You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Sun Mar 23, 2014 1:33 pm

For the first time in well over a year she looked whole, her pallor healthy and the circles under her eyes vanished, a testament to a more peaceful sleep. She had eaten and while far from plump, her clothes fit rather than hung from her. The door might creak, but she moved quietly, with a sort of reverence in this place. It was not that the office in the meeting house was particularly quiet or holy, but for Genny, it was sacred and had been so long abandoned by Glenn it seemed the slightest noise might break the fragile reality of his return. Still, her fingers wrapped around the ledge of the door firmly, her stance square in the frame as she looked for Glenn, with only a hint of her former timidity, as if to apologize for so bold an intrusion, even as she stood there.

“It was cruel, what you said to Zilliah,” cruel because Glenn staked an ownership over her that he must have known the fae misunderstood. “Not untrue,” she followed quickly to call down any defense he might offer. The admission escaping plainly, factual. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, stepping inside the doorway and turning to gently push the door shut.

Her affections towards Glenn had never been spoken, but were no real secret between them, even Rhaena knew from being within her head. Genny had been untrained then, every emotion flowed freely and without restraint. Even if he was dense enough to have never picked up on it in person, perhaps because her teacher knew, he did too. But this wasn’t the time, nor the place to address the frivolous fancies of a bygone childhood. What good would come of labeling and giving voice to the sentiment; what would be accomplished in merely saying it aloud? Nothing.

This was the very idea Genny had tried in vain to explain to Gloria when the seamstress plainly accused Glenn of lies. All of the words mattered so little if they said nothing, but as fodder to accomplish a goal, to aid a cause. Lies or truth, words with a purpose could sway a people, it could band them together or break them apart. Even if she couldn’t recall the speech and the ensuing chaos of the crowd and certain individuals, she understood this piece.

“None-the-less,” her voice came like the buds of spring, it was a natural progression from the cool silence, a sudden, delicate, but entirely expected small burst of resignation. As a sound, it was, perhaps, not as lovely as a spring bloom, even so, it held a gentle sympathy for Zilliah and the subtle, chiding intonation of one friend to another.

Still she stepped inside, small steps purposefully at a distance and upon the desk she slid a box, the size, dimensions, and smell of a pie. The bow of twine atop was strained, pinning down a bulky letter with a broken seal. It was Gloria’s letter of official inquest. A first draft, he might discover upon reading, based on the notes that were returned, herein scrawled beside the sections in a hand very clearly belonging to Genny.
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Glenn » Sun Mar 23, 2014 2:43 pm

"Well, that's high on the list of terrible greetings," he'd look up. She looked much herself again, or at least how she should be, a more idealized version, or at least less traumatized one. He, unfortunately, could not say the same. A month of starvation took time to recover from. Starvation had been the least of his afflictions, or if not the least, certainly not the most. "An answer," namely because he barely remembered what he had said to the fae and it was best not to let THAT show, "would be that he's terribly hard to read. He feeds off the emotions of others and reacts. It means that if you come in with one plan on how to deal with him, you have to factor in that he'll respond to that plan, even the intention of you having a plan, and he'll change accordingly. That's to say I came in with a plan and wasn't just barely recovered. It was my first time back into the Dagger." He rubbed at his face, seated at his desk as he was, having put aside what papers he had. "Moreover, and this will be either hard to believe and disappointing or considered a lie and thereby also disappointing, I'm spending most of my time and resources trying to keep people fed and not rioting, Genevieve. Given my recovery, I've lost the ability to figure out who feels what about who and why. I used to have perfect little files in my mind. Right now, I couldn't tell you five sentences about Zilliah's last three months. Is his daughter still around? That ex-wife of his? Is 'ex' even an appropriate term? Is wife? Has he regained his full powers? At one point he seemed to have siphoned off some part of himself, part of his essence. Is he sleeping with Bromn? Has anyone seen Bromn? I haven't the slightest. That said, if I caused you distress indirectly, I apologize."

