just when you think you've seen it all - closed

[lionheartedman]

WHO: Cullen, Leliana, Josie, and Cassandra
WHAT: meeting of the advisors
WHEN: now-ish? /waves hands all wibbly about time
WHERE: War Room

Cullen's afternoon has gotten away from him somewhat, but he's sure he'll be forgiven. Each of them knows what being in this position demands, and how incredibly impossible it makes it to have any sort of real plan for your day, or even for your life. Still, he's not expecting the wildly different facial expressions and the troubling amount of concern he can practically feel hit him in the face when he opens the door to the War Room. "All right. What's this little problem?" More importantly… "Why was little underlined twice? If this is about the nug infestation, I anticipate a rather... unpleasant argument."

Comments

[lionheartedman]

"I can look after a child. I mean, I'm not--" He wasn't volunteering, and he frowns at Josephine. He's hardly the best choice for a child's wellbeing. Even if he can't deny that he is a first rate choice for protector. For all his shortcomings, and Cullen knows they are many and varied, he is a force to be reckoned with once a sword is in his hand. "Charter is not at all suitable. Poisons everywhere. A toddler will get into that inside a day. No, it's not at all--"

The women are spared another of Cullen's built up blustery... whatever that was, when the door opens and a messenger enters with the hand of a small boy clasped in his. "Apologies for the interruption, but the child..."

The little boy looks up at the four assembled adults with wide, sad eyes. "I'm hungry."

"That's all he's said all morning. I don't--" Cullen can see the rest of the the statement hanging in the air. Don't know what to do with a child. He nods his head toward the door and the man takes the small sign with gratitude and flees.

Cullen looks from the boy to the women in front of him, then produces an apple he's been meaning to get around to eating all day, and a knife, beginning to cut small sections from it. "We can't entrust this endeavour to someone of... questionable nurturing instincts." All right, so the sentence is a mess, but the words are all hopefully too large for a small child to understand. A small child who's wandered closer at the appearance of the apple, and is waiting quietly for a slice to be handed to him. 'Poor sad little thing,' Cullen thinks. 'Must be so overwhelmed.'