#merriam

Merriam nodded, the merest flicker of something that could have been a smile across her face. “I... see.”

Kari frowned, tensing, but Merriam made a few notes and nothing more.

“What’s your favourite journey?”

“I like the walk up the Law,” Kari replied, turning her cup on its saucer. “Although Riverside isn’t so bad, if the road’s quiet.” She frowned. “Haven’t been either place in a while. Kinda icy, I guess.”

Merriam looked up, over the edge of her glasses, and studied her.

Kari shifted. “What?”

“When and where were you the happiest?”

“Is this genuinely one of your questions?” Kari reached for the piece of paper.

Merriam pulled it back out of reach. “Yes.”

“Jesus, fine.” Kari lifted her hands, rolling her eyes as she pulled them back. “So. Uh. Kicking back with ‘Fern and the others in the basement.”

“Can I have... some explanation on that?” Merriam was writing again, her free hand holding the sheet of questions down.

“Dude. We’re sixteen? We just watched films, played games, music, chatted. No wild parties, no... whatever you’re assuming.”

“I wasn’t assuming anything.” Merriam didn’t look up.

Kari snorted. “Sure.”

Merriam didn’t argue the point. “What is your most treasured possession?”

Kari started to answer, but cut herself off and looked to the side, frowning. “I guess... I guess the feather ‘Fern left us. Katie sealed it to keep it safe and gave it me for Christmas just past.”

“A feather?” Merriam did look up at that, her pen poised.

“Yeah.” Kari turned back to meet her gaze. “A feather. Wild, right? It’s not like I’m a featherweight boxer or anything.”

Merriam sighed.

Kari grinned. “That was ‘Fern’s favourite joke. Probably why she gave us the feather.”

Merriam flipped her page, although there was still room on the first. “Can we... talk about Ifernia?”

“What? No.” Kari frowned and rested her wrist on her knee, the other hand in the crooked of her elbow.

“She’s obviously someone you’re close to-”

“And you said this wasn’t about her, so.” Kari grinned without any humour. “C’mon, we’re talking about me here. I’m in the limelight.”

“I do believe the two of you are more intricately wound than you’re-”

“Walk on, buddy.” Kari wasn’t grinnng now. “Nothing more about ‘Fern, alright?”

“Alright,” Merriam muttered, flipping back the page.  

“Good.” Kari settled back, relaxing. “What’s your next question?”

Merriam sighed and glanced down her list. “On what occasions do you lie?”

Kari laughed. “How d’you know I’m not lying now?”

“Well if you are-” Merriam made as if to leave.

“Nah, I only lie when it’s important.” Kari waved at her to keep sitting. “You know; skipping class, covering a friend, backing their play... the usual.”

“What do you mean, backing their play?”

“You know, if they’re in trouble and spinning a story? You go along with it and don’t rat them out.”

Merriam nodded. “Ok... which words or phrases do you most overuse?”

“I... guess I say ‘walk on’ a lot? It’s possibly my trademark now though, so can I really overuse it?”

“Not ‘like’, then?” Merriam let out a small laugh. “I suppose you haven’t used it as much as I might expect.”

“Don’t be pithy, ‘like’s a filler word. Thinking space. Whatever.” Kari snorted. “We all have those and it’s ridiculous y’all shit on us for using more obvious ones.”

Merriam half rolled her eyes and made a couple more marks on her pad, finally filling the page and flipping it over.

“Well they’re not exactly a sign of being dumb. If we need time to focus our next words then we need time to focus our next words.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point. What’s your most marked characteristic?” Merriam didn’t look up.

Kari blinked, shaking her head. “Uh.” She slowly grinned. “Have you looked at me? Gotta be these guns.” She slipped off her jacket to flex her arm, showing off her muscles.

Merriam snorted. “If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?”

“Was I too mean?”

“Answer the question.

“Huh.” Kari took a slow drink. “I guess I’d change... I could really totally do with more confidence.” She grinned.

Merriam snorted again, picking up her tea for a careful drink.

“What, you don’t believe me? Oh, fine. Maybe a bit more height. No, wait, lower centre of gravity is better for fighting. Yeah, I’m good.”

“Alright... and what talent would you most like to have?”

