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Post by Madeline Speare on Apr 4, 2009 15:06:54 GMT
"This was not my best idea," I murmurs softly, pushing the door open to the Leaky Cauldron with my shoulder, while hoisting Abby higher into my arms. The normal Abby would be calm and quiet, the one I was currently had in her arms was the complete opposite. She was bright in the face, crying loud and flailing her arms wildly. "Shush, Abby baby, shush your okay." I mutter, trying not to let the fact everyone in the Cauldron had dropped whatever they were doing and turned to look, accusingly for some, at me. Oh let the judging begin.
Making my way over to the bar, I set Abby on the top of it, despite the stern look from the bartender. Fuck off, my daughter's hurt. I'm very tempted to say this, so that everyone will just get off my back. I bite back the comment, instead focusing on Abby, who's crying louder then every. Oh course, she got her lungs from me. "Shush, baby your okay." I whisper soothingly, pushing her skirt slightly above her knee, so I could see where she had fallen.
I blame my attention span. I had looked away from Abby for two seconds, two seconds and somehow she had managed to fall, scraping her knee pretty badly. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue. I had dealt with all of these things before with Poppy and Alex, even Erin when she was around. But then again, they always managed to hurt themselves. Abby had always been the odd one out, the good one, as Ian loved referring to her. She'd dutifully cling to our hands, not once letting go. That's where I should have realized something bad would happen. "You're okay babygirl," I mumble softly, muttering a heal spell, then wiping her tears away with the bottom of my shirt. "Mummy's got you."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 8, 2009 21:47:02 GMT
I hate this place and I don't know why I'm here. I hate this place because it's crowded. I hate this place because I'm not even that fond of drinking. I hate this place because this is where I ran into Ruby that time and she seems to hang around in the same places, so I'm hoping she's not here. I just hate this place.
But there must be a reason why I'm here, no matter how obscure and nonsensical it is. Maybe I'm just bored of Knockturn Alley, maybe it's a once bitten twice shy sort of thing and that's why I haven't gone back to Knockturn Alley yet. Maybe I have have a subconscious desire for social interaction... Not likely.
But whatever the reason I am here...hating it, hating everyone, and really considering just leaving before I go crazy. Trying to avoid crazy, after all. So sitting at the far end of the bar, as close as possible to the wall and staring hard at the bar, not touching the bottle of firewhisky I didn't really want but ordered anyway. Right...I'm out of here.
I'm just on my way out when I catch sight of Madeline though and change my mind. I might just let it go and leave, but we have common interests I suppose. As in I haven't seen her and I still don't know where the hell my son is and I really want to know. So I push my way through various groups of people until I get to the side of the bar where she is, and then say without regard for the fact I'm interrupting, "Are you quite done making a scene Marilyn?"
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Post by Madeline Speare on Apr 8, 2009 23:34:51 GMT
I already know the voice, so there's no need for me to turn around and acknowledge that I know it's him. I couldn't forget his voice even if I tried. So I just keep my attention on Abby, who's hiccuping softly.
I make a mental note not to tell Ian about this. Even if he won't admit it, Abby's his favorite. His little girl, the one he didn't get to know properly, almost like he did with Poppy, this is his redemption. "Come on Abby," I murmur, still not turning around to face Logan, and hoisting her up into my arms. "Are you done being a prick Logan?" I mumble softly, finally acknowledging him. "Some of us have responsibilities you know,"
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 8, 2009 23:39:16 GMT
"Not even close," I respond in as clipped and impersonal tone as possible. "And speaking of responsibilities, where the hell is my son?" I'm definitely not over here because I want to talk to her, that's never happened. But I'm not even here because I want to aggravate her, because I can't be bothered. Common interests. Just common interests. Have to endure her company for a short while to get the information I want. That's all.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Apr 8, 2009 23:44:10 GMT
It takes all my self control to keep from rolling my eyes. "Oh honestly Logan," I murmur, hoisting Abby higher in my arms, and letting her bury her head into my shoulder. "Let's drop the little act, shall we? This whole 'I Care About My Son' charade isn't fooling anyone."
My temper is getting the best of me, I know this but there's no stopping me. "Why don't you drop this act and go back to being the real you?"
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 8, 2009 23:50:39 GMT
"Oh, it's an act is it? Well, fuck, you saw right through me Marilyn. Your intelligence never ceases to amaze me, honestly." I reply. I don't see how she drew that conclusion. I don't think I'm even pretending to care about Finley, because I don't...not in the conventional sense, just...in my own slightly twisted way, in the way where I want to know where he is even though I want nothing to do with him. I also don't see what an "I care about my son charade" would help me achieve either. That'd be pretty pointless. "Do you know where he is or not?"
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Post by Madeline Speare on Apr 8, 2009 23:57:39 GMT
"You've never cared about anyone Logan, not in the ten years I've been forced to acknowledge your very existence," I mutter, keeping my tone even and crisp. I just hold Abby closer to me. An unconscious way to show Logan that, unlike him, I'm still a good parent, that I care for my child, and ever better that I know where my child is. Way to stick it to him, Madds. It's an empty victory really.
I managed to brush my bangs out of my face by tilting my head back slightly. "I know," It's true. After meeting up with Logan last time, I made sure that I would do everything in my power to find Finley. He's taken after Logan, as much as it pains me to admit. At least in some sense. "He's like you. At least when it comes to not wanting to be found."
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 9, 2009 0:11:44 GMT
"Well, clearly that's a lie, but I'm not going to get into this argument with you." I shrug indifferently. Then I have to pause because everything stops working for a second in the wake of the overwhelming blip of relief. He's just a kid, Fin, and it's not as if I want to hear that he's still missing, not as if I want to know that he's dead in a ditch somewhere...so that's why there's relief. It's involuntary, but I try not to let it show on my face lest I get accused of putting on another act. "Good..." I murmur vaguely after a moment. "Where is he?" I'm not going to respond to that last sentence. I know he's like me. It's why we didn't get along. And clearly he doesn't want to be found, or didn't before now.
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Post by Madeline Speare on Apr 10, 2009 22:13:56 GMT
"He didn't want me to say," I reply evenly, finding some sick satisfaction that Logan is semi-human and is worried about his son. Finley didn't want me to find him in the first place, it took me forever to just track him down. I wasn't about to go on and blow is cover. It took all my power just to get him to calm down, and get him to come with me. Lord knows he's gotten my temper.
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Post by Logan Andrews on Apr 11, 2009 9:09:01 GMT
I pause, for a moment only able to look at her in disbelief. "I don't care what he bloody wants. He's a kid. He can't make decisions." Well, he probably can by now. He can look after himself well enough anyway, so I suppose he can make decisions, but he's not allowed to make that sort of decision, not the sort of decision which shuts me out and means that I'm not allowed to know. And she can't back him up either, she has to tell me, because I have as much of a claim to him as she does. Or maybe that's the wrong phrase, because I don't want to have any sort of claim on him. It's more a matter of principle I suppose, wanting to know because I feel like I should and because she's now said that I can't. But I'm getting a little irritated and that's not necessarily a good thing because demanding an answer is probably not the right way to go about getting one. "...Is he okay?" I force out instead. Hm, saying that feels like some kind of...blasphemy, or something.
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