fandomhigh | Fandom Library, Wednesday, February 4th

Entry tags:

library

Fandom Library, Wednesday, February 4th

Arden couldn't skip two weeks of work, even though she felt 'bitten by a gremlin' was a really good excuse for missing one, and so she was back behind the circulation desk today. With a book. And determinedly ignoring everything the gremlins did, so long as they were doing it more than five feet away from her. See if the little jerks got any attention from her for awhile.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

“Both. I lost three families, one to a monster, one because of the curse it put in me, and one because of the cult that worships it.” WOAH! “And then MAYbe other folks would be lookin’ for me too. I was given a list.

“I’m sorry that was…”

"Uh-oh." You know, in other circumstances, Arden might not have realized what was happening yet. But the first time this had happened to her, it had happened in almost the exact same way: finding yourself talking about your home and family, against your better judgment and also your will.

"Fuck fuck fuck--not you!" she said hastily, not wanting Caleb to think that she was worried about him. "Wait one sec, I gotta check something. My parents gave me the last name Fffffffffffffffffffffffffffff...nope. One plus one is thrrrrr--two. Fuck my whole life."

She gave Caleb a smile that was really half-grimace. "Do me a favor? Lie to me. About anything. Whatever comes to mind. Or even just say something you know is wrong."

Amusingly, the lie Caleb thought of was exactly the kind of thing many people of his acquaintance would have exclaimed right then.

“Miss Arden I have never- That is am sh-

“Well I just tried to say I was appalled at your language, but though it may not be usual for ladies to swear, that ain’t stopped the young ladies of the cradle. One in particular but I doubt I’ll ever see her again.” Eeesh.

“Oh dear.”

Arden raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, nobody gets to chide me about my language until my mama does, and since she'll need to be resurrected first, that doesn't seem to be real likely," she said crisply, even as her dialect slid a little closer to home. "Especially when it's based on what ladies should or shouldn't do, and not people."

"Anyway, what's more important than my choice of entirely appropriate language is that it's a day where nobody can lie! Not even the well-meaning white lies, like telling someone you like their haircut or that outfit looks great on them. It also means that if you're not careful, you'll end up telling people a lot more than you intend to. Like that you have powers or you think they're hot."

She began patting herself down. Surely she had something to eat on her, come on--victory! She pulled out her water bottle and unscrewed the cap. "Only got one, so it look like we're sharing. If your mouth isn't stopping when you want it to, take a drink of water." She laughed. "I ate so much sushi last time this came around, just keeping my mouth full."

“Well I do think-“ he happened to have a water bottle on him, it was definitely one of the better modern inventions. He just drank it a bit too fast.

He coughed, which was unpleasant but useful.

“I suppose I do have powers, though no one’s really sure if they’re mine.” He grimaced but shrugged. “Bound to come out eventually.”

Arden eyed him, but either what he'd been about to say wasn't a criticism of her language, or, if it were, it hadn't survived the water and so she relaxed a bit. "How could they...not be yours?"

It absolutely would not have been.

"No one's really sure if what I can do is part of me, or if it's somethin' separate that was put in me. The thing that killed my papaw, uncle, mama and daddy," his voice broke a bit at that and he had even been reaching for his water but hesitated too long, "Spared me but she did somethin' to me. When I was little I thought it was there to protect me in a dark, destructive way, but when I got old enough I was told that most folk reckoned she sent me out as bait."

Maybe part of him had really been itching to talk about it or something because by the time he thought to actually drink, it was out.

Honestly, as far as people to talk 'I got weird powers and it fucked up my whole life' with went, hard to do better than Arden.

"So has she been looking after you?" Arden asked, arching an eyebrow. She was definitely copping an attitude, but hopefully Caleb would realize not at him. "Because if she just sent you out in the world as bait - as a kid, right? You were a kid? - and she just left you to twist in the breeze, that's compounding the whole, you know, murder aspect with unspeakable negligence."

