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Marti Mortenson (yes, I know!)

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Placeholder post for "Keeping Open" purposes.

[ mood | amused ]

*sits on the couch with Christabel, who decided to wake up just as she got back in from night duty and be Not Happy with teething issues*


*might also be surfing while calming the baby*



Oh man...


Jesus, what the fuck is that woman ON?

Well, if I didn't wanna see Watchmen before, I sure as hell do now. Especially after THIS piece of shit. I do believe my husband and I need to make an appointment for depravity. Huh. I need to ask him what his IQ is.

Crazy damn bitch.

Still, at least it detracts a little from knowin' that some've us are gonna be farmed out here, there an' everyfuckin'where soon. No definite names yet, an' no dates for leavin'. All we know is it WILL happen. Makin' us focus on our work more, though. At least I think so. (An' I haven't fucked up again like I did with that bastard Alpha, thank fuck. I could've fuckin' kicked my own ass for doin' that.)

*gives Christabel a little more of the bottle that she'd expressed before going on duty*

*reads a little more of the blogrant*

*grins, looks at Christabel*

Reckon you could take'r, Sweetie. No problem at all. An' we all need to start somewhere. After all, I've been told I can't give you a gun yet.


[Randomly, anyone can join in on this if they've got cause to be out at this hour of the am :D. xxx] [1/8/09]
[ mood | working ]

*gets a "WARNING" flash from Ciar, drops and spins to face the Vamp that's advancing on her from behind*

*lifts it telekinetically and throws it towards the railings, directing its descent to make sure it gets impaled good and proper*

*follows in, TKing a fallen, taper-ended tree branch to her, catches the branch, turns it so it now forms a stake, then TKs herself into the air to get the best leverage, and also so she can see the fucker's face just before it turns to dust*

*comes back to the ground once the job's done, shaking her head to get as much dust out of her hair as possible*

*looks round, GRINS at Ciar*

Looks like you'll be makin' your dad's birthday party after all. Actually, that reminds me, I've got somethin' for him... it's okay. It's perfectly respectable. Make sure I give it to you before you go see him tomorrow. Or Spence'll leave it on your desk.

You can also remind me to call Spence's mom. He's out on duty Sunday night and I'm damned if I'm lettin' a Friday AND a Saturday go by without us retreadin' old haunts. We ain't been to the Vault in longer'n I can remember an' I'm gettin' antsy.

That, of course, is if he can bear to be away from Christabel for a whole night. He's so damn besotted it's ridiculous. I'd be sick if it wasn't for the fact he's him and she's her. Did you know he insists on callin' her "The Lady". Damn, but it makes me melt when he does th...

An' I'll shut the fuck up again now, shall I?


*grins again when Ciar nods, turns and starts back towards the Journal with him*

35 * ???

[ mood | okay ]

*checks off dates on the calendar*

*checks again*

... damn.


I'm on night duty Christmas Eve AND Christmas Day? And on 26th as well?

Fuck. I suppose I can't complain since I whined enough about NOT bein' in work. But... damn. It's Christabel's first one...


I guess it's somethin' she'll need to get used to, though. An' at least she'll have her daddy, an' probably her grandparents.

But still...


[ mood | awake ]

*sings, loudly*

I so totally overate at dinner last night. But that's okay. I can work it off in the gym.

I sort of hope we don't get a call-out today, though. Tryin' to work through Black Friday... I don't even like shoppin' when the whole damn world around me's gone crazy. My trigger finger starts to twitch.

Oh come on, I'm just sayin' what everyone else feels. It's just as well I wasn't on duty tonight. I ain't goin' nowhere if I can help it.

*finishes getting Christabel sorted, then picks her up and heads for the door, TKing the filled baby bag behind them*

You wait. When you're big enough to brave the crowds, you'll be reachin' for the nearest gun as well. Trust me, me an' daddy'll make sure you do.

Right. Let's go hand you over to Auntie Helen.

*leaves the apartment door open when she goes out so Spence can get right in when he brings Orson and Godiva back from their morning walk*


[ mood | cheerful ]


If anythin' happens between now an' 7 o'clock to stop me, people will Suffer, no matter who they are.

