Mothers are complicated beings

Posted on Wed Dec 4th, 2024 @ 11:08 by Alastair Temple & Liana Zhao
Edited on on Thu Dec 5th, 2024 @ 0:21

Chapter: Besieged
Location: Al's bedroom, Avalon Institute
Timeline: Evening of Wednesday, 3rd Feb
3505 words - 7 OF Standard Post Measure

It was unusual that a place as vast as Avalon could feel suffocating.

Even the most adventurous of the students usually took a full year to scope out the majority of the castle's nooks and crannies and, even then, it seemed possible to graduate never quite having uncovered everything. Despite having been there since the school's inception, Liana was still inclined to get a little turned around once in a while, and so she knew the current sensation of being trapped between gradually closing walls was more a psychological reaction to stress than an actual concern. The scramble of a dozen thoughts trying to monopolise priority made for a crowded schedule, and as they all held their breath waiting for the inevitable hammer to fall, there was the constant pressure to be prepared interspersed with daily routines to ensure very minimal down-time. Struggling to avoid hypocrisy, Liana knew a good night's sleep would be her best ally come morning and had eventually torn herself away from her desk with the understanding that exhaustion wasn't going to help anyone, but removing herself from the physical reality of her work didn't go a long way from detaching herself mentally from it. Even as the hot water from an evening's shower had pummelled against her damp skull, the temptation to make mental lists and then reorder them became a monotony she couldn't escape. By the time she'd dried her hair, Liana had found herself slipping into pyjamas and a robe that could be trusted to withstand the night's cold and disappearing to the teacher's lounge with a portion of her personal stash of pre-packaged noodles. If sleep was going to be so elusive, she'd find another way to be productive.

In part, she'd already arrived at a decision before she left her bedroom, if the amount of food she took with her was any indication. Still, it took the preparation and momentary fixation on trying to determine who she'd actually spoken to throughout the day for Liana to commit to the risk of setting a precedent by seeking Alastair out. She had missed him at breakfast, which was unusual these days, and had been late enough to dinner that most of the faculty were already done eating. She wouldn't have thought much of his absence but for Valjean's tut tut accusation that the pair of them were skipping meals. She hadn't read too much into it then and only used it now as a flimsy excuse to show up unannounced. If pressed for a proper explanation, Liana would have simply shared her belief that she'd sleep better for seeing him. And so she arrived, two steaming bowls in hand, which left only her elbow to beat gently against his door in the hope he was still awake.

At first there was no reply. Not even a hint that he was in there, other than the light shining through a crack. There wasn't even music playing; which was very rare as well. It meant that he was either asleep, working on his own project, or not there. Even a second knock didn't yield a result. It wasn't until Liana had all but given up hope and was about to turn around to head back to her own room, was there a sign of life from beyond Al's door. Some shuffling at first, then a yelp, followed by a loud thud, which in turn heralded a colorful string of creative expletives. A moment later did the music teacher open his door, rubbing the back of his head, his hair a mess, a pained grimace on his features. Behind him his chair was resting on the ground, his desk low key messy. "Oh - hi. Erm - ... Yes. Hi. Come in. Oooh, yes, thank you, I'll - take that," as he stepped back and took one cup noodle from her.

Whatever she'd expected, it was clear from Liana's momentarily stunned expression that this version of Alastair Temple was not it. The disarray was one thing, the lack of eloquence another entirely. In the span of several seconds, she found herself re-evaluating whether or not disturbing him had been for the best and stepped inside the room as invited only because the food in her hand had unfrozen her hands enough to now be uncomfortably warm to hold for too long. Without so much as a word of retaliatory greeting, Liana moved past the room's occupant and set the remaining cup of noodles down on the desk. It was only then, whilst rubbing the pads of her fingers against the palm of the opposite hand, that she turned to properly evaluate her friend's appearance. He wore 'dishevelled' well, but such admiration was short-lived, it being more of a concern to find him in such a state at all given the understanding that he had been missing from communal spaces for a number of hours. The gentle arch of her eyebrows questioned without imposing. "Valjean mentioned you possibly hadn't eaten. This was the best I could manage."

