Life in Plastic: silentio, silentio
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Episode Three: In which Tara gets some 'shrooms and Will gets an existential crisis.
or on tumblr
Um. Okay. I'm not really sure about how to do this, but Will's... busy, and he asked me to take care of it, so... here goes?
I guess today might have been a mistake - I mean, it seemed like a really good idea at the time. Will was all hyped after killing the spider, and he had been really handy during that, so I thought it would do him good to get some fresh air, and that he'd be nice to have along if something bad happened. Which, then something kind of did, but it wouldn't have if I'd had him stay home, so that was a not-good plan.
Everything seemed like it was fine at first; I explained that we had to go to the cemetery to get the ingredients for the spider-bomb, and he was fine with that. We were just going to have useful fun.
Once we were there, he was... actually kind of adorable. He wanted to explore, and when I said that I thought maybe we should find what we came for before we went around asking for trouble, he said, "Alas! that so young and fair a maiden should already have forgotten the small joys which make this oft-toilsome life worth living!" and that's... hard to argue with. I mean, he is Shakespeare. So we did climb on stuff for a while.
The weather started getting a little fitful, though -
- so I started us looking for the mushrooms. Good mushrooms, not the naughty kind.
And about then there started to be badness. I think I should have told him to keep climbing things; then maybe he wouldn't have noticed all the broken tombstones and everything. But he did notice, and he just sort of... wandered off looking at those, and got really quiet. I left him alone, because everyone needs that sometimes, right?
There really are a lot of stones there that are all defaced and broken, and some of them just get thrown in the woods. It's pretty sad. But I'm used to it, and he did just wake up... I don't know, I was thinking, "He's William Shakespeare, if anyone's equipped to handle death, it's him," and that wasn't fair, under the circumstances. But he was doing his thing and I just kept looking until I found the mushrooms. Which, again, not the drug kind.
After that, I said, "Okay, we can go," and then had to repeat it to get his attention. He nodded and kept looking at the ground the whole way. I took his arm and fended off the grass blades and steered him around the pebbles.
It was just when we got back that he started getting kind of snippy about everything and mooning over his magazine clipping of Morgan.
"I don't think it's really very healthy to be this fixated on a picture," I said. "There are fairy tales about it."
"Indeed," he said, "and there are other tales one might tell of those works one performs with herbs gathered from a grave, none of them healthful for one's immortal soul."
"Mushrooms aren't herbs," I said.
Then he started in on what exactly the spider-bomb had been made of, and what I needed the mushroom for, and brought up the s-word (Satan, not the other one).
I should have been able to handle it - I mean, if I can deal with an addict girlfriend and a troubled teenage sort-of daughter, I can deal with a superstitious middle-aged should-be genius, right? But that's the whole problem, isn't it. I never have done those things really. So. I got snippy back, and asked, "Well, what did you think a woman with a book called Spells needs with a mushroom from a cemetery for?"
Then he got all self-righteous, so I brought Morgan le Fay into it (but he had to have known she was a witch too) and he got defensive. Since he was losing the argument, he changed the subject entirely and said, "There is enough of darkness and secrets in this place without your adding to it! I demand to be told what is on that shelf, that you should be intent on keeping it from me."
So, I guess I was kind of bitter thinking about Willow and Dawn, and I just got his book down. I guess it would have been nicer to explain about me first - let him adjust to the idea on someone else, especially since at least he's a doll of a real person and that might make him feel better, comparatively speaking. Only I didn't.
He started at the beginning, and he's been reading for a while. I tried to apologize and offer to talk about it, but he just said that it would help if I'd take care of this for him, seeing as he's otherwise engaged.
I really hope I didn't mess this up. But, well, we'll get over it - we're all we've got.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Life in Plastic Masterlist
Fanfic Masterlist
Episode Three: In which Tara gets some 'shrooms and Will gets an existential crisis.
or on tumblr
Um. Okay. I'm not really sure about how to do this, but Will's... busy, and he asked me to take care of it, so... here goes?
I guess today might have been a mistake - I mean, it seemed like a really good idea at the time. Will was all hyped after killing the spider, and he had been really handy during that, so I thought it would do him good to get some fresh air, and that he'd be nice to have along if something bad happened. Which, then something kind of did, but it wouldn't have if I'd had him stay home, so that was a not-good plan.
Everything seemed like it was fine at first; I explained that we had to go to the cemetery to get the ingredients for the spider-bomb, and he was fine with that. We were just going to have useful fun.
Once we were there, he was... actually kind of adorable. He wanted to explore, and when I said that I thought maybe we should find what we came for before we went around asking for trouble, he said, "Alas! that so young and fair a maiden should already have forgotten the small joys which make this oft-toilsome life worth living!" and that's... hard to argue with. I mean, he is Shakespeare. So we did climb on stuff for a while.
The weather started getting a little fitful, though -
- so I started us looking for the mushrooms. Good mushrooms, not the naughty kind.
And about then there started to be badness. I think I should have told him to keep climbing things; then maybe he wouldn't have noticed all the broken tombstones and everything. But he did notice, and he just sort of... wandered off looking at those, and got really quiet. I left him alone, because everyone needs that sometimes, right?
There really are a lot of stones there that are all defaced and broken, and some of them just get thrown in the woods. It's pretty sad. But I'm used to it, and he did just wake up... I don't know, I was thinking, "He's William Shakespeare, if anyone's equipped to handle death, it's him," and that wasn't fair, under the circumstances. But he was doing his thing and I just kept looking until I found the mushrooms. Which, again, not the drug kind.
After that, I said, "Okay, we can go," and then had to repeat it to get his attention. He nodded and kept looking at the ground the whole way. I took his arm and fended off the grass blades and steered him around the pebbles.
It was just when we got back that he started getting kind of snippy about everything and mooning over his magazine clipping of Morgan.
"I don't think it's really very healthy to be this fixated on a picture," I said. "There are fairy tales about it."
"Indeed," he said, "and there are other tales one might tell of those works one performs with herbs gathered from a grave, none of them healthful for one's immortal soul."
"Mushrooms aren't herbs," I said.
Then he started in on what exactly the spider-bomb had been made of, and what I needed the mushroom for, and brought up the s-word (Satan, not the other one).
I should have been able to handle it - I mean, if I can deal with an addict girlfriend and a troubled teenage sort-of daughter, I can deal with a superstitious middle-aged should-be genius, right? But that's the whole problem, isn't it. I never have done those things really. So. I got snippy back, and asked, "Well, what did you think a woman with a book called Spells needs with a mushroom from a cemetery for?"
Then he got all self-righteous, so I brought Morgan le Fay into it (but he had to have known she was a witch too) and he got defensive. Since he was losing the argument, he changed the subject entirely and said, "There is enough of darkness and secrets in this place without your adding to it! I demand to be told what is on that shelf, that you should be intent on keeping it from me."
So, I guess I was kind of bitter thinking about Willow and Dawn, and I just got his book down. I guess it would have been nicer to explain about me first - let him adjust to the idea on someone else, especially since at least he's a doll of a real person and that might make him feel better, comparatively speaking. Only I didn't.
He started at the beginning, and he's been reading for a while. I tried to apologize and offer to talk about it, but he just said that it would help if I'd take care of this for him, seeing as he's otherwise engaged.
I really hope I didn't mess this up. But, well, we'll get over it - we're all we've got.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Life in Plastic Masterlist
Fanfic Masterlist