(Shush. Of course I'm serious.)

God, I can't wait to get back out. Never thought I'd miss it as much as I have. Of course, I'll probably get all fuckin' mushy before the end've the night and start missin' Christabel... damn maternal hormones.

I haven't even been down to laugh at the Djinn. Not riskin' nothin'. Not sayin' it won't happen at some time or other, though. Bastard still owes me for fuckin' with my gun.

Should hit the gym for an hour, I guess. Can't hurt none.


[ mood | giggly ]


Okay. So we don't know Sean so well... at least, we do, just not as well as we know everyone else.

So we thought we'd go middle of the road an' get him some pretty safe, regular, totally inoffensive t-shirts.

We kinda got carried away, but we couldn't narrow it down any further than that.

I hope he's still speakin' to us when he opens them.

1 * ???

[ mood | cheerful ]

My little girl's a whole month old today.

Where did the time go?

I've already arranged for her care when I go back to work. She's goin' up to the school. Well, kinda. Obviously she's not gonna be takin' part in the lessons yet, I mean even I'm not quite that clueless. But we're gettin' a "nursery wing". An' I reckon it should be named after Christabel since she's the founder member.

Now I just need to get back to the office. Last week in the Blue Moon's got me hungry for it again. (The fucker messed with my gun. NOBODY messes with my gun an' gets away with it!)

PrivateCollapse )

So yeah. Work. Maybe I'll give 'em another two weeks, then I'll be back. Plus it'll give us time to sort out a space for her up in the school, an' get everythin' ready. Nothin' but the best for my girl, even if she does wake me up far too early on a Sunday mornin'.

She made the cutest ladybug ever on Hallowe'en. No, it wasn't my choice. Her granny Mortenson sent it for her. She was probably right, though. Everythin' we were thinkin' of would've been totally unsuitable.

But I'm still dressin' her as Gomez Addams next year.


[ mood | tired ]

My daughter is faulty. I cannot find her "off" switch, an' Elizabeth an' Lys gave her to me without the instruction book.

It's still VERY convenient (for her) that I actually know what it is she wants - most've the time - when she cries. I just need to brush up on the "actually gettin' it for her NOW!!!" bit. She eats like a horse - an' shits like one, too.

But when she's had her bath an' she's all snuggled up in her baby towel on my lap she smells like the sweetest thing on earth.

Besides her daddy, naturally. (He's probably more nervous than me, which is kinda reassurin')

The dogs're great with her (thanks, Aidan). Godiva seems to think she's a weird little furless puppy. Luckily Christabel seems to like bein' poked with cold wet noses an' havin' her cheek doggie-kissed.

I need pictures of this, actually. It's the cutest thing in the world.

Besides her daddy, naturally.


But I can't believe we've had her over a week already, I really can't. Where's the time gone? One minute she's so new she's still got all the disgusting vernix stuff an' blood coverin' her, an' now? An' she has SO MUCH HAIR! It's all dark an' soft an' so beautiful. I love playin' with it; curlin' it round my finger. First time she gets it cut I wanna keep a lock of it at least.

So yeah... a week, AN' more. October the tenth now.



Shit. SHIT!

It was Tawnie's birthday yesterday, an' I clean forgot.

Oh God, please let Spence have remembered an' bought Tawnie somethin' an' just forgotten to tell me. >.< Don't let me be one've those women who gains a child an' loses her damn mind.


[ mood | happy ]

Lemme sleep. Plenty've time t'bond later.


I'm jokin' damnit!

My God... how'd we ever manage to make this?


[ mood | bored ]

Apparently, according to somethin' I've just been watchin' on TV, the most common cause of death for pregnant women is murder, specifically by a partner.

I beg to differ.


I bet this program was put together by men.



And the owls have awakened the crowing cock [9/22/08]
[ mood | bored ]

There's a half hour left of my due date, then this little shit's officially late.

*pokes at stomach*

Come on! I've had enough now. Time you made a damn appearance! If I can't work I might as well give birth, for fucksake.


[ mood | NOT freaking, no. ]

They're back today, right?

