Just a bit I had written about a little RP snip that happened one afternoon at random. I do like to keep track of how my guys react to stuff Off-screen. Makes it easier to get back into their perspective. :)
"Free to good Home"
Looking back on it, it was an otherwise very uneventful day. The vampire and the werwolf had been caught brawling on the lawn again, a few cuts and scratches on each, but nothing serious. No broken bones from gym class, no accidental explosions in the science wing, or people being turned into newts in the magic department. Not that I could help much with the newt-thing anyway, I'm a doctor, not a veternarian.
I don't get called to the school cafeteria often, though like the rest of the staff I eat there regularly, the chef is excellent. So it was with great surprise when I arrived not to find a kitchen accident, a choking or the aftermath of a foodfight, but a baby swaddled in tea towels being spoonfed mash by the chef, and several very confused clones. A cardboard box sat on the counter above the trash compacter, stained and damp with "Free to Good Home" written in black marker on one of the flaps.
"Some people do not make good parents," The chef was explaining as I hurried in, and he nodded at me. "Ah Jorge. The clones found a baby."
The identical girls nodded, looking concerned and confused. "We thought," "was kittens," "maybe." Their communal way of speaking takes some getting used to but their work with the school's speech therapist seems to be helping, they are a lot more understandable then they used to be.
Now I have some issues with the clones, or rather their original, their "elder sister". I think she's quite dangerous and a bad influence on the others... though if that's a defect on her part, or springs from the man she and her sisters were created from - a rather notorious villain, I'm told- I don't rightly know. We have several theories floating around the Infirmary about them and their creator, but nothing we can easily confirm.
But that's a bit beside the point. The clones while violent, loud, rambunctious and surprisingly cruel, especially to themselves, also show a kind streak, feeding stray cats in the area, and helping those less fortunate that they happen to meet.
When they do have a problem, or something they can't handle, they do have enough sense to come, and ask for help.
Apperently, scrounging for recyclables in the nearby alleys they found a baby. As a doctor I know more then a few reasons why someone might give up a child this way, and most of them aren't good. It was lucky they found him when they did, his chances of surviving more then a day or two alone, on the street would have been very low.
"We find!" "Box beside dumpster." "It made a noise." "We thought it was kittens... but it not." The girls gestured as one toward the baby in the chef's arms, small and dirty and obviously hungry. "We bring here." "...not know what else do."
The chef handed him to me and I looked him over- nothing seemed to be wrong, other then how he'd been found. A closer examination could wait until I got him back to the infirmary.
The boy snuggled in my arm happily, his head in the crook of my elbow. I assured the chef and the clones I could take care of him... I come from a large family, it wasn't the first time I've held a little one. The chef nodded and packed up a bowl of the mash for him then set about cleaning the kitchen where baby and box had been, given the sad state of the box, it was needed.
"What happen to" "Free?" The clones turned to me, one wiggling her long fingers at the baby.
"Free?" I asked, not quite understanding.
A third clone pointed at the box. "Free to Good Home. Him Free."
"We're not keeping him." The chef frowned, squirted a bit of cleaner on the countertop, and said instantly. "Stray cats are one thing, a human baby is entirely different. No."
The girls looked disappointed, but didn't argue. Free burbled a little in my arm as we spoke as I mentally reviewed the number of people I'd need to call about this, not just Child Services, but the Police as well...
The chef moved off to shoo the clones from his kitchen and finish preparing supper. I heard the girls in the cafeteria talking about the "Bald baby in the box." It occured to me then that this might be the first human baby they had actually seen, in person, not on the television or at a distance. No wonder they were so confused by finding him! I made another mental note to have one of the nurses come by their dorm and talk to them about it.
Shortly thereafter I took him and the box back to the infirmary with me, and while we didn't have anything for a patient in his size, the student body being significantly older, we made do. I borrowed a pram so the nurses and I could watch him while he slept. I knew he'd only be with us a few days at most.
After being cleaned properly, fed and snuggled, played with and held, he was a much happier baby. He was asleep when the lady from Child Services entered the lobby. We get inspected regularly, not simply because we are a school, but as a school for supers and meta-humans, we have a higher then average injury level per student. I don't think that surprises anyone, but it has to be checked into all the same.
Plus more then a few of the students have a villain in the family -not just the clone girls- and while this is kept quiet, those students are monitored as well, just to be on the safe side. It isn't unheard of for our students to be kidnapped or used as leverage for their family. Luckily we have more then a few supers on our staff, and those students are usually returned quickly, and unharmed.
Free was checked over again- he didn't like being woken up and cried some. Forms were filled out reviewed and the staff and I interviewed. She left, telling us when she'd be back to pick him up and place him properly in an orphanage.
We all knew that would happen, but while he was with us Free was doted on by the staff. Even the clones pooled their lunch-money and brought him a couple plushies, nearly bigger then he was. I think they felt rather sorry for him. In some ways their situation and his were not dissimilar.
Then he was gone, whisked away in a van bearing an official looking seal on the door, and life in the school infirmary returned to more normal ways. Not that it was ever quite 'normal', given this particular school, but the bumps and bruises we treated were of the usual variety.
Nearly a month later it came as quite a surprise to me one afternoon as I sat filing paperwork at the front desk, when, quite unannounced the lady from Child Services returned. Smiling, she slid a glossy photograph across to me. It was Free, clean and happy, laughing when the shot was taken, in a handsome puppy-dog sleeper, clutching one of the plushies.
"He's quite the character." She said to me. "He's been adopted- we've found a good family for him. I thought your students would like to know."
Later that day I brought the picture up to the clone's dorm, high up on the eighteenth floor. I'd shown it to the rest of the staff earlier, they too had been quite happy. But the clones found him, I thought they ought to keep it.
Their floor was built to accomodate them, as they were all nearly eight feet tall, with furniture to match. Several of the other floors were constructed with our more special students in mind, but the top floor belonged to the clones, forty of them enrolled. I didn't envy the chef trying to feed them all, and the rest of the school as well.
They passed the photo hand to hand, exclaiming in delight and surprise. Then the last moved into their kitchenette, picked up a pen and carefully wrote "Free" and the date on the back, and proudly attached it to the side of their refrigerator, with their crayon drawings and glued-macaroni pictures, held on with glow-in-the-dark letter magnets. The others, gathered around me, towering over me, nodded their approval.
"Free." "Him find" "Good home."