Presence
Dexterity
Unlike the last time Ramona had been at the Wasp's home, everything was clean and in its place, fresh flowers sitting in petit vases on the coffee table and island that separated the dining room from the living room, and a few scented candles had shed their perfume into the air though they sat empty of flame now. The curtains were drawn back, spilling the brilliance of Sacramento's sunlight throughout the space, bringing a vitality to the home that had not existed before. Or perhaps that was just the impression Ramona got because of the Wasp, who seemed to be almost giddy as she ushered Ramona towards a sit in the living room and then bustled off to bring them cups of tea and a plate of pastries.
"I'm so glad you came," Coco exclaimed as she set their refreshments down and then slid onto the couch, tucking her legs under her.
"I can say I hosted royalty, now!" she shared with a laugh before reaching over and picking up her tea.
"Well no, that's not why I'm happy you're here, but you do have to admit, that's quite a change from when we last spoke. How are you settling into the Crown? Do you feel any different, or is the responsibility not much different from the mantle you picked up when you became the General?"
The ogress has to be mindful of relaxing in the Wasp's presence. Their last conversation in this room had been... tense. It had certainly given her a better understanding of the Wasp, but not a full one. So much about her is still unpredictable. It's cause for awareness, and some tension. Deliberately, Ramona eases it. Trying not to let it bother her. She picks up the tea and sips, then shakes her head at Coco's question. "It's different," she answers. "When I was just the General, I had someone to answer to. The Steward, the Sovereigns. Someone to give me direction, even if I didn't like it. It also sort of... defers responsibility somewhat. Now? The buck stops here. I'm deciding direction. For my Court, and for one season a year, for this Freehold." She shrugs, and concludes, "It feels different.
"Please though, don't call me royalty," she adds a moment later, wincing. "To me it implies... I don't know, hereditary power. That's not where my power comes from, or any other Sovereign's, and it's certainly not where it's going to go when the crown leaves me." Although if Ramona is slain in contest for the crown, you could call her killer a 'relation by blood,' in a sense. "It feels kinda weird that this happened when it did," she goes on, with a mildly amused expression. "Four or five months earlier? I would've been the queen of a court of one."
The Wasp's smile turned impish, the temptation to answer Ramona's request with 'of course, your majesty,' rising up to the tip of her tongue, but instead she let her tea drown the impulse as she took a thoughtful sip. It was a bit early in their relationship for such teasing, especially given the way their last conversation had ended, not to mention how their very first meeting had gone.
Still, Coco couldn't help but offer a slight contradiction when her mouthful of tea had been swallowed. She couldn't hide all of herself, not if this relationship were ever to truly work. Besides, she thought the eldritch smith would be interested to hear what she had so, so with that playful smirk still upon her lips Coco phrased her question.
"Are you sure you don't mean to say that it feels rather Wyrd? Or, well, perhaps it's a bit reductive to boil the Wyrd down to mean just fate, but the Wyrd is a force that is intimately tied to our kind. In fact, I've actually begun some serious efforts to be able to interpret that sort of thing, but that's a tangent I suppose," Coco rambled, pausing for a brief moment to re-order her thoughts.
"What I mean to say is, perhaps this is precisely the opposite of a coincidence. As you said, your Sovereignty is granted to you by a very specific force, and that force surely knew that others under the banner of Summer were moving to this city. In fact, it was likely at the call of that force that lead our previous rulers away. So I'm not surprised to hear that it feels odd for you, though I would take heart. I think this is a sign that proves you're deserving of being called royalty.
"Which, yes, I won't call you that any longer," Coco added quickly, "it's not something I said to bother you, but I do want to point out that that's not a word that originally meant the bearer of hereditary power. In the days of kings, their position was thought to be granted to them by the gods, whether that was a bearded white man with nails in his hands, lightning, or whether it was merely a presence in a nemeton. Which is a tad different from the Wyrd, I will admit, but some could still call it divine right if they were so inclined."