Never the less, she had said, though not quite like that. A pie had been offered, quite like that indeed. It was weighed down and he couldn't help but read what was before him. It was a vice one could not resist. "Occasionally," he did not yet look up. "the truth is a dangerous thing. I wish it was here, Genevieve, I really do, because danger has weight. It has importance. It has meaning. Danger cannot be invoked without meaning and purpose. The only purpose in Rhaena's death is what we can overlay upon it. Maybe that's true with anything in life. Damn if this doesn't smell good. I've had to be careful with food. If I were to eat the whole thing now (and you can't tell me that doesn't happen at least a third of the time when someone gives you a pie), I'd be on the floor in about twenty minutes, groaning irritatingly."

He'd look up, not yet touching the pie in any meaningful way. "The black hour bit isn't bad. Understanding that completely, why it happened then and never before, whether it was caused by Rhaena's death or that of the storyteller or whether it led to those things, that's a good instinct. I assume that it's the former, because I haven't had time to do anything else. The rest though? Somewhere between ridiculous and offensive. Either way, completely irresponsible when it comes to the health of the suffering. Selfish. Dogmatic. Scared. She threw me into a cursed dungeon when I tried to stop her, Genevieve. Yes, I was connected to her. I could see what I saw and do nothing about it. You can't try someone over mentalism. It's all too vague. You can however, string them up and burn them. No trial involved. That brings us back to you. Do you have things under control or do we have to write to Lamai? Do you have things under control enough for us to continue this talk at all? My mind is ... think of it like a body. It's missing an arm and a leg. You're an arm and a leg. It's better for all of us if I walk with a crutch. Under no circumstance can that be you."
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Sun Mar 23, 2014 3:43 pm

There is a careful step back, no offered hand, no attempt to close the gap or finish the circuit. Where once she had been eager, now she was not. While purposeful she is at ease, sliding into the chair across from him with a small smile at his reaction to the greeting, or lack thereof.

She is quiet a long time as he explains Zilliah, but the minor insult that had driven the first words out of her had already passed. Perhaps by the sight of Glenn, the worse version of which she could not entirely recall. Whatever penance she might have suggested to make up for the slight against the offended fae, was dropped, because in reality she knew it was misunderstanding. Manipulation, at worst.

He went on and asked questions about Zilliah, all of them seemed rhetorical, to make a point. And so she merely shrugged, not to say she didn’t know, but to answer that it mattered little now. Zilliah wanted to be left alone, most of all by the likes of Glenn.

“My memory must truly suffer, or is this really the first time you have ever apologized to me,” her genuinely sweet smile curled slightly wry, though strained. The words regarding the hungry and riots were far more dour, expected, in fact, what she had anticipated all this while. That was why Myrken needed Glenn Burnie.

“A pie isn’t meant to be eaten alone.” Her tone was very matter of fact, but the metaphor was implicit. Even if he wasn’t to share it with her, he was to find someone, keep the friends he had, share with them the –burden- of fruit and sugared crust. It was a far cry from her desperate plea to him some months ago, when she had first begged that he rely on those around him more. Not that she recalled the conversation at all, though apparently her sentiments had no changed.

“I agree, Gloria has yet to understand the larger implications of her accusations and just how much sway she carries, despite her origins – or, perhaps because.” She seemed to think aloud on that last bit, then explaining her jump to conclusion based off of the violent and racially offensive outburst, “Ariane relayed Ms. Kaczmarek's rather scathing remarks from your speech. I suppose it is possible it only further endeared folk to our young inquisitor.”

“As for me, I,” she took a deep breath and set her eyes on Glenn, perhaps they focused to restrain something within, or the gravity of the situation gave her pause. Regardless, she was silent a moment, pensive. Her trust in him had always been implicit, but was it now?

“Was I before? At your speech?” It wasn’t an accusation as Catch would have her think, it was a question. Had she reached out to him then? Had he to her? It didn’t seem possible or likely, but without the memory of it.