They are back today? Because they need to be because've the Moon.

An' nothin's gone wrong. Somebody'd tell me if somethin'd gone wrong.

What the fuck possessed 'em to go away this close to me givin' birth, damnit?


... sorry.

Sorry, I'm bein' a bitch. I know I am. I blame the hormones. I'll make it up to EVERYONE once all this is over - PAINLESSLY!

An' DON'T tell me to go rest in the apartment. I'll stop comin' into the office when I can't get down the stairs anymore.

WHERE ARE THEY??? I only have 10 days to go - an' I was early!

I hope Aric an' Elizabeth won't mind me usin' the boots they gave me (DAMN, they're COOL) in a manner for which they were never intended.

18 * ???

[ mood | worried ]

Less'n four weeks to go, although apparently things still haven't "dropped".

Thank fuck for that, says I. I'm the last one to be a prude, God knows, but I could do without droppin' in the middle've the office.

No, I DO know what it means. It just sounds so... undignified.

(For some reason TOTALLY unknown to me, I'm terrified of my waters breakin' anywhere in public. What the fuck's all that about? Jesus, most've these people've seen me doin' FAR worse things - an' the things I've seen them doin' make goin' into labor look like a stroll in the park, too.)

An' I'll have a natural birth so long as Lys can do a total pain block on me. It still counts! She uses her wood, an' trees. Totally chemical free! No epidurals or spaced-out shit.

... I'll save that for afterwards.

I wonder if I'm supposed to actually stop work anytime soon? It's bad enough I can't go out on night duty. I sure as hell don't wanna be forced to do nothin' but waddle round the apartment.

Not that I'm waddlin'. To be honest, I kinda wanted to be HUGE, so that I could paint myself purple an' go to fancy dress parties as Violet Beauregarde. Then Spence could dress up as Willy Wonka an' we... better not go there.




*grin fades, searches frantically for a calendar*

FUCK! FUCK! Lys an' Aidan're due to go on vacation sometime.

Oh God... it's not soon, is it?

It can't be. They'll have to cancel. Or postpone. I can't do this without Lys (nothin' personal, Elizabeth).

Oh shit. Damn. Fuck.

An' should I pack a bag if I'm only movin' as far as the Infirmary?




[ mood | okay ]

I don't get why some women say they don't like the sensation of the baby movin' inside 'em. Kickin' an' punchin' and stuff.

I think it's great. It's like Real Life Alien. I could watch it for hours.

Except for when it gets its feel in between my ribs an' pulls.

No - I KNOW it's not possible.

But that's exactly what's happenin', damnit.

If this child comes out with bruised toes it'll be from the fact that I have to thump my damn stomach to get it to let go. I'm confessin' now. But it's all self-defense. There ain't a court in the land that'd convict me.

My back's startin' to ache noticeably now, too. It's been twingy for a while, but I'm startin' to not be able to ignore it now. Fucker. But at least I don't have any swollen fingers or feet - an' I can actually still see my feet, although I have to lean forward a little.

I guess we should start sortin' out one've the spare rooms - well, we're kinda stuck since I need one for my "personalized" weapons. So we don't have much've a choice. Stops arguments though, I guess.

Okay... anyone want iced tea?


[ mood | random, vague an' fadin' ]



I forgot Susan's birthday. An' I really didn't want to - she's been so kind, askin' after me an' the baby. If I'd been on night duty, Ciar'd have reminded me.

As it is I only overheard him today, worryin' in hindsight in case she didn't like his gift. Apparently, he got her some kinda black lacquered keepsake box/cabinet thing that fits on a dressin' table. Sounds... actually, it don't sound too bad at all. Could almost be somethin' I'd like. But chinoiserie's a bit've a hit an' miss style with me.

Anyhow, I'm gettin' off the subject (God, I've been ramblin' lately. I'm becomin' a walkin' fuckin' stereotype). Yeah. Gift. For Susan.

I'll get her somethin' at lunch. I've actually seen a couple blouses that are real nice. They'd suit her.

Now, if I could just remember where it was I saw the damn things...


