1172. Wounded minds, 4
(Armylè)
In our beautiful city people would readily help each other, even if they weren’t acquaintances. There were social limits to this principle of altruism and charity still. Margarette could still readily refuse for her granddaughter to meet a mature man. Thankfully there was nothing sexual implied, but her little child was still someone fragile and asocial. Even if she had nothing to fear from this man, putting them on equal footing for a meeting could still disturb the younger one.
Actually it was shocking. It went a little step too far for Margarette’s behaviour. Johann had low enough a care for people to consider things like that. He was too detached from these fringes of moral and ethics, and only understood psychology in manners that could be useful to him. He had perceived her suffering, the shock and her fear, but he had not enough empathy for her. He saw someone insane that could make another one react in a constructive way and dismissed the damages or costs.
It was odd for Margarette to agree however. She was generally sensitive and protective for Néphéline. She might not have perceived the cold depth of Johann’s calculation, but she had cynically considered this trauma could help Néphéline get herself together. Even if it was the most painful of ways for her now.
Perhaps with age she began to consider more extreme ways to reach progress, lest she wouldn’t have a chance to witness their effect.
She wouldn’t tell me, but I was shocked too hearing of it.
Margarette had imagined this confrontation with another real human who didn’t know her any better than she did, but would treat her as an adult person in this meeting, it would force her to react with more maturity. It was shoving her outside of her relative comfort zone to stress test what the real world would be, endlessly. And not so long from now, for ever after Margarette would be gone. The old lady was betting on this forced social event, inviting someone for a tea and chat, to shake Néphéline in ways that would force her to change something for the better.
She didn’t care what this Geder Morhens would think, nor whether it would actually help him. She didn’t care at all about him.
Like Johann, she was simply ready to hurt some people, to get hopefully something good for the one she truly cared about. Néphéline would likely never understand where this mean decision forced upon her came from, but Margarette was simply growing more permissive with what could be deemed acceptable, in order to get Néphéline a little better able to face her future on her own.
That was her only goal. But Néphéline was too young and too lost to understand nor hear it.
They were selfish and amoral. And thus the next evening, a tired man unsure of what to expect reached the door of the Wolframite manor.
~
His face reflected how tired he was.
He had followed Johann’s unexpected instruction without questioning him nor thinking through what it could mean. Morhens was giving Johann a trust many couples in town could envy.
Johann had said nothing, giving him the address and a time, but he had smiled. Morhens didn’t know what or rather whom to expect, but he had already been puzzled and impressed when discovering the property.
Night was setting behind the trees circling the garden. The manor was not huge, but it still was one of the most singular households of the city.
And unbeknownst to any of them, it meant something to Geder...
There was something Johann did not know about the doctor’s personality, because it never had much of a chance to reveal itself.
Now that he stood before a symbol of the riches held by a family, Morhens felt uneasy. This family had accomplished something immense in the history of the blue sun’s foundation, and its reward was there. As he walked across the short park, he thought of that. Old thoughts returned to him.
He had apprehension for people of this family. This rich house reflected too much of things he had negative appreciation toward.
He rang the bell already feeling nauseous. At first he put that on the mood of the house, but he soon realised it was something else. He was already stepping inside Néphéline’s domain.
An old lady who could have been his mother opened the door. She understood who he was before he said anything, and welcomed him inside cordially.
He felt uneasy, very uneasy.
He was already about to excuse himself and leave, feeling awful. He didn’t want to talk to her and he wanted to leave this suffocating place. Margarette saw the details of his reaction and understood what he knew and didn’t know.
Morhens felt not exactly as if he had been summoned by the scientific council again, but rather infantilised into seeing his parents again for a hard talk. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was to explain himself to his parents, or this mother figure. He was still unsure of what he was doing there, but some nastier feelings were growing clear already, and he would not tolerate the situation for long.
Margarette had considered and reconsidered things every step of the way. The lost man reminding her of her grandchild in the saddest ways was currently standing in the living room, looking confused. A growing animosity was rising.
Margarette cleared her throat and called for Néphéline toward the top of the staircase.
After a moment of silence, Néphéline replied very rudely.
She didn’t care. She wasn’t going to make any effort to meet nor help whoever the fuck was this guy. She wasn’t going to move.
Margarette had expected a little more goodwill and sighed. She was about to apologise to Geder, but he raised his hand in a sign for her to shut up. He had moved naturally, no matter how rude he now looked.
Morhens was looking up there toward the corridor where the voice had come from, thinking fast.
He was beginning to understand the situation he was in.
Johann had not sent him to this manor to meet the old lady of the place, but a brat?
That was ridiculous... He wouldn’t be able to reflect about what mattered to him with a child...
And he had no interest toward women in the slightest. He was more concerned about the socks he was wearing than meeting friendly or romantic partners. But now he was beginning to understand Johann’s logic that had brought him here.
Perhaps it was less about discussing what weighed heavy on his heart, or not in a plain manner with someone old and wise. Not exactly. It had been a logical mean to an end in his situation.
But what he really wanted wasn’t to discuss his past, it was to recover his will and energy. And then what could work for a while was a different perspective.
Johann had not found someone to talk painful things through with. Which would have rapidly backfired, given his personality. He had found a more appropriate strategy.
Someone who could unnerve him again.
Someone who could personify everything he hated and despised.
For him to bask in the dark light, or aura, of everything that sickened and infuriated him.
All so he could get some more adrenalin and grit his teeth again.
He had found the best person for that.
G - Well played Johann...
Morhens was already nauseous since he set foot inside the house, and now he was a little disgusted by the mean Johann had selected. However he tended to be the first one to appreciate success no matter the means, so he was not in a place to complain. It accentuated the itch.
Morhens had never been slowed down by morality, and Johann shoved him in a situation showing the same. However, it seemed likely to work. Sick and brilliant, Morhens had to admit it.
Margarette however grew restless. She had examined Morhens as he thought these things through, reading some of it. She had not been reassured by the beginning of a sinister smile over his face.
He looked weird. Now she was worried for Néphéline.
Morhens looked back at her with a semblance of human respect for once.
He saw how worried she was. He wondered whether he should care about it for a moment. That wasn’t his usual concern. In a rare fit of consideration, he realised that to her too, Johann probably didn’t say everything. He should reassure her about what would happen. However he wasn’t sure how to say it, that he wasn’t about to lay a hand on the girl.
Morhens himself was split between leaving this nonsense behind and facing what might actually be able to give him back some of his spirits.
They looked at each other, gradually understanding each other’s perspective even without a word.
Margarette was now glaring at him with a new form of authority.
G - Ah... Johann should have come as well. He is the better diplomat. You two have similarities now that I think about it.
M - You don’t say... But I get the feeling that you are just like him. You don’t care about anyone else’s feelings.
G - Listen... I won’t do anything... Just a talk. See if I can get... This spark back.
Now the mood was tensed between them. Margarette was looking sharper and threatening, albeit still considering everything in balance. Only now did she really these two men for what they truly were.
Barely humans...
Insensitive and driven by paradigm not akin to hers, or proper citizens. Some social monsters could fit most of the game, while being driven in very different perspectives from what is expected by people aligned with a rule of education.
Morhens was ugly, and not a good speaker. But he looked tired and not like he would hurt nor touch anyone improperly.
M - You can talk for five minutes. Then you get out from this place. I never want to see your face again.
Morhens nodded and went to ascend the stairs, leaving Margarette to wait in the hall.
She remained close enough to listen and wonder.
The beast entered the lair to meet the unexpected monster.
~