Clink, clink. The sound of tiny bells was so faint in the back of her mind. His voice dull and distant, only the grain of the wood on the chair she held was vivid, tangible. The light from the nearby window streaked and reflected blindingly off the table that held a vase with fresh flowers. ‘We’re at a crossroads,’ the words came, muddled and barely recognizable.
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Glenn » Sun Mar 23, 2014 3:57 pm

He didn't press on Zilliah. What the fae tended to be, more than anything else, was a means to an end. Someone wanted something. Zilliah had the power to achieve it. In that case, at least in these days, after Golben and after so much else, that meant the Governor would target those who wanted this or that, not the hapless means for them to achieve it. Two years ago, it had been different. No, now, he didn't want to know a thing about Zilliah. Not a thing.

"It's been a long few months," this to explain the apology. "Our actions have unforeseen consequences. I told you, Genevieve, I don't have a good sense of everything these days. It means that very little now is wholly by design. When it is, it's usually only in the first degree. The second, third, well, it all spirals from there. Even so, that's when I'm prepared. When I stepped in through those doors, I didn't know if the fae was alive or dead," which was to say that before, months before, Glenn had prepared for the eventualities he had used to dismiss the very act of preparation towards Zilliah, just a few minutes before.

The matter of Gloria was both trickier and pricklier. "She means well, I think. Or no, she means to mean well, that's the important thing. She means to mean well, but the definition of well is nebulous at best. If someone gains, someone else loses. If everyone gains, someone gains more than someone else. If everyone gains equally, there's a cost to be paid some other way, a higher cost than even the last scenario. Plus she hurts. Plus she's an outsider. I don't think it's me that she rails against but the very idea of authority. I could be wrong.It's hard to reason with that sort of hurt, with that sort of betrayal that comes with adulthood. I should learn more about her, though. Some things I can still at least try to prepare for."

He had no plates in the office. He had no utensils. He would have shared it, if she had provided those. Perhaps he still would later. If not with her, then his options were limited indeed. "I trust your morality more than hers. You've been here longer. You've seen the negative consequences of even the best intentions, when they are careless, when they are not. I'd like to think that you know the cost and the necessity of balancing the right choice with the best choice, when the choices you have are so limited and none of them are what Miss Wynsee might consider true." She was suddenly distracted and all he could do was speak on. "I have no further questions to ask you, Genevieve. I don't know what else to ask. Especially without an answer to what you've told me already. Then and now. I'll trust your opinion of yourself for both."
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Mon Mar 24, 2014 6:54 am

She is glad he doesn’t continue with remarks about Zilliah. He had told her once that the fae was a poor choice of friend, it was unlikely his stance on the matter had changed. No matter her respect and admiration, there were some people who simply were, and Zilliah had been and still was a dear and loyal friend. She owed him as much, even if she showed it differently – here, in this moment, it meant a chiding reminder that words and ignorance had just as much power to hurt as all the little flies with all the knowledge of every little happening.

It had been a long few months, long years, but this was merely a fact that every Myrkener knew, it was not something that even needed saying, not anymore. It showed in the hunger that carved out hollow cheeks, tired eyes, and the innocent hanged men. He had told her their actions had unforeseen consequences, not that she recalled the conversation, but that was obvious and now he had told her again. Still, the fae was the least of the concerns in terms of preparation. He was but one example of the lack of preparedness. The speech was a more obvious example, at least to Genny.

“She means to mean well,” her voice echoed, nodding, liking the sound of so simple an explanation. “You know better than most, that is the worst sort of trouble.” Genny herself was a prime example, but it was true for them all. The mean-well folk who weren’t considered a threat at first, but through small actions riled crowds and changed minds; some more literally than others. A comparison of Gloria to Rhaena might seem like a stretch, but they were not without similarity.

But she did not disagree, Gloria did mean well, as people went, she wasn’t bad. But she was trouble, at least for Glenn. He absolutely would be better for learning more about her.

“You taught me that,” her weight shifted in the seat as she sighed. He was a very good teacher in this respect, or perhaps it was him and Rhaena both; the very best intentions, especially in Myrken meant so little without a good to show for it. And even then. “I want to trust myself,” she smiled meekly, but the weight of just how much she truly did want it pulled the expression into a somber line. “I –want- to trust you.”