She shifts in her seat. A stony joint clicks. The ogress frowns mildly. "I don't like that," she announces. She's not saying it isn't true, of course, but she's not very happy about it. "I spent too much of my life letting other people control me. Control who I am. Control my future." A prim and proper little girl singing hymns in a church in America's heartland. A blacksmith chained to her anvil, fed on gravel and ash and scraps, beaten as hard as the metal she worked. A soldier in someone else's army, someone she trusted, someone she believed in, but still someone else. A discontent newcomer in a tiny Court where their leader refused to guide them. Each time, save one, a decision to act on her own put the power back in her hands. The exception... was death severing her strings and casting her adrift. And each time, she'd said the same thing; "Never again," she tells Coco, returning her gaze to the Wasp.
"The Wyrd may have crowned me, may have given me a court of followers, but..." she frowns, then stretches out a harm, palm down, fingers extended, "I made the choice to take it," her hand closes into a fist, as if gripping something. She lets her hand fall, "I didn't like it, but I wasn't going to let some stranger take control of my Court, take control of me. Besides, there was nobody who's been here longer, done more, or could do the job better." Her eyes return to Coco again, "That's what I told them. The ones who showed up. I asked them if any of them thought they deserved it more. Thought they could do the job better. Thought they were more worthy of the crown than I was." She relaxes back into her seat, ["... It wasn't exactly your blind vote, but it was a unanimous decision.
"So..." she goes on, with another sigh. "Napoleon crowned himself. Was he royalty?" Not that Ramona intends to be a Napoleon. She can hear herself, after all. How it sounds, to have claimed power so. Why there might be some concerns about it going to her head. Everybody says it could never happen to me. But Ramona knows she needs to keep listening to herself, keep examining her own thoughts, her own actions. A preventative measure, against such ego. Though it'll get a little dry if everyone else questions her as much as she questions herself.
Coco considered for a moment, sipping at her tea, then gave a dramatic shrug, saying, "well, I'm sure he thought so, but really he couldn't have been. The revolution at that point had effectively driven Christianity into hiding, so there really wasn't anything to grant him divine right at that point. And, even though he did get overthrown, he wasn't executed like the French nobility was. So no, I don't think he quite fits.
"Good question, though," she added, leaning over to pick a chocolate croissant and nibbling a bite off of the deliciously saturated end of the pasty and took a moment to hum contentedly before she set it down onto her little tea plate and licked her fingers clean.
"Also, I do want to say that I get what you mean. The idea of something as weird as the Wyrd, or as tyrannical as Fate, lining us up like pieces on a chess board isn't something that I particularly enjoy, either. Particularly since it made Lynn Mills, of all people, my Liege. So trust me, I can understand not wanting to be beholden to someone you dislike. I'm still living it, to some degree or other," Coco confessed before burying her frown back into the chocolatey embrace of her croissant.
If Napoleon isn't royal, than neither is Ramona, in her eyes. Point settled, or at least appearing to be so, the conversation moves on. Unable to resist the pastries any longer, Ramona plucks one up at random, and brings it to her mouth, chewing contemplatively as Coco steers the dialogue around to her own court, and her new sovereign. "Mm," she agrees, "... What exactly happened, if you don't mind my asking?" She pauses, watching Coco, "I mean, a lot changed, really quickly. How'd it all work out?"
"I think that still remains to be seen," Coco replied, reaching up to try and wipe some of the chocolate off of her mouth with her thumb, only to realize that she was basically just spreading the delicious mess around. Damn. And she'd forgotten napkins.
Giving a disatisfied moue, the wasp hurriedly set her tea and pastry down and then popped off the couch to rush over and grab paper towels for both her and her guest. Not that she suspected the smith was adverse to getting a bit dirty, but she'd just cleaned her living room, after all, and no one wanted chocolate stains on their couch! So, thus armed with agents of cleanliness, she returned and plopped down onto the couch to continue their conversation.
"Basically, it started out as you'd imagine," she began, handing a paper-towel-turned-napkin to the Queen across from her.
"Lynn proclaimed her desire for the Crown, and I raised an objection against it. And no, the objection wasn't that I didn't like her, despite what you might have heard," Coco emphatically added. "Rather, it was that, in my experience, Lynn hasn't tried to help me better understand or achieve my Desires. And I know that might seem quibbley to some, but as I'm sure you know, the Sovereign of a Seasonal Court is more than just a decision maker. They're the personification of the season itself; a focus for its energies, a...a channel for the protection it grants us. But if a Sovereign doesn't really uphold that which the court stands for, well, that seems dangerous to me.
