Picking up the Pieces II [Jesse]

[Phoenix]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jesse Fforde> The letter was a step that Phoenix had taken that I did not expect. The letter might have been far more appreciated had she not promptly gone and killed herself afterwards, telling no one else where she was going, what she was doing or why. I ruminated upon it for hours, hours that might have made up days. It distracted me from the other problems in my life. The wraith that continued to prod and push, to persuade and cajole. Velveteen had found for me the information that I needed to promptly sever the loose end from my childhood. But I hadn’t taken the first steps. I don’t know why.

I blamed it on the letter that Phoenix had sent. I blamed it, then, on her return, a week later—the messages that I spied on the Altaire Crownet, the explanation that she had given, and the immediate forgiveness offered by those she had abandoned. I couldn’t believe Juliet, so willing to just let it slide. Such a selfish act, and yet it was all fine and dandy. Sure, why not.

Still, I re-read the letter that Phoenix had sent. Regardless of how much I disagreed with how she went about gaining the perspective she needed, I was curious to see whether she had gained said perspective. How changed she might be. I retrieved my phone and sent the text:

“How was the holiday? Sunny, I hope. I’m in park opposite Westwall station, if you want to meet.”


<Phoenix> I could have spent hours debating a reply to the text message I’d just received. From Jesse. I could have been an inconsiderate ***** about the whole thing and left him waiting – I was comfortable in my newly appropriated bed, but the person that made it worth sticking around for wasn’t around. I knew why he wasn’t, of course, so despite the thought I wasn’t exactly venomous. It really just was very comfortable.

Alas, given my wake up message sometime in the middle of the night, comfort hardly seemed the name of the game for the night. Positive this was about to be one of the most uncomfortable meetings I’ve ever had the displeasure of attending, I sucked it up, got up and got dressed. Considering I’d be there nigh instantaneously, I didn’t bother replying. After pulling on an old pair of jeans, a worn hoodie and my winter jacket – the warm, puffy one I’d had since I was alive and made me look like a penguin: Once in the park – my Thornside park – it didn’t take me long to spot Jesse and make my way over. I knew he wouldn’t understand what I was about to say, at least not yet, but some day I’d explain if he earned it. “It was brighter and more colorful than I’ve ever experienced. No sun, lots of moonlight… Positively tropical, really. And things here?” I asked, but glancing around at the desolate snow-filled landscape, I figured I’d had a better time in death than most Canadians.


<Jesse Fforde> I know that I do not feel the cold like humans do, that I do not need to swaddle myself in layers of clothing to keep it at bay. Aware of the Masquerade that I am bound to keep, however, I stick to protocol—I’m wearing jeans and a crisp, white button-up. Over the top, a vest. And over the top of that, a proper winter jacket in all its puffy glory. There’s a beanie on my head, too—not something stupid, but rather a light-grey wool, somewhat stylish.

I figure that Phoenix should know me by now—though I do get the impression that she never did know me much. She thinks that I was never very accommodating, but she failed to understand that I am an asshole to most people. That most things I communicate are done so with sarcasm. With teasing. And that’s what it is, most of the time—I’m not deliberately being an asshole. I’m teasing. And if people can’t handle it… well.

So I don’t sugar coat my communication now. I don’t pretend to be sickly sweet. And besides, as soon as she appears, Phoenix answers my question. I have to watch her, intently, for a couple of seconds to figure out whether she’s serious or not. Whether she was being sarcastic. Somehow, I don’t think she is.

I wriggle sideways, indicating that she should take a seat beside me. I have left my weapons at home—maybe a stupid idea, but it’s something I’ve done, nonetheless. A show of good faith. I give a shrug. My phone is still in my hands. It is how I will be talking to her, rather than pen and paper. I’m not one for small talk, obviously. I type out a text:

“I was just being me. I’m sorry if I was abrasive. Reading your letter, I think we are more alike than we know. I don’t open up to others. Talking didn’t seem like an option. What’s done is done. Regret it now, if things could have gone smoother. But if you were always going to make me choose, regardless, the outcome would have been the same.”


