The Butterfly Effect.

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°

••The Caterpillar••

Iris nodded, scrawling the word 'commitment issues' under Mordecai's name which she had imprinted neatly into the lines. She fiddled with the tip, the onyx ring upon her pinky gleaming in the light which peeked through the open window. These questions were going to be horribly intrusive and she wasn't looking forward to asking them however it had to be done. She had signed up for this, she wasn't able to back away now. "Can you tell me what your childhood was like? Were there any conflicts?" Iris despised this question, it had been asked of her many times by different doctors. She never answered truthfully. Mordecai seemed to be a strong person, confident at best and she knew that the tough exterior didn't form itself from nowhere. She just didn't know where it originated from.

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

The second question was exceedingly more difficult than the first. Mordecai's eyes darkened noticeably as the words left Iris's lips, the curve of his smile bordering on menacing. It was not an inquiry that he hadn't been faced with before, of course; it had been a particular favorite amongst all of his previous doctors. Normally it did nothing to faze him in the slightest, as this would be the point at which he fabricated an elaborate lie, each divergent from and infinitely more outrageous than the last. But he had already made up his mind to give Iris the truth until the grounds of a confession were reached, and his background was hardly shocking enough to illicit such a thing. Convince her that she has your trust. It will benefit you in the long run. The past consisted of facts, and nothing more; he could get by without exposing a shred of emotion. Still, before offering a response, he did take the precaution of leaning back into the plush cushioning of the chair, letting his eyes fall shut so that she could not read into them, the precarious smile still hovering on his lips. "That depends on your definition of the word conflict, my darling. I grew up in a very wealthy household, much the same as the type in which one would find our favorite "men in suits." My parents - the dears - were the absolute cream of the neighborhood, envied by each and every one of their neighbors. They were very influential people, as you can imagine, and as such, they built up a reputation that they were all too keen on defending. But they were complacent. After all, they had money, the perfect home, the perfect status, and generally what one would call the perfect life, a personal universe right out of a child's fantasy, and one that was tarnished only by their less than perfect son. They were ashamed of him, afraid of what this unseemly spawn of Satan would do to their hard-earned reputation. So while they were throwing extravagant dinner parties for the mayor of the city, he was locked away, far from sight, their most well kept secret. He never went to school, though private tutors were hired, a new one almost every month, as not many could stand to be in his presence for prolonged periods of time, and those that left were generously compensated to keep their mouths shut. Maybe if they could educate the thing, it would become normal. When that method failed, being a very religious couple, they tried exorcisms, and all manner of other things, but each to no avail. A psychiatrist never once came to mind. As a result of all of this, their son naturally grew to be cynical and detached. He became convinced that he was indeed the monster that they consistently accused him of being, and let himself be consumed by it, this new acceptance giving him the feeling of a power that he had not been able to obtain beforehand. However, when his parents were finally able to rid themselves of him in his eighteenth year by shipping him off to college, he managed to make a way for himself, and has been doing quite nicely ever since." When he had finished, Mordecai opened his eyes to gauge Iris's response. What he had given her, of course, was the abridged version of the story. It left out any mentions of fire and of his affinity for it.

​

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°

••The Caterpillar••

The words uttered from the mouth of the man before her came from the need to disassociate himself with the monsters of his past, the exoskeleton that Iris knew surrounded him still remained to be intact. Iris felt her heart leap into her throat, felt the sudden urge to soothe him, he didn't need comfort. He needed peace. Yes, that was what this whirlwind of a man needed although he didn't seem to believe so. People were not born monsters although most would assume otherwise and this man had taken aspects of what was truly considered a psychopath and had altered them, it was always the ones closest to you which served to harm and maim.


Iris pictured a boy of young age cast away to his own devices, guided by no one but his thoughts of self-hatred formed by the ones who supposedly loved him. She imaged the more feminine version of his side providing comfort where there was none, shaping and welding him into the power he wished to hold within his hands. She saw a man who had been bent so far back that he had had no choice but to eventually break, to lose every shred of humanity within him and hurt those who had ridiculed him.


She saw a dysfunctional family shrouded by existential lies and falsities, dinner parties held where 'little Mordy boy with the baby blues' was never mentioned because said person had ceased to exist within the eyes of those who were meant to nurture him. She saw it, saw it all, and she felt so far and distant. Iris blinked, sniffling slightly before glancing down at the notepad.