“Like something I don’t have to work at?” Kari wrinkled her nose. “Valueless without work. But I guess... I wanted to be a gymnast, when I was younger. But man that’s hard. Maybe a talent for that would be nice.” She laughed. “Or maybe I could’ve just worked harder, right?”

“Maybe.” Merriam dipped her head. “You don’t like things being based purely on talent?”

“I... guess?” Kari shrugged. “I mean yeah sure maybe we are predisposed to be better at some things than others, but ehhhhh.” She craned over the table. “Are you writing that down?”

“I thought it answered my next question well enough. Something you most dislike?”

“Ok, fair, it... sorta fits.”

“Does something else fit better?” Merriam looked up, raising an eyebrow.

“I dislike people picking on the younger kids, it’s shite as fuck, ken.” Kari leant back, folding her arms. “Because we’re doing the best we can with what we got, but ok it isn’t a standard family so it’s just – an easy target, I guess.” Kari snorted. “Jerk ass morons.”

Merriam set down her pen and reached for her cup. “You went through the same?”

“Who, me? The Black lesbian from a broken family? No.” She drew out a ridiculous gasp, hand on her chest. “Why d’you think I learnt to fight.”

“I’m... sorry for that.” Merriam set her cup down, having barely taken a sip.

Kari shrugged. “They’re learning. Next question?”

“Right.” Merriam studied her list. “What are your favourite names?”

“For... calling people? Like nicknames? Insults? That isn’t super specific, is it?” Kari took a sip. “I like to get inventive when I’m yelling at people, though, so it really depends on the circumstance. How I’m feeling. What they’ve done. Et cetera, et cetera.” She waved her hand in a carry-on motion.

Merriam reshuffled her pages as she wrote, ticking off the questions. “What do you consider your greatest achievement?”

Kari tipped her head back. “Ohhh man yeah that first day with Katie. Like I knocked that thing out the ballpark. Dinner, movies, flowers, the works.” She squinted over at Merriam. “Wait you did say gayest, right?”

Merriam sighed and shook her head.

“My bad. Greatest? Uh... probably that time I laid Billy out? Buddy was asking for it, so ya know.” She grinned. “Dumbass couldn’t catch these hands.” She shifted forward to pick up her cup. “Although that wasn’t a challenge as such, it was just so satisfying.”

 “I suppose that works.”

“Hey, you don’t get to judge what works for me.” Kari glared over the rim of her cup.

“Alright, alright.” Merriam shook her head. “What - or who – is the greatest love of your life?”

“Gotta be the girlfriend, right?” Kari grinned, setting her cup down.

“I said greatest-”

“I know, but I’m like sixteen and I haven’t done much, so it’s a fair answer.” Kari shrugged. “It’s valid. She is a delight.” She glanced over at Katie, who was serving a customer.

When Katie glanced over the customer’s shoulder, Kari made a love heart with her hands and winked. Katie smiled and shook her head, focusing back on the customer.

“Your greatest extravagance?”

“Whole lotta gay in this, isn’t there? Did you tailor it specially for me?”

Merriam stared at her, deadpan, over the top of her glasses.

“Take all the fun out of life, why don’t you.” Kari laughed. “Probably my boxing gear, like you can’t skimp on that. I mean I did at the beginning, and... well, I learnt that lesson.”

“What is your greatest fear?”

Kari leant across the table, grinning. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

Merriam sighed.

“If I become a famous boxer and some dude takes it on himself to mansplain how boxing works.” Kari shrugged, drawing back.

“I get the feeling you aren’t taking this seriously.”

“I am! That’s totally a great fear! Maybe they’ve never mansplained journalism to you but damn. I hope they never do.”

Merriam hummed. “What is your idea of perfect happiness?”

Kari stared at her, head half-tilted. Then she snorted and relaxed into her seat, hand resting on her knee. “I’m head boy... I’m holding the quidditch cup, and... bloody hell! I’m quidditch captain, too!” She grinned at Merriam, who’s staring at her. “I don’t look half bad, either.” She winked.

“Kari.” Merriam sighed, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Merriam.” Kari laughed. “Hey, it’s a dumb question! Kicking back with Katie for an all-nighter of films and sugar sounds good right now, but that’s gonna change, isn’t it?”