Her eyes fell, looking to the desk, then her lap where her hands met and her palms lay open to her as if she held in them something small and distracting. It was difficult to admit failure or to accuse someone you loved, when you intended to be better, to be your best, to be something for someone that should not feel. It was harder still to look at him then.

“I would forgive you, if you had me sway that crowd. If… if somehow… I… you… Rhaena never t-t-taught me t-these t-t-things, she… not what she did t-t-to t-those people while you were gone… I, I am not sure I could forgive myself.” He knew, didn’t he? He knew because he was there. She had hit her head and everything was gone, the last memory of Glenn was barely an echo.

Clink, clink. The tug on her hair pulled her head gently as a bell was braided into it, Rhaena’s presence in her mind, the words like the calming sound of the ocean, a sweet and indistinguishable breeze. It blended through, braided together with the memory of Glenn, or rather, the din of Glenn’s voice muted as if her head were submerged. But the wood of the chair back, the glint off the table, the vase of flowers, it was a specific place, a specific time, a frozen memory. The last she recalled before waking in the Rememdium from the first dreamless sleep she’d had in years.

“I trust you… you have always done what was necessary for Myrken, and I do not believe you would… if you used me as Rhaena used you, you… you are a fool, Glenn Burnie.” She had said his name, she had asked a question and called him a fool, but the one or two bulging tears that spatter in her palms as she looks down do not say his name in address or accusation. Rather, it is as if she is speaking about herself; even knowing she was incapable of the feat was not enough to budge her absolute faith that Glenn would not have done such a thing. And if that was true, well, there were greater problems ahead.
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Glenn » Mon Mar 24, 2014 7:31 am

It wasn't Rhaena Olwak that he compared Gloria Wynsee too. It was himself. Mean-Well. He never compared Genny to himself, though, nor to Gloria, not to Rhaena. Genny was something else, a Jinni Darden, a Bromn, even, but perhaps the best of those, a diamond that Myrken had ground out of flour and fluff, sharp edges but to those who held it as well. Didn't she shine, though?

"I would have prepared some sort of demonstration if I knew you were coming," apologies and endless admittances of lacking knowledge. Oh, how far Glenn Burnie had fallen. "And if I knew we'd be talking about this. Something dramatic. Imagine it now for me, will you. Some nice little talk about how one person who means as Gloria does, even just one, small, tiny person can press hard and harsh enough on a point of weakness and bring the entire edifice down. I'm sure you can imagine something better than I can put together on no notice without a willingness to destroy a book or two, or what remains of my secretary."

That brought them to the crux of the matter."You put me in a difficult position, Genevieve," and he would rise, finally, strength born in stubbornness and bullheadedness. It was fine. he was a damn smart bull and so usually right. A bull with spectacles, maybe. Some foreign degree, maybe a landed title. "You say you could forgive me and not yourself. You know I considered a significant untruth to save the life of Agnieszka and to give the people some closure. So either I do this, answer your fears in the worst way, but provide you an inner peace at the same time."

He raised his hand, stopping her, stopping the conversation, a physical period, holding up everything that could be held up, time itself, with the governor standing before it, staring it down. Then the hand was lowered. "Or. I could tell you this; showing you would be better but hypocritical, more so than I am already being for providing Agnieszka one thing and you another. It took a long, long time for me to crawl back to myself, Genevieve. Years. The human mind is the greatest treasure in this world. We work with what we have. We do whatever works, but we do not have what you are. We don't. Your worth to me, the entirety of your worth, is your heart, and everything human about your mind. You could have been so much less, barely anything at all. A frivolity. You strive for something more, not because you can read minds, but because you see patterns, because you've cared to learn about your fellow man, because you've survived this place and pushed forward against everything harsh and horrible with nothing more than bravery and caring. I wish you had no mentalism at all, and I would both die and kill before I let anyone, myself included, use you as a tool in that way, to reduce you to nothing more than another empty, pointless piece of magic."
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Tue Mar 25, 2014 4:04 am

Shine. Perhaps she did, brilliant yet brief, like the sun between small openings in the thick and perpetual storm clouds of Myrken's inclement existence. Somewhere between missteps and clumsy words, she was articulate and keen, understanding the whole of Myrken for mere moments before the constant deluge carried her far from where she meant to be. But that was the problem with intentions, you'd mean to stand your ground but the ground itself was faulty, all mud and loose rock; a common morality no more stable than a rolling wheel. It might stay upright, so long as it kept moving forward; but there are rocks and bumps, threats at every turn. Was it a diamond then? Or a tumbled stone, innocuous at a glance, smooth and warn, dull, weighty and unimportant until you needed an anchor, a keystone, perhaps a door held open or papers kept from a breeze.

