Third Floor Common Room, Monday Late Morning

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle had to admit, it had been nice to spar with another Shadowhunter whose moves she was not a hundred percent familiar with, this morning. Even if said Shadowhunter was a tiny one, and so she'd had to hold back pretty much all of her strength. And also had to use the wooden swords. But still. Yukon wasn't half bad – not that Isabelle had expected her to be – and it had been fun, in a different way from what she usually did in the salle.

What was less nice was when Yukon announced that breakfast made by Isabelle would not cut it, and that they'd either have to get Daddy to make it, or buy something. So in a fit of niceness, Isabelle had ordered in some super healthy breakfast from J,GoB. Hey, growing Shadowhunters needed their sugar! Or maybe they shouldn't have been left unsupervised. Either or.

So, now both girls were curled up on the couch, getting their all-important sugar fix, and talking about such important things as how much Yukon's poor dad still tried to talk to Shadowhunters about mundane things that fell to deaf ears.

And maybe there were even some pastries to share with people who happened to come by. Maybe. Lightwood girls were pretty fickle about sharing.

[ooc: Open!]

Comments

[jaegersandwings.livejournal.com]

Beatrice had slipped away from her parents and was going to make herself some cereal, but she changed her mind the second she spotted the pastries.

"I want one," she announced, pointing at the bakery box.

[kaijuhunter.livejournal.com]

"Ask nicely!" Yukon retorted. Like she herself was someone who would've asked nicely.

(Spoiler: she wasn't. Isabelle was not going to comment on that.)

[jaegersandwings.livejournal.com]

Beatrice actually was capable of being polite. Sometimes. But right then ...

"Don't boss me around," she said, reaching for a cherry danish. "That's not nice either."

[seveninchmotto]

And now Isabelle was raising an eyebrow at her.

"Regardless of Yukon's niceness ––" Or lack thereof, obviously. "–– you should still say please."

[flickofthewrist]

His common room was coming empty when it came to food he wanted to eat so it was only natural to try other common rooms. Fourth floor was only giving him expired oatmeal for some reason so now it was the third floor's turn.

"Morning," he mumbled, still trying to wake himself up when he wandered in. "There anything to eat in here?"

He hadn't even really looked at who was in the common room before making his way to the fridge. Look, he'd just rolled out of bed...an hour ago and being alert was underrated.

[jaegersandwings.livejournal.com]

Beatrice sighed. Ugh, parents.

"Please may I have a danish?" she rattled off.

[kaijuhunter.livejournal.com]

"If you ask nicely," Yukon informed him. "And you can only have one pastry." She didn't want random mundies eating all the breakfast she considered rightfully hers.

Isabelle just gave Flick an amused look for wandering around seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.

[seveninchmotto]

"That request leaves something to be desired, but yes," Isabelle replied with a nod. "You can have a danish."

Yukon focused on looking haughty.

[not_a_moonie]

Beatrice's mouth was already full of pastry when Alana made it to the common room, looking slightly disheveled.

"There you are," she told her daughter. "You could tell us when you go somewhere, y'know."

[jaegersandwings.livejournal.com]

Beatrice swallowed her mouthful of goo. "You were in the bathroom and I was hungry," she said logically. "It's not like I'm a baby. Anyhow, that lady" -- she pointed to Isabelle -- "was here."

"Thanks," Alana said, also to Isabelle. And now it was her turn to eye the pastries, though she was somewhat more subtle about it than her daughter.

[flickofthewrist]

"Who says I want your pastries?" he wondered without looking over, continuing on with being oblivious for the moment. Hey, he had cabinets to look through. "I don't ask for things nicely anyway."

Lies. But, again, oblivious. And already put off by someone telling him what he had to do to get something.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Celia wandered in before class, clutching a miniature of herself by the hand. It wasn't out of affection, really. It was because the last time she'd let Margaret off on her own, Celia hadn't been able to find her for fifteen minutes and much though she hated it, that made her all sorts of anxious. For no reason. Because this wasn't her child.

"Mama, look! Breakfast!" Margaret noted helpfully, while Celia sighed.

"Yes, Margaret. But it's not your breakfast, unless Miss Isabelle says you may have some," she said wearily. She glanced over at Isabelle, noting the other little girl in the room. "You got one, too? Or is this someone else's progeny and you're babysitting?"

[kaijuhunter.livejournal.com]

All the more reason for Isabelle to suppress her snort and lean over to whisper in her daughter's ear.

Whispering over, Yukon announced, "Then no pastries for you, Jon."

Got his attention, didn't it?

[flickofthewrist]

It took a second but it definitely got his attention. He ended up frowning and spinning around, ready to accuse someone of reading his mind or something.

That retort died on his lips when he saw who else was with the stingy pastry girl. The use of his name made a little more sense now.

"Oh." He made a face at Isabelle and then glanced at the little girl. "What a stern little pastry dictator you are. I bet I know where you get that from."

[seveninchmotto]

Still not subtle enough for Isabelle not to notice. "You can have one, if you want."

Yukon... was just going to sigh.

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle smirked and patted Yukon's shoulder as she leaned back a bit. "I know, the attitude's like a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation."

[not_a_moonie]

"Thanks," Alana said, ignoring the sighing as she selected a cinnamon roll.

"So, I'm guessing that one's" -- she tilted her head to indicate she meant Yukon, not a pastry -- "yours?"

She figured it wasn't hard for anyone to guess Beatrice was hers, what with the wings and all.

[flickofthewrist]

"And you look so incredibly proud of that," he remarked with a shake of his head. "Most mothers would be proud of having kids in an honor society or saving babies from third world countries. You? Proud of an attitude."

He was unsurprised.

"Congratulations on that inheritance, child of Isabelle's," he said, looking at the kid again. "It'll take you very far in life."

[seveninchmotto]

Isabelle shrugged. "And Raleigh's." Which might explain the lighter hair, because Isabelle's was jet black. There wasn't much family resemblance between them in looks, although they more than made up for it in attitude. "Or so she says. When children show up out of nowhere, who knows if you can trust anything they say?"

She was joking. Yukon gave her a dry look.

[catlikeblueeyes.livejournal.com]

Well, here was someone Gabe hadn't expected to see. He smiled, trying to mask his amusement at seeing his favorite aunt as a teenager.

"Hello," he said. "Smells good."

Which probably suggested that Isabelle hadn't baked it.

[kaijuhunter.livejournal.com]

"Of course," said Yukon, without even an ounce of joking. Yeah, the attitude was strong with this one. "And I have a name, too."

'Child of Isabelle's' was okay, but it wasn't her name.

"It's Yukon."

[seveninchmotto]

"No, this one's mine," Isabelle replied, patting Yukon on the head and earning some epic frowning in the process. "Has my last name and everything."

Surprising no one. Lightwood was a very proud Shadowhunter name.

"There's extra pastries, help yourself."

[seveninchmotto]

Definitely not.

"Well, they know their business at the bakery," Isabelle replied, with a very mild eyebrow raise at the newcomer.

Next to her, Yukon looked a little more openly curious. When she could be bothered to look up from her donut, that was.

[flickofthewrist]

"Wow.

Sorry. He couldn't help reacting like that because what a freaking name.

"Pleasure to meet you, Yukon," he said after he'd gotten over his initial amusement at her name. "I'm Flick."

Or Jon.

[pasunereveuse.livejournal.com]

Margaret hurried over to make her selection, while Celia took a very welcome break and found herself a seat on a couch. "Hello," she said, smiling tiredly at the frowning child with Isabelle. "I know you're a Lightwood, then, but what's your first name?"