"Parents are harmful creatures..people are shaped in their image, made to be the best and often the expectations and standards create horrifying grotesqueries which embed into the brain. You were not born fucked up, no, you were not the creepy kid in the corner, not at all. The people who created you, brought you into this fucking world and then treated you like shit instilled into your brain that " something was wrong with little Mordecai because he was interested into things that the angelic little boy next door wasn't" and I'm sorry it had to be that way. Parents hurt, they really do..but it won't ever be your fault."





Iris gnawed on her bottom lip before clutching the pen and writing a brief summary of what Mordecai had told her. "When did you want to start dressing up in dresses rather than suits?"

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Mordecai's eyes followed the fluid motions of Iris's hand as she wrote. The pen made a faint scratching sound as it danced across the paper, back and forth, back and forth...It was mesmerizing, calming, in a way, yet Mordecai could not help but wonder exactly what it was that she was scrawling down. Were they his words, or her perceptions of them? Facts, or judgments? What the doctor had said in response to the reluctantly disclosed information about his childhood made sense. Quite likely, it may have been that he never would have turned out the way that he had if his parents had put forth as much effort into seeing things from his point of view as they had shoving him into a corner. He would still have been different, yes, but not necessarily the sadistic man that he had grown to become. But whatever the case, it still stood that he was a psychopath, a monster of human design formed from the broken pieces of a hopeless young man left to stew in his own impurities, a force of destruction that consumed all in its path and brought pain and suffering to all those that it came into contact with. Whether this was by the neglect of his parents or by his own initiation mattered not. "Please do try to contain your sympathy, dear Iris. I assure you that it is neither needed nor appreciated." At this he paused, taking in her newest inquiry before putting together his answer. "I was rather young when the desire first struck me, around eight or nine years old, or so. My mother kept her old dresses tucked neatly away in a wooden chest in the basement, where I spent much of my time, and one evening, out of boredom and curiosity, my younger self decided to experiment with them, to see how it felt to wear them and such. Not surprisingly, I found a sort of comfort in it. It was yet another thing that was different about me, but it was something that I could control, and as a small child that made me feel powerful, like I was finally gaining control over at least one aspect of my life."

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

Iris chuckled lowly, wondering how many hearts Mordecai had broken in his wake. It was no secret that he was both an attractive man and woman, sporting a sculptured face which had a soft appearance and perhaps the most hypnotic eyes Iris had ever had the chance to have trained on her. He was either aware of his beauty which would be deadly if so or he was content with being oblivious to the graceful features he had acquired.





This was all strictly from a professional view, Iris was certainly not thinking commenting so bluntly on his face as she had done earlier. She paused, pen over the notebook as she stared down at the words. In her distraction, she had written down everything she had been thinking and it was best that Mordecai not see what was occurring in her mind. Inconspicuously, she closed the notebook before setting it down in its original place. She was certainly curious about the man, he was an enigma of sorts and she wished to figure him out.





"Did other people ever find out about your cross-dressing? How did they react?"

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

"Are we going off the record now, darling?" Mordecai inquired of the doctor with a humorous smirk, in reference to her setting the notebook aside. It gave him the countenance of knowing something more than of what Iris was aware when, in reality, he didn't, though he did have his suspicions that she was trying her hardest to keep something from him. Nevertheless, it was an amusing facade to put out, a trick that he employed often. Mordecai particularly enjoyed the panicked expressions on his unfortunate quarries' faces as they attempted to fathom how he could have possibly figured out about...whatever it was that they were thinking. "Well, being the insolent child that I was, I never made much of an effort to hide it. Quite to the contrary, really. Once I had obtained it, I eager to show off my newly discovered "power." I bewildered many a poor tutor by parading around freely in my mother's clothing, and it made my parents all the more frantic to beat the devil out of me. Metaphorically speaking, of course. They never laid their hands on me - they were much too afraid to. A timid demon was something that they were able to deal with; a bold one was a very different story.

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

Iris forced herself to not flinch when Mordecai acknowledged her bluff, taking in his smug features before rolling her eyes in amused fondness. "I would hardly call that 'going off the record' although you are making me break regulation quite a lot lately." The statement was true, Iris had been disregarding certain rules in order to conform to Mordecai's social standards and it unnerved her how easily she had discarded of her professional air.





'Like a moth to a flame.'





As for the second claim Mordecai made, Iris felt a certain pang of sympathy for the lost boy burrowed deep within Lester. Obviously, acception was not a common theme in the Lester household and it was baffling to say the least. Iris was somewhat glad the two assholes hadn't resorted to using their hands, Mordecai seemed empty but he wasn't which was what Iris was intent on exploiting. The abuse would've made him completely indifferent, transformed him into his minds worst machinations and converted him to a demon that couldn't be obtained.


