Difference between revisions of "Logs:The Victim"

It's near mid-morning when M'vyn heads into the Stores, intent on rummaging through the boxes of unused, or gently used, children's clothes to locate a few spare outfits for his children. Within an hour of being there, he's settled in the back corner, three or four boxes spread around him as he kneels on the floor. He flips clothes out of the boxes, holding them up to inspect before he folds and either replaces them in the box or sets them aside. If any of the staff knows of his rummaging, no one else is keeping him company. Or telling him to stop.

Tippetarius is the first to appear, from around one shelving unit before she unsteadily tumbles towards the next, then disappears entirely. When she reappears, she's got the light folds of an un-dyed blanket caught in and dangling from her claws, the whole thing dragging her down, her size and physical impairment hindering her as she trails the fabric along the floor. Eventually, she drops it, then vanishes again, and though she doesn't immediately return to reclaim it, footsteps herald the arrival of someone else. Nala is quick to retrieve the blanket from the floor and begins to fold it, M'vyn given a silent, assessing once over before she makes a final fold in the fabric.

M'vyn knows Tippetarius - she's too distinguishable to be mistaken for another gold - and her arrival in his space is met with a scowl. Her abandonment of the blanket and disappearance cause M'vyn to shake his head. He knows the steps that he hears are Nala's and when she gives him that silent assessment he meets her with a stony-look. "Gathering a blanket for your new love nest?" he demands, not bothering to maintain silence (and in so doing, a chance at ending their run in without issue).

Moments pass, then Tippetarius puts in another appearance, dragging another blanket of the same fabric and colour with her, and dumps it right where she left the first one. And then she's off again. Almost without acknowledging her, Nala bends to retrieve the new offering from the ground, and begins to fold it, the other kept pinned beneath one arm. "I fail to see why you should take issue with my gathering anything for any purpose at all," she answers coolly, securing the second blanket along with the first. She waits. "You've not the right of it, after all."

"Do you see what I'm doing here?" M'vyn asks of her, keeping his tone flat as he lifts a dress that would possibly fit Grace. "I'm picking out clothes for our children as they've started to grow out of their current sets. I've yet to have the time to take them to Weaver, or have them measured here, for a set made for them." He throws the dress back into the box, likely unfolding it in the process. "While I continue to do their daily tasks and take care of them, you've decided to go and play house with your lover." His eyes give more of his anger away than his face, which remains set in unreadable lines. "I've plenty of right to be angry with you."

"You have no right," Nala answers, just as calmly as before, right as Tippetarius presents her with another blanket to fold. "You made your choice. You refused to let me take the children to Southern. You have another woman in their home with them. You refused to acknowledge me while I carried one of them. I think it is your turn to find out how that feels." She's careful with the fabric, lining up corners and edges. "I can have them clothes from Weaver by this evening," the bluerider declares, far too blase about it. "It is not a problem."

"Of course it's not a problem as you have no other responsibilities to hold you back," M'vyn responds, shaking his head as he returns his gaze to focusing on the clothes in front of him. "You're always full of accusations and finger-pointing, Nala. But your failures far outweigh mine." He pauses in his sifting of clothes, staring into the box for a prolonged period of silence. When he looks up at her again, he tells her, "You never quite understood what I was going through back then. You always have to be the victim. The one to pity, or respect, or the one to say, 'Oh yes, Nala. You did it all on your own. Poor girl.'" He shakes his head and rises, dusting his knees off briefly. "You'll get no such respect from me for your continued lacking."

Nala shrugs one shoulder. "What exactly do you hope to achieve with this little tirade?" she questions, turning to set the folded blankets down in some free space on a nearby shelf while she continues with the rest. "I am a bad mother. I committed infidelity. I am a failure." Another shrug, her words delivered impassively. "I am the reason you set foot on the Sands, which you will never get over. Anything else?" Tippetarius creels, one claw caught in her latest delivery, and Nala bends to free her. "I asked you once to tell me every nasty little thing you wished to say. Now you have started, why don't you continue?"

M'vyn looks at her as he stands there, hands opening and closing at his sides. "Because you aren't worth it," he tells her. He turns then, choosing to leave the Stores rather than take those items he collected and set aside so thoughtfully. He pauses by the door and looks back at her, the slightest sign of hurt flickering across his face. "You win." He turns and leaves then, leaving her alone.

"Congratulations on becoming your father," Nala lifts her voice to call after him, volume compensating nearly enough to keep her tone even and conceal the tremor and threat of anything else in her voice. "I do believe the transformation is complete." Fold, fold, then that latest blanket joins the others on the shelf, settled so innocuously out of place. "You don't deserve the beautiful children I gave you," she mutters under her breath. Where she won't shriek, Tippetarius does, the sound as piercing as ever, the little gold's eyes whirling red in the seconds before she vanishes again.