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"This....is pinhole books."
Adelard observes fearfully.
"Good job Adelard, you can read very well."
Gertrude replies as she opens the gate and approches the door.
"No- Gertrude! I-... ok, why are we here."
Adelard demands with great offense.
"I need a book found and Mary happens to be skilled in that department."
Gertrude rings the doorbell.
"Yea she's also great at murdering people."
Adelard replies through his teeth, he knew Gertrude was confident, but he had no energy to deal with Mary's wrath or attitude. Gertrude rolls her eyes, she too was growing tired, but of this exchange.
"Adelard, she is something of a contact, can you trust I know what I'm doing, or do I need to get Micheal here to help instead of you."
She states scornfully. Adelard opens his mouth to argue, but decides he will simply keep his hand sin his pockets, on his gun, ready to shoot.
The door opens to reveal....a goth, a pissy one at that.
"I swear to god! It is too goddamn early for your sh-...uhhh?"
The goth trails off, seemingly expecting someone else that would make him very mad.
"Here on appointment"
Gertrude states and he groans, as if everything in life were an annoyance, he made a very good goth.
"You're early. Thats at 3"
"It is 3"
Adelard chimes in, he looks at them with surprise then leans into the house, probably checking a clock.
"Fuck me, sorry about that, late night"
He says apologetically, as he lets them in. It is now that Adelard realises that the bags under his eyes aren't makeup and he is shocked to say the least.
They are lead through a shop floor, there was dusty cramped shelves and a shop counter. The goth leads them through the shelves to a table that was also very dusty. Adelard didn't notice anything especially off aboht the books on the shelves so he expected they were the regular rares ones that were sold here. The shop was messy, dusty, bug rodden and incredibly cramped—not due to lack of space but rather the sheere amount of...shit, literal crap. Adelard silently wondered how anyone could live here.
"What are you looking for?"
The goth asks when the sit around the table. The only thing on the table—other than dust—was a book thaat Adelard expected kept track of stock, jobs and profit.
"Mary keay"
Gertrude replies simply.
"Uh I'm in charge of the buisness now."
He says with an awkward-maybe a little uncomfortable—smile.
"I'd still like to speak to her."
Gertrude states, her words spoken with just an edge of sharpness, stately and fact like, leaving no room for argument. The man stifles a laugh and shrugs.
"Sure, you can speak to mum."
He walks them upstairs and into what seems to be a work shop. There at a desk, cutting up a chicken, was what might of been Mary Keay, if you'd never met or heard of her and were blind.
It was her, but she was mangled and seemed far too out of it.
"Boy"
She greets, far too happy for Mary Keay.
"Hi mum"
The 'boy' in question, says with something between annoyance and endearment.
"Hello"
Mary greets Adelard and Gertrude, her voice was too bubbily and airy as if Mary's soul was replaced with a young childs. Gertrude shoots the man a look. He nods with a face that says 'is this what you expected'
"Shall I leave yous to talk shop"
He asks, overpowered by amusement.
"Shop? I do need more of that nice drink, boy"
Mary perks up a little, she still had a manic unstable sort of air to her, but it was as if you gave that mind to a lamb. Gertrude sighs
"No I'm sure you'll be of fine service. Uhm... it was nice seeing you Mary"
Gertrude says, unsure. Mary nods with a joyous little smile, and they leave. They sit in the kitchen, the man—who said his name was Gerard which tracked as Mary had mentioned 'her Gerard' before—fixed them some tea.
"What happend to her"
Adelard finally asks.
"My mum, got the 1 thing she always yearned for! Immortality! Thiugh she lost the other thing she loved, power. She attempted her little ritual and she od'd and it was incomplete and it left her in a weird fuckin stage. I don't really understand the logistics I just know I came home one day and my mum was a mangled ghost and her body a reflection of that. She doesn't remember much and can't manage much. It is a huge improvment, if I knew all that needed to be done to make her tolerable was a weird suicide I would of encouraged it years ago."
He says beaming, it was obvious he was being humorous, but Gertrude didn't doubt there was some air of truth to the statement.
"So what? She's just...?"
Adelard asks, not sure how to categorise her.
"Harmless? Yea, mostly. She still has some old habits, but they're incomplete and hollow without her usual uhhh evilness? She can be a bit of a pain, but more in the way that a newborn is a pain, they're so crabby no matter how much they sleep or eat, but the occasionally are kinda nice."
Gerard seemed....genuinely ecstatic, neither Gertrude nor Adelard knew what to make of it. They'd never met him before and never knew what Mary was like as a parent, but she was his mother and had occasionally shown some level of...sense? It was concerning how happy Gerard seemed about this, especially with all the marks clinging to him. While they couldn't make any assumptions of Gerard or Mary's parenting style, they could know that the chances of Mary raising an avatar were high.
"Right.."
Gertrude states with unsureness.
"I do need your help in locating a book."
As Gertrude and Gerard go through the details, Adelard looks around the shop from his seat, the place really was a mess, there was a stacknof canvases in the corner, oiles of books all over, some bin bags of....bones? Ok that was concerning.
"He alright?"
Gerard asks as Adelard looks past him at the bag.
"Well I hardly know, Adelard, are you alright?"
Gertrude asks with an annoyance in her tone, she follows his gaze then hums disapprovingly.
"It doesn't fill me with confidence that you have a bag of bones behind you, Gerard"
Gertrude grumbles
"Hmm? Oh yea, mum gets all mad when shes not 'adding to her collection' so ive been give her chickens to pick at. She also found an old lietner that just spits bones, incredibly annoying."
Gertrude and Adelard share a look, Gerard squints at them and his demeanor noticeably changes, as if he decided in that momwnt he didn't like them. Adelard knew thats what the change was because now Gerard's sarcastic but charming attitude became cliped and a little snarkier. Today was shaping out to be great.
The meeting carries on until money is exchanged and they leave, finally.
"Odd boy"
Adelard comments as they walk to the tube.
"Mhm, I'll be keeping a closer eye on those two"
Gertrude mumbles suspiciously, clearly off in her own world.
Gerry had never known a mother. The one he called mum was anything but. From his understanding, mothers were to love their children, to keep them safe from harm, not to be the harm.
Mary still was not a mother. But she was much closer than she'd ever been....than he'd ever had.
He didn't care if she had forgotten he existed and thats why he wasn't in trouble.
He didn't care that she didn't have the strength to hurt him.
He didn't care that she forgot to hate him.
The woman living in house, who raised him, and gave him life, was kinder. She couldn't remember how to function and sure it hurt to realise the only way for to love him was for her to be broken, but she smiled when he entered the room sometimes. When she was in pain, she went to him. And when he tried to do nothing, she didn't know to scream at him.
He hoped some day the fear would go away, maybe she could suffer the way he did, does and always would.