It had done so for Iris, it would've truly injured Mordecai.





"Was there anyone who accepted you for who you were? Surely you had one person besides an adult whom knew of you?"

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

"What can I say, my dear? I have a talent for getting through to people." Iris's admission of his capacity to persuade her to throw aside protocol without even really attempting to do so intrigued Mordecai. Never would he have imagined that it would be his naturally charming disposition and not his usual methods of intimidation that would finally get through to her. Either cause was sufficient, of course, as Mordecai wasn't exceptionally picky, and the promising notion that he was making headway in his quest to infiltrate her mind sent a wave of euphoric triumph running through him.





"There was a single person, a boy of around my age," he spoke up again following a momentary lapse of silence as he considered how best to go about answering this particular question. "He was of the curious sort, and he found dinner parties to be dreadfully boring. He uncovered the existence of the boy in the basement after wandering down there in an attempt to entertain himself at one such party, and despite my initial attempts to chase him off, he kept on coming back. In a strange, morbid sense, I suppose you could say that we grew up together. As we got older, he learned from me what it was like to see the world from my point of view, and from him I learned...a new definition of the word "intimacy." But of course, nothing lasts forever, and you know what they say; curiosity killed the cat." The explanation was curt, guarded, and if one were to be looking closely enough, they may have been able to catch the faintest glimpse of pain flicker in his eyes before it disappeared. Going into any further detail on the matter would have resulted in the aggravation of unfavorable memories long kept buried within the darkest corners of his mind, ones that Mordecai had no desire to delve into. Iris's questions were becoming too personal, too quickly, and as a method of self-preservation to combat this fact, Mordecai found himself traveling down the route of distraction. "May I ask you something, love? There's a question that's been eating away at me ever since I first had the pleasure of speaking with you."

​

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

With a downpour of rain came a ray of sunlight, this boy appeared to be Mordecai's one and only beam of sunshine. It was cheesy for Iris to use said analogy but she was only human, Iris wondered of the boy's whereabouts and the vague subtleness to which Mordecai had approached the inquiry.


She recalled the charges which had been filed against Mr. Lester so long ago and felt a churning in the pit of her stomach, she couldn't believe it was possible for him to be capable of such things. She didn't want to. With that said, Iris wondered what Mordecai was curious about. She wasn't exactly interesting.





"Ask whatever you please."

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Mordecai allowed himself a moment to slip back into character before posing his question, giving the sharpness a chance to return to his tongue and the self-assured gleam the opportunity to refill his eyes. Iris's complete and utter willingness to adhere to his request almost brought on the slightest pang of guilt at what he was about to inquire of her.


Almost.





"I wish to know more about your own childhood. You mentioned your mother before, but never your father. What ever became of him? And tell me, darling, when speaking of your mother, what exactly did you mean in saying that she "beat the crazy out of you"?" The words were pointed, jagged, and crafted to hurt. Mordecai was falling back into his element.

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

Iris felt every ounce of breath expel from her, feeling quite winded as if she had somehow been punched in the guts by Mordecai's words. His voice was dripping with venom and she couldn't but somehow feel slightly betrayed by this, Iris reminded herself once again that she was dancing with the Devil and he appeared to be in the lead.





A wave of memories came rushing back and Iris closed her eyes in order to block out any tears from falling, it was that easy to get her revved up when mentioning her family but she had asked Mordecai questions which were exceedingly invasive and it was only fair to answer his.





Iris didn't quite like fairness.





"I grew up with my mother, just my mother, I don't know who my real father is..she never said because that was the only leverage she had over me. My mom was all for appearances, she valued knowledge and fearlessness and power, this left no room for affection. If little Iris wanted any kind of nurturing, she would have to scour the ends of the Earth for it and I couldn't exactly do that..I suppose my love of psychology can be attributed to my mother seeing as she was the first psychopath I've ever encountered. What I meant by my statement in the prison is exactly what it sounds like..if dear old Iris forgot a note in her violin lesson then she would be beaten with anything in hand, if she forgot to sit straight up and maintain her posture then a ruler over the back of her hand would do well, if she did not enunciate every single word then an electrical cord across her body would suffice. "No one is responsible for their actions but themselves" is what my mother would say when she was beating me and I became so numb to pain after that, she fucked me up..the woman was colder than ice and she cared for no one. She told me often how much I was an accident, an ugly little girl who would never have a boy to like her, and how I would never.."





