Re: A Stable Relationship
Posted: Sun Jun 05, 2016 6:41 pm
Thanks to Al for advising a touch-up on one paragraph
The drive out to the Alexander estate with Atsali in the passenger seat was interesting. Rowdy had talked about his family often, but Dawn had no faces to attach the stories to. Atsali gave better physical descriptions and another perspective - that of someone coming into the family.
Seen from the siren's perspective, her family had been built backward. First a pair of sisters, then a mother, then a father with his relatives, and finally a grandfather - the latter two stages in close succession. Dawn thought that this might result in very confused relationships, but she wasn't sure: broken and partial families were not common in Hyde Park, and remarriages - when they happened - were to someone the children of the earlier marriage had known for years.
"Oh, no," Atsali said. "The only one having a hard time adjusting is Grampa Al. And I think it's because he hasn't had a family for, like, decades. Don't take that wrong, he's nice, I think he loves everybody, and he lets Castela get away with a lot, but he still isn't really used to being around so many people. Sometime he takes what other people say too seriously. It didn't help that he and Grandma met because of the hit-list debacle that led up to the Pillsbury slaughter." She shuddered. "And he was one of the leaders of organizing and training our defense, so he was under a lot of stress the whole time. Grandma talks once in a while about sending him on a vacation - I dunno if she's serious but it sounds like a good idea to me."
"Back up. Hit-list debacle? I never heard that part."
"Oh, then. It started with Justin - he's a cop - being in a shootout with a drug gang and killing one of the top guys in it. THE top guy decided to make an example, and put out a list of bounties for the murder of Justin and all his friends and their friends. Thirty or forty people. Mom's a friend of Shelly, who was his fiancée - the Pillsbury incident was their wedding - and that put her, me, and Castela on the list. I'm not sure just how Al was connected, but he was on there too. Eventually someone convinced the drug boss to withdraw the list, but by the time that happened and word got out on the street another problem had come up, and that led to Pillsbury."
"How many people got killed before the list was withdrawn?"
"Nobody on the list. Al's partner Greg was the only one even injured. Lots of thugs got busted up though. Al and Greg killed one and captured another, Greg killed the one who shot him, and I... and quite a lot of people who went after Shelly's dad ended up either in the hospital or in some convenient lake - there are lots of them."
"'And I...' - you killed one?"
"No. Almost. He attacked me with a knife. He... he... surgeries... "
"You were uninjured? Physically, that is - I think I see scars in your mind. It bothers you. A lot. I think you have heard this already, but you did nothing wrong. You went feral?"
"Just my leg muscles. I kicked him three times. The first one would have been enough."
"In that kind of situation, you do not stop until you know he is no longer a threat, whether that's because he is down disarmed and not moving or because you have some distance from him and can get away safely. Three kicks seems reasonable. Have you had any other fights where you hurt someone?"
"I knocked my girlfriend unconscious. She was in bear-form, very large bear-form, and I didn't realize it wasn't a wild bear next to some of my other friends. But I guess I didn't hurt her too badly, and she forgave me."
"Any martial arts training?"
"Just a little, in school. It's all about hitting harder. I don't think I need to hit harder."
"Was this from the same teacher who put you on the field-hockey team?" There was definitely a disapproving tone to the question.
"Yeah, it was."
"Idiocy! You and I are deadly weapons. I can shatter a man's skull and crush his brain with one hoof. You nearly killed that thug without really trying. Why teach us how to do more damage? Instead, would you like to learn how to do less, yet still protect yourself?"
"Um, yeah - doing less sounds good."
"Martial-arts training, for us, should be about how to reliably not kill in situations like that - to apply enough force and control to protect ourselves and end a fight, but not so much more that we do unnecessary damage."
"Who told you that?"
"A martial-arts instructor at the University of Vermont; one semester was mandatory for paranormal freshmen, and I took a second semester. But I am not good enough to teach - for exercise I prefer running. If you want lessons and your parents agree, someone will have to find a suitable dojo."
"You don't have time to teach anyway; Rowdy says med school keeps you busy and tired."
"It certainly does."
"How busy are you?"
"My normal day is classes from 8:00 to 5:30 with an hour break to eat with one hand and hold a textbook with the other, and then another four or five hours studying. Over the weekend I spend at least another sixteen hours studying, and I have to do laundry and shopping and housekeeping. I squeeze dating your uncle in when I can. Does he complain about that?"
"Yes, a bit, but I think he admires you for it too. Oh, here's the driveway. And... I'll think about martial arts. What you said sounds backward at first but it makes sense."
