[and Oswald blinks--yeah that's going to take him a moment, and his face does a sort of weird thing where he's not sure if he should be happy or sad or not so he just ends up looking confused]
It's a son's job to keep his mother on her toes.
"Yes, and my heels have never touched the ground in twenty-one years."
[her response is automatic, practiced, like this is a common conversation.]
[his voice wobbles a little--and he clears his throat, trying to get himself under control somehow. For all that Oswald has seemed almost a force of nature at times, he's...almost small now. Young. A kid who lost his parents a little over six months ago. Both of them at the same time.]
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[...He's still not... sure. What he should be saying.]
But people say a lot of things. And after our last conversation...
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...yes, well. It was a bit shocking.
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So. You see ghosts. Not just see them, but talk to them, apparently. Frequently.
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...Um. Yes.
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...my mother included.
[that, itself, is quiet--and Oswald his hiding his eyes behind his hand for a moment]
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Well, in that case, my condolences. [drawled, because sarcasm is a very good defense mechanism h e y]
"I heard that! Naughty boy!" [speaking of, Gertrude sits on the table, tsking] "Teasing his mother like that."
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She says she heard that. And you shouldn't tease her.
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It's a son's job to keep his mother on her toes.
"Yes, and my heels have never touched the ground in twenty-one years."
[her response is automatic, practiced, like this is a common conversation.]
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[It's easy enough for Edward to repeat things. He's done this before, though usually the circumstances are... different. Worse.]
...I know this is... very weird.
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Ah. A bit. [his voice is...very quiet.]
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I mean, it's... you know, normal for me, but. Very unbelievable for anyone else.
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[oh my god no stop talking don't finish that sentence]
...okay?
[goddammit Edward what the fuck do you think]
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[his voice wobbles a little--and he clears his throat, trying to get himself under control somehow. For all that Oswald has seemed almost a force of nature at times, he's...almost small now. Young. A kid who lost his parents a little over six months ago. Both of them at the same time.]
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He doesn't say that, because there's no point to that. That's not... what this is about, right now.]
I'm sorry. About... what happened.
[It feels like it needs to be said.]
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....did my mother tell you? [he manages a small, wet laugh] She's always been a gossip.
"Ah, liebchen..." [Gertrude hovers her hands over his shoulders, looking down at him sadly]
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Though I did ask her about it.
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...the other night. When you asked if I used to be a defense attorney.
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I wanted to understand.
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"A mother should always want to talk about her son." [quietly, sadly, and if Gertrude could cry like this, she might]
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...It's personal. I probably shouldn't have asked.
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[And then Edward goes quiet. Not... sure what to say, exactly.]
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