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 Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2015 9:07 pm
When Mimsy first woke there had been only panic, like the lingering fear after a nightmare, but much more real. She was convinced she could still feel it, still hear it, and had she not calmed enough to go back to sleep, she would have been sick again at the sensation of something uninvited in her head. The second time she opened her eyes, the blurry sight of the room was accompanied by the scent of breakfast. This already seemed to be setting things right again - there were no immediate thoughts of the vines dragging her, no searing pain behind her eyes. Her glasses seemed to be missing, however, which was not that surprising given the circumstances. After stretching and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she fished her spare pair out of the dresser drawer and wandered into the kitchen, looking far less willing to greet the day than she typically did. The juice and food that had already been prepared was ignored as she moved directly to Robert, and when she reached him she dropped her head forward to lean it against him, staying silent for a moment longer. "What happened?" Even her voice was uncharacteristically groggy, still hoarse and sore from screaming for help. "Did you bring me home? I don't remember... ah, I died again, didn't I." With great resignation, she added another death to the tally.
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Posted: Thu Oct 15, 2015 9:24 pm
The sound of the grill cooking a pancake got louder as he shook it, and flipped one of them. She appeared between the flip, and he set the pan down immediately. She looked tired, and grumpy, and absolutely perfect. As usual. His hands pressed against both of her cheeks, picked up her tired head between them, and bent in to press a long, needy good morning kiss against her lips. He took his time with it, because he could always make another pancake, and only after some time did he finally end the kiss. "I did." He told her, still holding her head in his hands, and staring intensely down at her. There were too many factors to consider, too much that he knew he could have and should have been worried about, and his eyes tried to read through her exhaustion, before he pressed his head against her forehead. "Sit down." He whispered fondly. "You are very much alive, and you are eating these pancakes."
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Posted: Sat Oct 17, 2015 5:56 am
Eating breakfast was the last thing on Mimsy's mind, but Robert was at the forefront - always, but especially now - so she listened. Still pleasantly disoriented from the kiss, she murmured a grateful 'I love you', then obediently slid into her seat at the table. Once settled, she drowsily began to arrange the pancakes into a stack that would allow the most optimal method of consumption, accounting for key variables like syrup ratio and portion size. " Now I am," she said with a little laugh, as though that made total sense. The stack passed an alignment inspection, so she carefully began to cut her first bite. "As far as any of us are capable of being consciously aware of, at least. The line in which we d--" Her sentence was cut short by a startled gasp, followed by a brief bout of coughing when she nearly inhaled a bite of pancake. When she was able to speak again, her voice sounded even worse than it had before, and she gave up on any attempts to speak more clearly. It was futile, and she had confidence that he could comprehend her regardless; he would somehow understand, even if she'd been uttering words in an entirely different language. "Where is... ah." There was a thoughtful pause as she considered how to best phrase her question. She slowly pierced another section of pancakes with her fork. "Survivors," she began again, now purposely playing with her food. "Did the civilians survive? Have we been informed? Surely...the effort could not have been for nothing, could it?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 12:54 am
Well, that didn't last very long. He poured her a glass of orange juice with a strange, disconnected calmness. He slid it onto the table beside her, and then pulled a seat out to move it beside hers. His hands lowered to rest against her knees, and his eyes focused on hers once more. "Yeah, they survived. Well, a lot of them did. Most of them. They're up in the Canada base being put to work." His expression pursed as he watched her, waiting for her reactions. Something about the way he looked did not seem pleased to be giving this information. "It wasn't for nothing. We did a good thing, back there. You did good. Real good." But that, perhaps for the first time ever, was the limit to how far his benevolence reached. He was preparing, very slowly, for what was to come. This required a lot of difficult thought and that was not his forte, so his face crunched up helplessly in his attempt.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 1:19 am
