beingdifferent | Sixteenth little lie ♰ Hush now baby, don't you cry; your reward's in the sweet by-and-by

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Sixteenth little lie ♰ Hush now baby, don't you cry; your reward's in the sweet by-and-by

What happened?! [There's a sudden sound of something glass or porcelain shattering against the floor or wall, the sound of books hitting the floor, a music-box flipping open and playing a few notes of "Fur Elise" before the sound of wood cracking and metal gears crushing.]

Tell me!

[Esther loosens an agonized sound somewhere between a growl and a cry. This is followed immediately by the dull pound of her fist against the wall.] Who stopped it?!

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[The sounds of destruction call to him. He finds the source and is in luck, the door is ajar, maybe from an impact. He flies inside, his form that of a dove, and finds a place to perch.

He watches for a few moments before he finally says something.]

Well this certainly is a great way to get what you want.

[Dry, just the tiniest bit mocking.]

[Esther whirls from where she's grabbed a small china figurine and glares at the dove perched on the rail of her canopy bed. She hurls the statuette at it with a slew of Estonian curses in tow, immediately grabbing for more ammunition - this time, a book.]

Get out of here! I don't want your remarks!

[He flutters out of the way of the projectile, laughing.]

Really? But I thought you wanted to know what happened.

[The second missile is better aimed, and she grabs for a third without checking to see what it is - a smashed piece of the porcelain box she'd thrown to the ground moments before.]

I can learn that from anyone else! Get out if you're going to be like that!

[The small red bird vanishes in a swirl of equally red smoke, and emerges as a much more substancial creature: a hawk. He snatches the last projectile out of the air as it's thrown and drops it. He circles back and re-takes the perch on her canopy.]

Someone likes playing rough.

[He's not going anywhere. Point of fact, he likes this one.]

[This should surprise her, but after so long on the Barge it doesn't. She merely screeches in hostility and grabs another handful of the broken porcelain.]

I'm not playing!

Go ahead. Throw it.

[If birds can smile, this one definitely is.]

I've got time. I can wait until you're all worn out. Then we can chat.

[She does. And as she hurls it toward him she ducks to the door, furious and meaning to trap the insolent thing behind her until it apologizes or, preferably, starves.]

[He takes off before it can even reach him, and flies just barely ahead of her. The red smoke happens again and when it clears, there's a not unattractive young man leaning in her doorway, blocking her path.]

What's your rush?

[That's more than enough to make her stop. She's been through and seen a lot, but she can't remember the last time a young man was in her bedroom. This is, likely, a trick, but it's a welcome trick regardless of her firm grip on the remaining porcelain shard.]

I told you, I don't want your remarks.

[He smiles, though it is probably more like a smirk, and couldn't care less about the broken shard in her hand.]

What about my stories?

What about them?

[This, she is aware, is bait, and she will not take it.]

You wanted to know about things you missed, right? I'd be happy to tell you whatever you want to know.

[It is very much bait. Thing is, he's not even decided what the hook is quite yet.]

How did it end? Who stopped it?

It was fixed, despite efforts to the contrary.

Thank you.

[She pulls open the door and gestures to it, her fingers still tight around the piece.] Now get out.

Aren't we inhospitable today.

[He slides by her smoothly, ignoring the open door. He wanders into her room, completely uncaring of the wreck she's made of it.]

And after we were getting along so well.

Esther.

Calm your tits, will you? It were a breach. They always stop. You know this.

[Fine. If he won't get out, she will. Ignoring her own appearance she will. She slips out into the hallway and slams the door behind her.]

Not that one!

There's one of you still there, aye. But the one that's stuck 'ere had to come back 'ere. No one did that. It's 'ow this boat works.

Tell me exactly what you preferred about that other one.

[What she preferred? That draws angry, mocking laughter out of her, punctuated with the sound of wood splitting.]

Everything.

Esther, don't histrionic at me. Short of license to murder everyone, I'm trying to see what we can give you that you 'ad there. Do you want to 'elp with that or just throw a tantrum?

You can't help with that!

[Esther had everything there. Authority, respect, the assurance that she wasn't - wouldn't always be - a freak. Instead of pathetic, she could be beautiful there in a strange way. And there was hope there; maybe not for anyone else, but for her.

The Mirror Barge could've helped her; this one couldn't. This one is false promises and lack of options, and more than that lack of understanding.]

So in actual fact, you just wanted to throw a tantrum.

You'll never know who can 'elp with what if you only wail at us we don't understand and never 'ave a shot at explaining. I only read minds in emergencies or with permission, lady, and I can't do it over the comms anyway.

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Sixteenth little lie ♰ Hush now baby, don't you cry; your reward's in the sweet by-and-by

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