Event: A Home Visit
| Location: Ersand'Enise
There were times when Jocasta liked to just... float.
High above the city, far from the reach of everyone down below.
Sometimes, she would watch it awaken.
Sometimes, she would watch it fall to slumber.
Up here, she was cold and alone, but she was safe.
It would be naught but a month. Then, she would be warm and joined, and safe.
She would share her husband's bed. She would...
Lying there upon her stomach upon the air, gazing down at the twinkling lanterns in windows, she did not know.
She did not know what it was to be a wife.
Yalen was a man, after all, even if he was a gentle one.
He would not be like...
A particularly cold gust caused her to draw her arms tight about herself.
There was no point in delaying. The invitations needed to be sent out.
It was a half hour later. The sun was peering over the skyline and Jocasta was back on solid ground, wheeling briskly down a hallway in the female merchant dormitory. It was not a route she was unfamiliar with. Zarina had stayed here during their first year, when both had been students, and Jocasta had been to her dorm often enough.
Now, however, she was here for a different quarry, and one she wasn't actually particularly keen on catching: Trypano.
Slowing down as she neared the hallway's end, Jocasta looked about. It was the last one on the left.
Or was it?
Maybe it was the last one on the right.
In any case, this was a matter of obligation. Trypano was in her apprentice group. Trypano and her had an agreement of sorts.
Trypano was about as social as a bric
Surely, were it not for the obligations they both held, her under-classmen would have been far happier in her secret lair in the catacombs.
Jocasta went with the door on the left. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face it, retrieved the letter from her bag, and let it out in a long, tension-relieved sigh. She knocked.
Maura was in her room after she spent the night, engrossed in her work, diligently dealing with paperwork. Her hands were still smudged with ink as she navigated through a particularly challenging problem late at night. Amidst the warmth of the morning sun rising in the distance, a knock echoed at the door. Initially she was planning to ignore it, she sighed and instructed the wheel throne to guide her toward the doorway as she wrapped a blanket around her. With a deliberate motion, she opened the door.
To her surprise, Jocasta sat on the other side, clutching what seemed to be an invitation. Maura paused for a moment, then composed herself with a polite smile.
"Ah, Tan-Zeno Re, how may we help you this morning?" Her eyes flicked toward the document in Jocasta's hand, attempting to decipher its nature. She silently prayed that it wasn't related to any transfer papers for her Zeno-group.
Jocasta's neck was pre-emptively craned upwards in anticipation of the usual pain that accompanied speaking with Trypano. Instead, she found nothing there. She lowered her gaze... and her expectations.
"Oh, Maura. Sorry to disturb you!" She grimaced, but there was actually a degree of relief.
"It's practically still Ipte. I was looking for Trypano, who's always up at this ungodly hour." She rolled her eyes and offered up a knowing smile. It was... actually kind of nice to be able to look someone eye to eye in conversation.
Jocasta arched an eyebrow, suddenly annoyed.
"You're at the end of the corridor, and your expression is saying more or less the same thing, you know." She sighed after a moment.
"It's the wedding invitations, alright?" The tethered reached back into her bag. There was a brief flash of magic.
"I was going to wait until some later hour but, since I've already woken you, this one's yours!" She smiled good-naturedly.
"I... I hope you can make it," she stammered.
"I know Ayla would be thrilled." Jocasta blinked and scratched sheepishly at the back of her head.
"I uh... know we haven't always gotten along so well, but so would I."Maura frowned as Jocasta began to retort and sat, politely listening. When handed the invitation, she displayed a wide, surprised smile, audibly gasping.
"We didn’t realize it was the first of Victendes already!" she said gleefully.
Her expression relaxed, and she raised an eyebrow at Jocasta, visually conveying 'Really?' with her facial expression.
"You don’t need to contrive an excuse as a cover for your error, Tan-Zeno Re. Even the great Jocasta is allowed to make a mistake here and there."Maura offered the wedding invitation back with a sigh,
“If you sincerely want to get along, then drop the act. You are stronger, richer, talented, more experienced, and congratulations on getting married. What you have achieved is great, and you have no need for... whatever you call this.” She gestured to the performance Jocasta had put on.
"We’ll send a bottle of Licor Salbeirão for your big day."Jocasta was somewhat surprised by the response, but not unpleasantly so.
