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edenfallingWhen she was still in her right mind, Mal once spent a week pondering funerals. In the end, only Arthur was left to carry out her wishes. (575 words.) The title is a completely random line from Emily Dickinson, just because.
[Now crossposted here on AO3.]
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An Adjourning Heart
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When she was still in her right mind, Mal once spent a week pondering funerals. "Not so much for me, you understand," she told Dom and Arthur as they helped her clean up after a late dinner, "since I will of course be dead and beyond caring, but for those left behind. It is best to have plans laid out in advance, so no one will do foolish or unaesthetic things in the jaws of grief."
"Like follow you," Arthur said wryly, nudging Dom with his elbow.
Dom hastily rearranged his expression into something supportive and idly curious. "I hope you don't want anything too outlandish," he managed after a moment. "There are cost constraints and legal issues to consider in the real world."
"So no air burial," Mal said, a bit wistfully. "A pity. There is something very elegant about it -- the dead meat of the body carved up as any other dead animal, and fed to wild birds until only clean bones remain." She stuck the last of the knives into the butcher's block.
Dom's face slid back toward fascinated horror.
"If you want elegance and finality, I would go with cremation," Arthur said. "Very simple, very tidy, very legal. And you can get as artistic as you want with the disposal of the ashes."
"Oh, plant them in the garden, scatter them on the sea, hide them in a marble jar in a vault for a thousand years…" Mal twirled, arms stretched above her head, her lavender skirt rising like a bell. "Or the traditional way, and bury them in a grave in mimicry of a casket as if I believed in bodily resurrection. Which I do not," she added, smiling over her shoulder at Dom. "I already have all the immortality I need. My name is linked to great developments in dreamshare, my genes will continue in Philippa and any other children we may have, and my memory will whisper down the ages in the minds of those who love me and live on after I am gone."
"You'll have to count me out of that last one," Dom said, stepping forward to clasp her hands and pull them down to his shoulders. "Anything that gets you is going to have to go through me first."
Mal leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Arthur tactfully left the kitchen, their mingled laughter fading behind him like a half-remembered dream as he climbed the stairs to check on his goddaughter.
Two years later, he sat at the breakfast table with a box of ashes in front of him and the printout of an incoherent email from Dom that tried and failed to explain why he'd left the country and why Arthur shouldn't look for him.
"You stupid, stupid, idiot," Arthur muttered. "Why did you run? What the hell happened to the two of you? How am I supposed to fix this?"
Then he picked up the box of ashes. Dom should have been here to help, but Arthur would do his best to carry out Mal's instructions. He would sort through her papers and deliver them to the people who could best make use of her research and honor her name. He would stay in California to watch her children until he was sure they would be safe and well-treated until he hunted down her husband and hauled Dom home.
And he would keep her memory loved.
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Inspired by the 11/19/11![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic word #207: goodbye
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*examines Inception fic* Thus far, I have written an Ariadne-centric remix where Arthur keeps trying to be a slightly more important secondary character than Eames or Yusuf, a completely cracked out fusion WIP novel in which Arthur has had almost twice as many POV scenes as either Ariadne or Eames, and three 15-minute fics that all feature Arthur and have no other characters in common.
It's pretty obvious that Arthur is my One True Character in this fandom, yeah? Which is not surprising, really, given that he kicked off my Joseph Gordon-Levitt obsession, but still. I feel I should try to be less blatant about my favoritism.
(On that note, I am still picking my way through the too-late-for-Femgen fic about Ariadne and Dragon Day. It's up to 2,500 words, and I have gotten her from Saturday through Tuesday, so only three more days to go until the parade and the bonfire. Possibly I will continue through the next Saturday and the start of spring break, but that's very much up in the air.)
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In non-writing news, today I Did All The Chores. I paid my bills, I went grocery shopping, I did my laundry, I organized and/or threw out all the stuff that has been sitting on my tables and counters for months, I rationalized my closet storage space (...a little bit, anyway), I finally got around to putting in metal loops for my curtain ties instead of just nailing ribbons to the window frames, I fixed a sagging curtain rod, I hung two decorative poems and a flyswatter on my walls, I recycled my bag of plastic bags, I cleaned my bathroom, I packed up the clothes and books I am getting rid of, and I started cleaning my radiators.
Tomorrow I will vacuum, I will finish cleaning baseboards and radiators, and I will take out the trash, after which I will be ready for when my family arrives for Thanksgiving. \o/
Vicky will drive up Monday; our plan is to have Chinese takeout and generally hang out that night. On Tuesday she will telecommute to her job while I am at the smoke shop. That evening, our parents and Aunt Cara will arrive, we will all go out for dinner, and we will have a small birthday party for Aunt Cara. Wednesday is for touristy stuff. Thursday is for Thanksgiving itself, obviously. I am cleverly escaping the cooking portions by being at work from 9am to 2pm, but I will do most of the cleanup, so it works out. :-) And Friday morning we will have a family breakfast, after which everybody leaves.