<Phoenix> Nothing I’d said had been anything other than pure and simple truth in the most beautiful form. As I sat down next to my wayward childe, I realized I was smiling. It probably wasn’t the best expression to have plastered all over my face, but I was happy, damn it. Taking a deep breath, I smoothed the expression away, taking care not to make it seem like I was mocking him. I wasn’t, but he really couldn’t know that, given what he knew of the realm beyond.

I watched him for a moment, watching his fingers over the keys and then my phone vibrated somewhere deep in the folds of my penguin jacket. With a grumble, I fished it out and read. My expression was blank as I skimmed over the words once, twice… three times. Finally, I looked up from the message to meet his eyes. He deserved that much.

“I wasn’t going to make you choose. I never made Athena or Legion choose – it was just you. And then Axel, but I realized that was stupid and apologized to him. I had a lot of **** I had to work out on my own. It was bad enough before Legion left… and that’s when I completely lost my marbles.” No matter how much time had passed, talking about this still hurt more than I ever wanted to admit. And right then, the last thing I wanted was to cry, so I just stared out over the lake and waited for the pressure at the back of my eyes to go away. It took longer than I expected, but finally, it subsided.

“I needed to leave Ty anyway. I don’t blame anyone there for it, but the environment had become toxic – Vel wanted me to lead, so she treated me differently – I was expected to be better than everyone else, but got nothing other than crap out of it. I never wanted to lead, but if that’s the standard I was going to be held to anyway, why not do it? And then after all the crap, she took that away and still held me to the same, higher standard. Eventually, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore and I needed to leave. I should have left before it got that toxic. I wish Vel had realized that she was pushing me too hard. But she didn’t and… that’s what started the clusterfuck that culminated in this.” It was vague as far as concluding statements went, but I’d exhausted myself emotionally and it was all I could muster.


<Jesse Fforde> I listen, watching Phoenix carefully, taking note of every twitch in her facial expression, and sitting patiently as I waited in the silence between words, as she stares off at the distance; I get the impression she isn’t finished. And then she continues, and I continue to listen. Gaze narrows steadily, the corners of my lips curling into an unaccustomed frown. I realise I’m expecting her to try to turn me against Tytonidae and Velveteen, to berate me for my choice. But she doesn’t. She’s merely explaining her reasons. I reach for the phone to type another text. I’m rather speedy with the texting:

“I have deep psychological problems stemming from childhood trauma. I thought that was obvious. Maybe I should have reminded you. Being treated like some asshole who chose not to speak only to be difficult was grating. And insulting. I didn’t like the way you were acting toward Tytonidae. I didn’t like the way you went about it, about trying to get back in. I wasn’t honest with you simply because I was afraid you would make me choose. And finally you did. It was a vicious circle. Looking back, I could have acted differently. But at the time, the pressure was too much.”


<Phoenix> I went back to staring over the frozen lake while he typed out his reply. When my phone vibrated, I took another deep breath, hoping maybe that the icy air would somehow freeze me in place. Or freeze the stupid tears that wanted to skitter out and make a mess of the makeup I’d hastily tossed on. Fuckers. Despite the blinking, I managed to read the words he’d sent on my tiny little screen.

“No, that wasn’t obvious, but I knew it was always psychological. I never asked because I didn’t think it was my place. If you wanted to tell me, you would have. Just like if I wanted to tell you why I’m such a mess, I would have. But I didn’t. You didn’t. Here we are.” I shrug for a second, but this time the pause isn’t nearly as long. “I didn’t handle it right. As for how I went about wanting to get back in Ty, that was crazy on the bag-full-of-cats level. I wasn’t thinking straight… After Legion left, I snapped. I don’t even remember most of the **** I did for a month after that, but I know the general idea of what happened. I went absolutely psychotic and there’s no number of empty ‘I’m sorry’s that are going to make that go away.