There was no more playful quality to her actions as she began to watch him. The fork was removed from the pancake with a slow, creeping wariness, and was placed gently next to the plate with such caution and care that it didn't make a sound. "Most of them," she repeated, settling her hands on top of his, deliberately displaying that she was not touching any of the silverware. "Most of them have survived, and have been recruited. Our actions were not for nothing. And I was good." The compiled list of variables might have seemed innocuous on its own, possibly even positive. But no matter what way Mimsy combined them, she couldn't manage to keep the answer they provided out of the negatives. "Robert." Her fingers twitched, but she was entirely still otherwise. "Where is mother?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 1:41 am
Expected. Robert had - very carefully and on purpose - not looked into the list of survivors. "I honestly don't know." He murmured, frowning down at the now forgotten plate. "I didn't find out whether she made it or not. There's a list available in the database, if you really need to know." His last few words slowed down a little, because there was emphasis in them. If you really need to know."But what matters is that you took care of her and you survived. We both did. We're fine, and Peter's fine. So now that you know everyone's fine, what are you going to do?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 2:20 am
And contrariwise, what Robert said was not at all what she anticipated. If the circumstances had been applied to him instead, if they'd found his mother and she was someone that she hated, the honest response would not have been nearly as innocent. Mimsy had not forgotten how readily she would have killed her, if given the opportunity. She was certain that he hadn't forgotten either. Only her mother's apparent death had spared her from the risk of a vengeful end, which seemed to be the case again. If she was truly dead, the risk was irrelevant. If she wasn't, she was part of Deus like the rest of them. "All right." These were all fair points, and she took time to consider them. As she did, the traits of normal, good, human Mimsy eased their way back into her demeanor; she brushed her fingers over his hands and tried to work her fingers in between his. "Ethically. Socially. And with regards to the well-being of our family." Her tone was thoughtful, but her eyes were trusting, even in spite of what she knew about his position on the subject. "What is the correct way to proceed from here? I know that we are both well aware that there is a right way - or, at the very least, that there is a wrong one."
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 2:25 am
But Mimsy was wrong, if only slightly. Robert felt more mixed feelings concerning the right and wrong of it all than he ever had before. He watched her fingers running across his skin, and let out a trembling breath when their hands intertwined once more. It felt so good to lose himself just a little, when it was with her. "That depends on how you feel." He admitted, because it wasn't his call to make - nor was it her burden to bear alone. "Would you have preferred it if she didn't survive?" Not hadn't. Just didn't.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 2:52 am
The choice of words did not go unnoticed, but Mimsy didn't seem to be particularly bothered by it. She simply assessed it accordingly, accounting for the duality of what he asked her. It took a little while for her to think, but she let him know that she was still there by squeezing his hands every now and then. "I don't know how I feel. Or how I should." Insufficient data, in better words. "I'm not sure that I can correctly identify my preference, either. Before we left, I would have preferred that she did not survive. While in Delta, I would have preferred that she did. And now... now I am aware that both of these judgments were built upon a foundation of knowledge that I don't necessarily have any more. It is now empty to desire her death. Like erasing a number that was written in error - nothing meaningful. Any answer that I arrive at now is not an informed one. So it appears to me that I now have three options, if she has survived: I have the option to know my mother, I have the option to hate her, and I have the option to ignore her. I have hated her for much of my life, but this is the first opportunity that I have had to know her. I may still come to hate her if I know her better, but if I ignore her, I will be curious. I will wonder what may have happened." She fell silent for another moment, chewing on her lip. "I think that I understand now," she murmured, only a scratchy whisper. "This would be easier if she died. Wouldn't it?"
