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[sweetsalome]

Salome should be used to these little question sessions with her mother, they have been happening for as long as she was able to talk.  Just little sit downs, called, unexpectedly by Susan to talk about her favorite subject: Salome's father.  Sometimes she is incredibly annoyed by them, really, she gives no shits but if Susan wants so badly to know what is going on in Richard's life why doesn't she just bug his house and tap his phone like a sane woman?

It took Salome awhile to catch on, Susan can be subtle when she wants, and there was a certain bitter sadness when she put two and two together.  She didn't want to really hear about her boring day, she just wanted to hear about Richard.  At this point Salome has long stopped caring about her mother.  The reason why she is a daddy's girl is out of necessity, without him no one would pay any attention to her.

Her reaction to Delilah would probably have not been so violent if there was a more evenness in her life.  Oh well.

Whatever, sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a soda she just doesn't want to have to answer any questions about the recent appearance of bite marks on her skin.  God damn, you'd think the girls on the swim team had never seen a fucking hicky before.

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[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

Jerk, passing out on her like that. Though she might do the same. After a shower of course and then she will curl up with him and enjoy the comfort of some crummy hotel bed knowing that she gets to spend the rest of the week with just them. It will be the best thing ever. Also, they should totally stop and eat because if he doesn't feed her then she will be forced to eat his thigh or something and then there will be no one to blame but himself.

Seriously. She is a growing teenager and if she doesn't eat every couple of hours she will become unstable, like any good star and then explode. Or shrink down to a whit dwarf. Pretty to look at, but not very bright.

"I do have a cruel father, whatever shall I do." Her hand moves over his chest and she fiddles with the fabric of his shirt idly, her eyes opening and then closing in long, slow blinks. She probably shouldn't fall asleep in the car now otherwise she won't be tired when they get to the hotel.

Yeah. Right.

"She said something about how you shouldn't find out about it because you wouldn't like it. I told her that it was just some older boy who did it. I don't think she is very nice, I mean, she behaves like a high school enemy instead of a mom. Like she's just waiting for the right opportunity to crush me."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Ah, the dance of her fingertips across his chest--glory, plain and simple. He could kiss her hand down to the bone, even her fingerprints are beautiful.

Richard snorts at her description of Susan. "Your mother is...I shouldn't really say anything about her, babydoll, but she's just a very...competitive woman." She's a bitch, a raving, utter bitch and he'd like to hatefuck her until her pelvis shatters. "And even though you're her child, she probably views you subconsciously as a kind of threat. So take that as a compliment, if you can."

What kind of threat, he couldn't possibly imagine, although both parents are well aware of how easily Salome could be used against the other and it has produced a tense ceasefire, indeed. All Susan would have to do is throw out a few little implications about the real story behind Richard's mother's death, and all Richard would have to do is tell Salome all about how her mother is the real reason for his bad leg. Granted, crippling a man isn't quite on par with murder, but with as attached to him as Salome is, he wouldn't expect her to react very well to that little fun fact.

Still, he wants to save it until it's absolutely necessary. It's better that the girl remain uninvolved for as long as possible, and it's frankly a miracle that she is.

"But your mother cares about you very much. Now, she doesn't love you as much as I do," he offers a cheeky grin, "but I don't think anybody could love you as much as I do, babydoll. Maybe when you meet somebody who does you'll have my blessing to hold his hand on a date."

He chuckles, smirking as they pass a highway patrol officer's speed-trap, and sets the cruise control to have one less thing to worry about. "Your mother wouldn't crush you, though, don't worry." Mostly because she would gain nothing from it.

Unless Richard pissed her off. Then she would have no compunctions about making Salome suffer for it.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I don't really think that I can." It's a sort of cosmic what-the-fuck moment right there. What the fuck indeed. She is a seventeen year old girl and what sort of competition is she told that old bitch? "I really think that is incredibly fucked up, she isn't seventeen, does she know that?" She doesn't want to be in competition with anyone over anything, she doesn't like it, unless it's for sports that's something different, but really, her mother? What the fuck is that shit? She doesn't like it at all. Not even a little bit.

And now she can't sleep, she is troubled by the whole thing. And creeped out. She didn't like her mother before, but it is getting harder and harder to even pretend to do so. It's not just typical teenage stuff, there is some of that, but most of it is just a slow revelation to how fucked up she is. That revelation is muted when it comes to her father, mainly because he does shower her what she thinks is honest, genuine affection and kindness. She soaks it up, what she doesn't get from mom she can get from dad.

At the moment and any given moment later, she would have no problem destroying that bitch, she would love to do so actually.

Talking about the future doesn't really help with her feelings of isolation in her desperate cling to him. "I won't find anyone," because she can't imagine finding anyone who loves her like he loves her. Can't imagine him letting her actually be with someone other then him. Sure, it's nice to think and plan about, but she has a feeling down in her gut that she will spend the rest of her life as an outer planet.

