with_my_teacup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
with_my_teacup) wrote2014-07-10 01:13 pm
with_my_teacup) wrote2014-07-10 01:13 pm
Entry tags:
R47 - Back to Wonderland
Hi, kids.
[Anyone unaffected may notice something about Riddick; a little less aggressively edgy, a little more of a wall. Because Riddick as she is got more mileage out of having a mountainous will, a sledgehammer self, than being an unpredictable razor-blade of a person.]
Room full of large clothes, cut for small hips and big shoulders, for anyone who needs to borrow them. Missing all my t-shirts, but life's not always fair. [She shrugs, massively. What are you going to do.]
[Anyone unaffected may notice something about Riddick; a little less aggressively edgy, a little more of a wall. Because Riddick as she is got more mileage out of having a mountainous will, a sledgehammer self, than being an unpredictable razor-blade of a person.]
Room full of large clothes, cut for small hips and big shoulders, for anyone who needs to borrow them. Missing all my t-shirts, but life's not always fair. [She shrugs, massively. What are you going to do.]
s p a m
Spam
[Riddick's voice is gentle; she sits down by her boy, ruffling his hair.]
Spam
[It's the woooorst. He sort of flops halfway across her lap though.]
Spam
[She scratches his scalp lightly, soothingly, other hand doing basically the same thing for a confused but accepting Partner.]
Tell me about it. You've got me curious now.
Spam
[Wanda also, like, killed him, after a few months of him being sort of crazy and controlling while on the run together. He's proud of her.]
Spam
[It was a cold cruel place, and it made Anshel cruel and cold in a way that spoke to her. Her frosty little prince.]
Do you know what happened to Wanda after you wound up here?
Spam
[He shakes his head.]
I know she was strong. And good with chaos.
[He left her a lot of chaos to work with. She killed him when she didn't need him anymore, when she was strong enough and in control of herself enough for freedom. She earned it, just like he did killing Dad. The circle of life. Or something.]
Re: Spam
But like her little Ashes, she wasn't... expected to quiet, seen and not heard, constantly maintenance, constantly the caretaker. What would he have done if they had told him to quiet down.
How dangerous would he be if he had learned to be quiet with a smile.
It's an uneasy thought. She doesn't say any of it, just keeps up her caresses.]
In the long run she isn't you. We'll be back on our barge whether we remember it or not.
Are you upset because Wanda-?
[Are you upset because different?]
Spam
Anya is more skillful; but the pressure fractured her as much as it forged her, and he was carved in other ways, told to be hard, to be merciless, to be right, unwittingly rewarded for the ruthlessness that came easy to both of them. He's more ambitious, more steady, less vulnerable, even with Riddick, where he lets all his guards down, curls up with his belly bared.]
I just hate that it makes such a difference. She doesn't even take care of Magda.
[Where take care of means kill, gently, with a pillow when he's ten years old, waiting for her to fight him the whole time, hoping to excavate any part of her that wanted to live. Where take care of means everything except all the taking care of that Anya actually did.]
Spam
Spam
[This isn't peaceful nothing. This is Neverending-Story-Nothing, nightmare Nothing, consuming Nothing, the lingering horror of her own apathetic obsolescence.]
Re: Spam
[Who kept her alive, because someone in a constant state of dying of unwillingness to live takes maintenance. She's genuinely curious; it will tell her something about whoever. Magneto? One of the twins? An...na? ]
no subject
[He's so mad, though at which one of them - for which one of them - is harder to pin down.]
no subject
[It's a bare murmur. She coaxes Anshel a little more onto her lap and chest, and the gentle scratch of her fingernails on his scalp turns into a soft stroke over the shoulder.
It's very like them, to talk cold about the psychology of the potential enemy while cuddled up together like this. They're both hunting animals and wolves don't stop being wolves when they snuggle up together.]
Killed Wanda, kept Magda.
I might have gone the other way. But then I didn't have a mother, so I don't know what's at play.