Closing her eyes apparently didn't help and Iris opened them, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sniffled quietly. "That woman took every ounce of love in me and shredded it..I didn't want to marry anyone with that, to get a boyfriend, to have friends, to be a normal kid..I was so cold and I still am. One day, I had enough and when she hit me I laughed..she was surprised, so surprised so she hit me harder and I didn't cry anymore. I just laughed each time and when she was done, I was so bloodied that even today I still have the scars but the point was that I showed her what she had done to me. She had created a monster...needless to say, growing up with my mother was never easy."

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

As Iris's eyes welled up with tears, Mordecai's own glimmered with a devilish intensity. His venomous ploy had succeeded without a hitch. Finally, he had been able to break through that infernally impregnable exterior of hers. It was like breaking a hole through the center of a colossal dam, and the water that cascaded forth was a token of the weakness that he had known to be entombed within her from the very start. So, logically speaking, he should have felt victorious. Invulnerable. Satisfied.





So why the hell didn't he?





It was the connection. Somehow, upon hearing the heartrending tale of Iris's childhood, his mind had formed the unwelcome conception of his having an irrefutable correlation to the woman's plight. They were vastly dissimilar, yet at the same time, very much alike. Both had grown up in homes that could be classified as no less than broken. Each had grown to become cynical, isolated, cold, and detached, the product of neglect and constant ridicule by those whose purpose it had been to do exactly the opposite. However, where she had been beaten out of anger, he had been left alone out of fear. Where she had never had a single friend, he had, once, in a time that seemed like eons ago in a place that had all but faded away. And, perhaps the most perplexing comparison of them all, while she now extended her hand as a psychiatrist to aid those affected by her same affliction, he, as a killer, had instead made it his primary goal to end the lives of those who condemned him. Against his wishes, a picture began to take shape in Mordecai's mind of a little girl, bloody and laughing manically as an older woman beat her with every intention of driving out the devil inside of her, unaware that by continuing to do so, she was only making it stronger. The girl had no one to protect her, to tell her that her mother was wrong, that she wasn't a monster. There was no father to wrap his arms around her and protect her from the woman with the violent hands, nor was there another child, no little girl like her to take her mind off of the woman's actions.





Mordecai did not feel guilty. He did not.





There was no reason for it, after all. Iris was a monster, as was he. The fact that she simply possessed a softer heart was no concern or fault of his. It was not of his doing that her mother had treated her so cruelly, anymore than his murderous tendencies were any fault of hers. No, there was no cause for him to regret his actions. He had done only what was necessary to preserve himself in a game employing the concept of the old saying "kill or be killed." So instead of guilt, a building aggression rose inside him, irritation at the prospect that he was even questioning his decision, and vexation towards both himself and the woman who had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Wordlessly, with every intention of continuing on with his torment, Mordecai rose from his chair and walked over until he was standing directly before Iris. He bent over, cupping Iris's face in his hands as he used his thumbs to gently dry her tears. The action may have been comforting, if it hadn't been for the storm brewing in his eyes and the honeyed, taunting tone of his voice when he finally spoke. "Poor, dear Iris. So mother never loved you, did she? Do you think of her often? How vividly can you remember the look on her face as she beat you senseless, filled with contempt and not a drop of care for her poor, darling daughter? I wonder what your father would think if he knew of the monster that his baby girl so unfortunately grew to become. That is, if he were to even care at all."

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

'Dastardly and vivacious, roiling and churning, he was a storm which would break her resolve and crumble her warm heart'


°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The soft fingers which slid around her face were unexpected to say the least and Iris felt light-headed as tears were swiped away in one swift motion. It was as if something had sprung up from within her and told her that the action somehow fit, as if were missing puzzle piece, the thing she had been missing for such a long time. It wasn't until Iris looked up with the intent of saying this aloud that her words were cut off at the brown eyes which were glazed over with what had been kept at bay underneath.


As Mordecai spoke, Iris knew that every word cut deep into her flesh like a butcher knife and yet she still kept herself close to the warmth Mordecai was exuding. The tears had gone and the dazed look within her eyes had dimmed in order to make room for the cruel being swimming below the surface. Brown eyes looked into fake ones, his contacts were glassy and too large for his face...they were fake, they were not genuine.


They were not genuine.


Were they?


