[As an adult, Prior doesn't really remember this well. The hairclip's familiar, he must have stolen it off his mother's dresser a thousand times before being allowed to keep it, and he'll have tried it on both sides by now, established whether to put it to practical purpose or simply decorative. He was a little magpie for bright colours, anything other than the typically assigned black and blue and gray.
But while the colors are still bright, the arguments meld together. Self preservation or simply distance from the fact. Prior looks on with resignation but no specific familiarity. He doesn't flinch from the descriptor. Neither does the boy on the stairs - they've forgotten that he's there, why remind them.
It's soon clear they're both looking to get Prior out of their hair. His mother tries saying she can't keep him for the day, she has errands to run.
Finally, Prior nods to Dorian's question and follows him down to sit beside himself on the stairs.]
Mother's days were non-stop errands. One has to buy one's liquor from multiple stores to avoid looking like a lush.
[Well whose fault is it he's turning out this way, Evelyn? It doesn't come from me, and I'm not about to take it on now.
It's a sign of a well-made door, how soundly it slams. Prior's mother stands in the hallway for a long moment, staring at it, then wanders into another room without looking for her son. A minute later she can be heard on the phone, telling the maid she doesn't care if it's a day off, she'll have to come in.]
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But while the colors are still bright, the arguments meld together. Self preservation or simply distance from the fact. Prior looks on with resignation but no specific familiarity. He doesn't flinch from the descriptor. Neither does the boy on the stairs - they've forgotten that he's there, why remind them.
It's soon clear they're both looking to get Prior out of their hair. His mother tries saying she can't keep him for the day, she has errands to run.
Finally, Prior nods to Dorian's question and follows him down to sit beside himself on the stairs.]
Mother's days were non-stop errands. One has to buy one's liquor from multiple stores to avoid looking like a lush.
[Well whose fault is it he's turning out this way, Evelyn? It doesn't come from me, and I'm not about to take it on now.
It's a sign of a well-made door, how soundly it slams. Prior's mother stands in the hallway for a long moment, staring at it, then wanders into another room without looking for her son. A minute later she can be heard on the phone, telling the maid she doesn't care if it's a day off, she'll have to come in.]