i don't need receipts she's that small AND she's using you as her blood sponge?? she needs to pick a fucking struggle anyway i'll be there
[ If any other messages are sent she doesn't reply to them. The next day she arrives and is surly, speaks in short grunts and scowls only. But she does her job and she does it well enough- tempering her demeanor and turning into someone who seems quiet, much more mysterious even if a little stern. It goes well enough too, and when it's done and the children have been cleared away for the most part their attentions now focused on the selection of snacks offered to them. Rose sits at the edge of the stage with a boy no older than 9 who could pass for a younger brother. He's nearly her spitting image.
She's examining his art project, brow wrinkled in focus. ]
What the hell is this?
"It's you and me! See? The one with the angry eyebrows is you. And I'm the shiny one, cause I'm a dragon in this. Those're my scales, see? See!"
How much of that glitter did you eat?
"Um.. well- not any!"
Open your mouth.
"Aww.. come on Rose!"
"Open. Your. Mouth."
[ Before he can though she's prying his lips open in that no nonsense mother way that is not strong enough to be cruel but forceful enough that he has no choice but to agree to her demands. ]
Yeah, that's what I thought. Go wash that shit out of your mouth before you eat. Wash your hands too, they're disgusting.
"Okaaaay, okay!"
[ The boy runs off, seemingly unaffected by his mother's attitude and clearly very excited to indulge in snacks and whatever it is little boys discussed among one another. ]
[Suletta winces at the last series of messages, feeling the unhappy little twist in her stomach that usually signaled the advent of spiraling anxiety. She's got enough of a handle on it these days, having done the trial by fire combination of teaching and international outreach work, say nothing of being married to Miorine Rembran. So she takes a few deep breaths until she feels the knot in her stomach go away. Decides to back out. She wonders if the mood had shifted, or if it had been that way from the start and she'd been too oblivious to realize it.
Another twist in the pit of her stomach. Another set of deep breaths.
The event goes well, and she has the good sense to back off the second it looks like Rose isn't up for talking. Miorine had rolled her eyes at Suletta's request to let her do the talking and to keep her distance, but acquiesced as she usually did. She had not said anything particularly cutting or dismissive about Rose either, and as the main event begins to wind down, Suletta finally allows herself to feel relaxed.
She catches the tail-end of Rose's conversation with her son as she approaches, and can't help but smile. The other day her mother had mentioned grandchildren out of the blue. Said that she was not getting any younger, a rare joke on her own account, and that it would be nice. Ericht, her golden child, seemed disinclined to carry on that particular burden. Perhaps she felt that she had enough already.
You would be a good mother, her mother had said, and the Rembran girl would make a passable one, which Suletta had laughed at, surprised. Her mother never joked much with her. Only Eri.
But Miorine was so busy. Bringing it up would only cause her more things to worry about. Her gaze turns a little wistful as she watches the boy and his young mother.
She approaches Rose cautiously once Mikhail runs off.]
That was really wonderful. I think that the children will remember it for a long time.
I think they were just happy to get out of going to class.
[ Her response is dismissive of this indirect praise but not biting. Her son's presence often seemed to level out her mood though some degree of surliness was just a facet of who she was. ]
You've got a decent set up here, even if it is a tax shelter.
[ Better than the churches most rich fucks seemed to set up as a charity right off she decides. ]
My kids obsessed— with you and this place. I send him to some swanky private school for the security but I hate the kids there and he doesn't get along much with them either.
[For a time, Suletta stares at Zero with wide eyes. It's not that she's unaccustomed to this kind of gruff and brutally honest kind of talk — it's that usually, these days, when she hired anyone for anything...
It was so strange. People were in one of two camps: effusively grateful to the point of causing Suletta discomfort, or teeming with resentment. Rose seems like neither. Dislike, sure. Dislike's a much simpler attitude to deal with outside of being jumpscared via text message.
And besides, Rose was a little funny, even when she was being disagreeable like this. It's a form of humor that is biting, the kind that made Miorine's feathers ruffle because it was so similar to her own. Yes, it had been best to keep them separated like she used to with the toddlers in the daycares she'd helped build.