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 9:42 pm
It took a few seconds, but eventually Robert's face blossomed into a warmer, more familiar smile. He chuckled, and shook his head. "No, no, this is good. I mean, the right answer is almost never the easy one, but I like the way you thought that through. I like it a lot. Maybe we can figure something out, after all." Even he'd forgotten the pancakes by now, and he pushed himself off of the chair in order to sweep her off of hers. He took her place, and she was placed gently in his lap, with his arm curved affectionately behind her knees to keep her close. "You gotta figure this one out on your own, but I can tell you how I feel about it, because I'd have wanted you to do the same if I was in your position. And the fact is, the b***h doesn't deserve a peep out of you. I like forgiveness and all, but when it comes to you I get a little biased, and I don't think I'll ever forgive her for how much messed up s**t she put you through. None of it was okay, and you're still suffering from it, even now. That's enough for me to feel real good about snapping her little neck like a twig." He did not say it with anger, but he did offer a visual with two fingers, snapping an invisible twig in his hands. Robert had very strong feelings about this. "You, though. No way in the world do I think it's a good idea to go barging over there and picking fights. Fact is, if my mother had treated me the way she did, I woulda hoped that I'd have the common sense to just carve the thought of her out of my mind right then and there, and never look back. Ain't nobody worth that kind of s**t, changed or not changed. That's why I like your answer best - how empty it is to desire her death. There ain't nothing meaningful there to be wasted on." He ducked his head, flushing with a guilt that he couldn't even truly commit to. "I know it ain't exactly right to feel this way. But like I said. The right answer's never the easy one. You're probably closer to a right answer than I am, at this point, 'cause I just. I got a lot of really strong, angry feelings about all this. They don't keep me much in the clear." He knew he hadn't helped, but he couldn't regret being honest with her. He did not live in balances. It was 0 to 100 without any in between, and Caroline had always managed to live in his 100 of hate. That probably wasn't going to change, anytime soon.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 10:53 pm
For this to be 'good', Mimsy didn't feel like it was. She wasn't sure she had a very clear understanding of what that word meant right now, at least in this context. So little of what he said made this seem right in any capacity, and she sunk into his arms as she thought hard about all of it. "I don't want to fight. I want to talk to her. I want to know my mother, if she is happy and home like I am. Why do you think we would fight? And why..." She began to squirm uncomfortably, unconsciously mimicking her gradual efforts to worm her way out of what she hoped was something that she misinterpreted. It didn't work. "So I do not have enough common sense, then." Her tone wasn't cold, nor angry, but did sound dejected in a hollow sort of way. "I was already missing too much at the start of my life, Robert. I was already classified as abnormal. Deficient. Lacking in what was necessary to be a healthy child, in both physical and mental senses. That is fact, quantified with recorded data. I was born an outlier. And perhaps I would be better off to remove every part of her from me, but I cannot. I would lose myself if I carved her out. Especially now, after she has contributed to who I am." The last few words began to trail off, slowing as she reached a point she didn't want to be at. She stepped carefully along the edge of it, not wanting to plunge into thinking about it, but there was nowhere else to go. "How..." She swallowed hard, trying to push past the nausea she felt. "When Clerise - my cousin - died, you said that you loved her. When you saw what she did to me, you forgave her, because her actions made me into the woman you love. My mother was largely absent from my life, and was frightened of me when she wasn't. Clerise was--Clerise tortured me, actively chose to harm me at every possible opportunity. Why do you love the one I hate, and hate the one I wish I could love? What is so...how can you..." Unable to finish, she simply shook her head to show that she had nothing else to say for the moment.
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Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 11:17 pm
He felt her squirm, and he did not fight to keep his hold on her. If she didn't want to be in his arms, that was her decision to make this time. It would just be a painful one. He couldn't force himself to fight against her storm, because it would only hurt her more to hear it. Robert blamed the labels of abnormal and outlier on her parents, and maybe that was a little naive and blind of him, but goddamnit, they were her parents.. She brought up Clerise, and his brow knitted with confusion. "Clerise wasn't the same thing, Mimsy. She was just a kid too, a stupid kid doing stupid, horrible things, and sure she hurt you, but she wasn't in charge of taking care of you. They were. I guess I just have a lot more feelings about parents doing their kids wrong, than kids doing other kids wrong. Or did you forget that I was a stupid kid too?" He winced. He hated to compare himself to Clerise after hearing her admit how much the girl had hurt her. He hated it almost as much as he hated this conversation, but it was true. He'd grown up a bully to hide from all his pain, but what mattered was that he'd grown up. Clerise hadn't been a great example of how to grow up, but neither had Clerise been a parent to anyone. Certainly not to Mimsy. "But." He breathed out a long, ragged sigh. "Doesn't make me feel good to hear that Clerise tortured you. Yes, I had my reasons for not hating her like I hate your mother, but God, don't say that I love her anymore. She's more of an idea than a person now, and the only thing I ever hear about her is how much she hurt you, and yes, that makes me hate her too. So I do hate her. I do. But she wasn't your mother. She wasn't your father. And I can't excuse a bad parent as easily as I can excuse a stupid kid." He tried to see past the red in his eyes, and think her words through. "I told you from the beginning that this was your decision, and it don't matter if I agree or not, you know I'm gonna support you either way. Fact is, you're making your real intention clear. I think you want to lay all the facts out and look at all the connections to be sure you're making the best decision, but when it comes to things like this, there's one thing I know for sure. When you get a reaction like that out of someone, they feel really strongly about what they want." She wanted to know if her mother is happy and home. Robert felt the dark twinges of assumption warn him that her mother would not feel the same way. "Maybe you reach out to her. Maybe you guys have a talk. But not without me, and - Mimsy, if she hurts you again, even for a minute." The red came back.