[ mood | frustrated ]

*sits down after handing over details of a call which needs immediate investigation*

*NOT pleased*

I'm not disabled, damnit. I'm pregnant. I'm not even so BIG - apparently I have a superb tone which makes me a Lucky Bitch so I should stop complainin'.

I guess. *sighs*

But I just wanna kill somethin'... hell, just a severe maim would be better'n nothin'.

I wanna wear my dark blue corset, too... but that's another matter.

An' I know it's bad, but when I thought I was havin' contractions earlier in the week I was SO pleased. Because, y'know... Elizabeth can do wonders, Lys... hell, Lys can do magic. An' 31 week babies do okay nowadays anyhow. It'd've been absolutely fine. I have complete confidence in everyone who'd be involved.

I guess, right now, if I could choose somebody to kill it'd be the original Braxton-Hicks fucker who decided that, not only would bein' pregnant turn women into incapable fuckwits, but it'd destroy their capacity to tell when it's the real damn thing.

... I just hope I didn't interrupt anythin' too conjugal when I went round to Elizabeth's place.

... wonder if Sean'd let me throw him round the gym. He needs to train up after all, an' somethin' tells me he's not the Kid Gloves kinda guy.

I should tell Spence...

I will. After. He'd only worry.



[ mood | awake ]

*heads on up towards Tawnie's apartment where she's to meet up with Elizabeth and let the Wards down*

Another Moon over - an' no crazy-mad injuries that I've been told of. So I guess that's good. I didn't really feel so much out've it this Moon since I wouldn't've been on duty for it anyhow, so I guess that was okay. Kinda.

I should be out Monday though. I don't like missin' the fun, even if part of me's kinda... I dunno. Ready to slow down a little, maybe? For a short while anyhow. Come Monday I'll be 31 weeks - weeks to go'll be down to single figures. That's a little hard to process.

Also, is it possible to have cravin's that aren't food-related? In fact, not taste-related at all? I'm goin' through this "thing" where everythin' about me's got to be smellin've roses. No, I don't get it either. But I've even been buyin' rose-scented room an' linen sprays. I'm sure it's drivin' Spence crazy, although the dogs seem okay so far.

But I don't even like roses.

I believe the question is, "WTF???"

Okay... *reaches Tawnie's door before Elizabeth*... Wards first, then go survey any damage.

I should really quit complainin', shouldn't I? I mean, at least I know this'll end, for me.


*starts removing the Wards*

1 * ???

[ mood | clearly sick in the head ]

*washes plates and cups from earlier since it's making her twitch to leave them any longer and she's expecting Elizabeth and possibly Tawnie round for one of their "Girls' Nights In While The Boys Are Out" nights*

*sings to herself*

"I hear Jerusalem bells a-ringing
Roman Cavalry choirs are singing
Be my mirror, my sword, my shield
My missionaries in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
I know Saint Peter won't call my name
Never an honest word
And that was when I ruled the world"

*stops, blinks*

Fuck... that was Coldplay!

*glares down at Orson*

Don't you dare tell Daddy what I was just doin'. If he found out I'd have to wash my mouth out with soap. Y'hear me, Furface?

Huh. Maybe I should think've scalin' down the work hours even more if I'm this out've it now.

(Damnit, I DON'T like that damn song. I don't. I DON'T! >.<)


[ mood | justified ]

*walks back into the office with Noel, carrying snacky contributions*

*looks at Noel*

What? He deserved it.

I see anybody takin' a baseball bat to a dog that's restrained so tight it can't even begin to defend itself, I'm not gonna just walk on past. He deserved bein' bounced off of a few walls. Besides, it's not as though anyone's gonna be able to pin it on me. I didn't even get closer'n ten feet to him, never mind touch him.

*grins when Noel holds his hands up and tells her he's on HER side*

Yeah, well. Far's I'm concerned, fuckers like that deserve as much as any've the Vamps an' Pack Wolves. They're no better.

An' the SPCA'll get that poor dalmation the treatment he needs, an' find him a better home.

I'm just sorry I left the bastard alive.

An' don't look at me like that. I'm pregnant. I'm supposed to be hormonal.


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