She rubs her cheek up against his shoulder and turns her head to sink her teeth into him lightly before letting his shoulder go. "I'm not worried."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I think it's fucked up, too, baby." And you know when he thinks it's fucked up, there's a problem. He doesn't like the way Susan treats Salome from what he's seen and divined--as far as he's concerned, she may have carried the girl for nine months, but Salome is his. And while Susan agrees, she'd rather keep the girl to dangle her over his head then to completely give her over without a fight. "Yeah, she wishes she were still half as fine as you are. But it's like a...I don't know, a subconscious, Freudian thing. It's not intentional." Probably. "She's just still got the hots for me and she doesn't like anything that takes my attention from her. Or anybody's attention from her."

He'd pay good money to watch Salome destroy Susan. Hell, he'd give her tips, gleefully assist her. But there's still a big chunk of him that craves Susan like heroin, like cigarettes--something he knows objectively to be poison, but oh, fuck, it's good poison. The best. Besides, as dangerous as she is, she's also good at covering his ass when he's in a scrape, and she's a good source of income and support for both his daughter and his artwork.

But if he had half a chance and access to her money, he'd crush her windpipe without a second thought.

The trouble with Richard's feelings for Salome is that they are genuine--by his standards. By the standards of the rest of the world, they are hollow, depraved, vile and selfish, these feelings, this praise. But as his late mother always told him, one can only do one's best with what one can.

Oh, look at him justify.

"Well, maybe you will. Maybe not. People get all fucking wound up about not falling in love. It's good to be independent. And, you know, even if you don't find anybody, your daddy will always be here for you, baby. Until you find somebody who kisses the ground you walk on enough to be worthy of five minutes of your presence, I'll be glad to take care of you." Read: 'I'll be glad to possess and manipulate you', but it's about equivalent for him.

He grins at the way her teeth sink into him--that habit is so cute every time she does it he doesn't know whether to fuck her or cuddle her or both--and bends his head to kiss the bridge of her nose, and then her mouth. "I love it when you do that, princess." His nose brushing over hers, he lifts his head to gaze out over the road. "I'm glad you're not worried. That old bat's not worth worrying about. You're better than she is in more ways than I could count, so just remember that when she grates on your nerves. And, hey, you have to deal with her one day less a week now, you can't beat that."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"If she does, then why aren't you guys still together? There are better ways of winning a guy back then being a crazy bitch to your daughter. It doesn't even make a lick of sense." Salome will soon find that a lot of what goes on in their household doesn't make any sense at all. At least not from the outside. From the inside it will, sooner or later make sense, or be seen as normal. It's either adapt to the crazy environment or get out. But her father is here and she loves him and he is her sun, to be cut off from him would be like death and she can't imagine that for one second.

So she will cling to him and spend as much time with him as possible instead of in her mother's house. Or at least try to. It doesn't seem to Sal that Susan would be too mad at that, just as long as she has some sort of hold on her, like an owner letting it's puppy off the leash to wonder about in the backyard so it doesn't actually need to be walked.

If Salome is recognized as Susan's legitimate daughter, then any money that would come from Susan's death would be given to Sal. Unless there is a sort of trust or will set up that would name another beneficiary. So if Sal was set loose on the woman, and just so long as she was never caught, that money could very well end up coming back to Richard - in one way or the other.

Just saying. Food for thought.

"I want to be someone's one and only," she admits. "I want that, I don't think it's something I'll ever get but I want that. I know that you'll take care of me, dad, but there will always be someone else there, like Delilah. I know that. That's not ever going to change." Acceptance is the first step, right? She doesn't know where to go outside of that, but she feels a want to be the sun to someone's universe, not just an orbiting planet or moon.

She smiles when he kisses her nose and then when she tips her head up she takes his kiss and smiles once again against his mouth. "When I bite you? I like doing that, I want to be able to leave a mark on you one day, like you leave marks on me. I'm not worried about mom, I would just like to have some sort of relationship with her that doesn't involve fear of being eaten or used against you, that's all."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Because...things are more complicated than that." He picks his words with the utmost prudence, unwilling to reveal too much. "We are both very...intense people, and we are-- she does not feel I am worthy of her." He sighs, eyes rolling. "The situation was complicated. I had just turned seventeen when I met her, she was a mentor to me. But we had a falling out, and she decided that before I could become her peer, I needed to grow at a distance."

He remembers distinctly that last fight, after he'd come back from the ER in a wheelchair. She said, 'I find my gardens grow best when given minimal intervention.' And then, she left, and a few months later she came back with a baby, calling infant Salome 'a lesson in responsibility that you sorely require before you're worthy of so much as kissing my feet.'

