2020-03-04 - Enfants Terribles
Vyv tasks his assistant with making sure Grant makes it out of the ER in one (preferably unscarred) piece, and learns Rebecca's planning other people to take care of as well.
IC Date: 2020-03-04
OOC Date: 2019-11-13
Location: In The Ether
Related Scenes: 2020-03-04 - It's Not a Bug, It's a Feature
Plot: None
Scene Number: 4479
Just because Vyv is on the other side of an ocean doesn't mean Rebecca gets more time off. Not while telephones and texting exist! Plus, none of the normal things that need doing have stopped just because he isn't there. Well, except dry cleaning. His clothing keeps itself clean quite nicely when he isn't there to wear it. The texts don't always pay much attention to the time difference, though at least the ones that show up in the wee hours aren't ones that require immediate response. This one, however, shows up in the early afternoon.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Apparently your cousin's managed to get himself bitten by a venomous spider. He's at the ER. Make sure he doesn't manage any permanent damage, would you?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Cousin? Which cousin? Apparently I have about 400 of them in this town.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Have you? I'll require a list. Bax, in this case.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Bax...Grant? The artist?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Yes, that would be the one. Frequently purple hair. Nom de guerre of 'Crotchbiter'. That one.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: God help us all if this still leaves some question.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: No, no. Crotchbiter cemented the identity. What sort of venomous spider? Should I have our apartments seen by pest control?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: I don't know, one with an abdominal pattern that vaguely recalls burl wood furniture. We haven't been formally introduced. I suppose I could forward you a picture if you like. Regardless, no, it was in his garage, where he ought to have left it.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Send the photo, I’ll look it up and make sure he’s getting a proper course of treatment. I didn’t realize you’d become friends with my cousin.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: [IMG: A funky-looking spider with a spotted abdomen]
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Don't we know anyone who can just sort it out?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: That is a brown widow. The bite will hurt and the symptoms won’t be pleasant but it isn’t life-threatening to anything bigger than a Lhasa Apso. He should be ok. I do not have the healing art. I think Itzhak’s friend Roen does though.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Yes, I suspected if there were much chance it was lethal he wouldn't have had time to get bored in the waiting room and draw a detailed galleon on his coffee cup. Still, any time the word 'necrosis' enters the conversation, things are likely suboptimal.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Did I mention he managed to get himself bitten on the face?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: I believe that is caused by the brown recluse, not the widow. It has a neurotoxin.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Well, what with being 4000-some miles away, I can't precisely check the accuracy. All I know is what he's said.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Right, I'll go to the ER and make sure he's all right. Anything else you need?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Keep me up to date, I suppose. Anything interesting going on there I don't know about?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Things in the shop are good. Things in town? Well it's Gray Harbor. The plants seem to be particularly fiesty with the coming of Spring.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Good, they'd better be. The things in the shop, that is. The feistiness of flora is... hm. What kind of feisty are we discussing here? More unexpected engagements, or are we trending more Little Shop of Horrors?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: The latter. This is why I have no houseplants. Well not really, I don't have time to care for them but, I'm glad I don't now.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: I do. They might need checking on; I don't want to come back to The Flat of the Triffids.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: I'll hire someone from Roen's shop to come check them, will that suffice?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: I'd think so. Seems their sort of area.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Very well then. How is everything overseas?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Approximately how I last left it, I suppose. My grandmother has not undergone any unexpected metamorphoses and continues to unsubtly indicate her opinion I ought to induce Hyacinth to marry me at the first possible opportunity, though arguably sitting through disapproval might be worse.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: On the other hand, my tailors haven't mystically transformed either and everything there's proceeding apace. Claridge's has a new patissier, MOF, though I've not had the chance to drop by and see his work yet. Some interesting exhibits at the V&A, and the hotel is making me contemplate the benefits of having footmen. So all in all... not too bad. Not a single feisty plant of any sort thus far.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: That sounds absolutely blissful. Other than the part about your grandmother. Though I can understand why she'd put Ms. Addington on the very top of any list of whom to marry you off to. She still doesn't understand you don't lean that way?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: She knows, she just doesn't care. Apparently it's not got in the way of ancient lineages across the nations since time immemorial so why should it begin to now?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: And how does she expect you to consummate? Or is that not an issue. Just lie back and think of England or what not?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: ...essentially, yes, I think that's what she expects. Quite possibly literally including the thinking of England portion of the proceedings. Love of country is all very well but I suspect very few people love it quite that way. Certainly I don't.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: That whole British stiff upper lip applied to the lower anatomy? I'm sorry, this is tickling my funny bone. I suppose there is always artificial insemination. I've been researching that myself.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Ha. Yes, I suppose so. And if I were ever to do such a thing I suppose it would be some sort of in vitro situation, yes. But of course the problem with having children is children. I'm not sure there are enough nannies in the world to make that bearable.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: ...wait, have you been researching it for yourself?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Yes. My brother and his wife just had a son. And with everything that's gone on in the last year, I'm thinking of having a baby. I want to have a child to name after my sister, and I just turned 27. The next two years would be the prime time for me to have a child safely. And holding my newborn nephew apparently made my hormones decide to remind me I am female and should be propagating the species.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Mm. That sounds inconvenient. I suppose if one's going to do it, doing it when safest is logical, but all that mess and noise and you won't have a proper moment to yourself for ages, you know. And how will you work?
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: You pay me more than well enough for proper childcare while I work, Vyv. And just look. My nephew.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: They do always look a bit like Winston Churchill. Though not a bad head of hair on that one, I suppose.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: Winston Churchill did not smell like new baby, I am fairly certain. Do you think I will be a terrible mother or something?
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: No, I'm sure you'll do fine. You're competent and organized and handle people well, and I am assured that children already qualify as people. I just don't understand the desire to be around any of them on purpose. They're loud and sticky and generally terrible conversationalists.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: I’m dating Itzhak Rosencrantz.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Somewhat loud. Is he also sticky and a terrible conversationalist? I can't say we've managed to interact that directly very much.
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: At times, but not in a bad way. And babies are the same for me. Also I’m told when it is your own, the feelings are much stronger.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: I will grant these are all things that might possibly get the occasional pass when they show up attached to fully-formed people we'd rather like to take to bed. Though not all at once, and never with diapers involved, thank you.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: I recognize some people need to enjoy the larval stages or the species would die out. And I will be over here, ready to be introduced when they reach their 18th year. ...or possibly 21st.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: When they may end up in the ER for not leaving spiders alone to continue their happy lives in the garage. 🙄
(TXT to Vyv) Rebecca: I’ll be sure to keep them out of your sight, Vyv. Now, I need to drive to the ER to take care of cousin Grant. I’ll update you later.
(TXT to Rebecca) Vyv: Thank you. On all counts. Anyway, better you than many, I suppose, if you want to put yourself through that. If taste and efficiency aren't hereditary, perhaps you can teach it. Drive safely.
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