serious-face

vdistinctive


What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.


idol-face
Eliot Spencer vdistinctive
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75 Godiva Street, Sunday afternoon
If Eliot had had any doubts about who Riley's father was -- and honestly, it made enough sense that he was planning to call Tara later and make sure that she wasn't keeping a daughter a secret from him, so he hadn't -- the fact that she'd stolen his guitar and was now parked in the living room playing it would have gotten rid of them. Especially when he noticed that despite its upbeat tempo, the song was pretty damn depressing.

"Not bad," he said when she'd finished. "You know you get that from me."

"Really." Riley smirked up at him. "I didn't realize guitar playing was a heritable trait."

[ooc: open to whoever!]

Spike wandered in, being dragged by Emmy, hands full of paper and Crayons for both of them.

"You're good," he said to Riley, not sounding surprised, but more appreciative. "And emo."

Emmy settled down at the coffee table and picked up a purple Crayon, then asked, "What's emo?"

Riley snorted. "It's They Might Be Giants. Predates emo." She looked up at Spike. "You play?" Then down at Emmy. "Who's the shrimp?"

"I'm not a shrimp, I'm a pterodactyl today," Emmy informed her, industriously drawing a spiral based on the Golden Rule. "Emmy, named for Emmy Roether! Parker's my not-Mommy."

(no subject) - stoleafamily, 2016-04-17 07:16 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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(no subject) - stonecolekiller, 2016-04-18 12:52 am (UTC)(Expand)
Emmy had branched out into Mandelbrot sets after a bit, while singing the Jonathan Coulton song of the same name under her breath.

Parker sneaked in a bit later, and silently took a seat across from Emmy. Who handed her the red crayon as if this was only to be expected.

"I don't know that song," she said, starting to draw a picture of Emmy on one of the sheets of paper.

Emmy looked up in surprise. "My Mommy taught it to me."

And Z2 is Z1 squared plus C
And Z3 is Z2 squared plus C and so on
If the series of Zs will always stay
Close to Z instead of trend away
That point is in the Mandelbrot Set


"Music is math too. Like art is math. Everything is math!" She started making another Mandelbrot blot, and then asked, "If you don't do math, what do you do?"

Edited at 2016-04-17 08:33 pm (UTC)

(no subject) - whoisalicewhite, 2016-04-17 08:56 pm (UTC)(Expand)
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(no subject) - fractalofparker, 2016-04-18 12:46 am (UTC)(Expand)
"Nice!" Hardison said appreciatively as he sauntered into the living room. "You takin' requests, little mama? Cause you can't have TMBG an' not play Istanbul, you know that, right?"

"Istanbul's no fun without at least the violin," Riley protested. "You like TMBG?"

She shouldn't be surprised. Some of their music was older than both of them.

"Funny how that works," Hardison said, sauntering over to the corner of the living room where his stuff was slowly accumulating. La la la. In a second, his violin case was in his hand and he was giving Riley a big grin. "It's almost like I knew that when I suggested it."

(no subject) - stonecolekiller, 2016-04-18 01:45 am (UTC)(Expand)
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(no subject) - age_of_the_geek, 2016-04-18 06:31 am (UTC)(Expand)
Ada lounged on the couch, cruelly taunting her Pops by playing with her phone and not allowing him to take it apart and examine it.

"Oh no," she pretended to groan when Spike came in and asked for the guitar. "It's going to be Jellikal Kats all over again."

Thank goodness that name hadn't lasted long.

Eliot patrolled through a few times to make sure everyone had everything they needed, then nudged Ada to move so he'd have room to sit down next to her.

"You know there's a world outside-a that phone, right?"

Give him another day and he'd be making 'hi Bored, I'm dad' jokes.

Ada moved, but as soon as Eliot sat down, she was draping her legs back over him. What? Parents existed to be mobile furniture.

"Yeah, but how else can I keep reminding Pops that there's futuristic tech in the house he's not allowed to dismantle?" she asked, giving her Dad a grin.

(no subject) - vdistinctive, 2016-04-18 02:30 am (UTC)(Expand)
(no subject) - my2dads, 2016-04-18 02:38 am (UTC)(Expand)
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(no subject) - my2dads, 2016-04-18 06:14 am (UTC)(Expand)
Parker was now on the steps of the house, rubbing Val's ears, and breathing. Just breathing. No thinking.

Well, except for how she was, in bits and pieces.

Somewhere, some other version of her was still in contact with her mother. That was more upsetting than being the mother of the tiny pterodactyl coloring in the living room.

"Hey Aunt Parker," Ada said softly. She'd slipped out of the window instead of using the door not for any particular reason, but because she thought Parker might appreciate it. "Is there room for one more on those steps?"

"Mmm?" Parker snapped out of it, at least a little; her fingers dug into Val's fur, then loosened, and she managed a smile for Ada. A tiny one, anyway. "Sure." It had been at least fifteen minutes now, right? Her initial shock was done, and she was left with... something.

She felt like she ought to ask Ada how her visit was going, but couldn't think of how to approach that. Too many thoughts.

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