The bitch. His fingers wrap tight around the steering wheel as if it were her throat. "It's complicated," he says again, adding, "I don't feel anymore the way I did for her then. I was a boy, she was the first woman who was genuinely interesting, it was stupid. But there's no point in regretting it, particularly since I ended up with you." He squeezes Salome and gives her an affectionate little glance before attending to the highway.

He's probably considered that, but he's also well aware that Susan has considered that as much as he has. For all he knows, her will states that her finances should be generously donated to some veterans' charity, or the ASPCA. The bitch covers any angle, and it's entirely like her that she should go out of her way to ensure that Richard would never gain so much as a cent in wake of her untimely demise. After all, she knows him well enough to know he would think just that way.

"Well, I'm sure you'll get it, princess. What man wouldn't want you?" He heaves a mild sigh at the mention of Delilah's name. There, too, is a situation fraught with complication. He is hungry for her, desperate for her, but if Salome could manage to be exactly what he needed then he would throw the woman over for his daughter in a heartbeat--the trouble is molding Salome into that which he craves, and the fact that there is a thrill in having access to three women at once, all three of whom symbolize something intensely different. And, the sad fact of the matter is that, even if Salome were his one and only, he would still be tempted to stray, and, moreover, still view her first and foremost as his daughter.

"I am a complicated man, Salome, and I require complicated things of my long-term lover. But you give me a thousand beautiful things that she couldn't," he adds, squeezing her, "so never feel jealous. The way you make me feel--Delilah could never hope to stir the tenderness in me that you do. But I understand wanting to be the center of someone's attention, I know that very well." He stares grimly upon the road, picturing Susan's face line for line, molecule for molecule. "But you shouldn't feel as though nobody will want you in the way you desire, because you are divine. Divine, divine." He places a sharp peck upon the crown of her head and focuses again upon the highway.

"So sink your teeth into me, sweetheart." There's no forethought into his statement, just gentle want, this moment of delirious intimacy on the hypnotic road the stretches on without end. "Leave your mark. It's going to be a week or more before anybody else sees my body, baby, there's no harm in leaving a bruise or scratch in the first few days."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

See, Salome can't imagine that. She can't imagine a sun like him not being the center of a persons universe. She can't imagine him not being worthy of someone else. In her mind, she can't picture anyone caring for Susan the way that he seemed to do. She has seen her with boyfriends, play things, but they never really lasted and Salome never got attached to them or paid them much mind. After awhile she learned to to grow attached to fading things and they would always just disappear after some time.

"I was a really cute baby," she tells him with a smile, her hand moving over his chest, petting and caressing him through his shirt as she smiles over the past. She likes that he views his past relationship not a waste because he got her out of the deal. That makes her feel warm and fuzzy all over. Because she likes to feel like she was something good that came out of that whole bitter affair. She still can't believe she came from that woman though. She can see herself as his child, she sees it in very real ways.

"There's a difference between wanting me and wanting me. It's a difference between wanting to fuck me and wanting to be with me. I mean I could probably get anyone to fuck me. Someone who will stick around and deal with my craziness is something that I want. Like you, you handle me. I want someone like you." It's probably best this way, it is one thing to know that she is precious to him and he has other women in his life, then to think that she is his one and only and then to find that she is not. That would destroy her in such a violent way, probably more so then when she first learned about Delilah. Slowly she is coming to learn the benefits of her position.

"I know, I'm not upset, I mean, I am learning, I am getting used to things and I think I am okay with things now. She's nice, I don't know if we'll ever be BFF's but I like what I am to you. I know that no one else can be like I am." She is his daughter, and he won't have another one, so she is cemented in a way that no other woman is in his life.

A smile and she pulls down the collar of his shirt and leans in to sink her teeth into his skin. Sucking on the salty taste of him, pulling at the skin as she inhales his scent and stretches to press her chest to his arm. Marking him in such a new, delicious way. "Mine. My papa." Her fingers move up the back of his head, disappearing into the dark hair of her father. "I love you because no matter what no one will ever replace what we are to one another."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

The truth is that Richard is a masochist, through and through, and the poison Susan offered him was more appealing than any dream he could have possibly conceptualized.

"You were, you were adorable, even to me. And I detest babies; even moreso when you showed up." Ah, yes, the warm and fuzzy bullseye. The truth is that she certainly is something good that came out of the nonsense, but still, every now and then he wishes Susan were never a part of his life. Of course, if it wasn't for her, and Salome, he'd be in prison. So, there are distinct benefits.

Often, he doesn't believe that Salome is Susan's. But it seems irrational to accuse the mother of being unrelated to her daughter, so he's pushed the moments of doubt aside and focused on the clear evidence of his own relation.

His tongue digs in against his teeth. Richard wants to be with her, but not in the way she wishes, so he lets it go. "You're not crazy, baby." That's a lie. "You're just a teenager." Truth. "You're too young to worry about all this bullshit, kitten, you're seventeen. Wait until you're my age to let it stress you out. I'm glad, though, that you're savoring every moment for what it is. Because it's the truth." His grip tightens. "There's nobody who could ever take your place. I'll never have another child, and even if, by some miracle--or nightmare--I did, then that child would never manage to compete with you. Never, ever." Certainly not anymore. "You're my darling Salome. It's impossible for you to have competition."

