[prp] mother and sons (ezra & eve)

[cibarium]

"I overheard some of the conversation you had with Jeremiah the other day," Eve confessed to Ezra. This had been after the customary finding him in his corner, asking him if he were accepting company, and finding a place to set a fresh teapot and a second cup for herself after waiting for him to rearrange all his things to his liking.

"Only enough to remind me you have very high standards," she assured a second later. "Possibly even a perfectionist." This was apparently amusing to the woman, a cup of tea already hovering in front of her face for her to laugh briefly into. "It's part of the family curse."

shibrgane

 

[shibrogane]

Ezra looked uncomfortable about that. "It's not perfectionism if you know you're capable of it," he said. "It's only reasonable to expect the best that you have to give. I know my best. What I'm capable of now isn't it."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"I understand," Eve replied. Truly. "Sorry to eavesdrop, in any case. I was actually coming over here because I wanted to show you something."

She started to search through the items in her bag. As she did so, she looked back to Ezra once or twice, a nervous but welcoming look on her face. "I think it's something you don't know about me."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Sure," said Ezra. He put his cup of tea aside, and almost put his pen aside in his tea, because he was an idiot.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

After a moment of searching, Eve's wallet was pulled out of her bag. It had one of those inserts for photographs she carefully worked at to produce a small school photo of a boy who looked to be in 8th or 9th grade. He had some resemblance to Eve in the face, as well as dark brown hair and a bit of a gap in his front teeth. Eve handed the photo over to Ezra for him to inspect, waiting to see if he'd show any sign of recognition.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"Dylan," said Ezra, looking at the photo. "I've never met him, but I know of him." He looked at the photograph, maybe marking resemblances. They shared a mother, after all. "He started to appear when I left the cycles."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Eve nodded. "That's right. Should have figured you'd have heard of him." She watched Ezra looking at the picture, wearing a small but honest smile. "And that... would make him your half-brother."

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"I've never thought of it that way, but I suppose so," said Ezra. "I wonder if I'm capable of leaving the town."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"That picture is from before the new sigil," Eve said. "I had it with me during that little adventure." Pouring herself a second cup of tea (yes, already), she continued, "I'm not sure whether my ex-wife and I parted on very good terms in this world... if we'd been together for long at all."

It would be a dangerously clueless phone call to make up to Boston that she hadn't dared try. Hi, do you still like having me in your life? Also, did we have a son? Does he like having me in his life?

"It's a shame you've never gotten to meet him," Eve said. "Did you know much about him?"

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Ezra shook his head. "He's different in every cycle," he said. "Your wife, too. The first one, before Leila. So I know he exists, and his name, but nothing about him otherwise."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Eve's expression noticeably dimmed at Ezra's answer. She gently reached out to take the small photograph back and looked at it intently, her thumb tracing the outline of Dylan's face.

It got quiet for some time, as it often did for the two of them. Eve sat with her picture and her tea, finishing her second cup and one-handedly pouring herself a third. There was obviously a lot on her mind. For once, though, it had nothing to do with magic or the cycles or the cage, and only a little to do with Ezra.

After a few long minutes, Eve looked up to to her son again, giving him an ambiguous little smile.

"I don't think you two would have gotten along well, anyhow," she joked - or the expression she wore implied a joke in her statement. Turning the picture and setting it down so Dylan was grinning up at Ezra from on top of one of his many books, their mother tapped purposefully at the side of Dylan's head. "The cochlear implant." Her smile gained more sincerity as she recollected. "It only gives you a fraction of a human's potential hearing range, so any of your compositions or performances would sound just awful to him. One of his first sign poems was about how music is a sham."

shibrgane

 

[shibrogane]

"Growing up together would have been the worst," Ezra agreed. "Music is not a sham. It's a profound expression of the human condition that transcends language... but unfortunately, not physical limitations." He might have been talking about Dylan's implant, or his own inability to properly grasp a pen. He took a sharp, deep breath and then let it out, slowly. "I miss having the dexterity I used to," he said. "When I was... before... I used to daydream about what it'd be like to play again. I never really forgot how. But now, I try to do something because I know how to do it, and..."

He took another deep breath. "I realize I've forgotten how my body is now. And it's like being on fire all over again."

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

"You'd waited a long time for this," Eve said, her voice almost a whisper. "And something still gets in the way."

This was the most vulnerable she'd seen him. Leila must have seen straight through to this part of him, she realized. Typical of her.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

"I get in the way," said Ezra. "Which is standard fare for me, to be honest." He looked at his hand. It resembled nothing so much as a dried bird's-claw now, at rest. "I am told I will never get back what I've lost." He didn't say I would rather be dead, but it hung in the air anyway.

cibarium

 

[cibarium]

Eve offered her hands forward, resting them on what little empty space there was on the table. "I've been told that before," she confessed.

shibrogane