“That’s a good point, but it doesn’t mean you have to make a mockery of this.”

“Am I supposed to take it super seriously?” Kari shifted. “Because I probably can but...”

“Never mind, then.”

“This is more true to life, anyway.” Kari grinned.

Merriam looked further down the list and tapped at it with her pen. “What’s your current state of mind?”

“Is this a psych eval? This feels like a psych eval. Is this because of the missing sister thing? Or that time I punched your cop buddy?”

“Well, if you want to talk about Ifernia...” Merriam motioned as if to turn the page over.

“I don’t, really.” Kari put out a hand to stop her. “Currently, I am very satisfied with this chai, amused by the questions, and looking forward to training. That work?”

Merriam nodded, setting pen back to paper. “When... when did you punch Cooper?” Her voice was carefully disinterested.

“Uh... couple... months ago...?” Kari shrugged. “Down by the Discovery. She probably wasn’t asking for it, but I wasn’t thinking.”

“Would you say that’s something bad about yourself?”

“What?”

“Your tendency to punch first. Is that a negative trait you should work on?”

“I mean... I guess I do punch people more often than I talk to them about shit.” Kari rubbed at the back of her head.

“Do you punch people because you despise them?”

“I... don’t really despise people? Haven’t got time for that. Homework makes it hard – now homework, I despise that. Especially when it’s added to ‘oh, just finish what you didn’t in class and these extra-whatevers' because hey, I got eight classes to study for. Eight! And they all give homework and they all make us catch up and there just isn’t enough time for that shit. Homework’s just another word for anxiety and stress.” Kari nodded.

“You... feel strongly about that.”

“Schooling’s useful but it’s tailored to one specific type of person and we ain’t all that. Society doesn’t need just that so they should stop fixing us all to aspire to it.” Kari shrugged. “Catch my drift?”

“Ever thought about being a councillor?”

“Nope.” Kari snorted. “That’s a terrible idea and we all know it.”

“Ok, you just have... very strong feelings. Got it.” Merriam gave a soft laugh, scanning down her page.

“Chaotic good, that’s me.” Kari grinned, tapping her chest. “Do not write that part down.”

“I’m not going to claim to understand that, anyway.” Merriam shrugged. “So... what is the trait you most deplore in others?”

“Deplore.” Kari whistled out her breath. “Huh.” She tapped at the edge of her cup. “I guess... I don’t like cowardice? But I can understand it. I can understand not wanting to draw attention to yourself.”

“You just... don’t go that route.”

“Fuck no.” Kari laughed. “’Sides, if I draw their fire that means someone else is out of range.”

“I never thought of it that way.”

Kari shrugged. “I’m currently the eldest, so... I look after the others.”

“Would you expect that of your friends?”

“Huh?”

“Is that part of something you’d expect of your friends, willingness to stand in the line with you?”

“Not... really?” Kari rubbed at the back of her head. “I don’t expect that, nah. If they can put up with my bullshit, that’s good enough.” She laughed at Merriam’s expression. “Loyalty. And the ability to call each other out if we’re being dumbasses.”

“Are you... dumbasses often?”

“Only when the mood takes us.” Kari grinned. “We’re young, ya know? Sometimes it’s better not to think about shit and just do.”

“As long as it’s nothing illegal.”

“Says the journalist who has absolutely kept her nose clean all the long days of her career.” Kari snorted.

“What exactly do you mean to insinuate?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You haven’t exactly been above board in everything you’ve done in the past two months, let alone the year.”

“I have done nothing illegal.”

“Just highly questionable. Got it.” Kari didn’t quite scowl, but her face flattened.

Merriam set down her pen. “If you’re just going to sit there and make thinly veiled allusions to how much I’ve done everyone over, I don’t see why we should continue this interview.”

Kari shrugged. “You’re saying that like it’s a bad thing for me. Isn’t this your job?” She rolled a spoon between her fingers. “I don’t entirely understand why you chose me to do this, since... well, you know. Ifernia and all.” She looked up. “Or is that why you chose me? Still trying to find out what really happened?”

“There’s been a cover up and you know it.”

“She jumped,” Kari said, leaning across the table, “Into a burning building.” She set the spoon down with a definite click. “Does that not answer your question?”