Then, she tugs down his collar, and her teeth sink in, and he groans softly while she suckles against his flesh. The fabric of her shirt gathers in his fist and he sighs sharply. "Oh, yes, baby, your papa, your daddy, nobody else's, never, no matter what." Her fingers creep into his scalp and his eyes roll. He hates letting the girl have such control over him, but oh, God, he can't help it. "You're more to me than you could know, my blood, my life, my darling daughter. Who else would I drive ten hours for?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"I bet you were not happy when I showed up. I understand that, if I got pregnant now I would not be happy at fucking all. I know that you probably could have ditched me, had nothing to do with me, but you didn't, you stuck around and I am really glad you did." She gives him a gentle kiss on his temple after that, it means a lot to her and he may or may not be able to understand that. Maybe he could, with his own father situation, she wants him to know that she doesn't take it for granted, even if she is crazy at time.

Because two absent parents and she wouldn't be half the person she is today, maybe she would have still had all those lessons and different things to keep her busy but she would be such a lonely and shy little girl, desperate for any affection. Though if Richard would have split Susan would probably have seen no use for the child and perhaps would have given her up, or just gotten rid of her totally.

Not that Sal has any idea that could have been one of the things that happened.

"I know all those things, sometimes I forget though, it's hard to keep things in perspective." Especially when someone shows up to make your father look and act all stupid. Things are starting to make sense now, in these clear moments when she is alone with him and they are talking like this. Things tend to get blurry and she loses direction when her emotions rule her behavior and she feels unglued and unhinged.

Her tongue moves over the mark she left on him, smoothing the bruised flesh, kissing it with a sigh. "I don't know, but she better have an incredible snatch for you to do so. Why didn't we just fly? We could have, you know. I like this, a road trip, everyone always talks about going on road trips but they never do." She is just stupidly happy to spend time with him, so, so happy.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

If she got pregnant now he'd probably choke her to death, but that's a whole different story. He simply chuckles at the very possibility, brushing it aside and shaking his head. "It was very odd, I'll say that much. After all, I was a nineteen-year-old boy. But I couldn't help but stick around."

And stick it to his own absent father in doing so. After all, he was much younger and much less well-equipped than Julius was at the time of his conception--and what better way to rub it in the old man's face, even if he wasn't looking? Besides, Salome was a girl. It struck him as particularly foolish and cruel to turn away a girl who hadn't done anything to earn it. In his own, nihilistic opinion, the greatest cruelty is existing in the first place, because it only guarantees further agonies; the greatest philosophical duty of a father to his child is to soften the damage already done.

The old man who died when she was two was a good influence in her life after all. And these days, there's not a single moment that he's anything but grateful for her presence in his life. Perversity is tenderness to him, and he is truly riveted by the bone-deep adoration that stings him when he looks upon her. The very idea of anyone being worth so much as a comparison to her--ridiculous. He remembers those chubby hands and fingers grasping at his nose, his keys, his jaw, and he remembers the mixture of disgust and fascination at the knowledge that this was his, his creation, his life, his legacy.

No. That kind of stunning, heavy moment is only capable of happening to him once. Salome has the title, and it's impossible that anybody could hope to compare. He'll let Delilah think that a child of hers could, but that's simply because she would go mad after all she's let slide.

"Such language." He laughs, shaking his head in as much disapproval as he can possibly manage. "I didn't want to fly because it's cheaper to drive, and I rather like driving. Just like I enjoy spending all this time with you." His hand slides down, resting in her lap to squeeze her knee. "It's important that you and I should bond, particularly in the way our relationship is blossoming. And what better way to do that than being stuck in a car with your dear old dad?"

Richard sighs heavily, leaning into the touch of her mouth. "I love you. I want to know you. I feel that I don't know you at all. You're a new person to me."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

If she got pregnant now she would certainly take care of it before he ever found out because that would mean that someone other then him has come inside of her and he has made it clear that no man should do so. Plus, she doesn't want to twist up her life in that kind of way at the moment, or, ever if at all possible. She doesn't see the appeal of children, they are messy, and noisy and don't do what you want them to do, why bother having any? That being said she is awfully glad he had her and did what she doubts she could ever do.

Cheek still on his shoulder she practically hugs his arm, keeping it close as she thinks about their conversation and where it is leading to her in her head. Generally they steer her toward memories of youth, growing up and being sometimes being small and moments that are so big she still remembers them. "I remember you took me to the first day of first grade, and I was so, so scared and I didn't want you to leave, but you promised me that I would have fun and that you would be there when I got out and you were, and I did. You were there, you didn't forget about me." Because there were times when she was forgotten, and on the Richter scale of childhood trauma that is pretty high up there. Comparatively speaking.

