Post by Bee on Jan 5, 2008 4:53:45 GMT -5
So, a while back Ku-chan and I had a very long chat in which I managed to finally flesh out some of Mnem's backstory. It turned out to kind of not be pretty. The end feels a little incomplete, but...yeah. Be gentle; my ego is tender.
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Her father brought her toys, when he came home, which was not often. He would sneak in through the back door of their opulent Gardens home, prize in hand, and he would tug on a seemingly useless bit of string hanging by the door. The wind chimes near Mnem’s bed would ring, softly, sweetly, and she would wake with excited eyes and impatience. Going quietly down the long hallways was always a challenge, but she managed.
Oisin was a Highlands canine who had attainted a bipedal form some years ago, and put it to best use scooping Mnem up and tossing her into the air. She suppressed a squeal of delight. He never told her where he went, or why he had to go, but she always looked forward to his coming back, and she was so happy to see him that she never asked.
“I have something for you,” he told her, setting her down and handing over the presents. Fine dolls with delicately painted faces, a tea set, dresses that were far too large for her. “You can wear them when you become human, darling. Blue is perfect for you. Now tell Daddy what you’ve been up to.”
Elatedly, proudly, Mnem said, “Lilah from down the road pushed me so I put blue bindweed in her cupcakes and she puked and shook and I asked her if she was sorry and she said yes and then she cried.”
His face was tight with worry. “Don’t do that, Mnemosyne. It’s not ladylike. Did your—” He had difficultly getting the words out, and looked around as though for a ghost. “Did your mother find out?”
“No,” Mnem said, quietly. She looked at him carefully. “You won’t tell her, will you?”
He smiled, relieved, and patted her head. “No. Just don’t do it again. Play with your dolls, and be a good girl. Be sweet. You can do that. No—no poisoning people. I’ll be back—”
“Mnemosyne!” Terra’s clipped tones, from up the staircase, around the corner. Oisin’s face went pale, and he backed off towards the door.
“Daddy,” she said, alarmed. “Don’t leave me alone with—”
But he was gone, disappearing into the night, leaving her standing in a pile of clothes and dolls and porcelain, staring at her mother’s enraged face. Mnem didn’t have time to take a step back; Terra was there a second later, hauling her off the ground by the scruff of her neck.
“Did you let that bastard into the house?”
“No, I—”
She hit the ground a moment later, landing awkwardly on her back and rolling. Terra picked up one of the dolls, looking angrily from it to Mnem.
“He gave these to you, I assume?”
“He—” The doll hit the door and shattered. The other dolls went next, then the tea set, showering the floor in painted porcelain.
“Are you going to make a habit of letting those wretched cretins into the house, Mnemosyne? I’m told it starts early.” Her words had gone cold and sharp, a deadly knife-voice, and when Mnem opened her mouth to try to explain, she cut her off: “I’m not going to have a little slut running around my house. Go to your room, and stay there until I say you can come out. I have my party tomorrow, and I’m meeting a number of very important people. If you so much as hint at your existence, I will have you shipped to the Hisstor Wastes to choke on dust, and no one will miss you.”
__
Her father brought her toys, when he came home, which was not often. He would sneak in through the back door of their opulent Gardens home, prize in hand, and he would tug on a seemingly useless bit of string hanging by the door. The wind chimes near Mnem’s bed would ring, softly, sweetly, and she would wake with excited eyes and impatience. Going quietly down the long hallways was always a challenge, but she managed.
Oisin was a Highlands canine who had attainted a bipedal form some years ago, and put it to best use scooping Mnem up and tossing her into the air. She suppressed a squeal of delight. He never told her where he went, or why he had to go, but she always looked forward to his coming back, and she was so happy to see him that she never asked.
“I have something for you,” he told her, setting her down and handing over the presents. Fine dolls with delicately painted faces, a tea set, dresses that were far too large for her. “You can wear them when you become human, darling. Blue is perfect for you. Now tell Daddy what you’ve been up to.”
Elatedly, proudly, Mnem said, “Lilah from down the road pushed me so I put blue bindweed in her cupcakes and she puked and shook and I asked her if she was sorry and she said yes and then she cried.”
His face was tight with worry. “Don’t do that, Mnemosyne. It’s not ladylike. Did your—” He had difficultly getting the words out, and looked around as though for a ghost. “Did your mother find out?”
“No,” Mnem said, quietly. She looked at him carefully. “You won’t tell her, will you?”
He smiled, relieved, and patted her head. “No. Just don’t do it again. Play with your dolls, and be a good girl. Be sweet. You can do that. No—no poisoning people. I’ll be back—”
“Mnemosyne!” Terra’s clipped tones, from up the staircase, around the corner. Oisin’s face went pale, and he backed off towards the door.
“Daddy,” she said, alarmed. “Don’t leave me alone with—”
But he was gone, disappearing into the night, leaving her standing in a pile of clothes and dolls and porcelain, staring at her mother’s enraged face. Mnem didn’t have time to take a step back; Terra was there a second later, hauling her off the ground by the scruff of her neck.
“Did you let that bastard into the house?”
“No, I—”
She hit the ground a moment later, landing awkwardly on her back and rolling. Terra picked up one of the dolls, looking angrily from it to Mnem.
“He gave these to you, I assume?”
“He—” The doll hit the door and shattered. The other dolls went next, then the tea set, showering the floor in painted porcelain.
“Are you going to make a habit of letting those wretched cretins into the house, Mnemosyne? I’m told it starts early.” Her words had gone cold and sharp, a deadly knife-voice, and when Mnem opened her mouth to try to explain, she cut her off: “I’m not going to have a little slut running around my house. Go to your room, and stay there until I say you can come out. I have my party tomorrow, and I’m meeting a number of very important people. If you so much as hint at your existence, I will have you shipped to the Hisstor Wastes to choke on dust, and no one will miss you.”