Suletta does not say this. It's wise to keep certain things to yourself.
She coughs behind her fist to hide a laugh instead.] Mm. If you say so. Thank you. [Her smile is benign and she does not comment further other than that. She remembers helping build the stage Rose had stood on to perform today. Something to bring up later.
The comment about Mikhail makes her turn in surprise. Gradually, bashfulness overtakes her and she glances away.]
Oh, he's — he's a really sweet kid. I'm happy he was able to join us today.
[It occurs to her that Zero might be asking for something.]
Would you like to know more about the school? I can send you some information.
[ it's more a wistful blanket statement, and Suletta's offer reminds her it's an option, her own mind had just already cast away the possibility of her son living any kind of normal life— even despite her best attempts.
Protecting him came first. ]
Well, I mean— it's a school, just a school. If I could put him in just a school I would have from the start.
[ Rose stands, dusting her hands off on her jeans. There's an undercut of skittish in her behavior, slight but there. It's a sensitive topic, one she feels as much guilt about as she does frustration. ]
[Being no stranger to anxiousness — herself, Miorine's, Ericht — she's quick to realize that this topic's one she'll need to tread carefully around. It's still a little tenuous between them since their last string of messages, and Suletta hates the idea of causing anyone discomfort more than anything.
She listens, patient and without judgment. Her smile returns: a little more mischievous than before.]
Mm, you'd be surprised. My mom's serious about defense. Almost more than Miorine - hup!
[Carefully and gingerly, she seats herself on the edge of the stage. It's slow-going, but she manages after a time, setting her cane beside her when she's done.] She has a lot of, um, contingencies. And - [with a seriousness that only makes her seem even more harmless, she adds:] I know I don't seem like much, but I'm no pushover!
[Something in her expression shutters when Zero mentions Miorine, however. She thinks of watching her get dressed this morning. She had not known Suletta was awake, that she was being watched. She'd seen the exhausted slump of her shoulders and the way she'd buried her head in her hands in the blue morning light.]
I think that she would. [She says after a moment of contemplation, her head tilted up toward the ceiling.] If we had children, yes. She hated school. Not a lot of people know that about her, but private school didn't suit her either. She would want, mm. She would want her children to be somewhere where they were happy and felt safe.
[ Rose watches and listens without interrupting and without shifting her expression, oddly respectful in the face of Suletta's slow maneuvering and answer to what she realizes is a sensitive topic.
She is many things, but she isn't one to prod people about the personal. So even though there's clearly something there she leaves it be; it doesn't really matter, anyway. ]
Safe and happy don't really go together most of the time.
[ If they did, parenting would be much easier than it was. ]
The school he's at right now- his classmates are all the crotch goblins of influencers with insured silicon asses.. rappers, pop stars and celebrity scientologists. He doesn't get along with them because somehow, despite my.. everything he's normal. He likes to play in dirt and pretend he's a dragon. But those kids have parents like his, worse than his in most cases.
[ No one brings up his father, who'd made a comfortable living out of scamming, conning and leveraging some well-to-do bloodline that'd fizzled out long ago. Or Rose's.. everything. ]
I've done a lot to keep my shit separate from him, even if he ends up hating me and his life because of it- dunno'.. that's the fuckall of motherhood I guess.
It's a serious conversation, so she tries not to laugh but does anyway — softly, a hand pressed to her mouth to quell it. It isn't that the circumstances are funny, just—
"Sorry, it's only... the way you describe things. It's funny." To herself, she murmurs: "Crotch goblins..."
She'd met her share of these people that Rose speaks of with such disdain. Luckily not often; Miorine's circle of influence was more readily found in business and corporate ventures. And her own was in places that most celebrities would push donating for but not actually wading into. Hearing the way Zero talks about her son convinces her more than anything else that she was not one of the celebrities she spoke so disdainfully of. No, not at all.