Edit: minor tweak to fix Dawn's speech idiosyncracy.
The drive out to the Alexander estate with Atsali in the passenger seat was interesting. Rowdy had talked about his family often, but Dawn had no faces to attach the stories to. Atsali gave better physical descriptions and another perspective - that of someone coming into the family.
Seen from the siren's perspective, her family had been built backward. First a pair of sisters, then a mother, then a father with his relatives, and finally a grandfather - the latter two stages in close succession. Dawn thought that this might result in very confused relationships, but she wasn't sure: broken and partial families were not common in Hyde Park, and remarriages - when they happened - were to someone the children of the earlier marriage had known for years.
"Oh, no," Atsali said. "The only one having a hard time adjusting is Grampa Al. And I think it's because he hasn't had a family for, like, decades. Don't take that wrong, he's nice, I think he loves everybody, and he lets Castela get away with a lot, but he still isn't really used to being around so many people. Sometime he takes what other people say too seriously. It didn't help that he and Grandma met because of the hit-list debacle that led up to the Pillsbury slaughter." She shuddered. "And he was one of the leaders of organizing and training our defense, so he was under a lot of stress the whole time. Grandma talks once in a while about sending him on a vacation - I dunno if she's serious but it sounds like a good idea to me."
"Back up. Hit-list debacle? I never heard that part."
"Oh, then. It started with Justin - he's a cop - being in a shootout with a drug gang and killing one of the top guys in it. THE top guy decided to make an example, and put out a list of bounties for the murder of Justin and all his friends and their friends. Thirty or forty people. Mom's a friend of Shelly, who was his fiancée - the Pillsbury incident was their wedding - and that put her, me, and Castela on the list. I'm not sure just how Al was connected, but he was on there too. Eventually someone convinced the drug boss to withdraw the list, but by the time that happened and word got out on the street another problem had come up, and that led to Pillsbury."
"How many people got killed before the list was withdrawn?"
"Nobody on the list. Al's partner Greg was the only one even injured. Lots of thugs got busted up though. Al and Greg killed one and captured another, Greg killed the one who shot him, and I... and quite a lot of people who went after Shelly's dad ended up either in the hospital or in some convenient lake - there are lots of them."
"'And I...' - you killed one?"
"No. Almost. He attacked me with a knife. He... he... surgeries... "
"You were uninjured? Physically, that is - I think I see scars in your mind. It bothers you. A lot. I think you have heard this already, but you did nothing wrong. You went feral?"
"Just my leg muscles. I kicked him three times. The first one would have been enough."
"In that kind of situation, you do not stop until you know he is no longer a threat, whether that's because he is down disarmed and not moving or because you have some distance from him and can get away safely. Three kicks seems reasonable. Have you had any other fights where you hurt someone?"
"I knocked my girlfriend unconscious. She was in bear-form, very large bear-form, and I didn't realize it wasn't a wild bear next to some of my other friends. But I guess I didn't hurt her too badly, and she forgave me."
"Any martial arts training?"
"Just a little, in school. It's all about hitting harder. I don't think I need to hit harder."
"Was this from the same teacher who put you on the field-hockey team?" There was definitely a disapproving tone to the question.
"Yeah, it was."
"Idiocy! You and I are deadly weapons. I can shatter a man's skull and crush his brain with one hoof. You nearly killed that thug without really trying. Why teach us how to do more damage? Instead, would you like to learn how to do less, yet still protect yourself?"
"Um, yeah - doing less sounds good."
"Martial-arts training, for us, should be about how to reliably not kill in situations like that - to apply enough force and control to protect ourselves and end a fight, but not so much more that we do unnecessary damage."
"Who told you that?"
"A martial-arts instructor at the University of Vermont; one semester was mandatory for paranormal freshmen, and I took a second semester. But I am not good enough to teach - for exercise I prefer running. If you want lessons and your parents agree, someone will have to find a suitable dojo."
"You don't have time to teach anyway; Rowdy says med school keeps you busy and tired."
"It certainly does."
"How busy are you?"
"My normal day is classes from 8:00 to 5:30 with an hour break to eat with one hand and hold a textbook with the other, and then another four or five hours studying. Over the weekend I spend at least another sixteen hours studying, and I have to do laundry and shopping and housekeeping. I squeeze dating your uncle in when I can. Does he complain about that?"
"Yes, a bit, but I think he admires you for it too. Oh, here's the driveway. And... I'll think about martial arts. What you said sounds backward at first but it makes sense."
Edit: minor tweak to fix Dawn's speech idiosyncracy.