Iris had never been as angry as she was now, the irritation was not directed as much towards Mordecai as it was herself. For being so foolish, for thinking that she'd be able to change him. Mordecai only did what his inner nature allowed him to and Iris had underestimated him severely. She opened her mouth, closing it once more with a sharp 'click' as his eyes drilled into the dark depths of her very soul. As if he knew, he didn't know.


Iris stood, knowing the imminent height distance between them and practically looming over Mordecai. The words which were supposed to come out of her mouth should have been cruel, she wanted them to be. They would be but they wouldn't be what he wanted.





"I would like to have dinner with you tonight."

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

What?


What had he just heard her say?


To further add to the confusion and mounting annoyance that Mordecai was struck with at Iris's request, he now found himself staring up rather than down into a pair of brown eyes that held an expression just as stone cold -if not somewhat more-than his own, any leverage that he had possessed in standing over her completely stripped away. How? How was it that Iris Mason was so easily able to brush off his biting words? Why, after all of the boundless effort that he had put into dissolving the stability of her very psyche, hadn't she backed down? Why wasn't she afraid? And how on earth had she managed to shake him, a demon forged in metaphorical fires of hatred and devoid of any and all emotion, to his very core? Questions such as these were not something that Mordecai was used to, to be sure; his ability to read people seldom left any mysteries unsolved for long, and as of yet, no one, absolutely no one, had ever been able to get through to him anyways. But Iris was an unsolvable puzzle, a complicated enigma, the likes of which he had never encountered before and that, to his great and utter frustration, he was at a complete loss to figure out.


The horrifying reality of it was, it was like he was facing off against himself.


So, a taste of his own medicine, then?


He should have refused. He should have declined the offer and walked away, never to return or speak with Iris again. He should have listened to the instinct that was telling him to run, that there were some challenges that were just better left unfaced.


He should have done a lot of things. But he didn't.


Instead, he looked straight into her eyes and uttered the only words that he had ever spoken over which he'd had no control.





"Just give me a time and place, darling, and I'll be there."

 

[kou]

|Act 2|


-The Frenzied Fluttering-


'Oh, on the contrary, what is natural for the spider is chaos for the fly.'

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The soft smooth timbre of Smokey Robinson drifted throughout the spacious living area in the loft and Iris clutched the wine glass in her hand tightly, she hadn't intended to go for the alcohol so quickly but this situation seemed to call for it. Iris leaned back slightly, waiting patiently on the man (or woman) of the hour to grace her with his (or her) presence.





The lights were dimmed which hadn't been done consciously, Iris wanted to pretend that this was a normal affair in order to cover up the inconsequential pounding in her head and making it as simplistic as possible seemed to be the route she had taken. She had ordered Chinese food seeing as she didn't prefer cooking and always managed to cut herself with the cutlery. Not on purpose, of course.





Iris bounced slightly before raising the glass upwards and allowing herself to savour the sweetness before placing it on the table, adjusting her beige scarf and slipping a hand through her hair. Had it been so long since she had allowed someone inside of this place? When had she become so goddamn pathetic? She had left the door slightly cracked for Mordecai seeing as nothing but elderly people resided her and Guadalupe Gardens was home to a number of obliviously optimistic people.





This was retarded.





This was smart.





Possibly both.

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

He drove this time, which, given the state of distraction that had seized him the moment he had crossed the threshold out of Iris's office and hadn't unhanded him since, may not have been the most brilliant of ideas. But the walk from his home to hers would have taken much longer than he would have preferred, especially at night, and Mordecai wasn't exactly in the mood for people at the moment. As he guided the uncharacteristically inconspicuous black Phaeton down one of the back roads - the main streets were always tedious - that would take him to the picturesque neighborhood of Guadalupe Gardens, he gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands, irked immensely by his own lack of composure. All through the afternoon and the beginnings of the evening, Mordecai had been unsuccessful in his every attempt to clear the doctor from his mind. An infinite number of questions, wave after wave of uncertainties to which he could find no answers, struck him repeatedly, the most recent of which being: Was Iris an idiot? Here the woman was, inviting a man suspected of being an infamous serial killer into her home, where they would be having dinner, of all possible things! And alone, might he add. Fortunately for her, unless things became too terribly messy - a possibility which Mordecai did not completely throw out of the equation, to be certain - there would be no fires tonight. The area was too heavily populated, with too many chances of a witness popping up from the woodwork, and he wasn't exactly eager for a repeat of the dog situation.


But he could kill her. If need be, he could definitely do it.