There is a grace in the rise of her hand to wipe the beginnings of tears from her eyes, a grace that never materialized in her awkwardly long legs.

A demonstration was something needed by people who could not understand or wouldn't believe that one little girl could bring down an entire government. But she knows better. “I can imagine well, she is quite clever... and twice as stubborn,” after all, Genny had no doubt of Gloria’s desire for good nor her capacity for action. As for destroyed books and destroyed secretaries she sighs, "I can imagine, perhaps not quite as well as you." And this much is true, he had certainly found some creative solutions to past problems; something in no short supply.

In a difficult position, he rises and her eyes follow. She wouldn’t speak, and was less inclined as he held a hand to stop her. She wouldn't dare. This was to hear the tale from the horses-mouth and seeing as she could not recall, Agnie's fault was assumed. There was evidence logged. She herself had gathered it. The time, the place, where Agnie was, who she had become, surely Ariane could have and probably -should- have done it. But until this moment it -was- Agnie. Even if no one believed it. And so she is silent, re-writing the entry in her mind, placing a caveat beside her name. Even as she sits tall, she is small beneath him and these words. He would not coddle her, he never had. She would never expect that from him, never want it. Though wouldn't it be lovely, a stroke at your hair, a whisper that everything would be all right?

With a painful longing, couldn’t she just feel it, some memory of Rhaena’s perhaps.

No.

This was real. This was Glenn. Her Glenn. But then he goes on, and the rest…

It is sweet. And it aches.

Dewy red lashes faltered and fell. With closed eyes she appeared at peace, she appeared to restrain tears and be in the process of coming to terms with both a lie and a truth. Externally, it is the span of a long breath. A heart that continued beating, her chest to rise and fall gently.

Within, it is agony.

A tide surged against the futile defense, mental sandbags washed away with a powerful force that then threatened the levees Rhaena had taught her to build. Half trained and entirely different, what threatened was a storm of raw emotion, unbound, instinctual feeling. It was uncontrollable, sudden, and turbulent, vast and weighty it carried all the force of the sea. And the bells, tiny clink, clinks that resonated like beacons over the water.

“Then it was my choice,” she spoke with something that might have been heartbreak, or should have been. But it was lacking, it was devoid of emotion, entirely detached, and automatic, it was matter-of-fact; with evidence weighed, options eliminated, though improbable it must be so.
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Glenn » Wed Mar 26, 2014 6:13 am

He never had reason to doubt Genny imagination. He didn't when it came to Gloria. He didn't when it came to books and secretaries. Very likely, he didn't when it came to whatever fantasies she might hold. The age difference was not all that large between them, especially if she knew what made him look older than he was, a telling thing considering he didn't look that old at all. That was a secret Rhaena had never shared with her and those who knew it likely never would.

Her eyes became wet and he had tears once again; he was capable of them. His heart was a true thing, a fell thing. It beat like a human once more. It ached every moment of every day for what he lost and for what he could never have again. What tears he had now, though, were not for her, not even for her. He had needed her before. He needed her now, but he would not and could not need her for this. His eyes stayed steady, though it did not take a mind reader to witness his pain.