"Well, finally, she just says what she's thinking," the Tan-Zeno replied with a slow, repeated nod.
"She lets it out. Gods I can't tell you how good that is for the soul." She placed the envelope back on her lap.
"Oh, and I fuck up plenty," Jocasta admitted, pushing forward a bit and sighing.
"If I didn't, I might actually have... real friends." She swallowed, hands sitting light and nervous on her wheels.
"I wouldn't... care when people judge me," she continued. She could see, on some level, how Maura was... hurt. How, despite her intelligence and precociousness, she was
young. There were
five years between them, and the entire antipathy she held towards this girl started to melt away and feel stupid.
"I was fucking with you, but... then, I don't know. It was genuine after that." She shook her head.
"Maura, you don't know me and you judge me." She shrugged.
"I don't know you and I judge you." She took up the envelope again and held it out.
"But we both know Ayla and she saw a friend in both of us, alright?" She sighed.
"That's gotta be worth something." She took a moment to adjust one of her feet. With all the turning about, it had come off of her wheelchair's footrest.
"And, you know, we both see the world from the same angle most of the time." She let out a snort.
"We both have to look up bipeds' noses whenever we talk." She swallowed nervously. It all began to seem so pigheaded: the way they'd always been with each other, ever since an awkward first meeting.
"Look: we don't have to be best friends, but we should at least be real with each other. I mean... half of it: this act you see me put on, it's because I became the mask. For as long as I knew, until I actually just came out and used my Gods-given power, do you think a fucking soul on Sagand took me seriously?" She let out a long sigh.
"So take it, Maura, please. It's not a trick. I'm not laughing at you. I'm not belittling you. It's a peace offering, because that's long overdue."Maura continued to sit quietly as Jocasta seemed to be having an epiphany moment on her doorstep, during the hours of Ipte, no less. She let the blonde express herself as she accepted the wedding invitation again.
“Do you want to come inside, or has Yalen got you enrolled in the Red Rezaindian’s?” She smiled cheekily toward Jocasta as she moved backward, making room and inviting the blonde inside.
“Would you like a coffee? We’ll stick in the arsenic just for you.” The tone was clearly tongue-in-cheek, aimed to break the uncomfortable tension, as she moved to boil the water, allowing the other to make themselves comfortable. Then she came through with the tray on her lap, placing it on the table between them. She also took the opportunity to freshen up her appearance and get rid of the ink smudges.
“If you don’t let people see the real you, then how can you expect them to be your real friends?” She poured the cups, which were clearly absent of anything remotely dangerous other than a dose of addictive caffeine and a suspicious-looking container that threatened to contain spratz in it.
“Warts and all, as the saying goes. Pay lip service where it is due, network where you can, and create genuine friendships when the opportunity arises.” She parted with some advice from her own play book.
When it came to the matter of them, there was a formal politeness about it.
“We probably know you pretty well to judge,” Unable to resist a playful tone completely,
“but we are not Dami, and you are clearly trying to get my attention. You have it, and we are listening.” She took a drink from her cup, and smiled sweetly toward her.
“What would you truly want from me; approval, validation, a favour, or are you wanting to build a real friendship?”It was just for a moment, but Maura's little quip landed in a way it almost certainly wasn't meant to. Mid-push, Jocasta froze in place, palms skidding against her wheels. Her heart beat a tiny bit faster. Maura couldn't have been involved in... She couldn't have known. She couldn't have...
"I'll take sugar instead of spratz if you don't mind," she replied.
"Hold the arsenic. Had enough of that lately."Then, with the best of intentions, Maura went on to give a speech about how to win friends, make money, and succeed in campus life. It was Jocasta's fault. She'd made a needlessly self-indulgent comment about not making friends earlier but, in truth, she'd rarely had trouble doing so. She was, for the most part, a good talker, or at least she had been.
Then had come Yalen. Then had come Ayla, and Zarina, and Marceline, and Kaspar and... after it all, she was still a tool, because then had come the academy. Then had come the Dieci Volti Nascosti once more, and the offers from Volto Nero and Volto Argento that she couldn't refuse. They were, in a sense, no different from Zenith Upta and Arch-Zeno Harrachora. She accepted the tea with a thank you, checking it for any unexpected substances and cleansing it just the same with her chemical magic. Never again would she show that sort of weakness; that sort of stupidity. It had almost cost her everything.