She frowned. "Is this lady an elf? Because it definitely sounds exactly like something an elf would do."

Caleb was momentarily confused. "The little guys who make shoes? Uh, no. We...well there's lot's o' stories about her. My mama told me about the Witchy Woman who took youngin's when they was out o' bed when they shouldn't be. I never knew if they was true till I saw 'er.

"I...don't really remember what happened next. I don't think she wants me to. I know my people are gone, but it's like second hand knowledge that I don't know where came from. If that makes sense.

"They tol' me later, folks who know what they're talkin' about, they call 'er the Dead Queen. An' even haints are afraid o' her. Whatever she did left me so everywhere I looked I saw how everythin' and everyone was gonna die. I couldn't eat 'cause I could taste how everythin' in the food died. An' if I was ever hurt, or scared, really scared, things come up outta th' ground..." Oh right, the water.

He took a more controlled swig.

"A granny witch named Miss Boggs helped me a little so I can eat, I can turn the death vision on an' off and 'pparently I woulda been stuck as a child for...I dunno, forever maybe.

"I was ten. Been livin' in the Devil's Cradle for most o' my life since then. And I'm sorry for dumpin' that on you. I don't usually like to-"

Water.

"Elves aren't anything like the shoemakers, Keebler, or Santa Claus elves in popular media," Arden said darkly. "They're a predator species. Humanoid, yeah, but still predators."

She was just going to take her own sip of water here. No rea--okay many reasons.

"Dead Queen? Sounds like something Professor Vess would call herself," she said, recapping her bottle. "But...damn, Caleb, that all sounds awful." She reached out to pat his arm in sympathy. "Not even being able to eat? Shit, I had it rough, but not that rough. But...why a permanent child? Or is that more bait?" Another sip before she started a rant on this so-called Dead Queen and the kind of children who use children for bait.

"And don't worry, okay? About the whole trauma-dumping thing. It's really okay--if it weren't, I couldn't say so today, could I? I know how it is. When magic upends your whole life and ruins it. Glad you feel comfortable talking about it with me. I was here almost a year before I opened up to anybody."

He'd always felt like he'd actually had it better than the other kids in the Cradle. For a number of reasons, not the least of which, he got mail. He still had people on the outside who cared about him. Not everyone had. Granny Amburgey had asked him and the few others with connections to keep them to themselves, and it had become, though he didn't know this concept, somewhat of a conditioned response to not talk about himself in that way.

Which was partly why he was able to hold onto all that long enough to take another drink.

"To be honest I dunno if I'd have done that if it weren't for whatever is goin' on right now, but thank you. Everyone back home had a horror story of their own and Granny discouraged us from tryin' t' one up each other." Well long enough to at least boil it down.

"You know I wonder if some o' the haints in my world are elves. Now that I think of it Granny Amburgey had a book from the old country about 'The Good Folk' but them stories didn't make 'em sound all that good."

You could have it better than some and it would still suck.

"There's a difference between trying to one-up one another and just getting something off your chest," Arden said. "I don't get the feeling you're trying to get me to pity you or anything like that, either. You went through something legitimately awful and traumatic, and having the chance to just air it out and let it breathe really helps some time. Like giving a wound some time in the air and light, you know? Sometimes, you wanna talk about it just to talk about it, sometimes you wanna talk about it so the other person knows you've seen some shit, too - different than theirs, sure, but still rough. There's some stuff that people with good, loving families and childhoods just can't get, some stuff you can only tell folks who've been there, you know? And none of that is playing Oppression Olympics, it's just saying, yeah, I've been hurt, it sucks."

She took another sip, this time not because she wanted to stop talking, but because she'd talked so much.

"The Good Folk are usually fae, at least in my world," she added. "Dunno about yours, of course, but in mine, elves and fae are very different. Elves'll shoot you for even suggesting otherwise."

Not that it took much to make a marshmallow shoot somebody anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fandom Library, Wednesday, February 4th

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide

Re: Talk to the Aide