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history of poisons

History of Poisons, Thursday Per 2

Class was once again in a Danger Shop meadow. This time, instead of being surrounded by poisonous plants, there were easels set up surrounded by various art supplies. Oils, watercolors, pastels, and, of course, charcoals. She couldn't leave that out. There was also a stranger sitting in the middle, in front of his own easel with a palette of oil paints.

"So, we're taking it easy this week," Karla said, likely to the surprise of no one. "I can't see any of us looking to discuss poisons today. Draw, paint, color--do whatever you want to do. Paint through your trauma if that's your thing, paint anything that catches your fancy if it isn't. Or, if you'd prefer, watch Mr. Ross paint whatever he has planned today. Relax and enjoy your day." She nodded to a table full of ~~moddable~~ snacks. "Eat up. No tricks, no sneakiness, nothing to watch out for today. Just have a good day, okay?"

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"Threesome thing?" Karla looked blankly up at Kenzi for a moment before cracking up. "Oh, did that get to you?" she asked. "Can you believe I was responding to the pony? She called me up about sleeping with someone."

Kenzi stopped to re-evaluate that, and blinked very hard. "That message makes wayyyy more sense now... up to a point. Because now I wonder who propositioned Pinkie."

BZUH.

"I'm sorry, that's not something I want to think of," Karla retorted, pulling open the bags and marveling over the first unicorn. The second got a smirk. And the third--that got a weird look and she was quickly shoving it back into the bag. It had creepy and demented eyes. "Even if it happened accidentally."

"I love crazy phone day. Hopefully some people are still wondering why the angels have the phonebox. And hey! Don't you want to look at that again?" Kenzi grinned wickedly. "It's a rhino-unicorn! It's very special!"

"Special is definitely one word for it," Karla said, taking another peek into the bag. "Are you trying to give my daughter nightmares? Is this because of the wedding magazines? Is that why you hate my baby girl?"

"I bet you she loves it lots," Kenzi said loftily. "And of course not! Who hates babies? Especially if they're not your own?"

Somewhere, Vlad the Evil was giving his possible future mum the side-eye.

"Although that *was* over the top with those magazines. But see, I'm making nice. Intact horse-type things for your daughter, instead of just a head."

Karla groaned. "That was stupid and terrifying," she said, scowling. "That was mean. Brat. No cookies for you."

She gestured towards the table. In case Kenzi wanted to ignore her and grab one. Just saying.

"Five thousand wedding magazines," Kenzi reminded her, because that was totally more than enough payback. She wandered in the direction of the table, looking innocent. "How is your baby spawn, anyway? Is she teething? I've heard they do that. And bite."

Some of her baby cousins were fairly terrifying.

"Definitely teething," Karla said, not at all fooled by the innocence. That was when Kenzi was at her least trustworthy, dammit. "Not biting yet, thank the Darkness."

Knowing her mother, though, biting was almost certainly in her future.

"Right now it's mostly drooling, crying, and generally being miserable. Last week didn't help with any of those, really."

"Awwww, poor baby witchspawn," what cookie, I don't see any cookies missing, I think your eyesight is off now. "They don't make magic Anbesol for that? Or vodka?" Wait. "That's not bad parenting, rubbing vodka on the gums, right? ... Wow, Mia is lucky I'm only her alterna-mom, and not her real mom."

Mia would be 3 now, wherever she was, with that other Kenzi.

"We have numbing gels," Karla said. "But she just drools it off. And I would never put vodka on my baby's gums."

She sniffed disdainfully.

"Warren insists on brandy. Or scotch."

"Fancy. Schmancy," Kenzi teased. "So when do I get to meet the teeny witch? You ever bring her to school with you?"

Nom nom nom, oh hey, now she has a cookie. Nyaaah!

GEE WHEREVER DID SHE GET THAT FROM KARLA WONDERED?

"I did, actually," Karla said. "I have a playpen in my office for her, actually. But she was here all last week and that was...less than good. So we'll probably be keeping her off-island for a bit ~~at least until her brother shows up for AU kids~~."

"Aww. Oh well. Next time she's here, text me, so I can fill her with sugar and give her back." Kenzi grinned. "Or take her on swings!"

Someday she might have children who would make her regret those choices. Not yet, though.

"She's only five months old, Kenzi," Karla said, laughing. "Not old enough for sugar or swings yet. If I give her to you, you're just going to get a wiggly, fussy, occasionally stinky sack of potatoes."

A completely adorable one, but still. Sack of potatoes.

"Enh." Kenzi wrinkled her nose. Then grinned. "We'll think of something."

"Well, that idea just filled me with horror, thank you, Kenzi," Karla laughed. "All Auntie Kenzi visits must be supervised. New rule."

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History of Poisons, Thursday Per 2

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