4'10" OF RAW, CONCENTRATED ANXIETY (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkov) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2019-07-20 08:12 pm
darkov) wrote in maskormenacelogs2019-07-20 08:12 pm
Entry tags:
increase soft content
WHO: Cass, Marty
WHERE: MF4
WHEN: July, before the meta plot shitstorm
WHAT: a random act of kindness
WARNINGS: NO WARN, ONLY SOFT
[the art and nuance of gift-giving is a daunting lesson to a boy who grew up knowing none. in this way, he has floundered, mimicking others and going through motions advised by others. the beads he first started giving out as tokens of appreciation was an idea from Anderson a full year ago, and seasonal gifts things prompted by this world's own rules.
that last bit...it's part of what's motivated him: he's seen advertisements on TV or on the street, especially in the late spring about sharing gifts of flowers with girls and women in particular. always with joy on the face, always with loving approval.
it worked out pretty well with Haru. staggeringly well, in fact!
and so, instead of using the extra treat-yourself change he's allotted when he's sent out on errands on cheese or yarn, Martin's taken to getting flowers. just small bunches of three or four at a time, no particular rhyme or reason to the picking other than "that looks/smells nice."
if Haru liked them...maybe the other women he cares about will, too?]
I'm home...
[he calls out at the front door as he slinks in, finagling his shoes off and depositing his sunglasses on the small table by the door. in his hand, he has a trio of white carnations. like Cass' makeup -- the stuff she doesn't have anymore, anyway.]
Is anyone here still?
WHERE: MF4
WHEN: July, before the meta plot shitstorm
WHAT: a random act of kindness
WARNINGS: NO WARN, ONLY SOFT
[the art and nuance of gift-giving is a daunting lesson to a boy who grew up knowing none. in this way, he has floundered, mimicking others and going through motions advised by others. the beads he first started giving out as tokens of appreciation was an idea from Anderson a full year ago, and seasonal gifts things prompted by this world's own rules.
that last bit...it's part of what's motivated him: he's seen advertisements on TV or on the street, especially in the late spring about sharing gifts of flowers with girls and women in particular. always with joy on the face, always with loving approval.
it worked out pretty well with Haru. staggeringly well, in fact!
and so, instead of using the extra treat-yourself change he's allotted when he's sent out on errands on cheese or yarn, Martin's taken to getting flowers. just small bunches of three or four at a time, no particular rhyme or reason to the picking other than "that looks/smells nice."
if Haru liked them...maybe the other women he cares about will, too?]
I'm home...
[he calls out at the front door as he slinks in, finagling his shoes off and depositing his sunglasses on the small table by the door. in his hand, he has a trio of white carnations. like Cass' makeup -- the stuff she doesn't have anymore, anyway.]
Is anyone here still?
no subject
It’s confining, but it’s safe, too. At some point, she knows she’ll have to start going outside again- but to some extent she still feels like she should spend her life on eggshells. There’s a dissonance to her, all the time, that she doesn’t know how to cope with just yet.
But if there’s one good thing about confining herself, it’s seeing plenty of those who live here. Once she hears Martin, she calls out from the living room. ]
Hey! Everything going okay today?
no subject
he'll worry about putting away fish supplies later, just leaving them by his shoes as he steps into the living room properly, all bright-eyed and eager.]
Ye-yeah. It's too hot, but--I don't have to go outside anymore. [and he is damn glad for that. and air conditioning.
but never mind that!
he stops in front of her, separated only by the coffee table, and holds out the flowers.]
I got you these. If you'd like, that is--
no subject
[ What. Flowers? Why is she getting flowers.
For a split second she wonders if he's trying to comfort her, but- no. He looks happy, calm, moreso than she ever would have expected him to be some months ago. This isn't something he's agonized over. He just wants to give her flowers.
That's so fucking cute.
She takes the flowers awkwardly, clearly pleased with them but unsure of what to immediately do. ] Martin, I- you didn't have to do that. They're really nice. We should, uh, get a vase? Do we have one?
no subject
honestly, he hasn't put much thought into the utility of the flowers beyond giving them.]
...Um. [he looks down at the coffee table, then toward the kitchen.] I'll...I'll go look.
[he starts off, wondering what he should be looking for. he sees flowers in glasses at restaurants sometimes. is that it? because she didn't just say a pot.
rolling up on his toes, he opens a cupboard where the glasses are and stares at them.
...these seem fine.
right?]
Here.
[he returns with the empty beer glass.]
no subject
Are you sure that’s not for Andy?
[ Okay, wait, maybe she’s being a little mean. She shakes her head a little. ]
You know- honestly, she probably has enough glasses. This might work. [ She takes it from him, and moves toward the kitchen. ] Although it’s a very specific aesthetic...
no subject
no subject
[ All she’s doing is putting water into the glass, and then putting the flowers in. Honestly, if someone doesn’t immediately peg the glass as being for beer, it’s not bad. ]
We could go at some point, though. If you were going to school we’d probably need you to get supplies, but... [ She shakes her head. ] Do you need anything?
no subject
[a beat.]
