The Boards, Monday Morning

[furnaceface]

Jonothon had woken up with practically every NPC child on the island sleeping in his theatre this morning. Every. Last. One.

This had set off quite the chain of events. First, he'd had to feed them. He was pretty sure he wasn't going to have to make that many pancakes again for the rest of his life. And then he had to make a trip to the church to leave a sign on the door, directing any actual caretakers of these children to the Boards to pick them up. The kids had followed him on that trip like two rows of little baby ducks, which had been adorable, at least. And then came more feeding, because apparently children were bottomless pits.

And he had to do all of this without coffee, since he'd given that away yesterday in order to keep Korra from burning the building down.

Now, if anyone were to stop by the Boards, they'd find Jonothon half-draped over a chair, tiredly reading printouts of children's stories that he'd found on the internet for the few remaining children while he waited for their families to collect them.

Once they were all gone, he was going to sleep for about a month.

[Open Boards, naturally! If you left a kid with Jono, feel free to stop in or handwave picking him up. Poor Jims. I'll be a little slow while I'm at work, of course, but around-ish all day.]

Comments

[furnaceface]

"Well, then he'll be off to an excellent start on the rest of his life," Jono decided, smiling back at Rilla, now. "The little lad is lucky to be in such capable hands. I think most people your age wouldn't have it in them, luv."

Goodness knew Jono didn't.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Oh, it's pure stubbornness," Rilla said. "My father didn't think I could, so naturally I had to."

[furnaceface]

And at that, Jono couldn't help but chuckle.

"Really, there's no better incentive," he decided. "The 'I told you so' at the end is going to make it that much better, I should think."

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

Rilla reached up to pat the horrible extremely garish green hat she was wearing now that she could no longer pretend it was summer. "My stubbornness has gone the other way on a few occasions, too."

[furnaceface]

Jono wanted to be able to say that he'd seen worse hats. But, well...

"Using your powers of stubbornness for evil instead of good?"

Which, really, was often the more fun option.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Used my pocket money in a way my mother didn't approve," Rilla replied with a wry laugh. "So I told her I'd wear the hat four three years or until the war was over, whichever was longer."

She hated the hat so, so much.

[furnaceface]

The hat was a bit... gaudy. Jono gave it a once-over, a little smirk on his face.

"You're on the losing end of that one, aren't you?"

It was going to be a three-year hat, Rilla. Unless you bought that hat over a year after the start of the war.

"Sadly, I've seen worse."

X-Men.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"You have?" Rilla, don't look so happy about that. "Really?"

[furnaceface]

Jono gave a solemn sort of nod.

"Fishbowl battle helmets should be a privilege, not a lifestyle choice."

Sorry, Juggernaut. Except... not sorry.

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

"Should those even be legal?" Rilla asked warily.

[furnaceface]

"Given that the fishbowl of doom look is courtesy of some sort of demon of rage and destruction," Jono mused, "no, probably not."

Didn't you feel better about your hat already?

[rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com]

So much better!

"...demons aren't known for their good taste?" Rilla finally offered.

[furnaceface]

Jono suddenly couldn't help but think of a certain giant four-eyed demon's loincloth.

...

"You know, I haven't actually met a pure-blooded one yet who is."

Because. Loincloth.