess I'll have to meet your father sooner or later. Honestly that worries me less than you meeting my mother. Not because of you or the baby. I have just never liked introducing her to anybody. It's always embarrassing. I spent the three years prior to Sonora pretending I didn't live at my house so nobody would know she was my mother."
He looked at Jhonice's belly. "Merlin, I hope you like us better than that, kid."
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Nic Sawyer
Always blame the Internet - Abe Lincoln said that, right?
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Jhonice Trevear
October 26, 2021 7:32 PM
That doesn't sound right... by Jhonice Trevear
What was she doing? Jhon thought to herself once she was alone. Was she really considering moving in with Nic? Every rational but of her brain was telling her that was the right and smart thing to do. It made sense and would be the best option for the kid. She struggled against it, she loved her independence, she'd moved out on her own as soon as it had been possible. Now she was thinking about living under someone else's roof again? Could she do that?Some slight movements from the child growing inside her made her realize that her 'wild and free" independent lifestyle was over regardless of what she decided. She'd known, but it had been so easy to imagine still going about her daily life most of the time, relying on Mom or Marissa to stand in when she 'couldn't'. That wouldn't have been fair to them or the kid. What would happen if things just didn't work at Nic's place? They'd have to figure that out when it happened.
She left the bathroom, got herself some water and resumed her seat. The first thing she noticed was the entirely reasonable amount of drink he had. She wasn't sure if she would have limited herself if their positions had been reversed. Granted, she'd also just accused him of being a potentially alcoholic father which he vehemently denied as a possibility. He may be trying to prove a point. Good for him.
Nic got right back to the point, and he seemed adamant in his decision. She sighed. "If that is how you feel about seers in general, I have some bad news for you. My cousin Andrew has a little sister, and she's a seer as well. She was trained over in Greece at Delphi. Fortunately for me, she pretends I don't exist because.." Jhon hesitated a moment, "because reasons." She wasn't really what might happen if Giselle ran into a self-taught 'muggle' seer, but it would probably be interesting.
She looked at him intently, "If you really want this, I suggest that maybe we run an experiment first. I've got a clear weekend coming up, if you can get a guest room ready by then, I could come down and we can see if we can stand each other for a few days before making bigger plans." There was something in Nic's look at her belly, and his comment. The next words spilled out with thinking, "Grogu has been pretty active lately," she rubbed her belly, "Do you want to feel?"
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Jhonice Trevear
That doesn't sound right...
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Nic Sawyer
October 29, 2021 9:42 AM
Are you sure? I know he has a quote about the internet. by Nic Sawyer
"Oh, no," he couldn't help but say when Jhonice admitted to having a seer as a cousin. No wonder she'd had such a bad reaction to finding out about his mother. Not that he'd ever seen a good reaction to anyone finding out about his mother, but hers had seemed especially vehement.He did not question the 'reasons' for the estrangement. His own cousins liked to pretend he didn't exist as well, so he saw nothing too unusual in this. Jhonice wasn't a half-blood like he was, but there were a myriad of reasons why one family member would choose to prefer to believe another did not exist, and he honestly wasn't too surprised that such an opinion had fallen onto Jhonice. 'Reporter' or 'Pecari' were the most obvious likely causes. When they'd first met, she'd been very upfront about the fact that she was a reporter and if there was something he didn't want printed, he should say so. He wouldn't be surprised if there had been a person she had really pissed off by not explaining that so clearly. He tagged Cousin Seer as that person.
"Full disclosure," Nic admitted reluctantly, "My father is a seer as well, but he's not as annoying about it as my mother is. Other than an ability to know when a tornado is coming, and sometimes a bad storm, I don't have the gift though, so hopefully the kid will be spared." He took another larger swallow of his drink at the thought that they might have a tiny Seer in the house.
He nodded as she suggested running an experiment before rushing headlong into co-habitation and co-parenting. "Sounds reasonable. I should be able to have some rooms cleared out by the weekend." He spent the majority of his time in his workshop, which was an entirely separate building from the house, so most of his personal detritus had ended up in there. It wouldn't be hard to relocate the rest to his own bedroom or the common areas. "Maybe do the weekend first, and then if that works out, a full week a little later, to see if we can co-exist when we have other obligations going on."
When she called the kid Grogu, his eyebrows shot up high. "Grogu?" he repeated. "I hope that's not what you plan to name my kid. 'Nicodemus' was bad enough and I could shorten that to a normal name."
But he moved closer, his hand faltering still about a foot away from her stomach, equal parts intrigued and terrified and no, just one part intrigued and three parts terrified. "You're sure it's okay?"
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Nic Sawyer
Are you sure? I know he has a quote about the internet.
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Jhonice Trevear
October 29, 2021 7:04 PM
Yeah, but... by Jhonice Trevear
Jhonice nodded in acknowledgement of Nic's reaction to her news about Giselle. Then she cringed at his 'full disclosure'. Giselle had been bad enough growing up, she'd been an angry and distraught child who didn't seem to always be able to separate what she should know and what she shouldn't. But, to have grown up with both parents as seers? Yikes.Apparently he had a touch of it as well. She wasn't sure what to think about that. Everything she'd ever seen on the subject suggested that whatever it was that made seers skipped a few generations. She figured this kid was safe, but suddenly there was a lot of seer blood mixing together. She paled a little at the thought and watched enviously as Nic took a drink. Her water suddenly seemed insufficient.
"That sounds like a good plan," Jhon agreed. She was not at all accustomed to living with people and being around the same ones all of the time. Nic's comment about working around obligations was a fair point and she wondered again how this would all work. Small steps.
Jhonice raised her own eyebrows at Nic. "Your kid?" She responded with mock indignation. "Now you listen here buster. If I want to name my kid the dumbest name on the planet, I just might." She let out a short laugh. "Grogu is the stupid nickname that Andrew gave the kid after I called it 'the child' one to many times around him." She huffed in annoyance, "Apparently it's something from some muggle television show." She waved her hand at the whole situation dismissively.
A thought struck Jhonice. "But.. if you're going to be involved, we can go through the proper, traditional wizarding naming process." It was what her parents had done after all. With a name like Nicodemus, she guessed Nic's parents had as well. "You can pick a name you like, I'll do the same and then we combine them to get the perfect name."
As Nic hesitated, Jhon rolled her eyes. "It's not the first time you've touched me." She took his hand and placed it on her belly. The moment she did so, the kid began to move about again. She sighed. "Merlin, the kid knows. I don't know about this."
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Jhonice Trevear
Yeah, but...
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