Laughing she lets her forehead press and roll over his shoulder as he reprimands her over her use of snatch. Very funny.

"I don't understand why you feel that you don't know me? You probably know me better then anyone else in the world, I mean you've been there from the beginning and I don't think I am a very deep well of psychological surprises."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Well-thought, Salome. Well-thought, indeed. Richard would be proud to know his daughter's thoughts on children. It would leave him with that secure, comfy feeling, reassured in knowing that he'd raised a sensible girl. Now and then he catches an episode of Maury and has nightmares, after all--a man needs to be comforted by the knowledge that his daughter isn't moronic.

"I remember that." Richard grins crookedly, helpless in the grip she has latched firmly around her arm. "You got all teary, it was adorable. I could have devoured you then and there." Those irresistible tears. Even then, especially then, he was helpless. Big, pure beads pure as water from the fountain of youth, they twisted his heart as soon as she was old enough to have a personality and haven't stopped doing it since. "How could I possibly forget about you? How could anyone?" Clearly, Susan has glossed over the days she's forgotten Salome at school. If she really wants to get her father riled up, she could tell him.

"I was stunned that day, it shocked me, how fast you'd already grown. Sometimes it still shocks me. Especially now." His smile widens and he nuzzles against her hair, straightening the path of the car between the lines. "You've certainly surprised me in the past week, Salome. You're--ah, my God. I can't comprehend it. I know you, I know that I know you. But I could never have anticipated...any of this."

His head tilts, his lungs swimming in the aura that surrounds her. "I feel I don't know you because of all this. I feel I don't know you because I never expected to fuck my daughter, to adore her so much, to suddenly find myself a thousand times more consumed by her than I ever was before." Lips brushing against her cheek, he hums and leans against her. "You're simply amazing to me, darling girl. That's all. You're a deeper well of psychological surprises than you might expect."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

When her father says things like that, that he could have devoured her right then and there she is pretty sure that he doesn't really mean that he could eat her. Pretty sure. Though sometimes he says things that make her wonder and then as soon as she does she sort of lets those thoughts go. Not every new mom who kisses her baby's foot or little hand and kisses all over their little piggies and fingers threatening to "gobble them up" really want to actually eat their child. Some may, let's not pass judgment, but still, it's usually used as a term of endearment.

He does like biting though. So, there's that.

She likes it when he leans into her and kisses her in some way, nuzzles her, those little gentle touches mean the world to her. She strokes the arm that she is currently hugging, leaning into him the same way that he leans into her, and she likes that, a lot. A drive was a good idea, better then flying.

"I will take it as a compliment that I have been able to hide my true want from you, not that I ever had an obvious plan to get with you. It was more like fantasies that I didn't think I would ever be able to act out and then the opportunity presented itself and I just figured that I had nothing to lose." They have always been physically close, there has always been hugging and kisses, stuff like that, so in some ways she was sated and kept at ease with what she already had.

Her fingers go back up to playing and touching his hair as she smiles into his bicep at his generous praise of her. "Can this deep well of psychological surprises get something to eat? I totally want french fries right now." Deep.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

It means a lot of things. Of course, though, why would he actually eat her in a literal way? No, no, certainly not. Probably. Maybe. Although sometimes he found himself fighting the urge to just sink his teeth right into her. Nibble her up. Even now she makes his jaw ache.

But that's ridiculous. Just a silly instinct to be ignored, no matter how unbearable it is.

He grins, flattered as he shakes his head. "Such fantasies, my God. It's touching, baby, as much as it is inappropriate to think such thoughts about your father. Tsk." Chuckling, he rests his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm glad that you did what you did. No matter the cause, the important part is that it happened, and continues to happen. This...ah." A sigh heaves from him. "I can't articulate it, Salome. My girl."

So strange, to have her as a lover, to be whisking her off to a beach where their relationship needn't be completely hidden. Every second off it is beautiful, something to be savored completely. The power aspect to all of it is undeniable as it is desirable, but beyond that, there's the simple fact that she is something outside his greatest imagination. It makes sense, he supposes. Because, yes, Salome never wanted for physical affection when it came to her father, and one thing bleeds into another.

Laughing, Richard glances at the nearest roadsigns and nods. "I suppose we can do that. I'm starving, myself, you do a good job of stirring a man's appetite. I think there's a steakhouse somewhere around here." He lifts up the armrest and whips out a map, spreading it out on the dashboard as best he can with one hand. Eyes flickering across the paths, to the roadsigns before them, and back to the map, he tucks it away and takes the next exit ramp. "Can you go five minutes without starving to death, babydoll?"