Her expression fades into a rarely seen sobriety. She's thinking. Tapping her finger against her cheek, blue-green eyes dim with contemplation.
"It doesn't have to be that way." Her voice is gentle, calm and understanding. "There are other parents who have... the same concerns as you, and they let their children attend here. How about this? Let me make a phone call to someone, and I'll..."
She begins, and then a voice cuts in, echoing and decisive in the near-empty room: "There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere."
Miorine's heels click along the auditorium floor. Suletta brightens at the sight of her, bearing out her scolding (you climbed up here? you should be careful, remember what your doctor said...) and taking her extended hand to be helped down with a quiet word of thanks. Miorine acknowledges Rose's presence with a cool flicker of her gaze in her direction, a flat and assessing once-over. She does not smile, though she provides a compliment nonetheless. She'd been moved by it in fact; Suletta recalls holding her a little closer when her gaze had dropped in the middle of a song, seeing the abrupt gesture for what it was.
"Good show," is her sparse compliment. We'll send the check-"
Suletta tugs at the sleeve of her jacket. Her serene smile is a little overbright, as if to make up for the coolness that had settled over everything. Miorine breathes out carefully through her teeth.
"And thank you very much."
"Yes!" Suletta follows up with much more enthusiasm, reaching out to shake Rose's hand. "You were amazing." She puts a hand to her chest. Solemnly: "I promise to buy every album."
This finally earns a smile from Miorine. "I heard you all weekend. You're really good," she says, with more sincerity now. And then, to Suletta: "Come on."
Only then does Suletta allow them to turn away, allows Miorine to put a steadying hand on the small of her back, lets herself lean her weight into Miorine at her nonverbal urging. It does help. It had been a long day. Before they depart, however, she looks over her shoulder at Rose and finishes what she was saying.
"I'll send you an email! I'll figure something out for Mikhail. It was nice speaking with you again!"
Miorine's hand shifts further up her back, a just so pressure at her spine that always makes her look down to pay attention. Soon enough, they're talking over what to have for dinner.
She holds to her promise, however, and her emails were far more involved and professional than her texting presence. There are attached brochures, regularly scheduled events and field trips, curriculum. A number of other, more involved things as well: schematics of the school, something about an "advanced defense system." It's likely too much information to read in one sitting.
She finishes with,
Please contact my mother or myself if you have any additional questions about our security and defense systems. I've CCed her to this email.
Mother, huh.
It's her specialty!
In any event, Suletta gives Rose about a week before she calls. In part to give her a little time, and also because... even for her mother, smooth and cunning as she was, Rose was a hard sell. Prospera enjoyed a challenge, but she'd been curious: why all the fuss for one child? Surely he couldn't be so remarkable. Suletta had responded in so many words that he was, actually, and she thought it would help him and his mother both. Unaccustomed to her daughter exhibiting any sort of authority, Prospera dramatically put a hand to her chest and smiled one of those smiles that reminded Suletta of a cat with a bird pinned to the ground. And thus her sales pitch continued.
Suletta's doing paperwork late today: dappled sunset is slanting in from the half-open blinds before she has a chance to come up for air and make her phone call. She's braced herself for the no, the disappointment that would follow, but still she's nervous and oddly giddy about the call anyway.
Odd.
"Mi- ah, sorry. Rose? It's Suletta Rembran again." As if this was not obvious. She continues, "Do you have a little time to talk?"
Rose watches Suletta's inter-domestic relations play out before her; it's such a short interaction but tells her all she needs to know about their dynamic. The concern and love are both equally as apparent and for that reason she softens, lets her ire fall somewhere in between 'I don't respect you' and 'Well, I guess you're still human' (because she has only ever alluded to this in her music: but a capacity to selflessly love another was ultimately the only trait she truly valued in another person).
Rose waves listlessly as the two of them retreat.
"No one buys albums anymore."
Is the only response she has to everything that's transpired in front of her.
She's elbow deep in her freezer, trying to find something that will suffice for dinner when she gets the call. When she answers the sound of shuffling and the incessant beeping that follows when you've had your freezer open for too long carries across the phone line.
