[ Previously ]
....."We do not play with mortals," her commanding tone cracked, but the whip of her words fell short upon his deaf ears.
He cocked his head, so much like his simian descent, and questioned childishly, "Why not?"
She felt her temper flair at his willful ignorance. From the day she had brought him home, set on giving him every opportunity lost to him when his lineage faded in a haze of madness and blood, he had pushed back at her with defiance. At first she assumed it was due to the trauma of his past and his inability to deal with his emotions. Then she chalked it up to his irrational rage, brought on by his basic animal nature--his hormones--his physical separation from others as he aged--and any other excuse she could find to lie to herself.
Eventually, though, she had to accept that he was defiant because it was part of his nature. He could not fit in, could not settle, could not find a calm because it was not in him to do so. He desired things she despised to participate in--from mind games, physical manipulate and abuse, to outright bloodshed and war. She had gone then from protecting and raising him to detaining and manipulating him in order to protect others. If she could find it in her heart to put him down like a diseased beast she would.
But she loved him too much to kill him.
Even now.
"We do not play with mortals because they are of no importance to us," she finally replied, taking deep breaths to bring her emotions back down.
"I disagree," he replied, turning his body and slowly walking in a semi circle around her. "You speak as if they hold no weight upon our minds yet I have heard the many tales of our kind's interference. Including your own, mother dear."
"And in those stories did you not take away that we have learned to let these creatures be?" She asked in turn, watching him pace, so much like he had in his youth, with growing irritation.
He paused in front of her and cocked his head to the other side. "No."
Suppressing a verbal retort, she slowly lowered herself the last remaining feet and touched ground to be on level with him, hoping her actions would reach him where words did not.
"My son, there are -"
"Why did you not include my simian ancestry with my education?" he interrupted her, though he did not close the distance between them, nor increased it as she took a step forward.
"I did not wish to further anymore trauma in your life," she replied honestly.
"You know they consider my long dead grandfather a great Mythical Monkey King?"
She nodded once.
"They speak of us as if we are Gods."
She nodded again once more, well aware of the ill perception of humanity when they could not wrap their minds around that which they could not explain away with their own methodical thinking.
"So why are we not?" he asked her and she noted the honesty in his curiosity.
"Because to hold such a position requires far more responsibility than anyone has the right to carry," she replied in turn, reaching out tentatively to rest a hand upon a muscular shoulder.
"It's only a burden when you care for such feeble minded creatures," he said and she felt the body under her palm stiffen with building rage.
"They bear much ignorance, but they are not ours to toy with at will," she reminded him, a lesson she had to repeatedly teach him over the years.
"And yet they toyed with our kind, so much so it drove my own father to madness, one which spurred him into a frothing rage where he murdered my birth mother, my sisters and would have taken me as well if not..."
"If not for my interference," she finished for him, still disturbed herself by the horror of that unforgettable night.
"Indeed," he agreed but his tone held conflict. Something he often possessed in regards to her actions that fateful day.
It was her turn to cock her head to the side curiously.
"Is this punishment?" she asked.
He went silent and she wished she could see his eyes, peer at his hominid like face to truly know what he was feeling. With his emotions so easily at the surface, he had always spoke volumes with his expressions so much more than his words.
But he left her empty and she sighed at the acknowledgment that she was at least part of this backlash. She hoped to hold some weight in his heart, that it would tug at him enough to listen to her, to reconsider what he was doing.
She suspected though, that the weight was no more than a pebble easily lost among the drowning of everything else.
A low rumbling around them drew her back from her thoughts and the smell of sulfur spiked in the air, burning her eyes and nostrils with its harsh stench.
"What do you intend to do here?" she asked him, having already witnessed the aftermath of his own fall into the world of humanity, the disaster above ground physical manifestation of his fall from grace.
"I intend to come home," he replied, taking several steps back from her and further retreating emotionally, "to live with my fellow...Homininae."
"You are not of their kind," she argued.
"No more than I am of ours," he quickly replied in turn.
"They will not accept you," she reasoned.
His maniacal laughter bubbled up out of him again and she did not need to see his eyes to know the glint in them now.
"They do not need to, they simply just have to kneel before me."