"So I raised the objection. And, truthfully, I was just hoping for her to acknowledge it. To say, 'yes, you're right, but I promise to do better,' and then I would have been happy. Or mollified, at the least. More willing to accept her as my Queen. Instead, though, she disregarded what I had to say and acted as though it wasn't worth considering. And, in the face of that, there wasn't anything else to do besides vote. Lynn was one candidate of course. Juno, a returned resident of the Freehold was another, and finally my...well, Daisy Wen, someone I'm dating, was another."
Coco lapsed into a momentary silence, 'Daisy as Queen' springing to life in her mind's eye as she took another sip of tea, but then fading again as the Wasp resumed the story.
"Anyways, Lynn was made Queen, chosen by enough of us, and the Wyrd I suppose, and then it came time to settle onto the topic of our Courtly titles. A new face in the court, Artemis, confessed to desiring the title of Claviger. Given that I didn't have much desire to be at the immediate beck and call of someone that obviously didn't care much for me, and that I assumed Lynn would be relieved not to have to deal with me, I agreed to let the title of Claviger go. And, in truth, I'm not sad about that. It might be the only title in my court that explicitly speaks for martial talent, but that's no reason to keep a title.
"Besides, I was actually rather enamored by the position of Verdant Advocate. It seemed like the perfect way to embrace my new situation, given that it had been my misguided passions that had gotten me in trouble with Lynn in the first place, and, as the Verdant Advocate, it would be my duty to help those who's passions had similarly led them astray. I will defend them no matter which laws they might be endangered by, and help guide them back towards a safe path besides. So I'm still a protector, just not one whose title emphasizes their skill with a sword any longer.
"Though, honestly, I wish my title still did have that emphasis," Coco added with a sigh. "I feel like people are too apt to forget where my true talent lies since I'm not a part of Summer."
The pastry has already vanished into her gullet, and a second along with it. Though observation would reveal the Ramona as an on-again off-again dieter with some concern over her appearance, in the end she is still an Ogre, with an appetite to match. Mindful of the first time they met, where Coco apparently took offense when Ramona accepted her offer of pastries but did not immediately express her gratitude, Ramona mutters, "Fheez 'er gooff. Fhanksh," around bites, during a pause in Coco's story. She takes the offered napkin, but she's still getting crumbs on her shirt, and likely other places as well.
At the end, she shakes her head, "I call bullshit. You'd never let anyone forget how good you are with a sword," she tells Coco with a smirk and an amused and indulgent tone. "I mean, no offense, but you kinda rub people's faces in it. That and your," she raises her hands to do air quotes, "Untouchability." She lowers her hands and shrugs, "Not that you don't deserve to be proud," Especially considering that Coco apparently derives the majority of her self-worth out of such skills, "You gotta do you. And part of doing you is not letting us forget that you could slip a blade between our ribs whenever you please." Not a great way to make friends, Coco. But if that's who you gotta be, it's who you gotta be.
"Listen, I don't claim to understand Spring, or Lynn. I'm on the outside looking in with the former, and I hardly know the latter. But... I know what it's like to have a Sovereign that's not doing what a Sovereign is there for." Goddamn it, Lucas. "It sucks... But your court is bigger than mine was then. Maybe if Lynn won't help you, the others might? Daisy, she's one of yours, right?" The mention of Coco dating in passing had not gone unnoticed. Good, good. Maybe this will make it easier for her to hear that I might possibly be having a sort of approximately 'first date' sort of situation with Vivian that might not be anything of the kind at all.
The Wasp was silent for a few moments, her eyes sliding from Ramona to stare at the flighty dips and circles of her pet fish and it's colorful aquatic dance. Though, no matter how beautiful the little creature's movement was, Coco's gaze was not truly resting upon it, but rather was invariably drawn inward, prodded by Ramona's words into reconsidering why she did what she did, and who that meant she really was, if she was 'doing her'.
Finally, breaking out of her brief reverie, Coco leaned over and pushed the tray of pastries closer to Ramona and selected another for herself before settling back with a sigh.
"You're right. Ultimately, it's not something that I should get so fixated upon. For whatever reason, Lynn is Queen now, but I have other people to turn to. Others within my court, for one, but I happen to know of two other Queens that have helped me tremendously, too," Coco said with a smile blooming across her face.
