☠ 039

[molotov]

[Molotov had really been expecting it to happen a little earlier. But when she wakes up, she notices the distinct sound of playing. In a room that had been mostly sealed up until now. She throws her robe on, then goes to make sure that her suspicions are correct.]

Mama!

[Molotov holds her arms out for the now-three-year-old Andropov, and lifts her up.]

Let's go wake up Daddy, huh?


--

[Later on, the three are out and about, doing... family stuff. Molotov mostly wants to lord the fact that her child is perfect and wonderful and gorgeous over people. Come say hi?]

Comments

[samson]

Well, your hair's Red Vines.

[molotov]

That makes no sense.

[samson]

Makes as much sense as scrambled eggs. [They are children.]

[molotov]

Your hair looks like scrambled eggs. Same color and everything. My hair does not look like Red Vines.

[samson]

Wow, Molotov, that's racist. [Against blonds!!! He's joking though, even if his inflection is deadpan. He also casually eats more pancake, yum.]

[molotov]

[Molotov leans back and crosses her legs. She is not going to finish her pancakes. Calories!!!!!!!]

Only against you.

[samson]

I don't know if that's a thing.

[Brock keeps eating his pancakes because he's a fatty.]

[molotov]

I am a Brock-ist, I admit it.

[samson]

[pfff] Then why'd you marry me?

[molotov]

Desperation. I should have held out.

[samson]

You didn't want to wind up an even older spinster, huh?

[molotov]

You are insane if you think I could not have found another man.

[samson]

[SUDDENLY SERIOUS] Don't talk about that.

[molotov]

[Molotov squints, then abruptly turns to Andropov] Go watch a movie, pchelka. Take your food, but do not spill any.

[She waits until Andropov is gone before looking back at Brock.] Do not do that. Do not tell me what I can and cannot talk about. And if you have a problem with the fact that I could have other men, you better handle that on your own.

[samson]

I don't think it's weird that I don't like thinking about you with other men, Molotov.

[molotov]

Oh, you do not? How unfortunate for you. I did it for twenty years. You can suffer the occasional joke.

[samson]

[He sighs, running his hand down his face.] Look, that was different ... that wasn't here, we weren't in a relationship.

[molotov]

So it is okay for you to actually have done all of that because we were not in a relationship, but I cannot make a joke about something I never actually did?

You sound insecure.

[samson]

Sometimes I can't tell if you're joking.

[molotov]

That is not my problem!

[samson]

[sotto] Hey, keep your voice down.

[molotov]

[Molotov glares, but quiets down a little.] Stop being an asshole!

[samson]

Look. [He slides his hands over toward her on the table, though he wasn't really expecting her to take them.]

I know I'm jealous. Okay? But you're mine, and I don't even like joking about you being with somebody else.

[molotov]

[She does not take his hands. She is still annoyed.]

Well, I do not want you to forget that I did not have to wait for you.

[samson]

So you make jokes that pretty clearly upset me?