"Here is the thing... I cannot be entirely truthful with you." She grimaced even as she said it.
"In some ways, being what I am - this thing of monstrous capacity - defines my life. I do not want it to, but it does because others say that it does. I may try to hide it and then I am a poor girl with useless legs, to be pitied, perhaps even humoured, and then pushed aside. Never respected, never listened to, rarely seen but by a handful of close companions." She paused, taking a sip of the drink. It was a Palaparese blend, from Zenobucks. She set if back down.
"You know... I may just know you pretty well enough to judge as well." She smiled faintly.
"And I think this is a pain that you also know something of." She shook her head with a tight smile.
"My point is this: if I live as myself - as my true self - and I don't hide, my very existence is a problem or an opportunity for others that they will feel they cannot ignore. As with the late great paradigm, I do not have the option of going unnoticed or un-harassed. I must either join my fortune to others of great power in loyalty or become so powerful myself that even the many cannot destroy me."She frowned.
"If ever I have struck you as self-serving or callous, this is the underlying reason." She wrung her hands for a moment.
"I do have friends, in a sense, though we can never completely know each other's worlds, though they may never truly understand me, or I them. Yet, the mere act of knowing me puts them in danger. If something were to happen to one of them..." She trailed off for a moment.
"If one were to be hurt by some external force on my account -" The mere thought caused something to sit, heavy and awkward, atop her stomach. She shook her head.
"Well," Jocasta joked, trying to lighten the mood,
"Perhaps that's why I have asked you to be my friend." She managed a small smile and winked as she lifted the coffee to her lips and sipped. She did not wish to speak any more of herself. She had resolved to know something more of the girl who sat across from her, but she realized that perhaps her words demanded some form of response first and she would not deny Maura that opportunity as, perhaps, others sometimes did.
Maura rolled her eyes after Jocasta’s comment about the arsenic,
“Don’t tell me you have been going for that bright-eyed and translucent look as well; you are more than pretty enough without it. The lengths some go to for a man’s affection.” She tutted at the actions of some of their classmates.
She continued to listen to Jocasta as the words spilled out, interjecting a little here and there.
“Well, we don’t really want to know about the pimple on your bottom, Jo. Over-sharing is a thing as well.” She smiled, making light of the heavier words,
“but being truthful comes down to self-respect, and that is super important. One little lie here and there may not matter much, but if you are regularly lying, then you begin to stop loving yourself. After all, does that mean you are the sum of your lies, a lie yourself, the feeling of being an imposter? By being truthful, we own who we are, being our authentic self.” She wagged her finger for a moment,
“Though that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t lie, as sometimes it is very appropriate to do it for good reasons. It means understanding the decision in choosing to lie in that circumstance.”“And now you are comparing yourself to Hugo the Great; this is the humble woman we know.” Her tone was teasing, as she couldn’t resist the temptation not to comment on that.
“One thing about Hugo is that he didn’t care about what others thought. He did what he did, even if some hated him for it, while others loved him. You are never going to please everyone, so at least make sure you are at peace with yourself with the decisions you make. Treat yourself with respect, then others will come to respect you too. If they don’t, there is a reason you are comparing yourself to Hugo.” She gave a wink.
“We are still waiting for you to come tottering up with a bunch of rifles under your arms and giving Desmond a run for his money; don’t disappoint me now by suggesting that is you being self-serving.” She recalled the surprise as she saw Jocasta swiping the guns in ReTan, though with the latter comment about Jocasta wishing she was her friend.
“Though speaking of ReTan, we do vaguely recall Wu Long muttering something along the lines of ‘May you all live in interesting times’ when we left the palace…” She stroked her chin for a moment, then shrugged.
“Besides, if they come for me, we’ll use our puppets, probably.”She rested her hands on her coffee cup,
“Though we are not a sycophant, nor have any interest in you being one either. If you are willing to be truthful with me, within reason, we would do so likewise, and perhaps you never know, we can be rolling sisters from different misters.”This, at its root, was why Jocasta was not particularly fond of Maura. Just like her at times, the Torragonese loved the sound of her own voice. She loved to be the clever, witty one in the room. Unlike Jocasta, however, she loved dispensing her own brand of wisdom. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't get enough of being ever the one who knows.
