DETERRENT - Apply Fic

17

"You think he's making freaky pleasure droids of us or what?" Norbu asks, smiling.

Titus ignores him, dropping off the rest of the tools in the shed. Everyone else will be getting clean for their dinner at this point, and with how much Norbu likes to talk, Titus will be lucky to change into a different shirt before sitting down. Really, he'll be lucky to do any more than wash his hands, scrubbing at the dirt that has wedged its way under his nails.

"Oh come on," Norbu laughs. "You've got to wonder."

"No, I don't," Titus says.

Norbu continues to spout theories while they round up to the front of the farmhouse, much to Titus' dismay. Rather than pay attention, Titus looks up at the window into the kitchen, searching for Harvey's shadow. Sometimes it's hard to see. The blinds are thin, and even in the sun Titus can make out Harvey's shape. Lurking.

As it happens, they find out during dinner exactly what Benji had planned. Sitting around the table, gorging on food and guzzling the iced tea Harvey made, Benji puts his elbows on the table. It's disrespectful, he knows, but his mother isn't around to complain anymore. No one is. Not even Emma.

"We're having some folks over tomorrow," Benji announces. "All the neighbouring farmers. I'd appreciate if y'all could be on your best behaviour. Keep the smiling to a minimum, Eurydice."

"I don't smile," her face scrunches up.

"Exactly," Benji lifts a hand to ruffle his hair.

Cosmia grabs her fork from the table, squeezing the metal handle. Her chest rises and falls. His hands against her, measuring her, feel like a flash of bright light that just past. Her vision is still skewed. Too bright, too fluorescent.

"If you must, you can tell them you are part of a trouble youth programme," Benji says. "I don't want you lying, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention any murders or that sort. I think we'd all rather not have the pitchforks. If it comes up, tell the truth, or the delicate truth. Say you're part of a criminal gang or what not, and that you're racketeering. Should be accurate enough for you, Harvey."

"So, they're not going to know?" Norbu jitters a bit. He shoots Faris a grin.

"Not unless you run your mouth," Benji says.

Faris leans back in his chair just slightly. He thumbs the pocket of his workpants, where he has stuffed a few pages of paper and a pen. A makeshift notebook, one he uses to write down things in the field. Now, he'll be around marks.

People, he reminds himself. People that will speak. It's not the panopticon. It's not.

Harvey tilts forward, spine as stiff as his leg and the cane that supports him, "Norbu will run laps before he runs his mouth. None of us say anything."

The bruise has faded on Eurydice's skin. She reaches around her back to attempt to touch the spot it once was. She was a dancer, before all of this, and even at her most flexible she doubts she could reach it properly.

"Will the girl and boy from the pond be there?" Gale's voice is quiet.

Benji nods his head, "and I'd appreciate that if you didn't mention it either. If Holly Lee finds out her grandbaby was out there with a boy... well, I don't really feel like getting you wedding clothes too."

It isn't often that Rhiannon Rose lets herself think of the life she was supposed to live. She tells herself it is nothing like that of the girl, or whatever. It's totally and completely different. Peasants feel the pressure of death; the Armitages are under the weight of empire. Rhiannon Rose puts her hands in her lap.