Yes, yes. This place should do just fine when it comes to embarrassing her with cake and singing. Just as planned.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Maybe it's just in my DNA, something I got from you and there was no helping it, it just happened and now you're stuck with it." Though he doesn't seem to unhappy about being stuck with it and neither does she. For as much time as she spends on thinking about how wrong it is, it certainly doesn't feel wrong or shameful. Then again there isn't a lot of behavior that has ever been branded "shameful" in the Vasko household, which is actually nice in a way, because while she might be raised with certain tendencies she was also raised rather openly. Not a whole lot of things bother her or press her to condemn or judge a person.

Something she thinks makes her a pretty good human being.

"Steak . . . ." And she makes that considering face. They probably have french fries and they probably have salad too. Well fuck, she had chicken that night that Delilah came over. What the hell, being a vegetarian is really hard work! She lets go of his arm enough so they can spread out the map and she has no idea what the hell she is even looking at. "I think that could be arranged, I can wait five minutes but any more time then that and I will probably die. Then you would have to surf with my dead body and that's probably not any fun."

Though you never know.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"That's entirely possible, I suppose. I'm afraid that's the case with many of your traits, my dear."

Shame...ful? What is this 'shameful'? Christ, life's too short to take shame in anything. Don't like the way something turned out? Deal with it and move on without looking back. There's no reason to get too obsessed with something like guilt or shame or regret. What's in the past isn't worth worrying about, nor what's in the future. And even the present is in a permanent state of decay, but that simply makes it more delightful. A wealth of opportunities.

Richard would make a good Buddhist, if he weren't such a perverted, hateful sadist.

"Hey, it'd make a good replacement board depending on the state of it." He laughs at his own joke, waggling his eyebrows while they drive through one of those odd little trucker towns consisting of motels, McDonald's, family restaurants, hookers, and adult bookstores. "Rigor mortis would pose stiff competition to any balsa wood out there."

Making a rimshot noise from the corner of his mouth, Richard guides the car into the barking lot of one of the family steakhouses in the area and sniggers all the way into park, practically falling out of the car. He drapes himself forward as if his hip were a hinge, his back cracking viciously, the stiff bite of his leg a thousand times worse after time spent in the car.

Fuck, the first day in Virginia is going to be spent with him in a warm bed. Beach, what beach?

Rolling his shoulders, he makes his way for the door, smiling at Salome. "Let's get a table, then you can go ahead and wash up after all that time in the car." And he can inform the waitstaff of the fact that there is a birthday girl present among them. Sabotage.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"It's worse, I could be just like mom." For all they know she is, except Susan isn't her mom, some other lady is and perhaps that's where Sal gets her conscious and empathy from. Maybe it came from TV. Or from her friends or her friend's family, kids pick up a lot when they are growing, every place is a source of information.

That line? That line needs to go on a tee-shirt. Except it could be more general, I would make a good Buddhist, if I weren't such a perverted, hateful sadist. That shirt would probably sell like hot cakes. Not because there are a lot of hateful sadists out there but because it's funny and everyone is a pervert, deep down.

Shame is for people who are unable to enjoy life and feel that other people should be crippled with the same affliction.

"Oh dad that's fucking gross," seriously, what the hell? Salome makes a face and then laughs. "Don't, just don't think about that any more, let me give you a new mental image to chew on, not my stiff corpse." Phrasing. Her dad is so weird.

And it is going to be so nice to get out of the car and stretch her legs. Stepping out after he parks she does stretch, long, long, arms reaching toward the sky and she takes a deep breath in and then reaches down to touch her toes. That feels really, really good. Working those muscles before moving over to his side of the car to see if he needs any help getting out of the car. Poor old man.

She knows that his leg gets stiff when they are in the car for too long. "Yeah, I should really wash up." Inside the restaurant she spots the restroom sign and moves from his side to go use the ladies.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"Oh, God, don't even joke about that." He shudders at the very thought of there being more than one Susan--not that her royal highness would allow such a thing to happen. She would have foreseen it and smothered her successor before the babe even had a chance to crawl. Thankfully, though, if she takes after any mother, it's her real one, who, despite being a stripper and probably a whore, was a fairly sweet girl. Not the smartest, but still a decent lady.

If Richard knew the truth of Salome's origin, some things would make a hell of a lot more sense, that's for damn sure. Most significantly, her hair color, which is still the biggest mystery he's ever encountered, right up there with her empathy.

Her reaction to his joke is worth another burst of laughter all on its own. "You have only yourself to blame, babydoll, you leave yourself wide open for these jokes and expect me to not go for them."

Someday she'll learn that the pleasure of making terrible, horrible jokes is right up there with his penchant for murdering hookers.

Adjusting his shoulders and nick, Richard pats Salome in silent thanks for her sweet but wholly unneeded assistance. He's too proud for that. Really, he should probably use a walking stick on worse days, but he'd rather be crippled and silently pained than show any outward sign of weakness. Instead of completely accepting her help, he simply kisses the corner of her mouth, his lips lingering before he pulls away.

