Peter Rumancek (lieasdreamswake) wrote in fableless, @ 2017-05-02 22:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log/thread, linda fields, simon fields |
WHO: Linda and Simon Fields
WHEN: May 2nd
WHERE: Home
SUMMARY: Talking about choices
WARNINGS: None
STATUS: Complete.
As promised and scheduled, Simon sat in the kitchen waiting for his mother to start the discussion on everything that was going on with him. The tired, not-so-adult knew that his decision to stop taking his potion medication was likely a bad idea. She did not need to tell him that his nonchalance over it had been a dangerous decision on his part. He saw that. Part of the symptoms that were commonly experienced when not being treated were hallucinations that only mixed up his brain with his tale abilities and turned a simple semi-coherent post into his friends and family worrying about him. He had been found safe sitting on the ground, leaning up against the back wall of the Wanderland building, Hermit guarding the boy as if it were some sort of Vorpal rabbit. By the time his mother had gotten there he was sleeping; his phone in his hand beeping with messages. Now, he cupped a mug of hot tea between his hands and stared into the steaming liquid lost in his own thoughts. Linda finished fixing up her own cup of tea, then sat across the table from him. She didn’t speak right away, finding it was good to let her son think things over. Besides, he was meant to be an adult now. She wasn’t responsible for him the way she had been in the past, even if he still lived in the house. He had to make his own choices. She started the conversation by asking, “How do you feel?” Blue eyes blinked up. “Tired… Like an idiot… the usual.” A mess of knotted hair fell into his face. Everyone could look at their scrolls and have a variety of reactions, Simon looked at his scroll and did not react to the memories held within in, he reacted to the truth of his nature- the inescapable essence of his being. He had never felt strongly against being the Dormouse- it had given him a friend for life in Nate- Simon had hoped that some sleep deprived narcoleptic mouse was not the end all of who he was. The scroll had told him differently and he assumed each scroll there was to have would reflect the same thing. It didn’t take much for Linda to recognize how Simon had lost hope. Mav had handled that differently, knowing he’d die every week. But that was easier to manage, in a way. Simon’s experience was trickier. “You don’t need to insult yourself,” Linda pointed out. “You made a choice and now you know where that choice had led you.” She took a sip of her drink, not taking her eyes off of her son. “So you have to make a decision about whether or not that’s what you want to continue to do.” “I’ve been on the potions so long I guess I didn’t realize how much worse it could be.” Comparing the two lives, Linda had been far more successful of staving off symptoms than any normal drug had been. Sure, there were hiccups and issues but things had never gotten as bad as they had been the last week since the effects had worn off. Hermit was working overtime to keep him from getting himself killed. “What do you think I should do?” He understood his mother’s stance that he was an adult, but he valued her opinion even still. Linda took another long sip of tea, trying to figure out how best to navigate that question while still making sure to take her brother’s advice since he had more of a true understanding of this than Linda ever could. “I think there’s something to be said for understanding this isn’t just you. It’s a problem every version of your Tale has had to deal with. But I don’t agree that learning that information should stop you from experimenting with remedies.” Linda leaned in closer. “This is your decision, Simon. It’s your life. If you don’t like how the potions make you feel then I don’t have a good argument for why you should stay on them. However, if that is the case, I would like to make an argument for tracking your whereabouts.” Bringing his cup up to his lips, Simon took a short sip, holding the cup there longer to feel the steam rolling off it. “I think the potions helped more than nothing. I agree with Uncle Mav too, that this is who we are and- you’re right- if I continue an actual tracker would be useful so that what happened wouldn’t happen again.” He paused, lowering his cup and tapping his fingers on the side. “Everyone has helped me for a long time. I just felt lost in it after the scroll. It told me that maybe I’m more like Uncle Mav and less it just being a strange coincidence of my Tale and I.” Above everything, above all memories, he wanted to make his family happy with him and did not want them worrying for him. He connected better with his mother than he did his father, even though he loved them both, and if she took that step to tell him what to do he would do it for her. It was why he mostly stayed out of any trouble that could get him arrested- mostly. “This exhaustion without the potions, the constant issues it brings… I feel more like the Dormouse, really, but without the strange safety of Wonderland,” he added with a scoff. Linda tried to read between the lines of what her son was saying and what he actually meant. A hard task, for any parent. Even those like Linda who felt close to both her children in different ways. “Is it the safety you want?” Her mind was already trying to think through the possibilities of what she could concoct from that. Simon shrugged. “I want to not feel at the whims of N.” In the long run, he hated saying Narcolepsy, and it was easier to use the medical abbreviation “I want to feel at the same level of control over my abilities as most others my age…” Sipping his tea, he paused. “It’s the control over myself I want- and it’s what I know I can’t have- It’s like Uncle Mav’s condition but less structured so I’ve been feeling more lost. So I guess… If you can make a potion happen that at least gives me warning as well as some symptom relief, I would take that…” The problem with reading between the lines with Simon’s wants were that they kept flip-flopping. He did not want to push his Tale away like others, but he also did not want to be controlled by it. Simon wanted to be Cheshire’s Dormouse but know what it was like to have some freedom from his episodes. Coming to the conclusion of what he wanted in a potion had been difficult to articulate until he realized what it was that he was missing from others. If all other incarnations of him had this and it was Tale based, he would never get rid of it, so all he wanted was some warning and no hallucinations. Linda nodded her head, pulling her notebook closer to her and taking notes about some ideas that came to her. “A warning would be something new that we haven’t tried before. It’s worth working on. Talia has been asking to help as well so I’ll at least pull her into it, if not some of the other Witches.” She looked back up at him after her initial thoughts had been jotted down, then placed a hand over his own. “I will never stop working to find what will work for you,” she promised. Simon nodded. “I know, mom. And I think Talia helping is awesome. The other witches… well.” As he had outted himself on the network, why did he care if other witches helped her out? Simon was sure none of his past selves would have had so much help from witches as he was having now, so he could only hope things worked out. “Thank you, mom.” |