The Salle, Monday Morning

[bitchprince]

Yes, Arthur was still technically wounded (and wearing that infernal sling so he couldn't actually use his regular sword arm), and if all had been normal, he wouldn't be here. Unfortunately, circumstances dictated that his only other alternative would be to be stuck in one room with Leto and a gaggle of screaming children instead, and he was fairly sure that was what other people meant when they talked about Hell.

The salle was the better option. At least he'd-- imprinted them all with the importance of discipline and swordcraft. Right now, it was a brilliant way to distract the little bastards. With any luck, Gawain would show up (or simply vanish into thin air, because weren't these things supposed to last two days) to make the insanity complete.

He was dragging Reno off to go drinking once this was finished.

He eyed Arawn. "Check your posture," he ordered, "You'll just ruin your arm like that. Morgana, don't point that at-- Down. It's called discipline."

It was going to be a long day.

[[ open to all, especially to insane au relatives of doom (tm) ]]

Rec Room - Early Monday Afternoon

[rocksthescarf.livejournal.com]

What's worse than Chuck Bass? Five of his children in one room together. It was like a congealed ball of concentrated evil. It was surprising that there wasn't any ambient fog or evil music playing or anything to signal what was in the rec room. Well there was music playing, but that was more Mary's doing than actual evil.

There wasn't evil plotting or maniacal laughter going on at the moment. They were just doing what you expected most Bass children did with their free time.

Mostly it consisted of fighting with each other and eating cookies.

[Yep, all 5 of them are in there. For myself, parents of the evil kids, other kids, other adults, whoever wants to talk to the little brats. And this is the most childlike icon I have so shut up]

4th Floor Corridor - Sunday Night

[once-a-traitor.livejournal.com]

Edmund was determined never to have children, even if being part of the royal family meant he was supposed to. The reason wasn't that Michael and Louisa were hellions (well, no more than he'd been at that age) or that they were too much to handle. The reason was that he didn't want to be this exhausted every night for years on end.

Despite the exhaustion, one that he hadn't even felt after a battle, he wasn't asleep in his bed. He'd taken responsibility for both children tonight and had stupidly given them pie and ice cream and soft drink, leading to several hours of hyperactivity and very loud songs being sung over and over and over.

Edmund sat in the 4th floor corridor outside his room with two small children asleep beside him. Lou was to his left, her head in his lap, and Michael was tucked up beside him on his right. He wasn't sure how they were able to sleep out here, but they'd bickered and refused to sleep in the room, and Edmund was inclined to give them what they wanted so long as they were quiet.

It didn't take long for the sugar high to plummet and both kids were in a deep sleep. Unfortunately for Edmund, moving them wasn't an option just yet, so he sat, feet outstretched across the corridor and tried not to move too much.

[OOC: Open for anyone who might be awake at this late hour, or in a real timezone.]