Esther Coleman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beingdifferent) wrote2014-07-19 11:02 pm
beingdifferent) wrote2014-07-19 11:02 pm
Eighteenth little lie ♰ This is the story of the road that goes to my house
Has anyone been seeing unusual things? More unusual than is customary here, of course. [She turns the communicator to the mirror hanging on her wall – it’s shattered, and the reflection catches her in bizarre images. Some of the shards are much too broad, extending the shape of her face far outward. Others shrink her reflection, and a few of the larger pieces curve and warp the lines of her face, neck, and shoulders.] This does look strange to the rest of you, does it not? It’s never done that before.
[Private to Jean]
May I… [The ease with which she can talk to Ned is, while a tiny step forward, still heartening, and gives her the bravery to be honest in her request.] May I speak with you? In your professional role?
[Garden spam]
[Picking flowers from any of the beds or pots in the garden is a forbidden act. It is, Esther notes, quite a shame; the blooms are vivid and bright, quite healthy despite the odd environment they grow in, and she appreciates a nice bouquet of cut flowers. She has no intention of angering any wandering horticulturist, though, and keeps herself to the flowers growing out of the lawn.
Buttercups, daisies, dandelions – nothing exotic or beautiful, but she still harvests a great deal of them and holds them in a fold of her skirt when she settles on the grass. They won’t make a bouquet, but she can still use them to adorn her cabin, and she begins, fastidiously, weaving them into a chain.]
[Private to Jean]
May I… [The ease with which she can talk to Ned is, while a tiny step forward, still heartening, and gives her the bravery to be honest in her request.] May I speak with you? In your professional role?
[Garden spam]
[Picking flowers from any of the beds or pots in the garden is a forbidden act. It is, Esther notes, quite a shame; the blooms are vivid and bright, quite healthy despite the odd environment they grow in, and she appreciates a nice bouquet of cut flowers. She has no intention of angering any wandering horticulturist, though, and keeps herself to the flowers growing out of the lawn.
Buttercups, daisies, dandelions – nothing exotic or beautiful, but she still harvests a great deal of them and holds them in a fold of her skirt when she settles on the grass. They won’t make a bouquet, but she can still use them to adorn her cabin, and she begins, fastidiously, weaving them into a chain.]
Private
If that's easiest.
Private
Private
Perhaps we could take a walk together instead?
Private
Private
Private
But they can change that.]
I'll meet you there?
Private -> Spam
Due to her shape.]
All right. Thank you.
[She takes a few moments to straighten her child's dress, ensures her ribbons are properly placed on her wrists and throat, and heads out. When she sees Jean she lifts her hand in a small wave.]
Hello. Thank you for taking the time to meet with me.
Spam
Spam
If I'm honest, I'm not entirely sure where to start. [She cants her head questioningly.] I've never been sure: what do you know about me?
Spam tell me if this is all cool!
I don't know many details. I know...you've been hurt, and used, by people who should have protected you.
I know about the asylum. [And she can't help the grimace. She remembers being afraid, so desperately afraid, of going there herself.]
Spam, absolutely cool!
She is curious if Jean is aware of this, if Jean would understand if she was.]
Do you know what happened to me, apart from the institute?
Spam o/
Spam
Spam
Spam
The beginning is a long time ago.
Spam
Spam
Re: Spam
Spam
["Loved" in a physical sense. That's how she always saw love.]
Spam
Why do you think he did that?
Spam
Because I'd never be a real woman.
Spam
Oh, god.
Her stomach roils, and she's glad that Esther isn't looking at her, because she can't keep the horrified disgust off of her face.
She steels herself, pushes it away before she speaks.]
First of all - he was wrong. And second, that...shouldn't have been his priority.
Spam
No, he was right. That's everyone's priority.
Spam
Sorry. I just - he was wrong. About all of it. He didn't deserve you.
Spam
Spam
Spam
Spam