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 12:21 am
As confused as she was about the shifting context of good in this conversation, she knew with definitive certainty that she had nothing good to say about Clerise, nor his comparison of himself to her. The opinions didn't sour her or upset her, which might have been because she just wasn't letting them; all she gave as a response was a soft and scratchy 'all right' and 'I won't' when he told her not to say that he loved Clerise any more. She nodded in affirmation of his claims about her intentions, and tried to understand what he meant by the rest of it. And that was where she fell continually short, she realized. "I just want to understand, I suppose. I understand my father very well now. I understand that what he did was wrong - and I understand that it was purposeful. All of it. Even to Camille and her mother. I can comprehend it because it was devoid of emotion, and it was all logical when one considers the primary objective to be his own self-interest. It is precisely as one would expect, and does not deviate much, if at all." "But mother was always..." Mimsy frowned, not quite managing to find the words that best suited her perception of the woman. "She seemed to only feel. A lot. Certainly significantly more than father and I, in comparison-- ah, at the time, of course. And it never made sense to me. When I read through her things after we went back to that house, it was all full of hate and love mixed together, and I still don't understand it. So were her notes when I found her in Delta, but there was more love than anything, I think. Well...not more than nines, but...I digress. If I could know her, or if I could know why...I just think that it might provide the answers that I thought I would never have. You and I have replaced the immediate need for those answers in many ways together, but I would be more comfortable having my own conclusion to give us a stronger foundation for our own love, and our own home." It wasn't that she didn't believe that Robert wouldn't catch her when she fell, and couldn't help her repair what was broken. She just wanted to be strong enough to bear the weight of what they built together, and to leave no room for doubting that she was strong enough. "I believe in the possibility of second chances because of you alone." With a smile, she shifted and wriggled enough to give him a kiss, then tucked her head between his neck and shoulder. "You are already with me in this decision. You already support me in it. I love you, and it is only through loving you that I ever considered valuing her life."
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 12:42 am
Mimsy would always seek answers. Wouldn't he have, in her place? Wouldn't anyone? He hated how easily he'd missed the inevitability of this, because it left him with boiling blood and nowhere to take it out on. He shouldn't have gotten so upset, he told himself. He had to learn to control himself better. Think things through, instead of just rushing in. Who was he kidding. He took her kiss as greedily as a starving man took food, and then curled his arms tightly around her, possessive once more. "And I love you. Which is why I want to be with you. 'Cause nobody should have to walk into this kind of situation alone." He felt like he wasn't himself, and it was clearly disturbing him. Her lips, her head against his neck, and the brush of her skin against his kept him duly distracted from thinking too hard on it. "God, the things I'd do for you."
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Posted: Tue Oct 20, 2015 6:40 pm
"I know." And she did; it was part of what drew her to him, one of many points on her list of criteria that he'd fulfilled and surpassed. She could still remember how she'd gone from feeling powerful to conflicted in an instant when he first told her this, met with uncertainty when she realized there truly were things she'd never ask. He'd been right to hope that she would never ask for something she wasn't willing to have asked of her. "And you know the things I'd do for you in return." Raise a family. Want a family. Be good. "But I'll never ask you to get rid of her. I'll never ask you to harm her. Even if my assessment of her becomes as damning as what I knew before, I will not make that request. I would not want to be in that position, so I will not put you in it either." She placed a light kiss on his neck, then his jaw, and pressed her cheek to his. "We're better than that," she murmured. "Too perfect to allow the past to destroy what the present gives us."
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