What, was "Rudy" on cable last night?

. . . Yes.

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."

Spike grinned and ruffled Emmy's hair; she batted at his hand, not looking up. "New little sister. And yeah, I play." He sent Eliot a hopeful look. "Have you got another guitar, or should I just wait my turn?"

"Oh yeah?" Riley smiled at Emmy. "Pterodactyls are my favorites. What's a not-mommy?" She patted the guitar and looked back up at Spike. "Only found the one, but I guess Spencer might be hiding extras somewhere. Didn't look that close."

(no subject) - fractalofparker, 2016-04-17 07:29 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)

"I do math. I just-- apply it." Parker smiled a little, watching the baby dragon. At least, that's how she was thinking of her for the next couple days. "We help people. People who can't get help from the police, or the lawyers."

There. Would that make sense to a five-year-old? Parker's sketch was going well. She showed it to Emmy.

"Daddy helps people," Emmy said, thinking about that. "He's a profiler. With psychology." She tilted her head and beamed at the picture of her. "Gramma Diane says he protects little kids. Gramma Sylvia says Mommy helps people dream big with the space program."

(no subject) - whoisalicewhite, 2016-04-17 11:56 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."

Riley sat up straighter. "You play?" Somehow, this had never come up in her few interactions with her world's Hardison. "I thought you were just the techie guy."

Hardison was trying very hard not to judge Tara. Riley should know her family better than this.

"Girl, first of all, even if all I did was tech, I wouldn't just be the 'techie guy'," he informed her. Using air quotes. "The things I can do with tech make me a 'tech wizard' at the very least." In a much louder voice meant to be overheard, he added, "Though imagine what I could do after bein' able to study some future tech for, like, even ten minutes, yo!"

On the couch, Ada grinned and pretended like she hadn't heard.

"Ain't your mom ever tell you some stories? I once forged an 18th century journal usin' only contemporary materials, carved statues of saints, an' painted the picture of Old Nate that hung on Leverage's walls for years. I'm a damn Renaissance man, girl, keep up."

(no subject) - stonecolekiller, 2016-04-18 02:59 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.

Eliot startled faintly, not used to teenagers -- or anyone other than Hardison -- casually draping themselves on him. Though considering last year he'd managed to be the bottom of a child-and-puppy-pile, it probably shouldn't have surprised him.

"He ain't actually gonna forget that," Eliot pointed out. "No matter how hard he tries."

"But now it's right here," Ada said. "Watch him."

She moved the phone to the left, then the right, then up above her head before bringing it back down to her lap. Hardison's head tracked every movement.

"See?" she asked, giggling. "He's not fondly watching his daughter from the future. He's watching her phone."

(no subject) - vdistinctive, 2016-04-18 03:01 am (UTC)(Expand)
(no subject) - my2dads, 2016-04-18 03:25 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.

That was fine, a big part of their relationship revolved around them not having to talk. Or Ada talking and not requiring Parker to respond.

"I got my first warehouse," she said quietly, sitting on the steps next to Parker, but not too close. "I stole it, I didn't buy it. The property was for sale by the city, so I just forged the documentation and said it was mine. Kid's stuff. The city should be ashamed how Swiss cheesey their systems are."

Good choice, Ada. That was a topic that was sure to catch Parker's attention. She relaxed a tiny bit, brain grabbing onto this distracting topic quickly. "How big is it?" Because that was important, square footage. "Do you have the security installed yet?"

(Underneath that, her brain started to work its way through the implications of her mom being 'Gramma Sylvia' to Emmy, without her having to focus on it.)

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