Thankfully, she would give him something else to hold on to instead. "No, Genevieve. It was not your choice." This was firm, direct. There was no hand raised and no need for one. "That's Gloria Wynsee thought right there. Black and white. Right or wrong. True or false. You're better than that. Do you look at a situation and say that either I was to blame or you were to blame? Is that how we'll examine magic. That road leads to recriminations and nooses. It was a heated moment, a desperate moment. I did not want you to do it. I would have stopped you had I known. That does not automatically mean that you meant for it. That sort of wizardry, more than most others, is fueled by emotion. Knowing you. Knowing your sensibility, I think it is more logical and reasonable, which means, Genevieve, that I do not say this out of sentiment, that you are as much a victim in this as anyone else. The practical necessity then, is to prevent it from happening again, not to put you upon the rack for what you most likely did not mean at all."
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Mon Mar 31, 2014 10:00 am

Was it really just one thing that made him look older? Glenn had been through hell and back, more than once. She didn’t know all of his secrets, she couldn’t, not by half. But beyond glimpses of struggle she knew he had them, and to some extent had felt the weight of them. They both looked older than they were, Myrken had seen to that, and what small difference there was in age, mattered little.

From her seat she half stood, her arm barely lifted in an outward stretch before she jolted back down into the seat. In a heartbeat she would have offered comfort, support, she would have shared with him tears and grief. But she does not, all but sitting on her own hand she restrains herself.

His tears weren’t for her just as hers were not for him. But they could be, after all, it cannot be helped. For all that had happened to them both, to the town, to the people they loved, it was impossible to isolate the reaction to one event. To say it was his compassion that moved her, or the sight of him that gave her guilt, the anger with herself for realizing her fault, the confusion of what had happened or the perpetual feeling of loss that clung to her with every reminder of Rhaena; it was impossible. To hold a single emotion above the others in response to what had happened, it could not be done, not here, not now, not with Glenn. Tears were rarely so simple as mere loss or grief, but a concoction brewed with history, guilt and envy, rage, remorse, love, and longing, and often times so much more than that. And hers, now, were such a muddled flavor with every sort of seasoning.

This man was a far cry from the ever-smiling Glenn, the even and unwavering man. To see him so human was, in truth, a little strange. Perhaps that made it hurt more.

She didn’t read his mind; perhaps she couldn’t even if she wanted to. But she sees the pain, with equally steady eyes she lets it wash over her, she drinks it, such a similar conflict and grief. She needed him too. Dead as Rhaena was, her voice echoed melodically, the scent of her was fleeting yet ever present, her footprints still fresh in the sand of the beach that overlooked the ocean of memories and emotion in Genny’s mind. No matter how many tides came, they would not wash away. Was this not worse?

A respite from his grief, she offers him the opportunity to explain away the action she took. He is kind and firm; she listens with the obedience dictated by guilt and the necessity of focusing her energy on calming a turbulent mind. A skipped beat, a missing memory, and with little more than Gloria’s vehement accusations as a base, she listens. More than listens. Perhaps it was Gloria’s recollection that had her in the mindset of seeing the incident with such contrast, in black or white terms. But it is Gloria’s word again Glenn. And it is the all too familiar format of his lessons; she did know better, there was always gray. And his explanation is enough to hold her, maintain for the moment, the walls that held her mind. Accurate or not, she believed him. That he hadn’t asked her to do such a thing had been comforting and that she very likely had not done it with malicious intent was as well.

They would move forward, from this and other things. She would learn to control whatever new aspect she possessed. “Well and true. I’ve already sought Zilliah,” thus explaining the worst greeting in their history and attempting to be her usual, pragmatic self. As for the practical necessity, that had been Rhaena. At the thought of her again there is a pang of pain that slams into her heart and radiates out. “But intention or not, I have still hurt Miss Wynsee and would see it made right,” she left the comment to hang for a short moment as if to ask how.

But there is a curious twist then, her head cocking to the side her chin to raise. Perhaps she needed a change in subject too, the walls of her mental defense growing dangerously thin on their current course of topics. “Preferably without a rack, a noose or worse,” unfortunately, he might know too well what fates were worse than death and surely justifiable to most, given Myrken’s painfully fresh memories of Rhaena’s influence.
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Glenn » Wed Apr 02, 2014 2:19 pm

There was a time for tears. Unfortunately, there was a place for tears as well, and Glenn Burnie was not in that place. He was in Myrken Wood, behind the chair of the governor and in the same room with Genevieve Tolleson. He had chosen her, above all others in Myrken, above Cinnabar and Ariane, above Agnieszka and yes, even Gloria, to recenter him, to find a moral mean. She and Gloria were so much alike, as was Gloria and the Burnie of just a few years before. One represented the means and one the ends. He chose her. It meant that, even as she might wish upon wishes to support him, she was his responsibility and he had to serve that role, not her.