Vicky will be on my air mattress, probably in my computer room. The others will be in motels, because I do not have room to put them up.
[Now crossposted here on AO3.]
---------------------------------------------
An Adjourning Heart
---------------------------------------------
When she was still in her right mind, Mal once spent a week pondering funerals. "Not so much for me, you understand," she told Dom and Arthur as they helped her clean up after a late dinner, "since I will of course be dead and beyond caring, but for those left behind. It is best to have plans laid out in advance, so no one will do foolish or unaesthetic things in the jaws of grief."
"Like follow you," Arthur said wryly, nudging Dom with his elbow.
Dom hastily rearranged his expression into something supportive and idly curious. "I hope you don't want anything too outlandish," he managed after a moment. "There are cost constraints and legal issues to consider in the real world."
"So no air burial," Mal said, a bit wistfully. "A pity. There is something very elegant about it -- the dead meat of the body carved up as any other dead animal, and fed to wild birds until only clean bones remain." She stuck the last of the knives into the butcher's block.
Dom's face slid back toward fascinated horror.
"If you want elegance and finality, I would go with cremation," Arthur said. "Very simple, very tidy, very legal. And you can get as artistic as you want with the disposal of the ashes."
"Oh, plant them in the garden, scatter them on the sea, hide them in a marble jar in a vault for a thousand years…" Mal twirled, arms stretched above her head, her lavender skirt rising like a bell. "Or the traditional way, and bury them in a grave in mimicry of a casket as if I believed in bodily resurrection. Which I do not," she added, smiling over her shoulder at Dom. "I already have all the immortality I need. My name is linked to great developments in dreamshare, my genes will continue in Philippa and any other children we may have, and my memory will whisper down the ages in the minds of those who love me and live on after I am gone."
"You'll have to count me out of that last one," Dom said, stepping forward to clasp her hands and pull them down to his shoulders. "Anything that gets you is going to have to go through me first."
Mal leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Arthur tactfully left the kitchen, their mingled laughter fading behind him like a half-remembered dream as he climbed the stairs to check on his goddaughter.
Two years later, he sat at the breakfast table with a box of ashes in front of him and the printout of an incoherent email from Dom that tried and failed to explain why he'd left the country and why Arthur shouldn't look for him.
"You stupid, stupid, idiot," Arthur muttered. "Why did you run? What the hell happened to the two of you? How am I supposed to fix this?"
Then he picked up the box of ashes. Dom should have been here to help, but Arthur would do his best to carry out Mal's instructions. He would sort through her papers and deliver them to the people who could best make use of her research and honor her name. He would stay in California to watch her children until he was sure they would be safe and well-treated until he hunted down her husband and hauled Dom home.
And he would keep her memory loved.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 11/19/11
15_minute_fic word #207: goodbye---------------------------------------------
*examines Inception fic* Thus far, I have written an Ariadne-centric remix where Arthur keeps trying to be a slightly more important secondary character than Eames or Yusuf, a completely cracked out fusion WIP novel in which Arthur has had almost twice as many POV scenes as either Ariadne or Eames, and three 15-minute fics that all feature Arthur and have no other characters in common.
It's pretty obvious that Arthur is my One True Character in this fandom, yeah? Which is not surprising, really, given that he kicked off my Joseph Gordon-Levitt obsession, but still. I feel I should try to be less blatant about my favoritism.
(On that note, I am still picking my way through the too-late-for-Femgen fic about Ariadne and Dragon Day. It's up to 2,500 words, and I have gotten her from Saturday through Tuesday, so only three more days to go until the parade and the bonfire. Possibly I will continue through the next Saturday and the start of spring break, but that's very much up in the air.)
---------------------------------------------
In non-writing news, today I Did All The Chores. I paid my bills, I went grocery shopping, I did my laundry, I organized and/or threw out all the stuff that has been sitting on my tables and counters for months, I rationalized my closet storage space (...a little bit, anyway), I finally got around to putting in metal loops for my curtain ties instead of just nailing ribbons to the window frames, I fixed a sagging curtain rod, I hung two decorative poems and a flyswatter on my walls, I recycled my bag of plastic bags, I cleaned my bathroom, I packed up the clothes and books I am getting rid of, and I started cleaning my radiators.
Tomorrow I will vacuum, I will finish cleaning baseboards and radiators, and I will take out the trash, after which I will be ready for when my family arrives for Thanksgiving. \o/
Vicky will drive up Monday; our plan is to have Chinese takeout and generally hang out that night. On Tuesday she will telecommute to her job while I am at the smoke shop. That evening, our parents and Aunt Cara will arrive, we will all go out for dinner, and we will have a small birthday party for Aunt Cara. Wednesday is for touristy stuff. Thursday is for Thanksgiving itself, obviously. I am cleverly escaping the cooking portions by being at work from 9am to 2pm, but I will do most of the cleanup, so it works out. :-) And Friday morning we will have a family breakfast, after which everybody leaves.
Vicky will be on my air mattress, probably in my computer room. The others will be in motels, because I do not have room to put them up.