To make matters infinitely worse, as he had prepared himself to leave the house, Mordecai had felt the beginnings of a migraine coming on, a painfully blatant reminder of all the stress that Iris was causing him. Nevertheless, determined to finish what he had started, he had popped a few pills and prettied himself up the best that he could, with the makings of a man, this time around. The contacts had been abandoned to let out the natural blue of his eyes, though a pair of glasses now sat perched upon his nose. It wasn't that he needed them; it was a simple act of vanity, or possibly the need to make yet another divergent impression. He chose to stick with the former.


In but a few moments' time, Mordecai was pulling his car up next to the curb in front of Iris's house, having made the commute, thankfully, without a hitch. It helped that he knew the neighborhood well; as he passed through Iris's street alone, he could pick out three houses of residents who had hired him out upon moving in. Old women, mostly. Pulling himself together the best he could, he made his way up the staircase to her front door, which she seemed to have very thoughtfully left cracked for him, and pushed it open without a moment's hesitation. As he entered into the dimly lit building and closed the door behind him, he called out to the woman in his usual bitter-sweet tone. "Hello, darling! I trust that I may come inside?"

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°

••The Caterpillar••

Iris spared a glance behind her before gathering herself and standing up, she padded cautiously down the hall which lead to the entrance before leaning in the doorway. Mordecai seemed to have returned to his male counterpart and was donning and a striped sweater which served to make him look different..he looked so normal and unimposing that Iris swayed slightly before giving him a look-over once more and gestured behind her.





"You look nice Lester, as always. The kitchen and living room are down here if you'll follow me. You'll have to excuse me, I've already been partaking in alcohol and that has affected my stance somewhat." As if by fate, Iris swayed once more before turning around less than gracefully and speeding off down the hall. When she reached the living room, she sunk into the couch before awaiting Mordecai. She was no the most gracious host but at least it wouldn't be so nerve-wracking as it had been earlier.

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Mordecai could scarcely bite back a burst of laughter at the sheer irony of the situation as Iris staggered off down the hallway. Here he had been, weighed down by needless apprehension at the looming thought that he was walking into something that would be much too arduous to pull himself out of, and the woman was half drunk. Oh, the whole thing was just too priceless. Had she actually been so worked up at the thought of his impending visit that she had resorted to alcohol? "Says the man who needed to take three Imitrex just to drag his ass out of the house," reprimanded the voice in the back of his mind, an obnoxiously truthful reminder that Mordecai made the executive decision to ignore.





Upon following Iris deeper into the recesses of her home, he once again had to visibly express his admiration for Iris's tastes in interior design. Just as with her office, the décor followed a predominately neutral color scheme, with just the right balance of brighter hues thrown into aspects such as pillows and carpeting to give the place a lively yet still tranquil aura. On his way into the living room, Mordecai noted the presence of a grand piano off to the side of the room, and remembered Iris's earlier words regarding her ill-fated childhood piano lessons as he took a seat beside her, making sure to keep a comfortable distance between them. "You know, love, there are plenty of men who would find it impossible to resist the urge to take advantage of you in your current state. If I may say so, you look absolutely captivating." And she did, too; it was merely an observation. Thankfully, Mordecai was not one of those men, though he was liable to take advantage of the situation in a different way. Maybe he would finally get the opportunity to find out what was really going on in that pretty little head of hers.

 

[kou]

°°Iris Mason°°


••The Caterpillar••

It took Iris a moment to fully process what Mordecai had said and when she had she was still mulling over what he had been implying. Nevertheless, it still sent her off into a flustered coughing fit and she turned towards Mordecai as a grin spread across her face. "Hypocrisy does not suit you dear, seeing as I find you to be equally captivating and could just as easily pin you to this sofa due to my height difference and your blatant need to be dominate--" Iris cut herself off, deciding that she was no longer going to drink ever again and that would be perfectly fine. That statement was also a lie seeing as Iris quite liked alcohol. The song had transitioned into a mournful and poetic ballad by the lovely Etta James. Why had she chosen such a depressing song?





Iris pondered over this before once more inserting herself back into reality and sending Mordecai a brief smile to let him know she was still there. "You will find that I am nothing like the woman you saw earlier in the office however I am still interested in getting to know you better without the restrichs--"


Iris slurred slightly before once more composing herself. "Restrictions." The woman leaned forward before swiping the bottle of unmarked wine off the table and pressing it into Mordecai's hands before leaning back. "Get drunk with me so I can forget about the fact that I allowed a man who slaughtered a stupid beagle into my abode? Of course, if the dog was loud than no one can truly blame you but shh, do not tell anyone I said that."

