anne, jesse & bobby – moonbase's vr room

[ensorceler]

memories in virtual reality; exsilium

It's picturesque almost, the way the scene is laid out: the grass is perfectly green and trimmed, the sky only carrying the occasional fluffy cloud meant to entice the imagination, and the temperature never seems too warm. In fact, there isn't even a breeze, and should one stand underneath the sun's rays for too long they needn't worry about burning. There is a reason it seems to be too perfect, and that's because it is. Everything is arranged just so, a painting in virtual reality, for the sake of one little boy about ten or eleven affectionately called Bobby. He's dressed as simply as one can be, whereas the two adults nearby wear their own signature garb. Jesse Pinkman may not dress as brightly as he once did, but his street clothes still seem more fitting to the scene than Anne's own. Her dress is nothing like what she wears in Teleios, more modest both in fabric and design, and only bearing one color: black. Despite the supposed state of mourning they all are practically dressed for, there are smiles on their faces and even laughter filling the air when someone speaks up.

Jesse seems to have his heart set on teaching Bobby how to skateboard, as the pack of cards that Anne brought sit aside ignored for now. It makes no difference to her, at least outwardly, that it's rather clear by the boy's body language or gaze he doesn't like her too close and favors most of Jesse's suggestions. Even when he smiles at her, it's always with less sincerity than what's offered Jesse. But her cheering seems no less earnest for it, and whenever the boy falls, she has to stop herself from getting up to rush over after the first time. Jesse clearly has it under control, and Bobby has never been a weak boy. Everything from his rough speech to his nervous laughter tells a life of hardship, even if he's now bathed and fed quite well.

At one point, Anne herself insists on giving the skateboard a try when Bobby seems convinced he won't get this ollie trick. It seems that while she may claim that her sword training has awesomely increased her balance and grace, the skateboard doesn't feel like proving her right. Merely trying to go forward ends in disaster, the skateboard horribly betraying the lady and sending her nearly flipping right over with a horrified yell. Her skirts suffer far more indignity than she does, but she looks as if to wish to be knocked out by the color of her cheeks when Jesse rushes to help her up. Bobby's moods seem right back up at the sight, and even if it's at her expense, his laughter is enough to make Anne smile at her own disgrace. Even Jesse can't stop his grin, but his touch is gentle as he checks to see if she's hurt. Anne doesn't try that again, instead curling back up against the picnic table where the chips and soda wait untouched.

After Anne's comedy routine (as it had been viewed by the boy), there seems little to stop Bobby's efforts in the continued lessons, and eventually his efforts are rewarded when he hops the skateboard up and over a curb, then back down in succession. This gets both Anne and Jesse to start to their feet, Anne applauding with the ferocity as if she'd just witnessed a good joust, and Jesse outright whooping, "Hell yeah!" before waiting for a high-five. Anne clearly wants in on the high-fiving as she also follows after, and even Bobby's willing to humor her this time! It's a moment in time when they all seem to align, when the differences in their backgrounds don't exist so glaringly, as they can come together in a small triumph meant only for the three of them. Perhaps a minute, trivial seeming lesson to be learned and gained in a bystander's eyes, but to them it seems to mean everything. It is everything, the memory of it, as it's the only real thing that exists for them when it's time to go.

When it's done and the picture is wiped away to reveal an empty room, the bright, clean shine of the walls contrasts against the three dark figures as even their smiles are forced to dim. Leaving this room means leaving a sanctuary, and even their structure shifts to allow this reality. Despite his tension around Anne, Bobby remains stuck to her side as Jesse unlocks and opens the automatic door. He glances out before nodding to them, and they follow with the calm faith of necessity, as if this is merely the way of things, and danger could be just outside of the room of ollies and high-fives. Jesse leads ahead of them and Anne walks with her cloak wrapped around the young boy walking at her side, one eye often cast over her shoulder until they reach their destination. If anyone is in danger, it isn't Anne or Jesse, but the boy.

Even if they seem resigned to that, the memory of the day is enough to keep their steps light and their whispers to one another more of forced humor than concern. When everything in this world continues to be wiped away by the follies of man, their memories are all they really have left to protect. Their memories and now Bobby's, and both Anne and Jesse seem to carry themselves with certainty in what they're willing to do to ensure for the little mismatched family.