eachdraidh | Video - Seelie/Unseelie (Memory)

[If Stiles had been asked which memory he would have thought would have been forcibly pulled from his brain and broadcast to the entire Drabwurld, he never would have thought it would have been the one chosen by the star. With how his life had been lately, he would have expected something along the lines of screaming and death and pain and blood. Hurt. He'd expected to hurt.

He did, but in a different sort of way.]

[The boy that came running down the stairs had to have been about six or seven, dark hair tufted and sticking up, pajamas emblazoned with iconic little Batman symbols as bare feet padded over carpeted floors, down a set of stairs and over to the large Christmas tree set up in the corner. There was no snow outside (duh, California), but there was fake snow sprayed all over the windows, snowflake decals added to give it a winter feel. There was a gasp, little hands moving up to cover a mouth open in an 'o' of surprised glee at the presents piled up under the tree. The boy went over, pulling one out and shaking it, then looking up the stairs with a sort of thoughtful look. Maybe he could open just one before...]

Put that down, Stiles. Let us at least get a little coffee in us first?

[His dad came down the stairs, flannel pj pants and a tshirt half covered by a robe. He was yawning and scratching at his belly as he shuffled towards the kitchen. A woman followed after, looking just as sleepy but giving him a fond smile as she came over, her robe closed as she went to sit on the couch.]

Oh, let him open just one. It'll help him take the edge off, right, baby?

[The woman smiled at the boy and the boy jumped up, coming over to throw small arms around her neck and give her an enthusiastic kiss. The woman laughed and ruffled his hair, pushing him back over to the tree.]

Go on, then. One to tide you over until your old, grumpy parents get some caffeine in them.

[His dad sighed and looked over at her, but he clearly wasn't actually all that put out.]

You know you spoil him.

He's a baby. He's supposed to be spoiled.

I am not. I'm almost seven. That's practically all grown up.

See, mom? Practically a man already.

[The man laughed and set up the coffee maker before coming over and sitting heavily in a chair.]

Well, go on, then. It's two against one. Majority rules.

[The boy grinned, coming over and giving his dad a thankful hug before he went over to the tree, picking out one of the medium packages because he wanted to build up anticipation for that big one in the corner.

There were flickers of how that morning continued; paper everywhere, ribbons tied in hair both long and short, happy smiles as socks were oohed and ahhed over, gifts made by small hands fussed over and elated squeals of glee over the large box, which turned out to be a Star Wars compilation present with Lego sets and a pair of light sabers that would be used the next day with Scott. They'd both be broken in four months. The image flickered and faded with the three of them on the couch, the boy sitting on the woman's lap, playing with a strand of hair as the man sat beside them, showing them something in a book he'd gotten from his wife.]

IN THE MORNING
[With eyes a little red, he addressed the network.]

So... guess there's nothing we can do to stop that, huh?

[What he really wanted to ask is if there was a way to save it.]

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[That's a bit unexpected.]

Families usually are.

True. Still love them, though.

Of course. They're family.

[He'll just pretend it's that simple.]

[He's not dumb. He knows not all families are great. Hell, look at Scott's dad. Or the entire Hale family. No thank you. But his family had been good, and he missed that.]

Wish I could go home.

I think most of us do.

[That, too, is something Masamori will pretend is simple.]

And yet here we are. Kind of sucks that we don't have an option.

I'd guess that's supposed to help motivate us.

They don't know their target audience very well.

I think that's a safe assumption.

I doubt a revolt would work when they can just firebomb us.

...is that literal or figurative?

Possibly both? I have no idea.

It's that rare to see the monarchs in action?

I've only seen them for the audiences. I have no idea what they do in the long run.

Do they even have generals?

Possibly? They don't exactly advertise what they do and don't have.

Well, hopefully things will get clearer.

[Or they'll have to find ways to make them clearer.]

I'm hoping to talk to them the next time they have an audience to clear it up.

Good luck.

Guess you'll find out soon enough if I fail or not.

Video - Seelie/Unseelie (Memory)

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