He would be the rock for her and for Myrken. She felt the loss of Rhaena. He felt it more. She felt the hurt of the last few months. He felt it more. She felt the doubt of all that happened, of herself and to a lesser extent him,and he felt that, just in reverse, and he felt it more, even with no grand outpourings of mental powers at the worst time. His calculated mistakes were ever so much worse, of the first degree and not the second. His oversights were worse than any lapse she might make.

So he would endure, as Myrken did, for Myrken.

"An independent judge, if you can find one. Gloria Wynsee may bring for the charge but neither of you can decide the punishment. I suggest Calomel. She may as well." Then, with a pause. "She's chaos, Genevieve. Hormones and the shaping of brilliance and the righteousness of the young. It gets ground of us but it's just getting ground deeper into her. We grasp on to reality, onto small compromises, then larger ones, to hang on to what we care about. She's clinging on to it since she's adrift. We have to build a road beneath her feet. If you want to do something to make it up to her, figure out how to do that. Otherwise, find an independent judge." Another pause, then a weak smile. "Or bake a pie. You might want to lead with that.

"It's good you're getting your magic settled; I'd prefer Lamai to Zilliah but she has her own worries. If you've not in a while, write to that guard of yours." He ran a hand through his hair, tired, worn, but still maintaining something of a sparkle in his eyes. "Regrets are a terrible thing to end up with."
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Re: You are a fool, Glenn Burnie

Postby Tolleson » Fri Apr 04, 2014 12:33 pm

Glenn felt it more and always would. He was a rock, an anchor, a beacon; he was hope when the rest of the people she had relied on and loved had abandoned and failed her. Was it any surprise how attached she had become or how broken she had been in losing him?

A firm nod of agreement was cut short. “Calomel would be my choice as well,” hesitation stretched her words, made the sound of them longer. Countering them then, she offers an apologetic look. “I will ask him, but… I fear he may begin to think I rely solely upon him to save you. He was…. He was rather reluctant to leave his daughter, when I first discovered… where you had gone,” it wasn’t really fair of her to ask him to venture into the Golben to save Burnie, but she had. Surely he could, but did he even know the half of it? Not likely.

Calomel aside, he was right about Gloria. “A road beneath her,” she echoed, pondering what such a thing might look like. “Let us find a way to do both,” she smiled more genuinely and straightened her back, unclenching her hands. The tide had passed. She had been braced for a storm, a surge of memory and emotion, of whatever power it was that had taken her that day; she was prepared that it might take her and try to spill out across the desk and into Glenn. But it hadn’t. It hadn’t even come close.

There was a wry pull at one corner of her lips and a small scoff at the mention regarding his preference of mentalist. It was refreshing to speak so candidly about a subject that more than half the town would find distasteful. Rather, their preference would be, none.

As for Lamai, “yes, she does. “ There is a slight, agreeing nod offered. “And I have not been sleeping so long to be oblivious to the threat Thessilane poses. They near, even now.” There was a deep, resigned breath. “Zilliah… he… he may be the root of it, the reason I am this way, so I believe he understands it well. And I trust him,” not that she didn’t trust Lamai. But Lamai was behind a wall of guards and channelers, not to mention, a literal wall that was hundreds of miles away.

With that, there was a deep sigh, a sort of relieved breath in before she stood. There was no mention of her guard, her James, but then, this could be expected. Perhaps she had written. After all, Agnie had written to Aleksei a dozen times without reply. Perhaps conditions had worsened to the point where letters were unreliable and infrequent.

But on regrets, “I… am sure I said before, but I… I… am sorry about Rhaena, she was… I will always remember her fondly. Though... I... I am glad you’re back,” she had said it before, but it was an elusive memory where the words had all but vanished. And it, despite how small, it was a sentiment she would regret if it had never been voiced.
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Tolleson
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