Cassandra: Babysitting

Who: Cassandra, baby Alota
Where: Club Fister
When: After the first explosion
<snip>
She fell back behind the bar and grabbed a large bottle of scotch from the wall,
taking a large gulp she sighed deeply and glanced over at Alota. "Glad that's
over huh?"
She didn't get to rest for long however, as the deck below her rumbled loudly...
</snip>
"What now?" Cass snarled, clambering to her feet to look out over the ruined
club
"Poo Poo" Alota burbled "Faeces. Shi... "
"Got that right!" Cass cut her off before she could finish that last word
The child tugged unhappily at her nappy
"Ok, I get you, but this really doesn't look good insomuch as I think we're all
going to die here. If we make it out of this alive, I promise I'll change that
nappy, ok?"
Cass took another slug of scotch, and hung onto the bar as the rumbling beneath
the floor grew more and more intense, finally pitching her off balance, back
down onto the floor next to Alota
"Antidisestablishmentarianism"
"Huh?" Cass frowned, as bottles crashed down around them "What do you know about
the movement against withdrawing state sponsorship of the church?"
Alota wormholed
The soft lights, deep pile cream coloured carpets, and gently scented air of the
Ambassadors lavish apartment were jarringly different to the dimly lit, corpse
strewn, smoky stink of the club, but at least it wasn't rumbling alarmingly, or
swarming with alien killing machines, or for that matter, trigger happy fools,
so Cass wasn't in the mood to complain
"Uh..." she managed, glancing at the toddler sat in front of her, before
sweeping her gaze over some of the priceless antiques filling the place "I'm
guessing we're in your father's apartment, right? How do you do that ...
wormhole thing?"
Alota, smelling strongly of excrement, just sucked her thumb and drooled a
little
With a groan, Cass stood, brushing a few pieces of glass from her somewhat
scorched and grubby dressing gown, before attempting a modicum of dignity by
adjusting it and pulling the tie cord tight
"Hello?" she called crossing her arms defensively in front of her; aware of how
dishevelled she must look "Anyone home?"
Nobody answered
"I hope nobody was dumb enough to leave a small child like you, all alone, were
they?" Cass wondered aloud, glancing down at Alota, who was just about to put a
largish piece of glass in her mouth
"Oh, for..."
Quickly stooping, she grabbed the child's hand and gently pried the shard from
her chubby fingers, before scrabbling to pick the other few pieces up, and drop
them in her gown pocked along with the handgun
Alota's bottom lip quivered for a moment before she burst into tears
"Listen..." Cass began, trying to sound sympathetic "I guarantee it: Chewing
broken glass isn't the best ever idea you've ever had. I've seen it happen
enough times, and believe me, it's not a pretty sight"
Alota just howled in response, and kicked herself over onto her back, arms and
legs flailing as she built up steam towards a full blown tantrum
Cass frowned, wrapping her arms around herself as she looked down at the
theatrical display at her feet
"What!?" she asked incredulously
"NoooooOOOoo Noooooooo" Alota screamed
"Aw, come on! You can't seriously be doing this because I stopped you
self-harming...?"
"Waaaaahhhhaggh. No. No. No. No."
Cass closed her eyes and gently massaged her temples
Why people ever wanted kids in the first place was beyond her – the idea of
trying to piss a bowling ball was personally enough to put her off, but factor
in the possibility of dying while you were doing it, followed by the sleep
deprivation, constantly smelling of vomit, and the ungrateful dissonance, and
there was no way you were ever going to be able to convince her it was a good
idea
"AaaaAaaaahhhhhhh"
"Hello?" Cass shouted hopefully, above the screams "Anyone home? ...Please?"
Disappointingly there wasn't
"Neeeeegh No No no no nooooooooooo"
"What am I meant to do here?" Cass asked the screaming bundle of fury at her
feet
This sort of thing was way beyond her experience.
Other than the two cows that had invaded the latter part of her childhood, she'd
had no brothers or sisters, and nothing to do with children of any age before or
since, so as such, she was utterly unequipped to deal with this sort of
situation
"I'm no expert" she said, peering down at the theatrics occurring on the floor
"But I'm guessing you're two, or thereabouts...?"
"Want want want waaaaaaaaaa"
"You want what? Your nappy changing?"
Alota momentarily stopped
"Ye... ye... ye..." she snivelled
Cass grimaced; she could engineer devices that would mean death for millions - a
nappy couldn't be that hard could it?
"Ok..." she shrugged "let's get you changed"
"NoooOOOOooooooo" Alota started her kicking and screaming again "nnnYeaaarggh"
"Oh, for sm..." Cass caught herself just in time before she said anything else
the toddler might repeat
"Fine" she snapped "If you want to be like that, just go for it! I'm going to
look around!"
Needled somewhat, Cass strode off to have a nose through the rooms that
comprised the Ambassadors suite, opening doors and cabinets, peering in
cupboards, and for wont of a nicer phrase, generally casing the joint
The sounds of screaming toddler immediately became muted by the apartment's
expensive sonic filters, and she herself became more and more entranced by the
new wonders she encountered at almost every turn
She really did have to hand it to the Ambassador: The place was an object lesson
in fine taste, and a veritable treasure trove of priceless objects d'art, to
boot ...Although you did have to wonder at the wisdom of having a toddler in
such an environment
Speaking of which: Cass realised with a start that the child's tantrum, deprived
of the oxygen of adult attention, had burned itself out, so she turned to make
her way back towards the living room, to check that the infant wasn't doing
something stupid, like stabbing itself in the eye, or smearing the contents of
her nappy on the priceless furniture
She was just at the point of asking herself exactly why she should even care
about the child when she saw "it"
"Oh. My. Word" Cass breathed, her legs feeling a little weak "How did that get
here?"
The painting wasn't large by any means, but it hung in its rightful place,
commanding one full wall of the master bedroom, sympathetically lit with
expensive but subdued lighting, which at once both flattered, and enhanced the
subtle tones and brushwork
Seymour, from all that she had heard about the man would never make do with even
a molecular level copy, so this just had to be the genuine, original article
Cass approached almost reverentially; she'd seen photographs of the piece before
– most people had, but she'd never had the good fortune to be so intimately
close to such a legendary piece of artwork in her entire life
She stopped for a moment to savour the depicted scene: The craggy mountainous
vista beyond the fine drapes, seemingly at odds with the subjects eagerly (as
some art historians would have it) exposed, smooth and sensuous curves, and her
wonton, but at the same time: coy smile
"I can't believe that even the Ambassador would have something like this..."
Cass murmured, eyes shining in wonder
The nameless woman, rumoured to have been the masters muse, gazed knowingly out
of the portrait at her; her strawberry blonde hair (or was it auburn? - art
historians had been arguing over that point for years) shining with a beautiful,
burnished lustre that only enhanced her perfect, alabaster nakedness
Instantly, Cass knew that this was the very thing that might well save her life:
Van Clomp's masterpiece, The Fallen Madonna
<tbc/>