After I left Ty, there were a lot of things that I could have done differently for this to have played out… better. But there were a lot of things you could have done differently, too. And if we’re going to try to mend things, we’re going to need to communicate instead of turtling.”

[Jesse Fforde]

--The following transcript was a live chat roleplay--

<Jesse Fforde> I nod, and am otherwise silent and still for a while. This meeting could have gone a whole lot differently. I hold a grudge. I don’t normally let grudges go. I might have appeared aloof and uncaring, the way that it had gone down between Phoenix and myself. I was pissed. Furious. But I have had time to think. In Tytonidae I have found a group of people who do respect me, and who treat me as an equal. They have helped me, and have asked for nothing in return. I have confided in Velveteen more times than I can count.

The progeny that I have, and those gathered underneath them, are all doing well. Aside from my own psychological ********, everything is fine. I have nothing and no one to complain about. I am comfortable. Whatever wounds that Phoenix may have inflicted have not lasted. And there’s no point holding a grudge when the affect are not lasting. There’s no point in holding a grudge for wounds that no longer exist. I finally concede:

“We can communicate, so long as I’m sure you’re not going to turn into that bag of cats again. I apologise for miscommunication in the past. Communication is not my strong point. I can forgive, and I can forget, to an extent. The **** you did, though – might be a while before I can fully trust. Only time can give you that.” I send the text, slightly apprehensive. Even the rare sight (I don’t think I’ve actually seen them before) of Phoenix’s barely contained tears cannot persuade trust from me. Not that easily. Because I know how she can be. And I expect some kind of backlash for brutal honesty.


<Phoenix> Whatever he expected in retaliation from the text, I don’t think he was going to get it – not from me. I wasn’t about to lash out. I wasn’t about to scream or sling insults or otherwise crawl right back into my cozy bag of cats. Ultimately, that psychosis had been the most harmful thing I’ve done to myself since dropping out of high school, and that one ranked pretty highly on my list of dumb **** I regret. I’m at a point now where I’ve sorted my issues and categorized my options and I know what I want. I may not know how to get it, exactly, but I know what won’t help. I know what will hinder. And most of all, I know exactly what costs me nothing, but reaps benefits in masses: kindness and patience.

So I nodded at the text – smile, even. “I’m not blaming you at all, but we both know I kind of ramble and don’t shut up. If I never shut up and you never tell me to, we’re not going to get anywhere. And I’d like my family back. I never expected you to welcome me back into your life like a giddy schoolboy or trust me right away. That’s not something I deserve and I’m fully aware of exactly why.” I pause, meeting his eyes again before continuing. I’d considered how I wanted to word this for a while and finally, I’d settled for perfect neutrality. “I do want to rejoin Ty sooner rather than later, though. How do you feel about that?”


<Jesse Fforde> I don’t talk—whatever my nuisance of a wraith might tell me otherwise—and so if I don’t want to listen to rambling, I’ll simply get up and walk away. I rarely do that, however. There’s a benefit to this silence, thing. People do think, sometimes, that you’re all ears. That you’re willing to listen to everything, to all their woes, their life stories. Sometimes I’m not interested. Not in the least. But sometimes I sit through it anyway, because you never know what you can glean that might of use in the future.

Sometimes I do care, though, and this instance, at least, has piqued my interest, and the entirety of my curiosity. She asks how I might feel about her re-joining Tytonidae, and again I drop into inactivity as I ponder. Silence concerning Tytonidae is how we ended up where we are. I could tell her I’d prefer not to talk to her about Tytonidae, but I figure if she’s going to keep trying, it’s a pertinent topic. I finally shrug and type:

“Tytonidae is home to me. You threatened the stability of that home. I don’t know yet that you still won’t threaten it. You can try. But I’m certain that the majority of those in Tytonidae trust you less than the distance they could throw you. I can tell you Good Luck.”