“She was seen after that.”

“Yeah, with a dude dressed all in white with white wings. You do realise what that sounds like, right?”

“And you believe that?”

“Believe - buddy, I was there.” Kari tightened her hands about her cup. “I saw her jump-”

“Can I take your cups? If you’re finished with them, of course.” Katie laid a hand on Kari’s shoulder, staring at Merriam with the slightest of glares.

Merriam glanced into her cup and lifted her teapot. “I’m still using mine, thank you.” She poured herself out another cup.

“Kari?”

Kari tilted her cup to show the chai still in it. “I’m very tempted to down it and go.”

“Honestly, you’re the one that keeps bringing up Ifernia.”

Kari clicked her jaw shut and looked away.

“And you’re the adult here,” Katie said. “You should stick to what was agreed. She said she didn’t want to talk about Ifernia, right? So don’t.”

“I dislike leaving a story unfinished.”

”Ifernia’s is finished,” Katie replied. “It’s a hard life.”

“Alright.” Merriam glanced down at her list of questions. “If you’re ok with answering the rest of these?”

Kari gestured. “Go on, then.”

Katie squeezed her shoulder and moved on to clear other tables.

“What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?”

“If I have to read another old straight white dude’s dramatic whiny poetry about how the love of his life has left him behind.” Kari tapped her fingers against the table. “They all need to walk on and quit whingeing. I doubt it’s the worst thing that’s ever happened.”

“Spoken like someone who’s never been dumped.”

“If I ever react like they’d have you believe they did? It’s probably a good thing.”

“What quality do you like in a man?”

“Am I being too mean to them?” Kari rolled her eyes as she picked up her cup. “That’s a shame.”

“You are being... militant about it.”

“I like them when they stop and listen and don’t try to explain things away. Or to take themselves out of the line of fire. They all need to step up and fix things, not duck out because they would never.”

Merriam dipped her head in a sort of acquiescence. “And... the quality you most like in a woman?”

Kari snorted and grinned, setting down her cup. “Where to start. We probably don’t have the time for the whole list, let’s be real.”

Merriam smiled briefly. “If you had to sum it up.”

“Women are – we're strong because we have to keep fighting. And we look out for each other. And they’re more likely to listen to discussions and come back wiser or with an intelligent rejoinder or whatever.”

“Alright... and who is your favourite hero of fiction?”

Kari frowned. “I... I guess Yeine Darr.”

Merriam raised an eyebrow.

“From Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, by N.K. Jemisin? She’s this girl that comes out of the back end of nowhere to the court because she’s invited, and finds herself catapulted into a battle for succession to the throne. Ends up a goddess, I think. It’s been a while.” Kari rubbed at the back of her head. “Goals though, right?”

“Right. Heroes in real life?”

“Nicola Adams. You do know who she is, right?”

“I’ve heard of her.”

“She’s gonna do great things.” Kari tapped her fingers against the table. “And one day, I’m gonna fight her.”

Merriam actually laughed. “She the reason you got into boxing?”

Kari frowned. “Nah, didn’t I say already? That was Brandon. One of the older foster kids. Gonna fight him, too, next time I see him. He owes me a fight.” She pulled out her phone. “You don’t mind, do you?” She started a text. “Just gonna see when he’s next in town, haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Which living person do you most admire?”

“That sounds like the same question.”

“I assure you, the intention is different.”

“Thornton.”

“What?”

“Thornton.” Kari glanced up from her phone. “You know. Foster carer? She’s done a lot for us.”

“That would be... Alice Thornton, yes?” Merriam flicked back a couple of pages to scan her notes.

“Yup. You’ll have met briefly, right?”

“Briefly,” Merriam agreed. “What’s your greatest regret?”

Kari slid her phone back into her pocket. “That I never knew my father.”

Merriam hesitated, pen on paper.

Kari laughed. “Nah, shitting you, don’t write that down.” She shifts, rubbing at her knee. “I mean I didn’t, not really, but that’s not a big deal. I don’t know.” She tips her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Man, I don’t know. I guess maybe I didn’t spend enough time with Brandon before he left? But hey.” She patted at the pocket her phone’s in. “Always time to fix that.”