Of course, as soon as they're in the restaurant and she darts off, he drops himself into a booth with a relaxed sigh. Even this little hellhole is better than the car, and as the too-peppy waitress comes by to take his drink order, he points to the bathroom and sketches her a brief outline of the situation. That girl he came in with? Yes, it happens that it's her birthday. Do you do cakes and maybe sing? Yes? Wonderful. If you could bring it out once the entree is finished, that would be perfect.

The waitress gives a cheesy wink and scribbles something down while Richard orders a couple of sodas, constantly glancing between the woman before him and the door of the ladies' room. She bustles off, then, party to his conspiracy, and he settles back to let his eyes close for just sixty sweet seconds.

Everything is proceeding as he has foreseen.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I know, I creeped myself with that one too." It's like a cold chill goes through her at the idea of that. If she was like that she probably wouldn't know how horrible it was but since she isn't like that and can see her mother clearly, she knows how unpleasant that would be. Not only to other people in general but to her father and of course she is daddy's girl, hurting him is an impossible thing that would break her in two.

Except for when she wants to strangle the life out of him and beat him to death with something heavy and useful. Even that she is trying to forget. Thankfully he didn't take it personally, her wanting to hurt him like that, it would have been really bad if he had because then she would feel guilty. So, so guilty. In the end, he was right, it doesn't make sense to end his life, not when they have so much fun together. In the heat of the moment that wasn't what she was thinking though, she was thinking about how good it would feel and how the pain would all end if he was gone.

Causation or correlation? It could be that the reason why Carrot Top sucks so bad in his jokes is because he kills a lot of hookers.

He is too proud indeed, but she will try and take care of him whether he likes it or not, and she will dote after him because she loves him and tries to be a decent daughter. Once he is inside and in the capable hands of the hostess she takes some time to clean up in the bathroom, she is pretty sure her bra is inside out. After washing up she feels pretty much like a brand new person, completely unaware to the shenanigans her father is getting up to outside with the waitress.

Slipping into the other side of the booth she sighs and reaches for the menu. "I want to eat ALL the things."

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

Well, y'know. Teenagers, mood swings. One minute the daddy's girl is trying to give her father road-head, the next minute she's ready to choke him to death with his own belt. She'll probably level out eventually. He did, after all, even if he still has that build-up of rage and bile that needs to be released every once in a while. And in light of that, how could he possibly take it personally?

Now, if it happens again, he's probably going to be a little annoyed. But that's what fatherhood is about. Patience, and gently guiding one's rage-prone daughter through her homicidal urges. At least, when they're directed toward him.

Still, like a mildly retarded child with nerve damage, Richard can't help but put his hand repeatedly upon any hot stove he stumbles across. Susan is just such a stove, and if Salome took after her, he'd probably put his hand on her just the same. Granted, he's not exactly one to let his daughter push him around, so there would probably be a great deal of far uglier conflict in their lives, and Susan would be much fonder of her than she is now.

It's far better this way. He loves her sweet with the occasional hint of rabid fury. Even if the amount of energy she possesses is going to kill him just by proximity, like a star pulling in any comet that hurtles too close. Richard barely manages to lift his hand from his eyes when she bursts into the booth, peeking between his fingers to chuckle.

"Don't eat too much, baby, I don't need you getting carsick." Or failing to leave room for over-priced cake. Flipping page by page through the menu, he drapes his forearms upon the edge of the table and heaves a sigh. "Jesus, wake me up when we're in Virginia, you can drive the rest of the way. You've knocked me out, sweetheart."

Cradling his forehead in his hand, Richard shuts the menu and sets it aside to sit up and wait for the return of his co-conspirator, who flashes them both an extremely wide, knowing smile while she gives them their drinks and takes their orders. Luckily, it's the sort of grin easily mistaken for country hospitality.

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

The next time she gets like that she is going to try and learn from her father and what he told her, find an appropriate outlet. If she has a car she can go to the pool and swim it off, which probably be the least damaging of her options. More and more she feels that she would love to take it out on her mother. That seems like an appropriate target, not a very fucking smart one, but there are times that she would like nothing more then to make her hurt for all the shit she has put Sal and her father through.

It seems like a bad idea though, like kicking a pit bull, and then offering it your hand. It just seems like a really bad idea but one of those bad ideas that you should just totally indulge in. She would much rather do that then hurt her father even if he is doing something that is hurting or upsetting her.

"Really? Oh my god can I drive?" Because that's what every teenager wants for their birthday. She has been driving, got her learners permit and everything, and it's not like there is a lot of dangerous road between here and Virginia beach, mostly flat highway driving, Pennsylvania sucks but it's not that bad as long as you're paying attention and not groping your father.

"I promise I will throw up everything I eat before we get on the road," serious nod as she scans the menu till she finds what she wants. So she orders a coke and a medium rare steak with the steamed veggies and salad to start. It's a small cut of steak so she can probably manage at least most of what she ordered. She is a growing teenager!