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[It's not softer, it's certainly not sentimental, it's just - solemn. Less angry. He sighs a little, breath and tension huffing out of him against Riddick's chest, fingers curling up in the edge of her shirt, the kind of tightness that is holding on instead of holding back.]
no subject
What are you gonna do about this, sweetheart?
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No. I can't. I can't be the one who carries her choices.
[More applicable to her than to him, he knows distantly, when the flood ends, but that's not a productive line of philosophizing. It brings him up short anyway, a difficult lesson for both of them to learn, a steadying relief to remember.]
It's just. It's just strange.
no subject
Let's bake something. The guy I'm replacing has a kitchen too, we can whip something up. You can tell me why it's bothering you. [Or try to figure it out while his hands are busy, whatever.]
no subject
[...he's not actually dumb enough to say 'boys don't cook,' and he's actually done plenty of it, but he still feels compelled to go through the motions of resenting it even though he doesn't, at least in private. Hence, cursory whining.]
no subject
no subject
[He slouches off to the kitchen and promptly starts assembling ingredients for carrot cake muffins.]
no subject
Partner comes sneaking over to lurk for fallen scraps. Just because he can't taste it doesn't mean he doesn't know that it's the best food ever.]
You care about her choices, Anya's. Because they don't make sense to you. [Question mark?]
no subject
She tried to behave so long she got maneuvered into a corner. She got out of it well - hell, she still got out. She killed him and left, and that's the most important thing, but.
I don't like that it's so different. I guess no one else knows how different they are, since nobody cross-checks their own files. But it seems like a lot.
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Different identities, different starting points... I've had biological children in at least two floods now.
So we ain't fixed in stone. I find it reassuring. We're all made by our environments, nothing's a prophecy. I like that we adapt. [Fuck prophecies.]
no subject
[The anger creeps back in, simmers and flares, as he grates and scowls with equal enthusiasm, settles into genuine disgust by the end, digs his teeth in, almost cracking through to the marrow of it. Almost.]
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It's how people treat you. It's what they try to make you into because of the body.
Richard B and I have such close lives because people outside us reacted to us the same. Not because we were the same people. Our body shapes our environment as long as there's even one observer in the environment.
no subject
The body is still the variable. That's what changed. It all comes from that.
[He doesn't hate his body. Not the shape of it, not how it looks, not what he can and can't do, not how he feels moving inside it, day to day, head to toe, stretch and stride. But somewhere deep, deep down there's still a little bit of hate for his blood, for the thirty-seven trillion tiny coiled places where human is written inside him. He knows it's defined everything about his life, every reaction he got from anyone in between the ages of nine and nineteen. And yet. It stings, to run into it all over again, that it matters, maybe not for the reasons his father told him it did, but just as severely.]
no subject
[She's found creamed cheese, is whipping sugar into it by hand with a sturdy fork.]
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[So. Yes.]
It sucks. It feels like I'm back in a cage, or - like I was in one all along and just didn't see it.
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Not all mine, not all his. Right? Right. Don't get too reductive while you're sulking.
Pass those walnuts I'm folding some in the icing.
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[He is having a legitimate existential crisis, mom. Gosh. Dignified cat bristle. He passes the walnuts. And soaks some raisins in brandy, because really, why else bake anything that includes raisins.]
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[Without getting her hands dirty, she leans over and kisses the top of his head again. Then folds walnuts lightly into the icing.]
What if the choices are influenced more by the body? Why's it stuck in your throat?
no subject
And I just. I've got limits, I can work with that. But I didn't think my body was giving me directions, too.
spem
There's underthings up on the deck. Labeled.
Re: spem
Please don't take mine.
spem
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Maybe if we cinched one of my chest harnesses really.... mmmm no. [She heads over to start looking through to see what can be improvised, though.]
no subject
I suppose if I wait a few days it won't matter any more. But I've never been one to be passive in the face of the inevitable.