"You eat what I made, or chicken nuggets- or you can go hungry! Your choice kid."
Some more shuffling as she slides the phone against her shoulder and face and closes the door shut with her hip.
"You changed your last name when you got hitched, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised."
Somehow that's the first thing that comes to mind.
Content to listen to the sounds of Rose and Mikhail's bickering over the phone, this snapshot into their daily life, she waits patiently until she's addressed properly. Her response is a little guarded, masked as her usual sheepishness. "Is it strange? It's what husbands and wives do too." She doubts that garden variety squeamishness around her and Miorine's relationship prompted the quip, but she mentions it all the same.
"How are you today? I was wondering if you had some time to think over the school? Ah, and my mother... I'm sure she's spoken to you too." She knows she has, in fact, had requested that she do so, but things worked in her favor when she kept the veneer of separation between them. "She mentioned you seemed concerned still, so I thought I would call in case you had other questions."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
she's that small AND she's using you as her blood sponge??
she needs to pick a fucking struggle
anyway i'll be there
[ If any other messages are sent she doesn't reply to them. The next day she arrives and is surly, speaks in short grunts and scowls only. But she does her job and she does it well enough- tempering her demeanor and turning into someone who seems quiet, much more mysterious even if a little stern. It goes well enough too, and when it's done and the children have been cleared away for the most part their attentions now focused on the selection of snacks offered to them. Rose sits at the edge of the stage with a boy no older than 9 who could pass for a younger brother. He's nearly her spitting image.
She's examining his art project, brow wrinkled in focus. ]
What the hell is this?
"It's you and me! See? The one with the angry eyebrows is you. And I'm the shiny one, cause I'm a dragon in this. Those're my scales, see? See!"
How much of that glitter did you eat?
"Um.. well- not any!"
Open your mouth.
"Aww.. come on Rose!"
"Open. Your. Mouth."
[ Before he can though she's prying his lips open in that no nonsense mother way that is not strong enough to be cruel but forceful enough that he has no choice but to agree to her demands. ]
Yeah, that's what I thought. Go wash that shit out of your mouth before you eat. Wash your hands too, they're disgusting.
"Okaaaay, okay!"
[ The boy runs off, seemingly unaffected by his mother's attitude and clearly very excited to indulge in snacks and whatever it is little boys discussed among one another. ]
no subject
Another twist in the pit of her stomach. Another set of deep breaths.
The event goes well, and she has the good sense to back off the second it looks like Rose isn't up for talking. Miorine had rolled her eyes at Suletta's request to let her do the talking and to keep her distance, but acquiesced as she usually did. She had not said anything particularly cutting or dismissive about Rose either, and as the main event begins to wind down, Suletta finally allows herself to feel relaxed.
She catches the tail-end of Rose's conversation with her son as she approaches, and can't help but smile. The other day her mother had mentioned grandchildren out of the blue. Said that she was not getting any younger, a rare joke on her own account, and that it would be nice. Ericht, her golden child, seemed disinclined to carry on that particular burden. Perhaps she felt that she had enough already.
You would be a good mother, her mother had said, and the Rembran girl would make a passable one, which Suletta had laughed at, surprised. Her mother never joked much with her. Only Eri.
But Miorine was so busy. Bringing it up would only cause her more things to worry about. Her gaze turns a little wistful as she watches the boy and his young mother.
She approaches Rose cautiously once Mikhail runs off.]
That was really wonderful. I think that the children will remember it for a long time.
no subject
[ Her response is dismissive of this indirect praise but not biting. Her son's presence often seemed to level out her mood though some degree of surliness was just a facet of who she was. ]
You've got a decent set up here, even if it is a tax shelter.
[ Better than the churches most rich fucks seemed to set up as a charity right off she decides. ]
My kids obsessed— with you and this place. I send him to some swanky private school for the security but I hate the kids there and he doesn't get along much with them either.
no subject
It was so strange. People were in one of two camps: effusively grateful to the point of causing Suletta discomfort, or teeming with resentment. Rose seems like neither. Dislike, sure. Dislike's a much simpler attitude to deal with outside of being jumpscared via text message.