"Yeah. I, uh ... Fell asleep," Al answered sheepishly. "And then I fell off my chair," He considered for a moment how to pick said chair up again, without risking making a mess with the noodle cup in his other hand. Careful did the job though, and then the chair used to its fullest potential once more, fulfilling its primary purpose of supporting someone's butt and back. "Oooh. This does an Al good," he smiled at Li, indicating the meal she had brought him. Smile fading again as he heaved a sigh, allowing his inner emotional turmoil to come out. "So ... I got an invitation from my mom a few days ago, from before all this - mess with the blockade. She wanted to see me in New Cresthill, on neutral ground. To talk. So I went. And we did."

It was quite the revelation given that Liana had yet to properly orient herself. Hovering by the desk in deep negotiation with her food regarding its willingness to stop burning her fingers, she had well-and-truly transitioned into the privacy of the bedroom but the brunette's preoccupation with establishing the immediate situation hadn't left her very prepared for Alastair's willingness to discuss what was undoubtedly the reason for his lower profile throughout the day. Her attention jerked upwards, any attempt to pick up the bowl abandoned for a moment as she took a moment to process his announcement and then situated herself in a better place mentally to offer support. The past few days had drawn significantly on her ability to compartmentalise so efficiently. "That's a big step. I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it."

"Yeah. I need to get my thoughts in order a bit more before I do, so - make yourself comfortable," he offered with a distracted smile, blowing on his noodles, carefully holding the cup by the rim as not to burn his fingertips. "How are you holding up? All this - everything that's going on, it's very stressful, I imagine. Are you getting enough sleep?" A good night's rest was the basis upon which everything else hinged, he knew. Stress often came with a lack of, or at least irregular, sleep, which affected ones ability to handle big, important issues. He didn't envy her the weight on her shoulders, knowing she was basically running the entire institute - at least temporarily - but without knowing how long it would be necessary.

Such was her scrutiny of the tension behind his eyes that Liana didn't immediately switch gears as the conversation deflected back to her own situation. In truth, though the last conversation they'd had under similar circumstances had exposed her uncertainty, the counsellor-cum-headmistress had emerged on the other side of fresh resolve more-or-less composed enough to simply get the job done. Her hesitation was only a matter of several seconds long but it was enough to add sincerity to her concern before she consented to the switch in topic. "That's depends on your definition of 'enough'," she pointed out wryly, backing into the nearest chair and then attempting once again to reach for her food. "I haven't started hallucinating yet, as far as I can tell." Acknowledging that the reply was more deflection than her current company deserved, Liana offered a smile that didn't reach her eyes and quietly added, "We're as prepared as we can be without knowing how far they'll push things."

"'Enough' is when you're not going 'I wish I'd gotten more sleep' around late afternoon, early evening," Al chuckled, though without much humor. He then set his noodles on his desk for a moment to give a great big stretch and matching yawn, trying to find a semblance of awake, trying to get his brain firing. "I wish I'd gotten more sleep," he added, now with a slight wry, self aware sense of humor to his tone. Her words stuck with him though, as he reached for his noodles again. They were still hot, he could feel through the cup, so he used the cup to warm his hands for a few moments as they cooled some more. "Without knowing how far they'll push things. Well, we can assume they're not above arresting people. And we know they're - ... hesitant to trespass on private property, being the castle grounds. Way I figure is they're going to try to siege us. Means we'll need food, if we want to last. They might cut off our power. Do we have backup generators?"

Liana nodded over an attempted mouthful of steaming noodles. Taking a moment to delicately manage the strands of pasta, she paused to add, "We made sure to install those when we first started renovating." Those months before the first intake of students seemed a decade ago rather than just a few short years. "Of course, back then it was a precaution against the weather more than anything." After a moment's pause to consider the drastic change in circumstance, Liana then took another mouthful and sat a moment in her own thoughts. In many ways, there were certain details from the day's preparations that sat uncomfortably as secrets in Alastair's company. Whilst Claire's plans were her own and her intentions around informing her staff deserved the courtesy of non-interference, the burden of confidence sat heavily when it was the music teacher Liana couldn't completely open up to. To stave off the vexation, she allowed her gaze to settle on him and once again, took a pause between mouthfuls to speak. "We're well-supplied for now. Time will tell how willing they are to make an example out of children."

