[It wasn't a spirit, but he was somewhat inhuman. Humanoid, to be more precise, but not human. He certainly wasn't a spirit, although by all means he should have been. Mike should have been dead, but he wasn't. Not that he was complaining; being alive had its advantages
( ... )
[Lottie's eyes soften; they know the reality of being a young, wealthy woman in the 1920's.]
I... I know that sugah. I wish it were as simple as findin' love. But I'm not gettin' any youngah, and here, if dames don't marry early, chances are they wont at all.
I know it doesn't seem fair. I know that I might have t'end up marry someone who can finiantially not only keep up th'La Bouff fortune, but expand it. I know it's not exactly what I want, s'pecially since I've nevah met him before. But that's jus' how politics are done here. [She shrugs a bit.]
If he's no good, there's no law sayin' I have t'a; but Big Daddy said that this is a big oppahtunity for expandin' everythin'. I'd hate t'let Big Daddy down.
[Mike knows that's the reality of the situation, and that it's wrong. It isn't right. Money doesn't tell you what sort of person someone is. Shredder had everything, all the money in the world, and he had been the evilest of aliens that Mike had ever known. Billions had died just because he "expanded his wealth".
It all came down to politics. Politics, a synonym for having to put on a play for everyone to make them think you were someone you weren't, and whatever was necessary at the time. Most of the time, politics came with nothing good.
Politics didn't suit Lottie. She was too honest.
It was eating at him.]
Politics and Money don't raise children. Parents do.
["Nothing's ever hopeless." That's what Donny had said. And maybe he had even proved it to the others and had given them a future. But Don had thought of a plan.
There wasn't enough of a plan here to make him feel at ease. He glanced back at her finally, calm, cool, collected. Emotionless.
Maybe she was right. Maybe things would work out, somehow. She'd find a guy she could love, if even only a little. It was obvious that her father loved her just from the person she was.
But there were so many reasons that it wouldn't turn out to be all sunshine and roses.]
No, it isn't. [It isn't hopeless.] It can still go badly.
Well, 'course it could go badly. But I won't know for sure until I meet Mistah Jones and see for myself.
[It almost bothered Lottie that Mike appeared so emotionless, though she supposed he had always been that way. She sat back down at her vanity, and continued to inspect her face while she spoke.]
You know, I've had so many suitahs. None of them, obviously, struck my fancy. But then again, I don't really know what t'look for in a man. It's not like I can ask my mothah for help. I'm sure Eudorah would be willin' t'give tips, but her mind of man is hard t'find in conjunction with a good family name. Hm... I wondah how I should covah this... Could use mummy powder...
Oh dear, I'm not talkin' your ear off, am I, Mike?
[He wasn't always like this, Lottie. Mike's just been like this for a very, very long time. It's hard to change something like that so quickly.
Lottie was right, though. They wouldn't know what kind of man Jones was until she met him. Of course, Mike planned on watching him closely, but Lottie didn't need to know that. People didn't always understand that you were trying to protect them. Mike still didn't have a decent grasp of privacy, anyways--a childhood with your brothers in close quarters would do that to a turtle. Even if that had been practically another lifetime ago.
Listening to Lottie's chatter helped. It put him less on edge, although he remained standing. When she suddenly addressed him, he blinked once.]
Oh, okay. Jus' let me know if I'm rablin'; Tia says that sometimes when I start, I don't evah stop... until someone points out that I'm blabbin' too much, that is.
[She got up from her vanity and walked over to her closet. The searched through the dresses, all of which were some sort of shade a pink, although a glimpse of blue might be hiding in the corner.]
Not sure what I'm goin' t'wear tomorrah; I want t'make a good impression, though.
[He didn't mind her talking, even if it was about things he didn't really care about sometimes. Like fashion. Or makeup. Sure, he cross-dressed that one time so very long ago, but desperate times had called for desperate measures.
Was she about ready to start asking his opinion about things? He really hoped not. But she had an awful lot of pink.]
[Mike opens his mouth just slightly and stares at the dress for a long moment. It did cover all the important parts, but at the same time, didn't leave all that much to the imagination.
That was certainly a way to get a man's attention. Perhaps too much attention or the wrong sort of attention. But that was him being paranoid, maybe--she'd likely never travel near any shady parts of town, and Mike would be keeping an eye out for any funny business.
He closed his mouth, then looked up to Lottie's face.]
Truth be told, most of Lottie's dresses were designed to show off her body. While thin and slim were in, she knew from experience men preferred women with a little cushion for the pushin', especially in the south, were food wasn't just for survival; it was a tradition, a big deal.
Lottie presses the dress in front of her, and walks over a bit so she could see her full reflection in her vanity.] Well, I think it looks swell.
[Sorry, Lottie. That used to be one of Mike's weapons a long time ago, so he's rather immune to it now. But he shakes his head.]
No. You'll look good in it.
[Simple fact: she will. Maybe too good. The guy could get the wrong impression of her, miss out on her personality and just focus on her body. Sure, she was selfish, but it was a... selfless selfish. She was selfish for her friends, too. She cared. Lottie wanted more for everyone.
