Re: [Not-a-picnic: Nel, Lear, Daddy]
Whatever Daddy's eyes showed, gentleness or not, it was a lie and Lear wasn't stupid enough to be deceived by anything offered on bland features. He rolled his eyes again when Leslie protested and claimed not to understand why they didn't believe him. It didn't really fucking matter to Lear what Daddy understood or didn't understand or what he wanted or didn't want. Or, it only mattered inasmuch as it included him and/or Fen and/or Nel. Otherwise, the shithead could fuck himself however the fuck got him off and it wouldn't change one iota of Lear's life as it was.
Nel spoke, reminding Loki that once a trickster always a trickster, and Lear puffed on his cigarette as the other man stood uselessly there by the tree. This was bullshit. Lear was tempted to say it again, just so they knew where he stood, but it wasn't worth the effort of drawing breath and vibrating across vocal chords. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, blinking slowly, his energy unspent in cooling muscles. "You always were an idiot," was Lear's response to Leslie saying he didn't know they 'ran in a pack anymore.' Whatever and wherever the triplets were on this planet or on any other plane, they were together, in flesh or spirit. "God." Lear let his head thunk back against the trunk of the apple tree. He looked up at the translucent bodies of the last few leaves, shriveled as they were now, long dead corpses clinging to lifeline. "This is so fucking boring." Breath shivered in the air with smoke. Fickle, Lear tipped his head to look at his sister and stood upright.
In his usual skulk, he walked around the tree Leslie was propped against, then he circled behind Nel. Idly, he perched his chin on her shoulder, that cut of red, and gazed coldly at Leslie. His curl around her wasn't like a pet. It wasn't submission as much as it wasn't possession. It was an equality that eluded the likes of Daddy over there. But, don't feel bad, Daddy, it eluded most humans too.