Once Calypso passed the threshold of the Grimes homestead, it felt as if the warmth drained from her body. This confrontation was going to suck.
Regardless, she passed by the living room, past the stairwell leading to the upper floors. Calypso knew that this fight was going to be in the kitchen/supper room area—where Sal already came back from the backdoor. A tall bottle of booze in her hand.
Due to… Alice and her mother, Calypso’s eyes glaze over in the presence of drinks. Sal didn’t even offer some as she poured her glass, probably to avoid Calypso’s immediate whinging. The skeletal monster girl just… Sat in her seat. Which was ironic for a number of reasons—the prime one being how she constantly dodged sitting here because she dragged her food to her room, to mix in with the Subsumed flesh she needed to eat. Now that the family’s on the verge of breaking, now she’s sitting in the seat they wanted for her.
Sal threw her head back, to basically gulp her entire cup in one motion, slamming the emptied glass onto the wooden table. Hanging her head low as she groaned in pain, possibly from the drink’s potency.
“What’s the grand just-i-f-cation y’all gonna spoon-feed me?” Sal barely didn’t raise her head, but her voice still rang out loud and clear. “‘We had ta' protect ya’ Sal, so when the time comes—yer basically flatfooted’? ‘We had basically all the old folks in town lookin’ over ya’, so they could handle it or tell ya’’—since they’re always in step with me an’ follow me every place I go, huh?”
“Maybe if you shut your trap, Sally, we’ll explain in full—” Artemis was deathly serious. It was a very ominous sign.
Calypso didn’t turn her head, but she glanced from the corner of her eye. To see Bradley walking behind, quickly, after presumably helping Mrs. Moses into the house. Preferring to make distance between her and the family as she sat in the living room.
The skeletal monster girl couldn’t exactly blame her.
“‘ALWAYS BE HONEST, SALLY’!” Sal rose from her seat, so fast that the chair almost fell back. “‘ALWAYS OWN UP Ta' YER MISTAKES’—FAT LOAD OF SHIT, COMIN’ FROM Y’ALL--!”
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“Maybe we should’ve taught you not to lose your shit if and when someone lies to you—” Artemis venomously shot back. A disgusting lilt in her voice, joking at the worst, inopportune time. “Oh wait—we never had this problem since you were, rightfully, 10 fucking years old. Like, Iunno, we had faith in our daughter still being a grown-ass woman—”
“I. NEARLY. DIED, MA!” Sal stared daggers into her. “Ain’t that enough for ya’?! Aren’t ya’ fucking terrified that yer only damn daughter would’ve become some monster?! ISN’T ANYONE NOT OKAY OVER THE FACT THAT YER DAMN FAMILY’S A MONSTER NOW--?!”
Calypso wanted to deflate over the implications of her cousin’s wording alone, but what happened next didn’t give her any time to do anything but react.
“SALICIA. You will shut your mouth, or so help me, I won’t just tell you nothing—but send you out of here on your ass!”
Stillness and silence engulfed the scene. Soon after, Sal just back down, nearly limp.
The image of that caused Calypso’s claws to immediately come out, and she proceeded to scratch the table in such frustration, that she dug impressive gashes within the wood.
Intensity replaced the stillness.
It was funny. Calypso, possibly due to nearing an emotion-based change, could hear the intake of breath Artemis was about to waste—was about to waste on an empty threat against her.
But as always, Mrs. Moses was the most levelheaded in the room.
“May I remind everyone present that not only does corruption accelerate during times of intense stress—and now every human who’s here is liable to gain MORE darkness with them?”
With her trembling bone claws, Calypso simply pulled them from the self-made indents, and neatly put them on her lap. At least they in turn made something for the monster girl to stare at. So she couldn’t see her family. So they in turn won’t see the monstrous eyes she knew that she sported in this heightened, miserable moment.
For all of her bluster about being some adult that should stoically take any struggle on the chin… Artemis proceeded to unleash a childish, agonized shout.
But the telling thing that Calypso observed, that it felt like—that shout—had been building for years. Decades, even.
“It’s not like we—we—we—we—fucking chose for to know any of this! We didn’t! We were blindsided, just like you two! You’re looking for answers—all we have are stories that basically will sound like yours! We’re not wicked stepmothers—we’re not gurus of the unknown! We’re former horror movie teens!”
Calypso perked up from that. She was still afraid to directly look at her family, but… That phrasing. It got stuck in her preverbal maw as she racked her mind.