Post by Kennedy on Aug 17, 2011 10:21:33 GMT -5
Kennedy was on the floor with Nevada, trying to not scream around her fingers. It fucking hurt, but she could lift her arm again.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Thank you," she gasped, wincing.
"KENNEDY DARLING, IS THAT YOU, SWEETHEART?" her mother called from the bedroom.
"Y-Yeah Mom! One second," she whispered to Nevada. She struggled to get to her feet and stumbled to the door. She opened it with a crack.
"Yeah, Ma?" she mumbled.
"DEAR! LOOK AT THE STATE OF YOU!" Kennedy's father cried just as grandly.
"HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYING NICE WITH THE OTHER KIDS?" her mother asked, although it was clear Kennedy had just gone through a personal hell. Her parents were like that though -- artists and devoid of sense, even more than her.
"Yeah, Ma. Ma, Dad, I have company right now. So either put on some clothes or stay in here." She knew they'd pick the latter.
"WE CANNOT MEET YOUR FRIENDS TODAY, KENNEDY DEAR," -- they never did -- "YOUR FATHER'S GENIUS IS EXPLODING FROM HIS PAINTBURSH AND I CANNOT MOVE NOR CAN HE UNTIL HIS PAINTING IS COMPLETED." They always talked like they were on stage, and it confused Kennedy every single time.
"...Yes, Mom."
"HOW DO YOU THINK IT LOOKS, KITTEN?" her dad boomed, gesturing to the nude painting of her mother. As usual, to get into the right frame of mind -- or whatever excuse it was -- her dad was naked too.
"Very nice, Dad. Her breasts are particularly full today."
"THANK YOU, SWEETHEART!"
"...Yeah. Okay. I'm gonna go play now," she said, then urgently slammed the door. Her face was red as she turned to Nevada. "We should give him a bath," she said in a rush, going over to the sink and turning it on.
((Haha sorry I know it's long -- as I was telling Rae I wanted Kennedy's parents to be simultaneously the reason she is who she is while giving her a fucked up family life that's very different from the other newsies. All you want/need to know about Kennedy is in this post.))
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Thank you," she gasped, wincing.
"KENNEDY DARLING, IS THAT YOU, SWEETHEART?" her mother called from the bedroom.
"Y-Yeah Mom! One second," she whispered to Nevada. She struggled to get to her feet and stumbled to the door. She opened it with a crack.
"Yeah, Ma?" she mumbled.
"DEAR! LOOK AT THE STATE OF YOU!" Kennedy's father cried just as grandly.
"HAVE YOU BEEN PLAYING NICE WITH THE OTHER KIDS?" her mother asked, although it was clear Kennedy had just gone through a personal hell. Her parents were like that though -- artists and devoid of sense, even more than her.
"Yeah, Ma. Ma, Dad, I have company right now. So either put on some clothes or stay in here." She knew they'd pick the latter.
"WE CANNOT MEET YOUR FRIENDS TODAY, KENNEDY DEAR," -- they never did -- "YOUR FATHER'S GENIUS IS EXPLODING FROM HIS PAINTBURSH AND I CANNOT MOVE NOR CAN HE UNTIL HIS PAINTING IS COMPLETED." They always talked like they were on stage, and it confused Kennedy every single time.
"...Yes, Mom."
"HOW DO YOU THINK IT LOOKS, KITTEN?" her dad boomed, gesturing to the nude painting of her mother. As usual, to get into the right frame of mind -- or whatever excuse it was -- her dad was naked too.
"Very nice, Dad. Her breasts are particularly full today."
"THANK YOU, SWEETHEART!"
"...Yeah. Okay. I'm gonna go play now," she said, then urgently slammed the door. Her face was red as she turned to Nevada. "We should give him a bath," she said in a rush, going over to the sink and turning it on.
((Haha sorry I know it's long -- as I was telling Rae I wanted Kennedy's parents to be simultaneously the reason she is who she is while giving her a fucked up family life that's very different from the other newsies. All you want/need to know about Kennedy is in this post.))
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