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a little less than human

Summary:

Mama's more or less what most people think she is, but there are still multitudes within that more.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Everyone around Kepler knows Mama, it’s hard not to know everyone in a town where it’s deer population is neck and neck with its human one. Everyone knows she went off to some fancy art school, made a name for herself yet she still came back. It’s nearly unheard of, usually young people that run out of Kepler as fast as their feet can take them might visit for the holidays but they settle their roots in far off, more exciting places.

Madeline Cobb came back, some people blame the early death of her mother. That she came back to take over the family business of Amnesty Lodge, but even while in school Mama came back fairly frequently. Once a month, almost like clockwork she’d roll back into Amnesty Lodge in her truck and visit her mother, help out with any repairs needed at the lodge, and relax in the hot springs.

Mama’s got some eccentricities, some that the whole town notices and some that only make themselves known to dwellers within the lodge. Everybody knows that no matter how sick she is it’s near impossible to get her to a doctor. People laugh it off, call it superstitions inherited from her mother that came to Kepler from much deeper into the Appalachians. Don’t trust a doctor to do for you what your Mama could do for free.

And some people do, it used to be back when Jake rolled with them that those hornet kids would show up on her front steps at all hours nursing split lips, bruises, and other sorts of blunt force trauma from sporting accidents. Mama would stitch them up right gentle, because any friend of Jake is a friend of hers. Now that Jake’s drifted a few still show up on occasion but it a tenser thing. They aren’t here because they’re afraid their parents will take away their skateboard if they have to go to urgent care for stitches.

Now the Hornets flock to her because they’re just community college kids trying to make ends meet and going to urgent care is something akin to a middle school bully punching them in the face and stealing their rent money.

There are other quirks, people say she glows--Not literally because that’s ridiculous ya know, but she’s got a light about her. It’s practically radiant, Mama can light up a room when she smiles full on. She’d been quite popular in High School in spite of the odd crowd she ran with, people just like Mama she’s got a magnetism. It’s easy to follow with what she says, and maybe that’s why Mama is quieter than someone with that sort of reputation might be. Sure she makes small talk, makes encouraging comments to those around her, laughs at things that manage to tickle her dry wit.

It’s a privilege to make Mama laugh, is the thing. To make her happy is like a shot of serotonin directly to the nervous system and well. Mama knows that. Mama’s careful about that after years of learning and accidentally hurting. She went through a phase in college, wild and free from anyone who knew her as ‘Clara’s Girl’ she’d left a string of broken hearts behind her. She still feels bad about that sometimes, feels the responsibility of her own odd charisma too big for her young, inexperienced hands.

Things got better after she came home, back to Kepler where people knew her. There’s less chance of hurting the people that know her, because they’re never quite dazzled. It gets easier as she gets older too, when she’s less overwhelmingly beautiful and more distinguished. Interest dies down into respect, sure she’s still not a half bad looking lady but the mystery allure just isn't there when half the town remembers seeing her amble behind her mama still in diapers.

At college, Maddie was a baobhan sith, luring without truly realizing it. Kepler softens her though, into something both more approachable but somehow a little above it all. She's a wise woman, maiden, mother, and crone all rolled into one.

It's a good role, being Mama.

Mama can remember back before she was Mama, when she was just little Maddie taking solace in the warm, soft arms of her own Mama. Mama who taught her about the sylphs, Mama who taught her how to defend them even if it was just from prying eyes back then and not abominations yet, taught her to count the stars from left to right just so, and find Syvain off in the far, far distance.

“Maddie,” she would say softly because everything about her mama was soft expect the steel in her spine, “You’re my gift from the stars.”

She could never quite get her mama to explain her words, those quiet fevered words but Madeleine was not and has never been slow to the draw. She could connect the dots, a missing daddy, a mama who never let her go to the doctor, teeth just a little too sharp, eyes a touch closer to amber than brown.

It all adds up, sooner or later, sometime after she’s graduated and she moves back home for good. Her own mama’s gone, local news says it’s a bear attack but Madeleine Cobb knows better than that. She strides back into town walking tall and proud, hair cropped, with her coat billowing behind her. She’s used to wolf-whistles and unwanted commentary, back in the city but Kepler welcomes her back home. Cradles her in the grief that breaks her down, then builds her back up into something stronger.

She’s the steel her mama hid beneath soft cotton. She’s the keeper of the lodge now, the last hope for these sylphs who only want to live in peace. She hushes a newcomer her first week back, wipes their tears and sits with them half cradled in her comparatively massive form. They’re just a little thing, a sprite of a teen who’s overwhelmed with homesickness.

A girl calls her Mama, maybe on accident, maybe on purpose but it sticks. Barclays comes a year or so later, some of the older sylphs head out. They promise to return in a few years, maybe with new disguises so that no one in town gets suspicious over the folks that never seem to age. It’s not all sylphs, but some do age slower than other, all depends on the type.

There’s a reason people kept doing double-takes when she first brought Dani under her wing years later. Mama cackles when folks spluttered and asked if this was what she got up to in art school. Mama grins wide with her too sharp teeth of course because really she and Dani don’t look that similar but there’s an aura to them, that people just can’t explain. That the human brain makes jumps and leaps, bounds into conclusions to try and explain.

Mama’s age is inscrutable for a few years, she’s young when her hair shifts to steel that matches her bones, only a little older when it starts to streak white. She still looks a little Younger and a little Older than anyone can put their finger on, age and youth mingled in the face. Crow’s feet with too bright eyes, smile lines on too smooth skin. Mama’s a paradox of old and young, but maid has been summarily kicked from her role so she’s just Mother and Crone now. It’s a good fit, better now.

She walks in town and never averts her too bright eyes, never has to dim her glow for others. Breathes easier in Kepler, lives freer and happier. She doesn’t feel like an outsider, doesn’t feel like if she lets herself frown she’ll let people down. There’s no air to maintain, she’s allowed to shed her skin, leave herself raw and open and knows she’ll be protected from the vultures circling above and ants creeping below.

She sheds Madeleine Cobb like a winter coat on the first warm day of spring, sometimes she puts it back on but she doesn’t have to.

Madeline Cobb is a critically acclaimed artist. Mama is the proud owner of the Amnesty Lodge, a member of the Pine Guard, protector of Earth, Sylvain, and all those that move therebetween, and maybe she’s a little less human than what people might assume she is.

Notes:

Listen, y'all CANNOT tell me there aren't half-slyphs out in the world. Humans are monsterfuckers, it's plain and simple and Clara Cobb boned down a cryptid and had a beautiful badass daughter. It's just the facts.

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