“You’re... really put together for a teenager.”

“Well, like you say – I'm a teenager. I haven’t done much stupid shit I regret, yet.” Kari grinned. “There’s still time.”

“You expect to do many stupid things?”

“Well...” Kari wavered her hand. “Doesn’t hurt to keep the options open, right?” She took a drink.

Merriam laughed and shook her head. “What do you consider the most overrated virtue?”

“Plato’s, Romanic, or Heavenly?”

Merriam looked up, raising an eyebrow.

Kari laughed. “Hey, I don’t do all the homework, but I listen. I don’t think any of them are... overrated as such, but chastity has made it super fucking hard for ace people to assert their identity without being called special snowflake hets, or whatever.” She frowned. “It’s dumb and everyone should feel bad about it.”

“Special... snowflake hets?”

“Yeah, you know, like ‘oh well sure I’m straight but I’m not rushing into sex like everyone else so that makes me better’.” Kari wrinkled her nose and scoffed. “Bitch please. Aces are ace, and everyone’s just mad they ain’t attracted to their mangy arses.”

Merriam laughed again, noting it down. “You certainly have a way of putting things.”

“Thanks. I’m amazing at this, I know.” Kari grinned.

Merriam hummed. “And no end to the false modesty, I see.”

“The one true bottomless pit.” Kari twisted to look up at the clock briefly before pulling two rolls of fabric from her bag.

“Are we running over?” Merriam raised an eyebrow, glancing up at the clock on the wall.

“Nah, it’s cool.” Kari shook her head. “I’ll just get ready, you keep asking questions.”  

“Ok, if you’re sure. The next two are... hypotheticals.”

“Haven’t they all been?” Kari unwound one of her wrist wraps. “Well, not entirely. Sorry, go on.”

“If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be?”

Kari hooked the strap over her left thumb and wound it about her wrist a couple of times, pulling it tight. “Are... you asking what my fursona is?” She squinted up at Merriam. “You wanna know who I kin?” She shook her head and continued wrapping up her hand, keeping it tight. “Being human’s fine, thanks.”

Merriam stopped writing and looked up. “Can you explain any of that for me?”

“Technically... yes? I don’t know if I want to, though.” Kari tightened off her wrap and unrolled the next one with a flick of her hand. “There are some things you’re just... better off not knowing.”

“Ok.” Merriam nodded and wrote something else down. “How would you like to die?”

“That’s. Is that pointed? Rude, buddy, that’s just rude. Although I suppose you did buy the drinks, but if I was being that annoying-”

“It’s hypothetical.” Merriam sighed, rolling her eyes.

Kari grinned. “I know. So, hypothetically speaking,” she drew the words out, wrapping her right hand, “I guess... in suspicious circumstances. Or a blaze of glory. I don’t know, man, take your pick. I guess fire would have a certain spectacularly ironic symmetry.”

“Would it?” Merriam looked up over her glasses. “In what way?”

“Hm.” Kari smiled, tucking the end of the wrap in about her wrist. “You mean you can’t connect those dots on your own?”

“Hm.” Merriam laughed, almost mockingly. “And here I was thinking you didn’t want to talk about her.”

“I’m not, am I? I just said ironic symmetry. You drew the conclusion.”

“I will find out the truth about what happened to her, you know. Cooper may have dropped it – you and the rest of her foster family may have dropped it – but I won’t.”

Kari stiffened and tightened her jaw. She picked up her cup and swirled the last of the chai about its bottom. “Oh, would you look at that. I’m almost done.” She smiled around it, although the motion never reached her eyes. “Do you have any last quick questions?” She drained her cup and set it back down.

“I do, actually.”

“Go on, then.” Kari unhooked her foot and bent to pick up her bag.

“What’s your motto in life? Something that keeps you going, that you live by?”

“Buddy, I know what a motto is.” Kari tilted her head. “I guess... I guess it’s like... ‘as long as you can get up, it isn’t over’. Something like that.”

“Thank you.” Merriam nodded. “That’s... given me a lot for this.”

“Sure it has.” Kari stood and swung her bag onto her back. “Let me know wherever it’s published, right? I wanna see how much you switch up.”

“I’ve no doubt you’ll offer to... what, lay me out if I do?”