hellonspectacles | (no subject)

Though one might not initially expect it, Palamedes Sextus is fairly good with children, despite having no particular experience looking after them. Having grown up in a place that had no strict barrier between childhood and adulthood, he tends to treat children as short adults who haven’t had as much time to learn things yet. That can be a particular boon for the sort of child inclined to ask many, many questions, but even less inquisitive ones appreciate his instinct to take them as seriously as he would someone much older.

But babies? Humans who can’t communicate their needs and lack even the most basic reasoning skills? They might as well be aliens.

So when he shows up unannounced at Darlington’s door and immediately hears the sounds of a crying infant coming from inside, he hesitates and wonders if maybe he should come back another time, or even email Darlington his recent findings.

In the end, he knocks anyway. If need be, surely Darlington can let the baby sleep for an hour or so, or something like that. Can’t he?

Threaded | Flat

He knows from experience how easy isolation can be at Black Elm. Sat on the outskirts of town in Darrow and New Haven both, vast and sprawling and perpetually in need of care, it hadn't been uncommon for Darlington to realize a week or more had passed since he'd left for anything other than school or work or his morning runs. He's seen Alex fall into the same trap, more so now that Edie's here, and when she mentions a passing invitation to coffee from one of the other dancers at the club, Darlington's the first to encourage her to go.

It's a few hours, he'd said. Edie and I will be fine, and you're going stir-crazy, Stern.

The trouble starts when Edie wakes from her nap, fussing grimly through a diaper change, tiny displeased noises that fade for a moment before returning again just slightly stronger. Darlington rocks her, humming snatches of anything he can think of under his breath, but her irritation builds until she emits the wail he and Alex both know means hunger. At least there's milk in the fridge; carrying her downstairs, he drags the bouncer from its usual place in the living room and nestles her in, then goes to prepare a bottle. He's just about to set it in to warm when there's a knock at the door--and, as if on cue, a volley of furious barking as Kirby runs to alert the whole house to the presence of a visitor.

"God damn it, Kirby," Darlington shouts, as the barking only serves to set Edie off to some new, startled height of fury. He winces a second later, looking towards his daughter, but hurries to the front door, wrapping fingers in Kirby's collar to hold him back as he opens the door. Seeing Palamedes on the other side is a surprise--not a wholly welcome one, at that--but he offers his friend a welcoming if frazzled nod.

"Come in. It's chaos, but...come in."