013 ♐ Video ♐ I'm writing this letter and wishing you well; Mama, we all go to hell

[codename_duchess]

[Archer's been thinking. Running around teasing the flooded passengers was a good distraction, but his talk with Rogue has stuck in his mind. So this time he looks a bit more somber, although no more sober than usual. He's sitting on his bed, tie undone, sipping a gin and tonic with Kazak sprawled out behind him.]

Hey, I just have a question.

Is it uh - shit. [He falters, uncharacteristic for him.] Is it normal to hate your mother?

Comments

[persecutioncomplex]

Neither of mine did. They wouldn't tell me whose I was. I-i had to go behind their backs. It wouldn't have mattered if they'd lived with me or not.

[codename_duchess]

You had two parents who knew about you and they didn't even tell you who they were?

Fuck that. Fuck those guys so hard, preferably with baseball bats. Covered in nails. And broken glass. And maybe that itching powder stuff you could order from the back of comic books when you were a kid. And a lemon juice douche and/or enema on top of that.

[persecutioncomplex]

[is she laughing? not quite but she appreciates the sentiment if not the words]

You don't get it. Neither of my mothers would say whose I really was, and my father didn't care because I was his.

[codename_duchess]

...But why would your moms not tell you? Also, your dad had two wives? Was he in a cult?

[persecutioncomplex]

I never understood it. I-it wasn't as if either of them were interested in me, so I don't think it mattered.

...at least I saw them.

[codename_duchess]

Well if they weren't interested it's not like it counts.

[persecutioncomplex]

It still matters if someone's there, even if they never say a word.