The Face She Has to Paint

Posted on Sat 22nd Jun, 2019 @ 11:13pm by Purulence Addams & Ignatius Collins
Edited on on Fri 9th Aug, 2019 @ 12:30am

800 words; about a 4 minute read

Mission: A Diplomatic Affair
Location: Chlamydia Addams' home, Deck 1554
Timeline: MD-1, 1930 hours

Her parents, cousins, and father's new-found -- friend? Business colleague? Purulence didn't know what he was -- had not even been inside Chlamydia's home for an hour, and she was all but screaming with the urge to sketch the guy.

More than sketch--She wanted a painting of him. His first words to her still rang in her ears, like the buzzing vibrations of a concussion: There is nothing in the least purulent about you.

He'd said it with the utmost conviction--and then had looked uncertain why he had said it, which had killed the secret delight his declaration had brought her. If he didn't know why he'd said it, it meant nothing.

Except--she still liked it.

Now, though? He wouldn't look at her, except for the briefest of moments before he glanced away and said something to Six, or her father, or to Grandmama.

"So when did you all cook up this pirating scheme?" Purulence asked her cousin Malice. She looked at her father. "And what persuaded you to go through with it?" She knew the answer to that, though, Purulence could hear her father's voice in her head now, saying, "Pirates. It'll be fun, Glory! Arrrrrh!"

"You should have been there, darling," her mother said. "You could have sketched everything and had material for years of murals. And, of course, Ischemia," her mother's gaze moved on, "you would have immediately tried to find out all their stories to be sure no one was taking advantage of anyone."

Ischemia laughed, "I'm not that bad, and anyway, they are thoroughly bad fellows from all I hear. Anyway, I'm finding plenty of work right here on the starbase." She said no more than that, and hoped no one would ask her what she was doing. She wasn't ready to go public yet. "Really, Purulence, I think you ought to paint this young man. His face has such interesting angles." She had no idea what she was talking about, but diverting attention to her sister seemed fair.

"His eyes are what interest me the most," Purulence said. She looked back at Ischemia. "I keep having this weird feeling that I've seen him before, but I'd remember if I had."

"Maybe a premonition dream?" her sister suggested, only half paying attention to Purulence.

"You're looking well, Mother, for a woman who has been terrified by pirates," Ischemia grinned, knowing nothing ever scared her mother.

"It was far more fun to terrify them," Glory answered, an uncharacteristic twinkle in her eyed. "Your father was quite good at it, actually."

"Oh, no," Ignatius said with an amused look. "They just thought Cap--sorry--Pubert--was odd. They looked upon you with holy dread, Ma'am. I'd never seen anything like it." He carefully did not mention that she'd killed the pirate captain with her fingernails. He wasn't sure how the family would take it. "I think you were their hero--or their avenging angel; I'm not sure which."

"Gloriana, my Glory, is always a grim and terrible angel," Pubert announced grandly, bouncing Six on his knee. "I am the most fortunate man alive, Ignatius! Married to such a creature, and surrounded as I am by the choir of heavenly beings who are my daughters!"

Malice laughed and looked at Cookie. "While we, apparently...."

"Are every bit as divine," Great-Grandmama said, her voice ancient and dry as desert dust. "Or infernal. The Sun of Mourning was an angel, too, before the Schism."

"Did you know him, grand-mère?" Six asked.

A laugh like paper crinkling came from the old, old woman. "Even I am not that old, child. The Schism was done and dusted long before I came along."

There was something in her so many greats-grandmother's voice that caught Ischemia's attention. It caused her to wonder how often the woman had lied to them about historical events. Just out of reach in her mind was a certainty that she was lying to Six, or misrepresenting something ... but how could that be? And then her mind glided off to another topic.

"Is anyone else hungry? Shall we adjourn to ... what do you think? Orchids & Jazz or perhaps Pearl With a Chain Saw? Or we could order delivery from either one, if no one feels like going out." She looked at her family, and then smiled. "Actually, it would probably be best to order in, because I think this might be a few too many Addamses for one restaurant to cope."

"There is something to be said for 'freaking the mundanes,' as some school friends of mine used to call it," Purulence remarked. "They belonged to a medieval recreationist society and would go to places in costume and hold weekend tournaments." She grinned. "I don't think we need to dress up; we can just be ourselves."

 

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