the things that have passed

Mateo

Champagne, cocaine, gasoline
and most things in between

"That is fine," Mateo is already firing back at Flora, "my plants can also be territorial. Though I would say the most dangerous outcome is that the spirits start to work with them, so perhaps they really ought to be separated. I could make a greenhouse...?" He's still thinking about it, sipping thoughtfully at his drink, when his parents get that look and everything in the botanist hones in on what, he's certain, is about to be Some Bullshit at their expense.

And y'know, he's both right and he isn't when they come out with it, Mateo gazing first at Ronin as he loads the cannon and then at Remi as he pulls the cord to loose the shot, his gaze lingering, in the end, on the Bastion. He's incredulous at first, chin tipping up and posture stiffening as old hurts are not only addressed, but fumbled out into the open, as if full ownership and an apology will make them right.

Yet he can't find it in him, strangely, to conjure the fury that once burned so easily in his blood. Instead, swallowing a little hard but not outright laughing it off or telling them to stop being ridiculous, Mateo sets down his drink and narrows his eyes. The expression has the gall to be just a little playful. "Is this because Isla is pregnant?" he blurts. "Are you feeling broody and jealous?"

I roam the city in a shopping cart
a pack of Camels and a smoke alarm