Title: Realmspeaker
Genre: Urban fantasy
Characters: Isadora, Farrel
Prompt: 125 ~ Child
Word Count: Approx. 455
Rating: PG (just in case)
Type: Series
Summary: Isadora is asked a favor.
Warnings: ...none? o_O
September 9, 2059
17 Lockland Road, Lockport, New York
"You're not planning on staying for supper, are you?"
Genre: Urban fantasy
Characters: Isadora, Farrel
Prompt: 125 ~ Child
Word Count: Approx. 455
Rating: PG (just in case)
Type: Series
Summary: Isadora is asked a favor.
Warnings: ...none? o_O
*
September 9, 2059
17 Lockland Road, Lockport, New York
"You're not planning on staying for supper, are you?"
Farrel squinted. Perhaps Isadora was being unreasonable--after all, he wouldn't have been here if he had anywhere else to go--but if he was going to visit then she preferred it to be brief. Her husband was out helping a friend move and her children had a play-date with some of the neighborhood kids and she didn't want to run the risk of him being here when they returned. Farrel was largely aloof with his younger siblings, barely acknowledging them if they didn't outright ask for attention, then forgetting they were in the room and swearing or launching some raunchy anecdote she suspected was only intended to piss her off.
It was even worse when Orlando was around. Her husband was a kind-hearted, mild-mannered soul who would never dream of pushing someone out the door, least of all someone who was family. There was also the fact that he was a shrink--and that Farrel was about as fascinating a specimen as he could get. Maybe it was time to suggest some formal therapy already.
"Are you offering?"
It was even worse when Orlando was around. Her husband was a kind-hearted, mild-mannered soul who would never dream of pushing someone out the door, least of all someone who was family. There was also the fact that he was a shrink--and that Farrel was about as fascinating a specimen as he could get. Maybe it was time to suggest some formal therapy already.
"Are you offering?"
Isadora sighed. Farrel didn't cook. Lucia would be at the university until quite late and Farrel didn't want to spend any alone time with that Walker Brett had stuck in their place. That awful Jayson boy was probably spending his evening snorting cocaine off of whores and it wasn't as if Farrel had any other friends. And God forbid he showed up at Brett's place. "Fine. But it'll just be something quick, and I can't really talk afterwards; I have a few things to take care of."
She was a horrible liar and one sniff from him told her he knew it. "I see how it is."
"Farrel..."
She was a horrible liar and one sniff from him told her he knew it. "I see how it is."
"Farrel..."
"Whatever, I'll just pick up a burger somewhere." He slung legs up onto the couch and flopped into a recline. Isadora cringed as his dirty sneakers met the upholstery, but there was little point in nagging him. "Before I go, though--I need a favor."
If it'll get your feet off my couch. "Fine. What is it?"
"I have to do something tomorrow and Brett can't know about it because it kinda might throw a wrench in his entire agenda." Figured he would mention that. Now if she said no, all he had to do was accuse her of being involved. She'd dealt with a ton of crap from Farrel and she'd let a lot of it slide, but an accusation like that might have been the last straw. "So if he could be distracted for a couple hours, that would be great."
If it'll get your feet off my couch. "Fine. What is it?"
"I have to do something tomorrow and Brett can't know about it because it kinda might throw a wrench in his entire agenda." Figured he would mention that. Now if she said no, all he had to do was accuse her of being involved. She'd dealt with a ton of crap from Farrel and she'd let a lot of it slide, but an accusation like that might have been the last straw. "So if he could be distracted for a couple hours, that would be great."
Then again, if that wasn't the last straw, Lord only knew what was. "You're kidding, right?"