"And you're right, I probably do spend far too much time talking about that part of myself. It's just...Well, I've spent so long thinking that that's my only way to contribute. And I want to contribute. I want to be someone that helps our community. Which, yes, I know we've already talked about that, but here's the thing: I brag because I'm afraid that if I don't, I won't be called and I'll miss my opportunity. Which I suppose seems obvious, and probably silly as well, but there you have it. Desire mingling with Fear and producing what you called 'me'. The funny thing is, though, it's actually what's underneath that Desire and Fear that's actually me.
But that's for me to continue to discover, I suppose," Coco elaborated with a shrug before biting into her own pastry.
"What about you?" she asked around the sugary dough. "Feeling well discovered?"
The ogress chews contemplatively while she considers Coco's question. "Partially, I guess," she finally answers. Like the Wasp before, her gaze goes inward, pensive, "... I mean, what do people think when they think about me? At a guess: General. Fighter. Ogre. Blacksmith. Hard core. Grumpy. Butch." That last one has a little extra emphasis. She doesn't like the term or think it's particularly accurate, and feels it pigeon-holes her. "But anything more?" She shrugs, "There's more than that to who I am. That's all... undiscovered, I guess. Some of it intentionally." But not all of it.
She returns her attention to Coco, "Have we helped?" She asks, "Because honestly, I haven't been sure. It seems like... you and I, we get right up onto the edge of having a fight a lot." It's taken a lot of restraint not to launch into a shouting match with Coco, sometimes. From both of them, no doubt. "It's good to know that you're getting something positive out of it," This also being the first time the Wasp has expressed any such appreciation. "I know you value masks and roles, but... discovering you, I'm interested in that. That person underneath the Desire and the Fear? I want to meet her. If you'd ever care to introduce us," she says with a small smile.
"Well, believe it or not, I actually have been trying," Coco replied, setting her pastry plate down and wiping at her hands.
"It's just that, it's not so much that I like masks and roles, it's that they're what I know. So much so that I'm not even sure what lies beneath them. Learning about myself...I'm finding it's like learning subtext for a play. It's like looking at the reflections of what I've done, or listening for the unspoken words underneath what I've said. Even during the times when I've felt the most honest, such as when I vented my anger on Morgan, Lynn or Milo, the real me was still buried beneath the reason for why I wanted to vent my anger in the first place."
Coco shifted on the couch, bringing a pillow onto her lap, arms casually wrapping around it.
"I'll keep trying to introduce us, but I think we'll both just have to be patient. I mean, like you said, there's more to you than just what appears on the surface, and even within the surface, there's many meanings that can go ignored. Some might hear blacksmith and think of sweat and muscles. Another might imagine an artist that sees beauty in practicality and form. And perhaps they're both right, or perhaps neither are right for you. That's why I think we just have to keep trying to listen to the other. And commit to that. Which doesn't mean we might not need space, or that we can't disagree, just that we'll keep making the effort to hear the other person," Coco suggested, regarding Ramona seriously as she waited for her response.
That might be the healthiest thing Ramona has ever heard Coco say. It earns a moment of quiet reflection from the ogress. As the moment passes, she nods, "I think it says a lot of us both that we keep trying." A little pat on the back for each of them, "I think that part of what you said is good to draw extra attention to; acknowledging boundaries. Having boundaries is healthy, even in your most intimate relationships. I think that talking about them can help." She frowns, and purses her lips. These are subjects that she's not used to talking about out loud, or with such verbosity. Especially with Coco. "I didn't mean to... imply that you haven't been trying," she says, becoming careful with her enunciation and pace. Trying to choose words deliberately, for as much clarity as she can. After all, Ramona has made Coco aware of her lack of skill for subtext, so if Ramona speaks clearly, she reasons that she cannot be at fault if her words are misinterpreted. "I was trying to say that it seemed to me like your 'masks and roles' are a boundary for you, and I was trying to respect that. To respect it, but to also say that I'm interested in who you are beyond that, if you, on your own prerogative, ever wanted to go there."