But that part of her would be missed. Jones would be too busy staring at something that wasn't her eyes. If she was going to marry someone, she'd better at least marry someone who wasn't just interested in her body and money, political marriages be damned.]
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I... I know that sugah. I wish it were as simple as findin' love. But I'm not gettin' any youngah, and here, if dames don't marry early, chances are they wont at all.
I know it doesn't seem fair. I know that I might have t'end up marry someone who can finiantially not only keep up th'La Bouff fortune, but expand it. I know it's not exactly what I want, s'pecially since I've nevah met him before. But that's jus' how politics are done here. [She shrugs a bit.]
If he's no good, there's no law sayin' I have t'a; but Big Daddy said that this is a big oppahtunity for expandin' everythin'. I'd hate t'let Big Daddy down.
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It all came down to politics. Politics, a synonym for having to put on a play for everyone to make them think you were someone you weren't, and whatever was necessary at the time. Most of the time, politics came with nothing good.
Politics didn't suit Lottie. She was too honest.
It was eating at him.]
Politics and Money don't raise children. Parents do.
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It brought Big Daddy and my mothah togethah; and they eventually fell in love. At least, that's what he always told me. It's not hopeless.
[But that statement of BD's could go either way. He was usually a pretty honest fellow, but he would lie if it would benefit his daughter.]
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There wasn't enough of a plan here to make him feel at ease. He glanced back at her finally, calm, cool, collected. Emotionless.
Maybe she was right. Maybe things would work out, somehow. She'd find a guy she could love, if even only a little. It was obvious that her father loved her just from the person she was.
But there were so many reasons that it wouldn't turn out to be all sunshine and roses.]
No, it isn't. [It isn't hopeless.] It can still go badly.
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[It almost bothered Lottie that Mike appeared so emotionless, though she supposed he had always been that way. She sat back down at her vanity, and continued to inspect her face while she spoke.]
You know, I've had so many suitahs. None of them, obviously, struck my fancy. But then again, I don't really know what t'look for in a man. It's not like I can ask my mothah for help. I'm sure Eudorah would be willin' t'give tips, but her mind of man is hard t'find in conjunction with a good family name. Hm... I wondah how I should covah this... Could use mummy powder...
Oh dear, I'm not talkin' your ear off, am I, Mike?
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Lottie was right, though. They wouldn't know what kind of man Jones was until she met him. Of course, Mike planned on watching him closely, but Lottie didn't need to know that. People didn't always understand that you were trying to protect them. Mike still didn't have a decent grasp of privacy, anyways--a childhood with your brothers in close quarters would do that to a turtle. Even if that had been practically another lifetime ago.
Listening to Lottie's chatter helped. It put him less on edge, although he remained standing. When she suddenly addressed him, he blinked once.]
No. I'm listenin'.
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[She got up from her vanity and walked over to her closet. The searched through the dresses, all of which were some sort of shade a pink, although a glimpse of blue might be hiding in the corner.]
Not sure what I'm goin' t'wear tomorrah; I want t'make a good impression, though.
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Was she about ready to start asking his opinion about things? He really hoped not. But she had an awful lot of pink.]
Wear something nice?
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[Lottie pulls out this little number.] I think I'll wear this t'meet Mistah Jones.
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That was certainly a way to get a man's attention. Perhaps too much attention or the wrong sort of attention. But that was him being paranoid, maybe--she'd likely never travel near any shady parts of town, and Mike would be keeping an eye out for any funny business.
He closed his mouth, then looked up to Lottie's face.]
... That one?
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Truth be told, most of Lottie's dresses were designed to show off her body. While thin and slim were in, she knew from experience men preferred women with a little cushion for the pushin', especially in the south, were food wasn't just for survival; it was a tradition, a big deal.
Lottie presses the dress in front of her, and walks over a bit so she could see her full reflection in her vanity.] Well, I think it looks swell.
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No. You'll look good in it.
[Simple fact: she will. Maybe too good. The guy could get the wrong impression of her, miss out on her personality and just focus on her body. Sure, she was selfish, but it was a... selfless selfish. She was selfish for her friends, too. She cared. Lottie wanted more for everyone.
But that part of her would be missed. Jones would be too busy staring at something that wasn't her eyes. If she was going to marry someone, she'd better at least marry someone who wasn't just interested in her body and money, political marriages be damned.]
... Maybe a bit over the top.
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She throws him a quizzical look.] Sugah, this is hardly ovah th'top.
[As if to prove her point, she opens her wardrobe and pulls out this] Don't even know why I own this one.
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That's not what I meant. The other one shows a lot.
[To demonstrate, he points his two fingers at his chest, then lowers his arm down to where the dress would stop if he were wearing it.]
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Oh, it's not that bad, sugah. I think you're ovahreactin' a l'il bit.
I fill it out nicely, so it jus' looks worse on th'hangah than it really is.
[She puts the "ugly" dress back into the wardrobe.]
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