2022-06-13 - Follow-Up Commentary

By the time the two couples separate, the fairy lights are a little more useful, gently illuminating the deck of Mikaere's boat. There are, of course, more traditional lights as well, but why turn them on when you can maintain the mood lighting? The shared bottle of wine and the few beers isn't enough to leave Mikaere even remotely toasted, but he's mellow enough with the shared evening even so.

Still. "Another beer?" he wonders, though he's drawn Jules' back up against him and wrapped his arms around her, lingering as he is upon the cushioned seat near the bow.

“Naaah. I’m good.” And she is, head against Mikaere’s shoulder and with her own arms an echo of his in a double embrace. Jules is admittedly a little tipsy—she tends towards lighter fare with lower alcohol content, not red wine—and she knows her limits.

“That was nice,” she says. “We should do that again.” And yet, here with greater privacy, Jules reflects further, summoning some of the things she didn’t say earlier.

“So this mindscape thing.”

This could go several ways.

"It was," agrees Mikaere, who may well be even happier not to have to worry about getting up-- this is also nice, just sitting here like this-- and fetching that beer. "And we should. They're good company."

So is Jules, just on her own, though. He presses a whisper-light kiss upon her hair, and hesitates.

"Mmm?"

Jules smiles, there in the fairy-lit summer night, gazing out at the harbor and its rippling water. It catches the lights and throws them back, undulating and diffracted.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to ask you to do a deep dive into my psyche,” she says lightly. “Just—how do you understand it? Do you have a way of thinking about it in your own culture?”

"I didn't think you were, though the offer does still stand: if it's something you want to experience, I'm willing."

He's slower to answer the rest, turning his gaze out over the water. It may be he's put something together of where this questioning trends.

"We don't have a tradition of-- the whole spirit quest, no," is what he says. "Symbology is a thing. Understanding yourself is a thing. But it's not the same as what I think you're referring to. My culture is more about collective prayer and understanding than individual self-discovery, though of course that exists. I'd say it's more like the way some people see meditation: being in touch with yourself, and with your spiritual self in particular. Getting closer to the spirit world."

"Maybe sometime," Jules says, same as before. Except now she adds, "It seems extremely intimate."

Otherwise, she hmms along in listening consideration as Mikaere explains further.

Does he anticipate this next question?

"Does it bother you when people lump it all together? Spirit quest, walkabouts, whatever else."

"It can be," Mikaere agrees. There's no pressure there.

An exhale, thoughtful and considered, follows. "Mm. No-- maybe a little. I can see where it comes from, though. And remember, it's not at the core of my belief system, so my feelings are likely different to yours. I recognise that the terms get used interchangeably, and without all the context that goes with them; I suppose my response would be that I accept that none of us can really understand their full meaning, not without experiencing it, and that the terms get used because people don't have a better way to put it."

"It bothers me." Jules states the obvious. "The same way people go on about spirit animals, like it's a game." Her mouth pulls to the side in a sardonic expression. "You're a lot more even-handed about this than I am. About most things, really. Does that bother you?"

Now she turns her head to actually get a look at Mikaere's face, though at an angle where she may not see it all.

"I think..."

Mikaere hesitates over his answer, and finally turns his head so that he can try and look at Jules more directly.

"There are things that bother me a lot, and things that don't. Pākehā getting tā moko? That bothers me a lot. Other things... I've learned, I think, to choose my battles. But does it bother me that you feel them more deeply? No, of course not. I love that you care so deeply."

There's more to that statement, though he's careful to pull his words out and put them together, framing his opinion. "I think it matters, too, that my culture is so much more intact than yours-- that's probably not the right word to use. Your people lost so much, and now others come in to try and claim it. Mine are in a better position to be welcoming. Does that make sense?"

It's impossible for Jules not to smile with semi-shy pleasure when Mikaere affirms her caring, which could so easily be called prickliness instead. "I've wondered if I should just get myself a t-shirt that says I'm Offended and warn people up front," she jokes.

The cultural comparison isn't a joking matter, though, and she's far more thoughtful when she concedes, "Yeah. That makes sense. And I'm not mad at Ravn. Like you said, he doesn't really have other language for it. I just wish it wasn't language that appropriates what we have -- and don't have, anymore."

Jules' joke makes Mikaere smile, unhesitatingly, though that lingers only moments: he, too, has things to consider.

"Isn't there some movement to get people to stop using 'spirit animal' and start borrowing that Harry Potter term?" he wonders, out loud. "There must be something similar for the whole-- quest concept."

