dark_light | we do not bear children until we have so chosen

Amariah appears in the Belltower, throws herself into a chair, and tries to read postcards, but her eyes won't focus on them. She tries the Bellbook, and scarcely has better luck, although her eyes do catch on a certain word.

"Jane."

"Yep?"

"I want to talk to Aether."

"I'll let her know!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

telesonorous

"...Kas is still - being sad," she says quietly.

From:

dark_light

"Yeah. I'm - not in a position to be really comforting, just yet. I think I need to finish reading the postcards first, minimum. If only I'll do - then nothing doing. If he wants somejoker to show up and be soothing, Jane's up, she can fetch him anybody who'll come. Although I guess the ones who have daemons already are busy so they'd need the star."

From:

telesonorous

"Okay," says Helen. "...Do you want to read the postcards?"

From:

dark_light

"Now, you mean?" Path utters a considering hoot. "Yeah. I guess."

She fishes around in her bag for the next one.

From:

pythbox

The postcards have stopped being postcards, at least primarily; now they're just about anything you could write on.

After a spate of doodled owls - it looks like he went through an entire pad of hotel stationery - the next thing she pulls out of the bag is a crumpled movie poster with her name misspelled in the subtitle and HA FUCKING HA scrawled across it in red Sharpie.

From:

dark_light

Amariah makes an eloquently repulsed face at the movie poster.

From:

telesonorous

Helen peers at it.

"Wow, that came out waaaaaay before I was born. They've gotten a little better. Well, they figured out how to spell your name, at least."

From:

dark_light

"Wow. Wow this is mortifying." She rolls up the poster, stuffs it back into the magic bag, and grabs the next thing.

From:

pythbox

A restaurant receipt - I love you.

A hotel business card - I miss you so much.

A postcard from Vancouver - Just had the most amazing thunderstorm.

A scrap of lined paper - Shitty morning, better afternoon. ♥

A postcard from Detroit - I don't know whether I'm writing these to you or to me.

From:

dark_light

She sighs. She keeps reading.

From:

pythbox

More of the same - snippets of his life, the constant refrain of I love you, I miss you.

After a while, a letter, looking somewhat the worse for wear - some of these things bear hints of how they were destroyed, and this one was apparently cried on profusely and then burned.

From:

dark_light

This letter is crushed a little in her hand and pressed to her lips, not quite in a kiss, and then she puts it away and moves on.

From:

pythbox

The tone of the postcards changes a little, after the letter; fewer of them just say 'I miss you', and the rest are somewhat happier.

There are still a lot of them.

And as the years of one-sided correspondence wear by, the 'I miss you's start creeping back in.

One postcard, from Quebec City, says: Augustine died. I didn't even know. Talked to her last night and she says she's not coming back. Fuck.

Subsequent postcards take on a darker tone. He's not happy; he misses her. There are moments of joy, and he tells her about most of them, but there's a melancholy edge to it even when he's talking about the amazing waffles he had this morning or how gorgeous the Aurora is from the air.

From:

dark_light

Amariah reads. And reads. She's not paying attention to the Dominiques anymore.

From:

pythbox

(The Dominiques are talking quietly by themselves, across the room.)

Eventually, there is a postcard that says, Talked to your mom today. She's still adorable. I miss you so much.

And another one after a week that says, I can't do this anymore.

And the next postcard - after almost two years, the longest stretch of silence yet - says, in smallish writing:

Shit fucking hell, sweetie. I don't even know how to say this.

You have a daughter. Her name is Helen. Her daemon's Kalavar. Likes being ducklings.

I meant to have a kid - I didn't mean her to be yours. She wasn't supposed to be anyone's. I don't even know if that makes it better or worse. I don't know what happened. Fuck.

From:

dark_light

This one is very thoroughly crushed, after she's memorized it.

She rubs her eyes. She reads the next one.

From:

pythbox

The next one says, Helen Ianthe.

And they are almost all about Helen, now. Helen's daemon branched out from ducklings to snakes. Helen's birth blessing is gonna make Kalavar stronger than she looks and give them an easier time separating. Helen met Charlie. Helen likes strawberries. Helen's birthday is August third - well, August something, but third is what he told Charlie so that's what'll stick. Helen is playing with some other witch babies and it's cute. Helen, Helen, Helen.

From:

dark_light

It does sound cute.

(Mercifully, Amariah's getting used to the name.)

From:

pythbox

Helen made a friend, and now she calls Kas her mommydaddyspinach. Helen's learning dagger; Helen's learning magic. Helen likes magic. Helen probably has an ingot power, something to do with her voice.

Shura (the friend) wished she didn't have to sleep so much. A drawing of a pentagon, with a line slashed off the edge of the card like he was interrupted while drawing it - and then, Helen wished too. She said it would be more fun if you got to pick your birth blessing. She wanted grace. (The card is extremely crumpled, and the second message was obviously written after the crumpling, much more shakily.)

From:

dark_light

Amariah stares at this one for a long time, then puts it away and draws the next.

From:

pythbox

Took her to an aquarium with Ranata. Now she's calling Ranata a manatee. Because they're both huggable, apparently. I love this kid so much.

Next postcard just says, "Granatee" and a grinning smiley face.