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Oh, God.


If Iris was right about one thing, it was that at the moment she in no way resembled the stern, reserved psychiatrist that Mordecai had come to know her to be over the past week. In her alcohol induced state, it was very clear that she had greatly misunderstood the implications of his statement, her response being so unanticipated, so lewd, that it took everything in his power to keep this face from registering the shock. The notes of the melancholy ballad that now filled the room, decidedly, did not fit the mood. Discreetly, Mordecai shifted his position so as to put a bit more distance between them as he carefully set the wine bottle back onto the table. What had started out under the guise of a favorable circumstance was now rolling downhill at a break-neck pace.





"Unfortunately, dear Iris, I must refuse your offer to become inebriated," he turned her down with a superficial charm that would have impressed Ted Bundy himself. However, the hard edge lurking in the undertones of his voice helped to convey the message that he meant every word of it. The last thing he needed was any unwanted baggage which, with the state that Iris was in, was something that he was bound to get if things continued on their current path. On another note, the whole thing may have been just a ploy to get him drunk and unaware so as to draw some type of confession from him. Who was to say they were definitely the only two in the house? Mordecai knew that the latter possibility was a great deal of a long shot and that the very thought had most likely stemmed from paranoia, but it was better to be paranoid than to be made a fool. But damn her, now the very image brought on by her words was ingrained into his mind..."You seem to be incapable of intelligible conversation at the moment. Perhaps we should postpone this meeting until a later date."

 

[kou]

|Iris Mason|

-The Caterpillar-

Iris sobered, abandoning the immaturity of her acts before nodding her head in wary understanding. It would not do to scare the man off and she had clearly made him feel uncomfortable although he had done the very same to her earlier, she had to keep him here or run the risk of being unable to fulfill that one nagging question within her brain. She made herself comfortable on the floral pillow at the edge of the couch before staring straight ahead, her eyes roving over the glass window which overlooked a large portion of the world outside. "The world is so dangerously beautiful, so many secrets contained in its hold and yet it wishes to not exploit them. I am often fascinated by how we take everything within this vast Earth for granted as if whatever anonymous being whom created us had not appreciated his creation as well. With that little bout of philosophical philanthropies, I apologize deeply if I made you feel uncomfortable. This may be a winning point for you but I must admit, you have the ability to set me on edge with every word and I was extremely nervous inviting you here tonight, I know you must think of me as foolish but I could not help but wonder if it would be any different had I not graced myself upon your prison cell. I have spent quite a long time poring over various books on differentiating psyches and none of them have ever been as interesting as yours, dear Lester. I guess when all is said and done, damaged people can be magnetized to each other even when they do not wish to be."

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Mordecai allowed himself to enter into a state of forced relaxation as Iris underwent the visible transition from downright vulgar to contemplative, though he was still very much on high alert. It was obvious that Iris had seen the effects that her words had on him, despite his attempts to keep his restlessness under wraps, and though he internally scolded himself for allowing her see even a shred of weakness in him, her change in demeanor came as a welcome relief.


He turned her philosophical musings over and then over again within his mind. Though spoken by a woman who had clearly partaken in more than her fair share of wine, they still had a very strong air of astuteness too them, one that could usually only be found in (sober) people who were well beyond her years. But, as was often the case with the two of them, his views on the same concepts were comprehensively disparate from her own. "The way I see things, dear one, whatever omnipotent being dropped us onto this tragedy of a planet had every intention of watching us suffer. Think of it this way; if human beings like you and I were created 'in his image and likeness,' than how infinitely more cruel and unfeeling must he himself be? As for my ability to set you on edge, I suspected as much as soon as I saw you walk down that hallway." Although you've been wonderful at hiding it up until this point. "And you are wrong to suspect that I think you a fool. On the contrary, you are by far the most excruciatingly enigmatic person that I have ever gotten the opportunity to meet." And I cannot seem to figure you out. What kind of fool does that make me? "However, if there is one belief that you and I share, then it is that, by some rogue twist of fate, the wounded always have a way of finding one another, even when one or both blatantly despise that very fact. In my mind, it is the equivalent of a cat running off to die, being able to go no further, and giving up only to find another cat lying down beside it. Of course, both wish for their lives to end, but neither can bring itself to fully let go until it is alone. And so they go on, in agony, until their little hearts finally flicker out."