...Did they?
no subject
[ Cass taps her chin, thinking. She knows what she should say here, but ought to be aware of how she says it. She doesn’t want Martin to feel inadequate, as he often does. ]
I mean, I know you didn’t really have school growing up. It might not be...right for you. But I guess we could get you lessons? Something like that? If you wanted it.
no subject
Martin looks a little guilty at that.]
I, I haven't really...been doing much of that. Practicing words and letters, I mean. Archie gave me a lot of books, but...
[he trails off. it doesn't really need to be said, does it? those things that took up more time than the want to read about birds or trains.]
no subject
Why? Did you want some help?
[ It’s not as if she’s getting out much. ]
no subject
no subject
[ She leans on the counter with one hand and looks up, thinking. ]
Why don’t you read me something? Then I can tell you.
no subject
Really? I mean--I'm not very good, but. I can, if you want.
no subject
[ She waves a hand toward the staircase, thinking of his bedroom. ]
Go on, get something.
no subject
he returns in short order with one of the tales of Frog and Mr. Toad -- simple reading for simple vocabularies, but clearly less pandering than the huge-font first-grader fare he'd had to struggle with months ago.
maybe, quietly, part of him wants to be impressive right out the gate. but other parts of him know that's not happening; he's fifteen and he still gets stuck by words ending in -gh.
once he's returned, he looks at Cass expectantly. she'll tell him when and where.]
no subject
By the time Martin comes back, Cassandra's squinting at her phone, grumbling about some sort of gossipy news story or another. She really shouldn't look at them...but every once and awhile she finds out something actually useful about another imPort from it.
Not today, though. She mumbles to herself: ] Who the fuck cares who likes to wear tank tops or-
[ Oh. She startles and looks up at Martin. ] Ah, sorry. Go ahead? [ After a pause- ] Is something up?
no subject
No, nothing. Sorry.
[with that, he sits down at the table next to her, setting the book down.]
Is this one alright?
no subject
[ At first she has her usual harshness, but she remembers to soften her tone as she continues her question to him. No use being rude to him when he's likely just being careful.
Still, she wonders if he'll ever get over these impulses. She should help him do so. After all, he deserves so much better than feeling that way. ]
no subject
sheepishly, he situates himself and the book, flipping pages to the start, clearing his throat. right, then. Frog and Mr. Toad adventures. it might be more embarrassing if he actually paid attention to what he's reading as opposed to putting the effort into pronouncing things right, but as it stands, his effort is just in that. slow and meticulous, often repeating what's been figured out, with a finger guiding his focus along word to word.
barely four pages into it, he's sweating. performance anxiety!]
no subject
But she can’t help but feel sadness for him, too, seeing his nervousness. He’s doing well, and yet he’s clearly a bundle of nerves over reading to her. Is he not comfortable with her? No, he must be by now. Right? ]
Martin? [ She interupts. ] You’re doing fine. Really good, actually.
no subject
his mouth quirks into a tiny, sheepish smile.]
...Oh, good. I, I haven't been practicing, so I figured...it'd be bad-sounding...
no subject
[ Which, of course, opens up a salient question, one she's a bit sad she didn't note before. ]
Why haven't you been practicing? Did something happen?
no subject
After you got sick...I, I didn't really...I couldn't pay attention to it. So.
no subject
Maybe he is. Maybe this is a sign. But it still brings a sudden pang to her heart to have him mention hurting because of what happened to her. ]
Martin...
[ She sighs and looks away for a moment, then composes herself. ]
Well- I mean- you're doing fine now. And you won't have to worry about it again, okay? We'll make sure it doesn't happen again.
[ God, she fucking hopes it doesn't happen again. ]
no subject
[it's not that he doesn't believe her; she's not a liar. but a lot of things seem to be out of everyone's control one way or another, that he's not sure how much heart he can put into a statement like it won't happen again.
self-fulfilling prophecies...
his frown tugs on one side as he stares at the pastel illustration of amphibians in trousers.]
Well, as...long as everyone's here. And safe. Then...it's fine.
[even saying that is dubious; Kanan's not here. Anderson never came back.]
no subject
When she looks at Martin's face, an anger festers in her heart- not at him, but at his circumstances. When will the next member of his family leave him? Rex first, or Andy, or her? Maybe Archie.
Maybe Martin himself, back to the hellish place he grew up.
She sighs, holds back a frown. He doesn't need that. ]
...You can keep reading, if you want. You really are doing fine.
no subject
he wishes he could just...turn off worry, the way one can turn off a light with a switch. does that work for anyone, though? it certainly doesn't for him.
he licks his lips and remains quiet a beat longer, his finger moving across the page in search of where he'd left off. from there, the stilted, but stalwart reading begins again.]
no subject
She's proud of him. She doesn't know what to do with how she cares about Martin, often- she doesn't feel like she has any sort of parental instinct, despite all the tabloids back in her world joking about her having to mother the Pantheon. But she knows, inherently, why Rex and Andy adapted their lives around taking care of this kid.
She's done it too, really.
She'll sit there and let him read as long as he wants. It's the least she can do for him. ]