faderift | (no subject)

WHO: Carlos and OPEN.
WHAT: It's the annivesary of his mother's death, and Carlos doesn't know what to do really.
WHEN: Begining of Bloomingtide
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: Mentions of corporal punishment and child abuse and nelect

Carlos isn't really sure what he is meant to do on the anniversary of his mother's execution. Is it a day meant to be celebrated? Mourned? Ignored? He never fully processes it, even though it's been so long since it happened. All it does is bring memories of her to his mind, which makes him feel small and young all over again.

The weather seems to want to agree with him as it's rainy and unpleasant. He spends most of the day inside because of that, studying and helping with the healers where he can. But then towards the middle of the afternoon being cooped up makes him feel trapped - almost like he's that little boy living in a small closet all over again.

So he finds his way outside. And he lets the rain pour down on him. He probably looks a bit mad, letting himself get soaked, but he feels almost as if it's cleansing him. He isn't even fully aware that anyone is around to judge him.

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"Yes. I was planning on getting you something to eat after you were nice and dry. Lead on, and I will make sure you are looked after." She shakes her head a little, marveling at the fact that he was simply standing there, unfazed by his state. Perhaps were this an August shower she would feel differently, but these early Bloomingtide showers still carry a chill to them that isn't healthy.

Carlos realizes just how cold he is once he's inside. Outside he had been mostly numb, but once he has dry air to contrast it with hr has a chill to his bones. He rushes a bit to his room because of that.

It's a standard Gallows room but Mal's additions have made it a bit more colorful than others. "Um, I'll be right back," he says, a little awkwardly. As he disappears behind the screen he and Mal use for privacy for things like changing.

"Of course," she replies, taking the opportunity to check out the space from her spot by the door. It's clearly very Mal if her hair is any indication of her feelings on color.

"Were you lost in thought out there? I cannot understand how you could stand it."

Carlos dresses in a hurry, though there really isn't anything he can do with his hair. It's going to dry and be unmanageable for a while.

"Sort of. It's... uh. It's the anniversary of my mother's death today. I needed to clear my head." It's still weird to say a loud, even with all of the years between now and then.

"And before you express sympathy, please don't. The world is better off without her," he adds in a hurry. Christine is such an empathetic person at times, he could see her offering emotional support over the death when that wasn't the part that was bothering him.

He's right in thinking that Christine would want to empathize, having lost a parent herself, but he doesn't give her the opportunity to do so.

"I see." A pause. "But you needed to clear your head. Were you perhaps wondering what you should be feeling?"

He pokes his head out from behind the screen to look at her and the expression on his face says that she got it in one.

"I guess," he says, before disappearing again to finish pulling on a clean robe. He comes out from behind the screen then and faces her more fully.

"A part of me wants to celebrate, but that seems so morbid."

All of Christine's nosiness and worrying does have some benefits, like being able to read between the lines at times.

"I can see how it would be. I think Nevarrans are the only ones who celebrate death as such." And they're just weird.

"I take it she was not a good person, but being that she was your flesh and blood, you do not know if you should be glad she is gone?"

Carlos sighed at that and then nodded, accepting the accuracy of that statement. "She hurt a lot of people. I don't think anyone was sad when she was gone."

"She was a mage?" she asks gently, just trying to put all the pieces together. Carlos has always wanted the Circle to protect him from himself and to protect mages from other people. If this is due to the actions of a mage mother, she can now see why that is.

"She was a blood mage. The worst kind," he admits after a moment. He frowns, never really liking admitting that, but it was the truth. "She got away with it because she hid behind wealth and privilege and preyed on people that she thought no one would miss. They didn't stop her until I was eleven."

"Wealth and privilege afford people many luxuries," she says, though her experience with such is not nearly as extreme as his. But growing up in an Orlesian Circle meant she saw the wealthy and privileged saunter about, free to leave whenever they wished. Madame de Fer still sets Christine's teeth on edge.

"It is terrible that it took so long to stop her." Any comment on the Templars being shit at their jobs she keeps to herself. Yet it still flits across her mind that Templars wasted time harassing those doing nothing wrong while blood mages freely murdered and caused destruction unchecked. "I would never suggest that you have a duty to mourn or miss her, Carlos."

Carlos offers her an appreciative smile at the comment. "Most people don't," he admitted. "Once they find out about her.

Either that or they expect that I'll end up turning out just like her."

"Now why would they think that?" she asks, before remembering that she wanted to make sure he ate to stay healthy after his trip into the rain. She gestures towards his door, unconsciously trying to herd him along because it's in her nature to take control of situations. "A person would have to be stupid to assume someone would turn out just like their parent, especially when the child was raised in a Circle." The edge of her mouth turns up in a smile.

"If people knew my mother, they would question if we were even related, if we did not look so alike. We are very different people, she and I."

He is easily herded, even more so because he likes and trusts her. He likes how easily she just accepts how silly it is to compare someone to where they came from, rather than focusing on who they are now too.

"Really? What was she like?" he asks, wanting to talk about anything other than his own parent.

She smiles a little, making a humming noise of amusement.

"Even before I went to the Circle, I knew my mother as sickly. She has weak legs and hardly ever walks. But because she is mainly housebound, it has made her a hypochondriac, always thinking other things ail her in order to gain attention. She also meddles quite a lot, going so far as to betroth me to a man in the town where she lives so I would leave the Inquisition and be cared for." Christine sighs, shaking her head.

"She is prone to dramatics, and it takes time to calm her. Yet despite all this, she is not cruel. Having a mage for a daughter does not upset her, and she wants to see me married, which shows she is optimistic that things will improve for us in time."

[ ooc: i'm hoping to wrap up pre-tourney threads. could we handwave the rest? ]