She takes a sip of her tea. She's gone a little bit tense, as the conversation has transitioned to this place. Not because of Coco, but because of Ramona herself, trying to be aware of what she's saying to the Wasp, trying to articulate complex thoughts and emotions in a clear way. "It's totally legitimate to not know who you are under the masks and roles, though," she goes on. "I was like that. I was like that for a long time. Trying to discover that person... is scary. And confusing. And sometimes it hurts, on it's own, or seeing how it changes your world. And it's really, really hard. So, I get it, and I'm not trying to pressure you or anything." Really, it occurs to Ramona that she may have more in common with Coco than she first realized. Coco's parents pushed her into a mold, just like the smith's did. Ramona broke out of her mold relatively early, back in high school. Coco might only now be starting to crack her's. Don't make assumptions, though. Just let Coco be wherever she is.
"But when it comes to hearing each other, I want to remind you of something I told you a while ago; I'm bad at subtext. I try to say what I honestly think, and I get... frustrated when others don't do the same." She leans forward a little bit, "Conversations like this? Where we can directly address an issue, openly? Not talk around it, but face it head-on? They're really beneficial to me, they're really what I prefer," she says with a detectable amount of relief in the words. "I hope that it's not pushing your boundaries too much, because this kind of thing really works for me. That... level of honesty is one of my boundaries," she frowns, and licks her lips, "But... it means that there's going to be times when yeah, I'm going to distance myself from you, for my own sake. Because of your masks and roles, which," she adds quickly, and holds up a hand, patting the air for emphasis, "Are totally legitimate boundaries of your own." Slowly, she lowers her hand, and sighs, "... I just don't think it's healthy for me to be around that. I really hope that's not too hurtful to you, I don't do it to hurt you. I do it for me. To take care of myself."
"Well good. I also don't want to hurt you, so if you need space to take care of yourself then you should have it. But it does help me when you don't walk away. When you do tell me that the masks and roles are bullshit. Because they're not legitimate boundaries," Coco confessed, holding the pillow tighter.
"They're just baggage that I'm trying to work through. Costumes and props that I haven't realized I need to throw away yet. Because sometimes they just look like my clothes. Do you understand what I'm trying to you? It is my prerogative to show you who I am. I do want to go there. Right now. It's just that my heart is too good at fooling itself. At not recognizing the core of what causes it pain. Or what it really desires. So I can't just strip and give you a twirl and say, 'this is really me'."
And honestly, she doubted that even Ramona could do that, no matter how much she liked honesty. Identity itself was something that was built, and only four things in that construction were real: anger, desire, fear, and sorrow. Those were the tools for refinement, the diving rods for the mysteries of the self. That was why the Fae could not understand them, monstrous fragments of fakery that they were. That was why the Seasonal Courts gave refuge to the Lost as they did. And, if Coco started to pay attention to what those emotions told her, then she would learn who she really was.
At this, Ramona's expression changes. It's not quite the same as her usual, stand-offish reserve. It's more... contemplative. And perhaps like she's steeling herself? Measuring both internal and external forces. For Ramona had once told Ava recently that she didn't want to be responsible for Coco's emotional maintenance. She has enough of her own shit to deal with, after all. Coco hasn't ever done a lot to endear herself to Ramona, either. Yet, with Ava's input, she'd also... sort of agreed to try? To give Coco a chance. She draws in a deep breath and lets it out, then gives Coco a determined look in the eyes. "I understand what you're saying... Ok. If you want me to call you on your bullshit, I can do that. I've wanted to, but I've held back because it's your business, and to a certain extent I try not to judge. I thought it would hurt more than help. If this will help you, though, I can do that. Maybe not all the time. I might still go away, when I need to. But I know myself and my boundaries well enough to make that judgement call, on my own. I can take care of myself." She would prefer not to have to so thoroughly defend herself from the Wasp's venom, of course, but... this is a process.
"Ah, well now, if you've wanted to then I'm glad you won't be holding back any longer," Coco replied, a bright smile blossoming onto her lips once more. Desire, after all, was certainly a good sign. One that would lead both of them closer to the truth and further from the beguiling fantasies that got between them.
"So," Coco chirped, setting the pillow aside, "now that we've gotten all of that out in the open, what would you like to talk about? I wouldn't mind hearing more about you. You said you weren't sure what people thought of when they thought of you. Would you like to expound on that? Perhaps tell me more about what you see? Or what you'd like to see?"
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