Esther Coleman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beingdifferent) wrote2014-08-27 04:24 pm
beingdifferent) wrote2014-08-27 04:24 pm
Twentieth little lie ♰ These are the memories that keep me awake in the night
[Forward-dated to flood's end]
[For the first time since she destroyed her room, Esther has toys. They’re little, cheap, plastic; miniature cars, figurines, rainbow ponies, superheroes, toys that squawked or played music or changed into something else when you pushed a button. She has perched on the deck’s railing, resting the pile of them in her lap, and tosses them off the ship one by one.]
I’d like to forget that ever happened, please. Don’t remind me.
[Private to Jean]
[When others leave, Esther has normally been able to shrug it off. Rorschach’s disappearance had made her feel resentful, unwanted; but while she had respected him and he her, they weren’t exactly friends. Ned was a friend. Before him, she didn’t even believe she could have one.
It hurts. When he’d gone she’d cried, then scolded herself for it; it was selfish to be upset when someone she cares for is going home, a real, good home. She simply pushed down the feeling, trying to ignore it, but she knows as well as anyone that it doesn’t work. She needs someone else, someone who cares.
And she had someone, now. Ned had taught her how to.]
May I come see you again?
[For the first time since she destroyed her room, Esther has toys. They’re little, cheap, plastic; miniature cars, figurines, rainbow ponies, superheroes, toys that squawked or played music or changed into something else when you pushed a button. She has perched on the deck’s railing, resting the pile of them in her lap, and tosses them off the ship one by one.]
I’d like to forget that ever happened, please. Don’t remind me.
[Private to Jean]
[When others leave, Esther has normally been able to shrug it off. Rorschach’s disappearance had made her feel resentful, unwanted; but while she had respected him and he her, they weren’t exactly friends. Ned was a friend. Before him, she didn’t even believe she could have one.
It hurts. When he’d gone she’d cried, then scolded herself for it; it was selfish to be upset when someone she cares for is going home, a real, good home. She simply pushed down the feeling, trying to ignore it, but she knows as well as anyone that it doesn’t work. She needs someone else, someone who cares.
And she had someone, now. Ned had taught her how to.]
May I come see you again?
Private
...My office has - there are a lot of pillows.
Private
Private
Private
Re: Private
...I've also got hot chocolate. [It just seemed like the thing to do.]
Private
Private
no subject
[Milkoviches don't get rid of anything unless it's literally unusable, and all he can think is that whether or not he really gives a damn about his son, the little bean could probably use a toy or two when Mickey gets back. Lord knows it would earn him some much-needed points with Yevgeny's mother.]
Shit, I'll take 'em if you don't want 'em.
no subject
I don't want to see them on the ship.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[It's surprisingly difficult to find an empty box -- they seriously don't. throw. away. anything, and it's only gotten more cluttered since like half of Canaryville moved in back in the real world, but in the end he dumps out some of his wife's random crap into the trash and carts the box upstairs.]
no subject
The pile is not much smaller when Mickey arrives to collect the toys. She nods at him in greeting.]
Good evening. My name is Esther.
no subject
He nods to the pile and holds up the box.]
You can just dump 'em all in.
no subject
[Fucked up is right, kid is not - although she still looks like one with her haul in her skirt. She lifts a handful and drops them in, then begins pushing the rest off her lap.]
Why do you want them?
no subject
no subject
no subject
He figures they're done, but as long as he's up here, he could go for a smoke. He hefts the box against his hip and sets it down again a couple of feet down the rail, leaning against it to light up.]
no subject
[Choking Hazard: not suitable for children under three years of age. After that, go nuts, Mickey.
Esther doesn't move from her seat on the railing when he lights his cigarette, her feet far from the ground and swinging a bit in the air. She doesn't say she's a child anymore, but it doesn't mean she presents like one any less. The more empathy she gets, the better.]
Who are they for?
no subject
He's tempted to pretend he didn't hear her anyway, but she's already asked twice and he figures that means there will be more coming if he doesn't answer. He looks away over the side and clears his throat.]
Baby at home.
no subject
A boy or a girl?
no subject
Yevgeny, apparently.
[The name sounds thoroughly foreign and clumsy on his tongue. He's not sure he's ever actually said it out loud before.]
no subject
Is his mother Russian?
no subject
Born and raised.
private
[Having fun is... it doesn't hurt, but it's uncomfortable.]
private
private
private
private
private
private