Good advice, mini-me, the tethered thought with an eye roll that was strictly internal,
and it honestly is, in any other circumstance, but my entire point is that this involved a few more moving parts than my personal need to love myself and be genuine. Jocasta could be as authentic as she wanted, and she
was with a very select group. If it got her killed, however, it wasn't of much use. She'd rather live to fight another day. She'd
always rather live. It meant she could try again. It meant she could beat them this time, and she just might be more than a victim.
Rolling right up to Volto Argento and telling him to shove it might've been cathartic in the short term but, in the long term, it might mean Yalen, Zarina, Ayla, or Marci dead. It might mean her poisoned again. Someone had tried to murder her not even a week ago. Then a knower had tried on top of it. If ever there was proof that she simply could not be normal, that she could not let her guard down, there it was.
And you just don't understand that, she thought, as Maura made another quip.
Really, how could I expect that of you? She sipped some more tea. There had been a group of them - a fluctuating group - at Ersand'Enise, who'd found themselves involved in a dozen different perils. Sure, Maura had been part of it for the past few months, at least, but she was still, fundamentally, a normal, emotionally healthy girl. Jocasta was sure that she had her insecurities and her issues, but whenever gentle feelers had been held out, she'd gone off in another direction. The nasty part of her wanted to push that much more. The better part understood that it was a boundary.
She sighed.
"Yes, we shall, though I expect sisters bicker from time to time." She managed a smile.
"I have too much fun tugging your tail anyway." The smile grew into a grin, which she hid behind her cup.
"I shall also look myself in the mirror every morning and say one self-affirming thing," she promised with a wry grin, placing the empty cup back on its saucer. This, she floated back onto the table. Then, she furrowed her brow.
"Please don't take it as too forward of me," she began,
"But I am ever so curious as to why you refer to yourself in a partial royal 'we'." She sniffed and took a moment to fix a rumple in her dress.
"I've noticed that Ayla does it as well."Maura smiled warmly,
“Always wanted an older sister.” She softly nodded as she took a sip of her coffee, allowing the sweet moment to sink in.
“Now, we are able to relate with Ayla in saying how awful they are.” The sting of her tease added a playful element to the comment.
She did an eye-roll at the self-affirming thing every moment,
“My point was…” she paused, considering the best way to explain,
“It is like those church-sponsored carnival freaks; their name is Memento Mori.” She swirled the cup in her hands, mulling over the wording,
“But the biggest shame would be to die without ever truly living. So we make sure to say ‘screw you’ to the world and push myself out there, rather than be locked away in some cupboard, out of sight, out of mind.”Maura simply smiled at the question,
“Oh, it is just a habit by this point. Imagine being stuck to Ayla for so long; you just start doing it in amusement, a joke here and there. Start acting like the noble Torragonese girl, speaking with some authority. Then you notice the reactions of others, and you begin doing it to amuse yourself at their expense. Before long, 'we' is all that remains.”Jocasta had no idea why Maura was going on about some churches team. They were likely just further creeps who'd wish her dead, but she sat through it. At the end of the day, Maura's conclusions seemed not too different from hers. It was just a tall and perilous mountain to climb to become strong enough that she could do it without endangering herself and her few loved ones. Still, it was heartening to know that, even with limited perspective, someone else whose opinion she respected was encouraging these things.
When Maura answered her closing question, Jocasta smiled.
"Ah! So you, too, have become the mask!" She released her brakes and rolled a push or two around the coffee table.
"Checkmate!" She floated her cup and saucer over to the wash basin with some kinetic magic and let herself coast another foot or two, until they were close.
"I'm happy we did this, even at this red-eye hour." She reached out for a light embrace.
"I find the best thoughts tend to come in the morning or right before one falls asleep, and I was just dying to share them with you." She winked.
Maura blinked, then smiled, accepting the hug offered by the blonde.
“Though no dying on me just yet; we've got to finish showing how amazing we are first.” She pulled Jo into a tighter embrace than what the other intended, getting rid of the formality of the others’ gesture as she gave her a heartfelt squeeze.
“Perhaps when they threaten to put me in your Zeno group again, we wouldn’t reject it so hastily next time.”It was somewhat unexpected, though not entirely. Jocasta hugged back. She'd... gotten better at hugging over the past year. It no longer made her tense up, and Maura was small and soft in any event. She smiled as they separated.
"Neither would we," she replied.
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