<Phoenix> I watched him ponder with a smile playing over my lips. It wasn’t hard to figure what he was going to say before he typed it out, but when I got the response, it was far more vague than I’d anticipated. I frowned at the text. Surely he thought I was upset by it for a moment, but I was more… interested in how he’d worded his answer. Though I suppose I had a bit more insider information than he did on that front. Not that that mattered.
“That’s not what I asked, Jesse. The active majority of those in Tytonidae are mine to deal with and convince. But that’s not what I asked… Are you willing to give me a chance, on the Bridge, to show that I won’t threaten it? You. Not anyone else, just you.”


<Jesse Fforde> I think that perhaps that it should be obvious, how I would feel. That it should be common sense, given when I have said to her thus far. That I do not yet trust her, and that only time could earn that kind of trust back. I lick my lips and return my attention to the phone. I type out, succinctly, clearly:

“I’ve already said that only time can gain my trust, for you. Time, and proper action. I’m not going to sit here and tell you I’m going to make it easy on you. If you get to the bridge, I’m not going to react like some stubborn teenager and refuse to interact. I’ll test you, just like everyone else will. If Velveteen allows you on the bridge, I trust her judgment. The way I feel about it will be how I feel about everyone else on the bridge.”


<Phoenix> I nodded as I scanned the text message, glad he’d taken the initiative to actually spell it out. Even if he hadn’t thought it was necessary to clarify the subject, miscommunications of any sort weren’t necessary at this point - for either of us. I’d had enough to failed communication; I’d had enough of half-truths and flat out lies. Honesty really was the best policy. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I wasn’t angry; I just wanted to remind myself that this was reality. While the air temperature didn’t bother me, I could tell it was cold as it filled my lungs. Cold and clear.

“I didn’t expect you to make it easy on me. I don’t expect a free pass from anyone, especially not you. All I’d like is a chance to try, and if you’re willing to give that, I’m very grateful.” I was about to say something else, then stopped myself. Not because it was negative, it just wasn’t necessary. I shook my head as if to clear it, and then continued. “Thank you for being honest with me.” And I meant it.


<Jesse Fforde> I give a slow nod. Yes, I think I’m willing to give her a try. Why not? No harm in it. I’d answered the way I did before because I have become so much a part of Tytonidae that I feel the web of support even though none of them are there. I know that Phoenix hurt a lot of them, not just me. Sure, on my own terms, as far as Altaire was concerned, I was on my own, and that was fine. I could be amiable with Phoenix. I could wait and see. I could hold her at arm’s length until I was certain she wasn’t going to pull some knife from some hidden place and slash me across the metaphorical chest with it. As far as her relation to Tytonidae is concerned, however, I am not alone.

I am willing to tell her that I will give her a chance if she ends up on the bridge, because she has to get there, first. And even if she does, I know that I am not lying to her. I’ll give her chance, even there. Now it’s completely up to her to regain all the trust that she has lost. I’m not sure what else to say, or what else to do. I lapse into stillness. The smile is the only indication that I give that her gratitude is reciprocated.

<Phoenix> That’s that, then. I watched him for a moment until I realized he wasn’t going to reply, but that didn’t bother me. I’d said what I felt I needed to say, done what I felt I’d needed to do, so I was content to leave him be. For now. Maybe things would be different on down the line, but for now, that was all there was to it. I nodded and then carefully pushed myself to my feet.

“I’ll see you around, Jesse.”

It was a simple statement before I vanished, the pages of my tome carrying me back to the safety of my castle.


<Jesse Fforde> That's that, then. The important stuff out of the way, she doesn't enquire into anything else. And that's fine. It's a bit too heavy, a bit too awkward to fall, straight away, into an easy communication. That, too, would come with time. I'm not even sure she sees my salute as she disappears, leaving me alone in the park. I stretch out my legs and throw my arms over the back of the park bench, happy to just sit and think for a while.