"Yeah. Patronus." Jules feels the need to add thereafter, "Which I only know because of the conversation surrounding it, not because I'm a super Harry Potter fan. Though I did watch a couple of the movies." But not all -- this genre just isn't her thing. "If there's another term, I haven't heard of it," she continues. "Maybe we should just make one up. Inner vision. I don't know."

Jules looks out at the water again, and for a few seconds, her fingers beat out a light tattoo against Mikaere's arm as the accompaniment to her thinking. "I think this is why I have such a hard time talking about what happened when I went hiking. People either don't get it at all, or they think they do because of what they've read about in books or something. I did ask Ravn for some advice on how to find a good spot when I went. And he didn't act like a total know-it-all. I'm not mad," she repeats. "It's just this gut reaction I get. And I'm figuring it all out too, because it's not something we really do anymore. At least, not regularly, or as a full community. I feel like my own experience is still lacking -- and if that's me, then how dare anyone else presume to know all about it?"

"I haven't even done that much," admits Mikaere. "Never did get into the fantasy stuff. I've just heard the talk."

He's careful in considering his response beyond that, watching Jules. "But you can see how the two could be compared," he says. "Based on what we do know. Clearly, venturing into someone's mindscape is not the same as what your people did; I'd never suggest that. But I'd imagine there's some part of the experience that is the same, just missing the trappings of culture. And that's... where this whole thing gets complicated, isn't it."

Jules concedes Mikaere's point with a sigh. "Yeah. It's complicated." Complicated in ways that twist Jules up inside, cultural defensiveness meeting a desire to know and yet another not to think ill of her friends. "It's all complicated."

Her fingers drum one more time. "Is that why you go quiet every time someone brings up Ava? Because it's complicated?" In what way, she doesn't specify. It's up to Mikaere to parse exactly what she means.

"Life's complicated," says Mikaere, though it's pretty clear he's not yet worked through to that last question of Jules', because when he does? There's that intake of breath, held for a second or two too long before it gets released.

"Maybe, yeah," he says. "Because it's complicated, and... I'd been in her damn greenhouse, and it never occurred to me to question, even after being there when her blue kid showed up. And because..."

Other reasons, too.

"It's not your fault that she makes bad life choices." Present tense. Apparently Ava isn't entirely out of hot water.

Nor is Mikaere free from further questions. "Because why?" Jules asks, chin tipped back to look up at him.

Another silence from Mikaere. His brows have knit together, his mouth drawing in uncertainly.

"Because," he says, finally. "I suppose it reminds me of me. I fucked up too once, remember? And my fuck up didn't have the same kind of impact, but... it could have. If I'd continued. How can I judge her, when I've made mistakes of my own? Had the hubris to think I knew what I was doing? Was in control?"

"Oh." Jules sits with this, thinking, the rhythm of her fingers turning from a tap-tap-tap to a light caress. She doesn't immediately rush to Mikaere's defense, in this instance.

Instead, after quiet moment, she determines, "I think everyone's allowed one fuck-up. We all make mistakes. The big question is what you do afterwards. If you keep doing what you're doing, or if you make excuses, or if you decide to make a change."

It's probably easier for Mikaere, actually, for Jules not to rush to his defence.

"That's probably true," he agrees, instead, shifting one hand to press atop of Jules', just for a moment. "I changed my path. Ava can too. So can anyone. The opportunity's there. It's... hard. Hard to face up to things you've done wrong, and hard to retrain yourself, to do differently next time."

Beat. "Even now... in Dreams, or whatever? It's almost instinctual, this idea that just changing people's emotions will fix it. And Dreams are not the real world, and I don't do it there, but... it's something I worry about."

"Ava wants to," Jules relates. "I just don't know if she will. And we probably won't know until later down the line, when we can look back. She wants to create 'checks and balances.'" Briefly, both hands lift so she can make air quotes. "One of which is asking other people if such-and-such is a good idea. Maybe you'd be a good person for her to ask, given your own experience." Her own pause, then. "Though I totally get it if you also don't want to be that person."

"I'd be that person," says Mikaere. "Or a person, who could do that. For her; for anyone. Just depends if she'd want me to or not. She's got other people, people she's close to."

"I can mention it for you, if you want. Since she brought it up with me."

Then, on a totally different note, Jules offers up a little snort and says rather snarkily, "Sounds like she's got plenty of people she's close to."

"Sure," says Mikaere. He doesn't seem inclined to chase down the other woman-- but he's clearly not opposed to the idea.

Jules' snark draws a more lingering glance, a little twitch of his mouth acknowledging it. "She's friendly," he agrees, evenly.

"Friendly enough to apparently be cheating on her boyfriend."

Snark for sure.

