Galactica Drive, En Route to Mooby Land, Sunday Afternoon
So far, Éponine hated pretty much everything this weekend. Rambouillet (really, that name?) kept wanting to run off and do things by himself, and as tempting as it was to let him do that and not have to deal with him, she didn't trust him not to spend all his time getting into trouble. Of course she didn't trust him. He was related to her in some completely ridiculous world, which also meant that the kind of trouble he'd get into wasn't going to be innocuous. Therefore, much to her discontent, she'd been keeping an eye on him the whole time.
He'd complained about the warehouse, saying it wasn't as nice as home and anyway it was strange without Papa around, and Éponine didn't know what bothered her more about that: that a future version of her had a kid and a supposedly decent place to live, or that said future version of her had some . . . domestic arrangement with Montparnasse. For God's sake, she didn't like Montparnasse that much. Just parts of -- well. She didn't want to settle down with him.
She felt especially justified in that decision after just one day of putting up with Rambouillet, whom she'd already had to collar and drag out of several stores with a very emphatic lecture about she had to live with these people, so he had better stop trying to steal from them because it would ruin things for her here if he did.
"And for God's sake, no more sneaking up on people," she told him as they headed for Mooby Land in search of food.
Rambouillet scowled at her. "Papa doesn't mind if I do."
"Yes, well," Éponine retorted, "he's not here, is he?"
Was she more than a little irritated with the other version of her, and taking it out on him? Well, yes.
[OOC: Open, sure. Beware the 12-year-old pickpocket and wannabe assassin.]
He'd complained about the warehouse, saying it wasn't as nice as home and anyway it was strange without Papa around, and Éponine didn't know what bothered her more about that: that a future version of her had a kid and a supposedly decent place to live, or that said future version of her had some . . . domestic arrangement with Montparnasse. For God's sake, she didn't like Montparnasse that much. Just parts of -- well. She didn't want to settle down with him.
She felt especially justified in that decision after just one day of putting up with Rambouillet, whom she'd already had to collar and drag out of several stores with a very emphatic lecture about she had to live with these people, so he had better stop trying to steal from them because it would ruin things for her here if he did.
"And for God's sake, no more sneaking up on people," she told him as they headed for Mooby Land in search of food.
Rambouillet scowled at her. "Papa doesn't mind if I do."
"Yes, well," Éponine retorted, "he's not here, is he?"
Was she more than a little irritated with the other version of her, and taking it out on him? Well, yes.
[OOC: Open, sure. Beware the 12-year-old pickpocket and wannabe assassin.]