Fandom Library, Wednesday, February 4th

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

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.

Comments

Re: Talk to the Aide

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

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?"

Re: Talk to the Aide

[not_a_haint]

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.

Re: Talk to the Aide

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

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."

Re: Talk to the Aide

[not_a_haint]

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.

Re: Talk to the Aide

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

"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."

Re: Talk to the Aide

[not_a_haint]

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."

Re: Talk to the Aide

[afraid_of_marshmallows]

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.