And besides, Rose was a little funny, even when she was being disagreeable like this. It's a form of humor that is biting, the kind that made Miorine's feathers ruffle because it was so similar to her own. Yes, it had been best to keep them separated like she used to with the toddlers in the daycares she'd helped build.
Suletta does not say this. It's wise to keep certain things to yourself.
She coughs behind her fist to hide a laugh instead.] Mm. If you say so. Thank you. [Her smile is benign and she does not comment further other than that. She remembers helping build the stage Rose had stood on to perform today. Something to bring up later.
The comment about Mikhail makes her turn in surprise. Gradually, bashfulness overtakes her and she glances away.]
Oh, he's — he's a really sweet kid. I'm happy he was able to join us today.
[It occurs to her that Zero might be asking for something.]
Would you like to know more about the school? I can send you some information.
no subject
Protecting him came first. ]
Well, I mean— it's a school, just a school. If I could put him in just a school I would have from the start.
[ Rose stands, dusting her hands off on her jeans. There's an undercut of skittish in her behavior, slight but there. It's a sensitive topic, one she feels as much guilt about as she does frustration. ]
Would your wife send your kids here?
no subject
She listens, patient and without judgment. Her smile returns: a little more mischievous than before.]
Mm, you'd be surprised. My mom's serious about defense. Almost more than Miorine - hup!
[Carefully and gingerly, she seats herself on the edge of the stage. It's slow-going, but she manages after a time, setting her cane beside her when she's done.] She has a lot of, um, contingencies. And - [with a seriousness that only makes her seem even more harmless, she adds:] I know I don't seem like much, but I'm no pushover!
[Something in her expression shutters when Zero mentions Miorine, however. She thinks of watching her get dressed this morning. She had not known Suletta was awake, that she was being watched. She'd seen the exhausted slump of her shoulders and the way she'd buried her head in her hands in the blue morning light.]
I think that she would. [She says after a moment of contemplation, her head tilted up toward the ceiling.] If we had children, yes. She hated school. Not a lot of people know that about her, but private school didn't suit her either. She would want, mm. She would want her children to be somewhere where they were happy and felt safe.
[She turns to Rose, her expression kind.]
It's the same with any parent, right?
no subject
She is many things, but she isn't one to prod people about the personal. So even though there's clearly something there she leaves it be; it doesn't really matter, anyway. ]
Safe and happy don't really go together most of the time.
[ If they did, parenting would be much easier than it was. ]
The school he's at right now- his classmates are all the crotch goblins of influencers with insured silicon asses.. rappers, pop stars and celebrity scientologists. He doesn't get along with them because somehow, despite my.. everything he's normal. He likes to play in dirt and pretend he's a dragon. But those kids have parents like his, worse than his in most cases.
[ No one brings up his father, who'd made a comfortable living out of scamming, conning and leveraging some well-to-do bloodline that'd fizzled out long ago. Or Rose's.. everything. ]
I've done a lot to keep my shit separate from him, even if he ends up hating me and his life because of it- dunno'.. that's the fuckall of motherhood I guess.
no subject
"Sorry, it's only... the way you describe things. It's funny." To herself, she murmurs: "Crotch goblins..."
She'd met her share of these people that Rose speaks of with such disdain. Luckily not often; Miorine's circle of influence was more readily found in business and corporate ventures. And her own was in places that most celebrities would push donating for but not actually wading into. Hearing the way Zero talks about her son convinces her more than anything else that she was not one of the celebrities she spoke so disdainfully of. No, not at all.
Her expression fades into a rarely seen sobriety. She's thinking. Tapping her finger against her cheek, blue-green eyes dim with contemplation.
"It doesn't have to be that way." Her voice is gentle, calm and understanding. "There are other parents who have... the same concerns as you, and they let their children attend here. How about this? Let me make a phone call to someone, and I'll..."