"That's good to hear. Hopefully we won't have to find out just how long we'll last under siege," Al replied with a sigh. He contemplated his noodles for a moment longer before digging in as well. Simple food, but honest. It suited him, as a simple man - or at least, that was how he saw himself. "I mean, I can go in and out at will, just fly over the blockade. But I can't carry supplies in raven form. Messages, at most. Maybe a loaf of bread. But that's it," he mused, that warm baritone of his rumbling.

"At least it wouldn't be burnt toast by the time you got it here." The smile on Liana's face at the speculation about her own limitations was tired but genuine, the ability to joke at all a welcome reprieve after the day's work. "I'm hoping it won't come to that. Part of me still wants to believe that there is good enough left in all of this for them not to starve children just to save face. Valjean seems confident he can manage for at least a couple of weeks, and we spent some time today speculating on putting everyone into the gymnasium to sleep if preserving power becomes an issue."

A day spent creating worst-case contingencies explained the normally-optimistic counsellor's weariness, as much an emotional strain as a physical lack of adequate sleep. Liana dug around in her noodles for a moment, cooling each mouthful before taking her time to savour the slight burn of authentic seasoning. Under different circumstances, she might have tried to change the topic to something more pleasant, an opportunity for both of them to indulge in mutual interests and escape the impending escalation of tension, but she wanted to leave room for him to talk about the developments in his personal life now that she'd woken him from an obvious attempt to process via sleep. Liana glanced up, her gaze alternating several times before it became obvious that she was attempting to read him. Without intruding, she opted for a more flippant segue. "I have plenty of emotional-support noodles left, though, so we'll be fine in that regard." This time, the warmth of her smile actually reached her eyes.

The invitation only half spoken, but to people who understood each other, seemed so attuned to each other as Alastair and Liana, a half spoken thought was often enough. His expression fell slightly, not in a bad way, but to indicate all pretense of humor or making light of things had gone and the only thoughts on his mind were serious ones. Another mouthful of noodles thoughtfully consumed before he spoke. "So, twenty four odd years ago, when my powers first manifested, my parents - though, admittedly, mostly my father echoing the words of our pastor - called me Hellspawn. Satan's agent. Demon child. Kicked me out, with barely the clothes on my back," The words hung in the air with the expectation of more, even though his eyes didn't quite meet hers as he quietly spoke.

Another bite of noodles, blown on to cool them a bit before eaten. "I survived off the land, spent weeks - months in bird form, eating berries, rodents. Until I met Robert. Little Bobbie McIntyre. Befriended him. At least he didn't shun me, thought it was 'wicked cool'," he emphasized with fingerquotes "- that I could turn into a bird. He helped me catch up with school work by reading his homework and his books. Taught me how to play the guitar. I borrowed an old acoustic from him and spent summer busking, making a quid, you know. He taught me my love for music," Al now actually smiled as he told his story, and his eyes met hers, his smile becoming more honest, more heartfelt, as it did.

"Then, a few - ... days? A bit over a week ago - time is a weird soup - I get a letter, from my mother. Saying she saw me on TV, that she wanted to speak, and asked to meet in a neutral, public space - that being the Blue Door Inn, in New Cresthill. So, I flew over and met her. And we spoke. Not long - there's still a lot of hurt there," he admitted, studying his noodles again rather than look at his conversational partner. "Turns out my dad died. I - ... told her that I didn't feel the same level of grief that she was. She told me she was very sorry for what happened, that she knows she should've spoken up for me when it happened, and that - ... Well, that she wants to be part of my life again. And me part of hers."

