Bishop, Olivia and Charlie, 9:30 PM
Currently the Hellhounds Chaplain is doing a fine job of ignoring the chorus of ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs’ that seem to be following him around as he winds his way through the maze of game booths and carnival rides. Bishop only spares a couple glances over his shoulder at the camp bitches responsible for the noise, quirking an eyebrow at them before asking. “You can’t possibly tell me you ain’t ever seen a man holding a baby before,” and that’s just it, the chorus of adoring noises was in fact not for him, but for the little guy currently keeping him company.
“We haven’t ever seen you with a baby before,” Cherry fires back.
“It really ain’t that unusual of a sight, darlin',” Bishop remarks, still moving away from the women, even while he can see the cogs in Cherry’s mind spinning, calculating something, though what only God knows.
Shamelessly he had scooped Charlie up out of Bunny’s arms just minutes earlier, his long dormant ‘uncle’ instincts kicking in, making it about time he got a chance to be in the presence of the youngest inhabitant of the Dog Park. Most of his own nieces and nephews were long past the diaper stage of life, but he found that holding a baby was just about like riding a bike – you never quite forgot how to do it. So, after ‘rescuing’ him as Bishop had put it once they were out of earshot of Bunny and Nate, the youngest member of the Hawkins family found himself playing ‘dodge the camp bitches’ with Bishop.
Soon enough it would seem the bitches grew bored of fawning over the Chaplain and his tiny companion, though. Leaving Bishop free to carry on a conversation with Charlie in peace. Sure, the baby merely babbled and cooed his responses, but in Bishop’s opinion it was still more of an intelligent conversation than he’d ever get out of Cherry.
“What do you think, Charlie, should we go see if we can best some poor prospect at ring toss?” Bishop asks, gaze trained on the little bundle of a human in his arms. “Or should we go get ourselves a funnel cake? I promise I won’t let your mama know I gave you some powdered sugar off of the thing.” Charlie's response is merely to blink his blue eyes at Bishop and reach out to take hold of his beard. "Now, am I suppose to take that as a yes?" Again, the question is met with a lopsided baby smile and a tug on his beard.
Finding that his question won't be answered adequately by his little companion, Bishop loops and away from Charlie, eyes searching the crowd to see if he might find an adult who could weigh in on the very important decision that needs to be made. When he does this Bishop catches sight of a vaguely familiar face – an LBJ scout if he’s not mistaken. “What do you think, darlin', should he and I hit up the ring toss or get ourselves some food?” he directs his question at the young woman, raising his voice just loud enough to be heard over the every present noise of the makeshift carnival.