"It's not cheating if it's something they've agreed between them," points out Mikaere, evenly. "It's not how I would conduct my affairs, mind, but-- it works for some."

"Maybe not," Jules acknowledges, though she certainly sounds skeptical about the very idea of the kind of agreements Mikaere mentions. It isn't something that she's thought of, and her eyebrows go up, up, up as she considers it. "And I don't know what her arrangements are. But I am, like, ninety percent sure that she's sleeping with the police chief."

"Huh," says Mikaere, after a moment. "She must have a thing for men in uniform."

Now Jules twists round again. "What does that mean? Who's she dating?"

Behold, Jules after a few drinks: nosy as all get out, and not above gossiping.

Mikaere hesitates, his brows furrowing again. "Well... you said she was cheating on her boyfriend. Isn't that Deacon? Deacon Fade? Or is there someone else?"

Beat. "Not that it matters."

"I don't know. I didn't know she had a boyfriend before someone else mentioned it." Mikaere? Ravn? Jules can't remember. She only latched onto the pertinent detail: Ava has a boyfriend, and it's not who Jules knows (or thinks she knows) her to be seeing. "I did see her with the police chief at her house, and they seemed friendly," as Mikaere put it, "and then I basically said it out loud when he came and checked up on me after the fruit thing. And he got all awkward, so." And from there, Jules has extrapolated.

"I mean," Mikaere hesitates. "It's a little weird for her to be sleeping with her boyfriend's boss, if that's what's happening, but as long as they're all on board with it... it's not my business, or yours, mm?" He aims to fix a look on Jules, though he's smiling a little smirkily all the same.

"The only person who's sexual partners I especially care about right now is you. Ava can bang the entire police force for all I care. Genuinely."

Cue the brow lift again. "Her boyfriend's boss?" Jules repeats, tone just as arch as her expression. It does shift to one that's a touch smug for his latter comment, admitting one of those half-smiles that skews to the side. She's not quite done on this topic, though, for all that Mikaere indicates his disinterest.

"Why do you think that they are all on board with it?" she asks. "I just assume the opposite. Especially if he's her boss. Like, that's a whole new level of awkward. And maybe it's not my business -- but also, look." Jules turns more fully now, shifting her seat. "No one told me my ex was cheating on me for ages. And everybody knew. And no one wanted to say anything, because they didn't want to get involved, and it wasn't their business. I only found out when I did because my friend came home from leave, and she found out and told me. Do you know how humiliating it is to be on the receiving end of that?" She's earnest now, not just in a tipsy gossip free-fall. "I don't know Ava's boyfriend, but if it were me, and it has been me, I'd want to know."

"Because..." Mikaere starts strong and then fades off, apparently not having an appropriate conclusion to this.

"I don't know. And I can't know. But I think... if she were sneaking around on Deacon, she'd be a lot more subtle about whatever's going on with the police chief. I hear what you're saying about what happened to you, and I'm not discounting that, not at all. Maybe I'm wrong. I'm often wrong."

It's still not a subject he's particularly fond of discussing, but what matters more is reaching for one of Jules' hands, to squeeze it within his. "I hate what happened to you. I hate the idea of anyone being screwed over like that. But I do think that if that was what was happening here, it'd look different."

"And maybe I'm wrong." Jules can admit that much, especially when faced with reasonable evidence. Her nose wrinkles with her internal conflict. "I know this isn't about me. But it's hard not to identify. But maybe I'm just seeing things where there's nothing to see."

Now she can shift back and resume her earlier position, leaning against Mikaere's chest again and pulling his arms around her just so. "Like earlier. When you and Ravn were joking around. I know you were just joking. And I still get all prickly. I think maybe because when Joe said stuff like that, he wasn't just joking, and then it would be all, 'Jules, don't get butt-hurt,' and then I'd really blow up. But it's not the same, and you're not the same, and I'm sorry."

Gently, "It's not surprising. And it's good, that you care; that you want to make sure what happened to you doesn't happen to anyone else."

Mikaere lets his arms be pulled, and squeezes gently. "Hey, it's okay," he says. "It-- yeah, it's a thing men tend to do. But I can be more thoughtful about it. Not saying I won't forget, sometimes, but I can try. Because I don't want you to feel like that, okay?"

“You’re a good guy.”

Jules’ quiet statement is one of appreciation, yes, but it goes beyond that. A blanket statement with layers beneath. In the absence of her utterly unfiltered behavior or the nakedness of the mindscape, those layers remain where she intends them: tucked away, perhaps peeking out here or there, but safely covered over.

"I try to be," is quiet, but there's a note to it: he's pleased. "Ma did her best, anyway, and life..."

Life teaches a lot of lessons, if you're willing to learn them.