....."We do not play with mortals," her commanding tone cracked, but the whip of her words fell short upon his deaf ears.
He cocked his head, so much like his simian descent, and questioned childishly, "Why not?"
*****
She felt her temper flair at his willful ignorance. From the day she had brought him home, set on giving him every opportunity lost to him when his lineage faded in a haze of madness and blood, he had pushed back at her with defiance. At first she assumed it was due to the trauma of his past and his inability to deal with his emotions. Then she chalked it up to his irrational rage, brought on by his basic animal nature--his hormones--his physical separation from others as he aged--and any other excuse she could find to lie to herself.
Eventually, though, she had to accept that he was defiant because it was part of his nature. He could not fit in, could not settle, could not find a calm because it was not in him to do so. He desired things she despised to participate in--from mind games, physical manipulate and abuse, to outright bloodshed and war. She had gone then from protecting and raising him to detaining and manipulating him in order to protect others. If she could find it in her heart to put him down like a diseased beast she would.
But she loved him too much to kill him.
Even now.
"We do not play with mortals because they are of no importance to us," she finally replied, taking deep breaths to bring her emotions back down.
"I disagree," he replied, turning his body and slowly walking in a semi circle around her. "You speak as if they hold no weight upon our minds yet I have heard the many tales of our kind's interference. Including your own, mother dear."
"And in those stories did you not take away that we have learned to let these creatures be?" She asked in turn, watching him pace, so much like he had in his youth, with growing irritation.
He paused in front of her and cocked his head to the other side. "No."
Suppressing a verbal retort, she slowly lowered herself the last remaining feet and touched ground to be on level with him, hoping her actions would reach him where words did not.
"My son, there are -"
"Why did you not include my simian ancestry with my education?" he interrupted her, though he did not close the distance between them, nor increased it as she took a step forward.
"I did not wish to further anymore trauma in your life," she replied honestly.
"You know they consider my long dead grandfather a great Mythical Monkey King?"
She nodded once.
"They speak of us as if we are Gods."
She nodded again once more, well aware of the ill perception of humanity when they could not wrap their minds around that which they could not explain away with their own methodical thinking.
"So why are we not?" he asked her and she noted the honesty in his curiosity.
"Because to hold such a position requires far more responsibility than anyone has the right to carry," she replied in turn, reaching out tentatively to rest a hand upon a muscular shoulder.
"It's only a burden when you care for such feeble minded creatures," he said and she felt the body under her palm stiffen with building rage.
"They bear much ignorance, but they are not ours to toy with at will," she reminded him, a lesson she had to repeatedly teach him over the years.
"And yet they toyed with our kind, so much so it drove my own father to madness, one which spurred him into a frothing rage where he murdered my birth mother, my sisters and would have taken me as well if not..."
"If not for my interference," she finished for him, still disturbed herself by the horror of that unforgettable night.
"Indeed," he agreed but his tone held conflict. Something he often possessed in regards to her actions that fateful day.
It was her turn to cock her head to the side curiously.
"Is this punishment?" she asked.
He went silent and she wished she could see his eyes, peer at his hominid like face to truly know what he was feeling. With his emotions so easily at the surface, he had always spoke volumes with his expressions so much more than his words.
But he left her empty and she sighed at the acknowledgment that she was at least part of this backlash. She hoped to hold some weight in his heart, that it would tug at him enough to listen to her, to reconsider what he was doing.
She suspected though, that the weight was no more than a pebble easily lost among the drowning of everything else.
A low rumbling around them drew her back from her thoughts and the smell of sulfur spiked in the air, burning her eyes and nostrils with its harsh stench.
"What do you intend to do here?" she asked him, having already witnessed the aftermath of his own fall into the world of humanity, the disaster above ground physical manifestation of his fall from grace.
"I intend to come home," he replied, taking several steps back from her and further retreating emotionally, "to live with my fellow...Homininae."
"You are not of their kind," she argued.
"No more than I am of ours," he quickly replied in turn.
"They will not accept you," she reasoned.
His maniacal laughter bubbled up out of him again and she did not need to see his eyes to know the glint in them now.
"They do not need to, they simply just have to kneel before me."
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