godsays | 17th metal . text

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17th metal . text

[ Kelsier brought him a rabbit.

A strange-looking rabbit with fur around its face. And then Kelsier left.

Zane stares at the rabbit.

It stares back.

He picks up his communicator, finally, breaking a long silence. He doesn't want to go through the process of apologizing to people. He wants them to be apologized to, but he can't... he doesn't know how to begin.

So: ]

What do you do with a rabbit

[ deck spam ]

[ ...and now he is hunting. On deck. For the hidden rabbit supplies. Damn it Kelsier. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

comfort

to love when you don't love anyone else

to love you when no one else loves you

to protect

and to be strong for

thats the purpose

[Wow Cassel why do you hurt her.]

That's not just a pet.

[For three, almost four years, that was Aithusa. A baby dragon is still the only one Morgana really loves and trusts, now.]

[Cassel's primary life skills include making people cry.]

no pets just a stupid word people who dont get it use

but i cant think of a better one

i used to

[Oh fuck this. He switches to voice, sounding. Well. Kind of raw.]

I used to feed cats.

[She's been speaking the whole time, and there's just a short pause at the way he sounds.]

Somewhere between friend and child. [Her voice is tight at the end, there; she'll never have children of her own, but Aithusa and Mordred were as close as she'll ever come - and both are gone now. Mordred buried on a hill, Aithusa damaged possibly beyond repair.

And worse still, alone. Morgana swallows hard.]

Cats - not your cats?

Yeah. Just like that.

[He's glad she understands. He doesn't think he could explain it any more clearly. The question draws him up short, too, and he considers not answering, but - ]

Not mine. They were their own. Wild.

After my dad died and my mom went to prison, they hung out around my mom's house. It was - messy, there were a lot of mice and shit. And then I started feeding them.

It was a . . . small good thing. But it felt important.

Why did you start?

[He laughs quietly. Not at her - at himself. Pathetic.]

Why else? I was lonely.

[She doesn't nod, doesn't really want to express how well she understands that.]

Did you visit your mother?

My mother ripped my heart out and reformed it in her image.

[Violently, blisteringly honest. And then, to combat the sudden nausea of admitting it, of finally saying it out loud:]

I love my mother very much and talked to her on the phone all the time.

[She laughs; not at him, but at the familiarity of his situation. There's a desperate edge in her throat, like hysteria lurks just beneath the surface. She spent too long in Jefferson's company, and sometimes he still rises up to haunt her.]

Those both sound true. [She knows they are.]

They are. [He knows she knows.] That's what happens when people touch you. That's what happens when people -

[Love you, he wants to say, but he thinks of Chris and Zane and his heart warms and twists at the same time.]

I'm so confused, sometimes.

[And then - he laughs too. Because he can help, until he can't, and he can be good, until something makes him evil again. His laughter doesn't sound a hell of a lot saner than hers.]

[It sounds familiar, though, and her smile stays, a mean little twist of her mouth.]

And why shouldn't you be? I'm sure she cared about you. Loved you. How much more confusing can it get?

She was so good to me.

[The back of a limo, the back of her hand, crying, the smell of mildew; he feels like he's shaking apart. Looks it.]

Loved me so much. Loves me so much. Did such bad things for me. For us. And what do I do with that now?

I don't know. [She knows, on some level, that Uther must have loved her, must have cared. Others have implied it. But it's grown so twisted in her own mind, over the last several years, that it practically hurts to consider. That he could have lied to her, chained her, made her afraid, and still have loved her.

She wants that to be impossible. Needs it to be.]

Do you miss her?

I miss her. I should be at home taking care of her. She needs help.

[She doesn't. She needs power. Over him, over Barron, over everyone. But it feels like she needs help, because that's what she's made them feel.]

Why does she need help?

She . . . just does.

That's not an answer.

It's the only one I have. If it's not the right one, then what is?

I don't know.

But I'd want to know why anyone wanted my help.

She's selfish.

Isn't everyone?

Most people. She's - more.

Impressive. [Dryyyyy]

She has no reason not to be, is what I mean.

17th metal . text

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