xp_logs | [Artie, Marie] ~like family~

Thursday morning before classes. Marie invites Artie on vacation with herself and Logan, they discuss Artie's names for people and the lethal nature of laundry.

"There you are," Marie said brightly, poking her head into the boys' room where Artie sat on the floor, pulling on his shoes. She hadn't seen Miles in a while but knew from Alison that the little boy was staying with Cain while things blew over with Betsy. That couldn't have been too easy on Artie and her theories on that front were confirmed by the sudden attachment of a ten-year old boy around her waist, one shoe off and one shoe on.

"Hey, honey," she rubbed her hand across Artie's short hair. She wasn't sure what had prompted the recent crewcut but she had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with his habit of going to sleep with gum in his mouth. Artie patted her hip in greeting, unwilling to relinquish the hug just yet. Marie pulled him into her lap, crossing her legs and simply hovering in mid-air with the child in her lap. "Spring break's coming, eh?"

Artie shrugged dismissively. *Tumbleweed blows through the abandoned foyer of the school.*

Marie laughed and gave Artie a squeeze. "Logan and I are going away again, to the cottage," she told him. While she spoke she marvelled at how fast the little boy was growing. He was all slender, lanky arms and bony joints, like a little colt. It wouldn't be long before he was her height.

*Artie sits on the front steps of the school, watching the car drive away, his chin in his hands, looking morose.* The boy wriggled a little to put his other shoe on while sitting in Marie's lap.

"Well, how would you like to come with us this time? You and Miles."

Artie almost fell off of Marie's lap and the image disappeared. ~true~ he signed.

"Yeah, true," Marie said. "You, me, Miles, and Logan could all go to the cottage for a little while. Alison says it's okay with her and Charles says it's okay with him."

~v.a.c.a.t.i.o.n?~ Artie finger-spelled, still looking disbelieving.

"Yep. Now, I'm warning you," she said solemnly. "It might be a little boring, because it's so quiet out there and all."

*Artie and Miles play videogames on a couch, jostling each other and laughing.*

"Yeah, we can bring your stuff so you can play if it rains," Marie conceded. "But I'm sure we'll all find things to do together too."

~like family?~

"Just like that," Marie said, hugging Artie to her again.

~logan wants~ His sign for Logan was a '3' with the fingers of the right hand drawn across the back of his left fist as though something were emerging from the back of his hand.

"Yeah, he does. It'll be good for him," Marie assured Artie.

~grumpy~ Artie noted. ~no fun~

Marie laughed. "I think he just needs a buddy to show him how to cut that grumpy stuff out."

~me~ Artie grinned at her. ~me and Miles~ Miles' name was an 'M' with the right hand placed over the heart.

"I like how you say people's names," Marie noted. "What's Alison's name?"

~alison~ An 'A' drawn down the edge of his hairline from the temple and then off the jaw with a flourish. It was easily recognizable as a variation on the signs for beauty or lady.

"Very appropriate," Marie said with a smile.

~you~ Artie tapped her shoulder. ~marie~ An 'M' with the right hand was brushed gently across the back of his left hand, a variant on touch. It puzzled her, but she nodded.

"You've pretty much got everyone set, don't you?" Marie said with some pride. Artie nodded, smiling. "Do you write them down?"

Artie shook his head. *Artie stands next to Doug, signing, and Doug makes notes on his computer.*

"Well, we'll make sure to keep up that good work while we're on vacation." Marie kissed Artie's hair and he wiggled, making the sign for 'cooties' that had become ubiquitous among the students, then jumped down to the ground. "I can take a hint." She unfolded her legs and dropped to the floor herself. "Get to class. I'll help you with your laundry later, okay, kiddo?"

*Artie lies under a heap of dirty socks with his tongue hanging out dramatically, feigning death.*

"It will not kill you to do the laundry, Artie," Marie called after him as he scampered down the hall.