The Once-ler (
whichwayyoulean) wrote in
paradisa2013-07-09 10:46 pm
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Thirty One Truffula Trees
[The Once-ler hasn't heard from his mother in a while. This is nothing new, really. She only ever comes to him if she wanted something, it's always been that way, and he doubts she'd ever change, magical castle notwithstanding. But he hasn't heard from her since that dinosaur mess, and eventually, his love for her overwhelms his common sense and desire not to get his heart kicked in, as it always inevitably does. He heads off to her room, finding the nameplate gone.
Well. That was that. She'd left him. Again. Quietly this time, with no harsh words to bite into his memory as she drives away into the smog. Just a door without a name on it. He doubts he'll ever see her again, and he feels guilty for finding some relief in that thought. He exhales, opening his journal. He doesn't even know what to say at first, he doesn't even know if she even HAD any friends here]
For anyone who cares, my mom. [Pause] Flora her name's Flora. Look, I don't know if anyone knew her or not- but she's gone. Back home. So there you go.
[He'll just go try to find somewhere to brood where his friends won't find him now]
Well. That was that. She'd left him. Again. Quietly this time, with no harsh words to bite into his memory as she drives away into the smog. Just a door without a name on it. He doubts he'll ever see her again, and he feels guilty for finding some relief in that thought. He exhales, opening his journal. He doesn't even know what to say at first, he doesn't even know if she even HAD any friends here]
For anyone who cares, my mom. [Pause] Flora her name's Flora. Look, I don't know if anyone knew her or not- but she's gone. Back home. So there you go.
[He'll just go try to find somewhere to brood where his friends won't find him now]
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You'd be surprised.
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She doesn't bother to go through all the necessary motions, because what does it matter? A queen wouldn't really be having a man over for a drink without any guards or chaperones, and it wouldn't be within her own chambers. And, well, how much of a queen is she anymore? She had spent enough time in his tent, anyway, to not feel the need to put on so many airs. Such things might have been impossible with his strange...condition, anyway. ]
I am not certain anything could surprise me any longer.
[ The wine is already there, in a half-full pitcher with a few goblets resting near it. She pours one drink for him, and refills her own, before handing one of the cups over. She looks to the wall just beyond him, at a French painting that means nothing to her now. ]
I have never asked you...after those. Or, rather, that. That word that follows you around, and multiplies when you remain.
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Oh. Those. That's my...loss. I can't escape the word, ever.
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Unless what?
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Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.
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Everybody cares for something, do they not? You care, I know you do, so then why do they continue to follow?
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Regret and fear do a well enough job of haunting those with shaky pasts... It is cruel for the castle to put such mental anguish on display. But I suppose I am no exception, however less plain my loss is.
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[He casts her a curious look] How so? Uh- I mean unless you don't want to talk about it. They're usually pretty personal things.
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He had shared his, though, and this seems to be a time for sharing. She didn't invite him in just to stare out the window, although that's a feasible past-time. ]
I am unable to call myself Qu— [ Yup, there it goes, she nearly gurgles from how forcefully it's cut off, quickly covering her mouth and coughing a couple times until she can get her air back. ] ...Worse, I have been known to address myself as the King's Jezebel when I continue to try.
[ And oh God, knowing why she dies, it takes a whole new meaning. ]
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I'm sorry, that's pretty awful. It shouldn't take away your right to tell people who you are.
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[ It's one that stabs her deep, and twists on a daily basis. And now, now it's even worse, but she isn't sure she can really bear to bring up her doom to anyone, so broken and hateful and ashamed is she. It actually takes Anne a moment to swallow the lump in her throat, to focus and not allow the wine to make her thoughts too murky. ]
...Neither is yours. It says something for your character, that you continue on your way despite it being displayed so openly.
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[He shrugs at her comment about his own loss] I haven't exactly got much choice. When I try to hide and sulk about it, someone drags me out.
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You ought to count your blessings, then, that you should have those that love you enough to be sure you do not drown in your own darkness. It is necessary to occasionally bask in the light, Master Once-ler.
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That's what they keep telling me.
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Perhaps if you hear it enough, you will believe it, as well.
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Obviously her husband isn't to blame.She lifts her hand as if to reach for the pitcher again, but instead reaches across to settle her hand over his, fingers curling until she can get a true grip and squeeze. She remembers, a lifetime ago now, something that was once said to her that she hadn't understood then, but saw so clearly now. ]
It is much harder to have everything, than to have nothing.
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It's still a strange concept. He glances down at their hands, giving a thin smile]
Isn't that the truth? I think I was happier when I was poor.
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