Another slight pause, this time to stir his noodles with his spoon, though in the cup it remained, before he continued. "She - ... My parents were very old fashioned, Christian values, you know. The man is the head of the household, the wife does as is told, stands by her man, things like that," He sighed. "And I think that her sense of - ... guilt, of regret, is genuine. I told her that, maybe, she can be part of my life again. But that it would take time and hard work to get there. And I told her to come visit the castle some time, when this whole thing - " he motioned in the general direction of the blockade outside. " - has blown over."

There had come a point, partway through Alastair's retelling, where the pauses between Liana's mouthfuls had elongated to such an extent that she had basically stopped eating. As much as professional etiquette had honed the ability to divert her entire attention to personal disclosures, her training had only enhanced a natural tendency and it was also fair to say that the nature of present company had left the psychiatrist with additional investment. As all her effort went into studying the man between the lines of his recount, Liana lowered the remains of her pot of noodles to rest against her leg and didn't take her eyes off him, even after he'd finished speaking. It was...a lot. The timing only increased the impact and even as her brow creased slightly with concern, Liana couldn't help but feel admiration for her friend's ability to phrase such an emotionally complex situation in such reasonable terms. Abandonment was a huge issue amongst mutants and Alastair's story was one of the more extreme she'd heard. Certainly, she'd never encountered anyone forced to live transformed for so long just to survive.

"Wow," she finally broke the silence once she realised it was becoming quite protracted. "That's quite a lot to process." Here, the brunette's brow crumpled under the temptation to convey her concern. "Especially under the circumstances. Is there anything I can do?"

"There is, actually," Al offered, a soft almost-smile on goth features, as he took another bite of noodles, formulating words. "It's very important, so listen carefully. What you can do for me is, don't worry about me," he paused a moment to let the words sink in. "By all means, sympathize. Bring me noodles if I miss dinner," he held up the now nearly empty cup of noodles as if to emphasize, "and I do rather appreciate and enjoy the company, but don't worry about me. I'll be alright, promise. And you have enough on your mind as is."

A soft huff of laughter didn't last but conveyed, at least, a begrudging acknowledgement of the accuracy of the inherent accusation. Liana would have struggled to find a moment in the past week that hadn't been suffused with excessive fretfulness; by this stage, it felt like a normal default. "I'm not worried about you, Alastair." Even as she spoke the reassurance, Liana realized it was quite truthful, at least from a certain point of view. "That would suggest I don't think you capable of working through this and that's certainly not true. I do empathize, however, quite strongly. Mothers are complicated beings." Her half-smile was the only reference the brunette made to her own experiences in that regard. "And perhaps my heart hurts a little for the young boy left to fend for himself." Her smiled, now rueful, left her dark eyes slightly saddened. "I think Young Liana would have found him quite a comfort." As she paused, Liana allowed her gaze to linger on the slightly-rumpled features of a now-older Alastair Temple and she added gently, "I know Slightly-Aged and Slowly-Turning-Grey Liana certainly does."

Al didn't quite know what to say, so he said nothing. Words weren't quite necessary, he felt, and could only detract from the moment. Instead he smiled a soft, honest, warm smile and reached out to rest a hand on hers, squeezing softly and letting his hand linger for a while. He'd made this gesture before, but always just for a moment. A moment to stifle a yawn, still feeling exhausted after the day's events. Teaching, before a physically taxing trip with an emotionally taxing purpose.

"Thank you," he eventually offered, his voice soft. "For being you. For enriching my life. For making the Institute - and the world - a better place."

Hardly prone to embarrassment, there was still a brief lapse in composure that resulted in a faint flush as Liana smothered her downwards glance behind a soft laugh. "That last might be a bit of a stretch." It went without saying that there had been several times since her mutation had manifested where Liana wondered if there was really any value to her powers. A deep and abiding sense of dissatisfaction that her transformation was so destructive in nature had been influential in her career diversion, certainly, and definitely shaped her personal drive. Unlike some of her colleagues, using her powers wasn't likely to result in helping anyone, and so Liana had instead focused on what Liana the Scholar could bring to the table. "And only time will tell if the Institute will thank me for these coming weeks." She exhaled then, not one to hide her manners behind modesty. "But thank you." Turning her hand beneath his, she gave him a squeeze in return. "I'm glad you're here."