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

If Richard ever heard that, it would take all the self-control in the world to keep from encouraging her. Maybe once they've managed to net her more time with her father than with her mother, he will. Or once he's finally lost what's left of his sense of self-preservation when it comes to Susan.

If things get worse--say, if Susan figures out what's going on between the two of them, which he's certain she won't--then Salome's desires to lash out against her mother may prove a useful weapon, indeed.

Oh, God, he was joking, he wasn't really serious about letting her drive, but she's so cute when she's excited about something like this. And he'll be in the passenger's seat and everything, so she just needs to not get them pulled over, or crash the car into one of the many oh-so-sightly farms littering Ohio and West Virginia. When they get through certain areas of Appalachia, he'll probably insist on switching back, but there's no harm in letting her drive for an hour or so.

Probably.

"Oh, yeah, sure, babydoll, you can drive for a bit." Usually the point of having other people drive is to relax. Sadly for Richard he doesn't see that in the cards. "Just be careful."

With a grin, he places his order after hers--which he describes to the waitress as a steak he wants cooked 'as rare as you can without violating a health code or killing me'--and then turns to her with an arched brow. "A medium rare steak? Why, but I thought you were a vegetarian! Some poor cow died and you're just feasting on its corpse. Tsk." Chuckling, he sips his drink and says, "Just save room, we might get desert. The sign in the front claims the pie here is good."

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Of course I'll be careful, I am always careful, dad." And she squeals and claps her hands in excitement, bouncing around a little bit in her seat. Yay! Driving! She is at that age where driving is actually a fun thing and she wants to be able to drive and get her proper drivers license. The freedom that goes with that will be amazing in her opinion. She can't wait to be able to get out of the house whenever she wants, and to be able to drive to school sometimes and then take herself to and from practices. It will be so much nicer then having to depend on someone all the time. That seriously sucks.

She rolls her eyes at him when he makes a comment about the dead cow. "It's my birthday and the cow is already dead so I may as well enjoy it and honor it for it's noble sacrifice for my belly and deliciousness." Because a well cooked steak, properly seasoned is a gem to be prized and worshiped.

Seriously, all tender and juicy, the perfect amount of pink in the middle. It's wonderful. Plus she'll have a salad and veggies so it will all balance out in the end.

She sips her coke when the waitress comes back with it, and begins to drizzle dressing over the rather plain house salad that is set down in front of her. Stretching her legs out she puts her feet on either side of him and smiles.

[soursanguine.livejournal.com]

"I know, kitten, I just don't want us crashing or being pulled over, I'm obligated to say it." Aw yeah, that's another point in the awesome dad side of the scoreboard. Look at that reaction, he couldn't ask for better. It's too bad he doesn't have his phone out to take video yet, although he will once the main course is finished. Because sometimes a reaction just needs to be immortalized, like when hillbillies sing you happy birthday. Maybe the next time she misbehaves he'll put it on Youtube for her friends to see.

Christ, if he'd known last year that all Salome wanted for her birthday was to drive a little and get laid, it might have saved him a shitload of money on presents. It's like all those times in her early childhood where a cardboard box was as exciting as the thing that came in it.

Grinning, Richard reaches across the table to pat her hand. "I'm so glad you're coming to your senses about the vegetarian nonsense. That's the spirit, babydoll."

Those feet appear on either side of him and he laughs, his hand resting upon one of her ankles. "Goddamn, Salome, what could possibly have you in such a good mood?" He waggles one theatrical, teasing brow while giving her ankle an affectionate squeeze. "I mean, it's not as if you like your birthday or anything. Why, I seem to recall you saying to Delilah that you made an effort of not getting too excited about it. So what could get you behaving so adorably, hm?"

[sweetsalome.livejournal.com]

"Oh well let's not go that far, I still think meat is unhealthy and immoral, but I am also of the belief that you should partake in the culture of the people that you're around." Clearly steakhouses are now considered a foreign culture. It's kind of like going to China and asking for a cheeseburger at every meal, that's just rude and you'll be missing out on so many things. You can't go to a steakhouse and order a veggie burger, well you probably could but the chef would probably spit in it. And then you'd have hillbilly HIV and there is just no bouncing back from that. Plus, there is something really nice about a well cooked steak. It's a special occasion.

Her feet rub up against his thighs as she lifts her eyebrows at her father. Generally it is considered bad manners to use a teenagers words against them because it makes the moody and cranky, but then again everything makes a teenager moody and cranky. "I am delirious with hunger, clearly my euphoria is a sign of immanent death. Like when people suffer from hypothermia get really really warm and feel like they should take off all their clothes to cool down. Also: got some sex on the way here so clearly my brain chemistry is all off. Basically I'm insane and not in my right mind, and it's all your fault."