Audio - UN: LaFleurDeParis

[repaintress]

[The voice that comes through on the network is elegant and precise - every word is weighed and considered before being spoken. ]

I am told this is a forum where one may solicit public opinion.

If there is one experience you could have again, what would it be?

What from your home do you find yourself missing the most?

Comments

[repaintress]

Likewise, madame.

No. Our divisions have been used against us before. It is wiser not to trust anyone and to maintain a unified front to the outside world. Our further wellbeing is more important than my inane desire to be listened to.

[cache_coeur]

I don't think it's inane to want to be heard. What perplexes me is the differences between these Writers and your Painters... it's a great cruelty that one artist would commit violence against another.

[repaintress]

And yet they have. They're barbarians, using a child's insecurities to attack. They are cowards and they will pay.

[cache_coeur]

What do you intend to do?

[repaintress]

I'm going to kill them all.

[cache_coeur]

And your parents? What would they have you do?

[repaintress]

They don't care, as long as I attend to their affairs and Alicia.

[cache_coeur]

Their son is dead at the hands of their enemies, and their career threatened. Surely they have some care for how their affairs are handled?

[repaintress]

So you would think. They're being absurd.

[cache_coeur]

What is their fight about? It must be serious, if they’d risk their lives and their daughters’ wellbeing.

[repaintress]

Maman has created a fantasy where my brother lives. Papa is determined to make her face reality and leave. Neither of them will listen to reason: Maman is hysterical and Papa is convinced that he can solve her grief for her. She won't leave, and he won't admit his lack of control because he's convinced himself she will kill herself.

[ It's the same, really. Aline's fantasy is Verso, and Renoir's is Aline. ]

[cache_coeur]

[There’s a noteworthy delay in response. Not too long, but enough.]

The loss of a child will drive people to do terrible things. To themselves, to others. It just seems tragic to me that they’d neglect their still living children in the aftermath.

[repaintress]

I am an adult, but I cannot do the work of three people. Alicia is a child and she deserves her parents.

[cache_coeur]

You're still their daughter, too.

[repaintress]

One of us must have our feet and head in reality. The reality is that does not seem to matter.

[cache_coeur]

And there’s no one in all of Paris who could help you?

[repaintress]

Not that I can trust.

[cache_coeur]

I’m so sorry, Clea.

[repaintress]

[ She's not certain how to respond. Clea had not been fishing for sympathy - only answering the questions as they'd come. It had been cathartic. Now, however, she feels a rush of shame. She should be managing better. She should not be grasping for the kindness of strangers like a man in the desert grasps for the oasis.

It's pathetic. Her behavior is pathetic and she needs to approve. ]

Thank you for listening to a stranger's concerns.

[cache_coeur]

Of course. You know how to reach me if you ever need someone to vent to.