She begins, and then a voice cuts in, echoing and decisive in the near-empty room: "There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere."
Miorine's heels click along the auditorium floor. Suletta brightens at the sight of her, bearing out her scolding (you climbed up here? you should be careful, remember what your doctor said...) and taking her extended hand to be helped down with a quiet word of thanks. Miorine acknowledges Rose's presence with a cool flicker of her gaze in her direction, a flat and assessing once-over. She does not smile, though she provides a compliment nonetheless. She'd been moved by it in fact; Suletta recalls holding her a little closer when her gaze had dropped in the middle of a song, seeing the abrupt gesture for what it was.
"Good show," is her sparse compliment. We'll send the check-"
Suletta tugs at the sleeve of her jacket. Her serene smile is a little overbright, as if to make up for the coolness that had settled over everything. Miorine breathes out carefully through her teeth.
"And thank you very much."
"Yes!" Suletta follows up with much more enthusiasm, reaching out to shake Rose's hand. "You were amazing." She puts a hand to her chest. Solemnly: "I promise to buy every album."
This finally earns a smile from Miorine. "I heard you all weekend. You're really good," she says, with more sincerity now. And then, to Suletta: "Come on."
Only then does Suletta allow them to turn away, allows Miorine to put a steadying hand on the small of her back, lets herself lean her weight into Miorine at her nonverbal urging. It does help. It had been a long day. Before they depart, however, she looks over her shoulder at Rose and finishes what she was saying.
"I'll send you an email! I'll figure something out for Mikhail. It was nice speaking with you again!"
Miorine's hand shifts further up her back, a just so pressure at her spine that always makes her look down to pay attention. Soon enough, they're talking over what to have for dinner.
She holds to her promise, however, and her emails were far more involved and professional than her texting presence. There are attached brochures, regularly scheduled events and field trips, curriculum. A number of other, more involved things as well: schematics of the school, something about an "advanced defense system." It's likely too much information to read in one sitting.
She finishes with,
Please contact my mother or myself if you have any additional questions about our security and defense systems. I've CCed her to this email.
Mother, huh.
It's her specialty!
In any event, Suletta gives Rose about a week before she calls. In part to give her a little time, and also because... even for her mother, smooth and cunning as she was, Rose was a hard sell. Prospera enjoyed a challenge, but she'd been curious: why all the fuss for one child? Surely he couldn't be so remarkable. Suletta had responded in so many words that he was, actually, and she thought it would help him and his mother both. Unaccustomed to her daughter exhibiting any sort of authority, Prospera dramatically put a hand to her chest and smiled one of those smiles that reminded Suletta of a cat with a bird pinned to the ground. And thus her sales pitch continued.
Suletta's doing paperwork late today: dappled sunset is slanting in from the half-open blinds before she has a chance to come up for air and make her phone call. She's braced herself for the no, the disappointment that would follow, but still she's nervous and oddly giddy about the call anyway.
Odd.
"Mi- ah, sorry. Rose? It's Suletta Rembran again." As if this was not obvious. She continues, "Do you have a little time to talk?"
no subject
Rose waves listlessly as the two of them retreat.
"No one buys albums anymore."
Is the only response she has to everything that's transpired in front of her.
She's elbow deep in her freezer, trying to find something that will suffice for dinner when she gets the call. When she answers the sound of shuffling and the incessant beeping that follows when you've had your freezer open for too long carries across the phone line.
"You eat what I made, or chicken nuggets- or you can go hungry! Your choice kid."
Some more shuffling as she slides the phone against her shoulder and face and closes the door shut with her hip.
"You changed your last name when you got hitched, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised."
Somehow that's the first thing that comes to mind.
no subject
"How are you today? I was wondering if you had some time to think over the school? Ah, and my mother... I'm sure she's spoken to you too." She knows she has, in fact, had requested that she do so, but things worked in her favor when she kept the veneer of separation between them. "She mentioned you seemed concerned still, so I thought I would call in case you had other questions."