 

[kou]

|Iris Mason|


-The Caterpillar-

Iris listened intently to Mordecai's claims on the religious views of others and felt slightly downcast at his disdain for the world, let alone inhabiting it. He was correct of course, her mother had often told her that God killed all the time and he had no intention of stopping which made her cast aside her beliefs in a higher power. Many people were able to succumb in hoping for a better existence after their inevitable demise and Iris knew that Mordecai had no fear or hopes for what came after being buried deep beneath the Earth. They were opposing forces which often clashed and intertwined with one another and it was terrifying how much Iris did not seem to mind that, they were capable of bending others to their will and manipulating them for their own selfish needs and the only difference was that one of them hid behind a wall of sanity and the other had already embraced their nature. It was truly disturbing how conversation could come so easily in the presence of Mordecai, it was even more so that Iris felt the urge to agree with him on his opinionated claims.





Iris remained silent, her brow furrowing in thought before she unraveled her legs from where they had been tucked underneath her and stood, crossing the room easily to a small alcove of books which was placed in the corner. She thumbed through each of the prints, her hand running along the spine before she pulled out a particularly faded document and glanced back towards Mordecai in thought. This document held all of the supposed deeds Mordecai had done when he was first incriminated, they held notes on the man himself and of his "work", they held Iris within the pages and Lester within the pictures. Two damaged cats, battered and wounded, drawn to each other like a moth to a flame. The woman returned to the couch before silently placing them in Mordecai's lap and settling down on the seat once more, her eyes trained on him as she patiently waited for him to discover what lay inside.

 

[Angst]

Mordecai Lester


{The Butterfly}

Mordecai followed Iris with his eyes as she stood, taking note of her every movement; it would have been a lie for him to say that he completely trusted her not to try something. He found it surprising that she had not chosen to argue against his point, given her generally stubborn nature, but came to the conclusion with further thought that there was really nothing more for her to say. It was becoming increasingly apparent just how similar the two really were, despite the mask of normalcy that Iris worked so hard to uphold. The two of them together resembled the yin and the yang, each distinguishably unique but with a piece of the other tucked deep inside. Mordecai was not sure how comfortable he was with that thought.





When finally he felt something being set in his lap and Iris's presence beside him once more, Mordecai realized suddenly that he had been spacing out, something that he seldom ever did. It was disconcerting, to say the least, the smallest things that he found himself doing in the woman's presence, things that would do with near no one else. Hell, he hadn't voluntarily spent this much time in another person's company since his graduation from college, unless he had some type of business to discuss with them. The whole matter was terrifying, but just as he himself had agreed on earlier, it was impossible for him to walk away from it all. As he reached down to pick up the documents so as to better see the characters printed on the surface, he bit his lower lip in contemplation, flipping through them one by one. It was a very thorough record of all of his past misdemeanors, crimes that he had indeed carried out but that those who sought to condemn him could never find enough information on any of the cases to actually make a criminal of him. Everything was there; the location of every building that he had set alight, the name of every man, woman and child that had died of a result. An unreadable smile crossed over his face at the memory of one incidence in particular, the one at the very top of the first page:


Date: June 18, 2013. The date marking the day on which he had returned home from college.


Location: 1137 Broad Street. His childhood address.


Time: 2:34 a.m. The time at which the authorities had arrived on the scene. By that time, the culprit was nowhere to be found.


Victims: Vincent Lester (57), Margaret Lester (54)





The rest, well. The rest was self-explanatory. What Mordecai didn't understand was Iris's reasoning behind showing the accounts to him. This, however, was not the question that he asked, though it was what he intended. "Do you believe these accusations, my dear?"

 

[kou]

|Iris Mason|

-The Caterpillar-

Spoiler

[media]

[/media]

Iris scooted towards Mordecai as he skimmed over the contents of the book, watching as a brief smile appeared on his face before dissipating before feeling her heart sink. It was true, she had just verified it by the look on his features and she found herself unable to look the truth in the eye and yet, not wanting to allow to slip from her hands. She had worked so hard to incriminate the man she was sitting in this very room with, had consulted countless professionals and had been baffled by their unwarranted stupidity, had stayed up for numerous amounts of nights poring over each forensic file concerning every victim, and she had hoped that one day she would have the infamous Lester within her grasp so she could cripple his position on his obvious high horse. And now? What had changed to make her so shy to acknowledge the aching gleam of the monster which lay within? Mordecai reflected her, he was her other half but she was so confused as to how that had come to be. She wanted something normal, she wanted something sane..


'But you don't want that truly, you want him so you can understand yourself.' Iris sighed woefully, unwilling to dig into that thought any further. The question that Mordecai had asked was more straight-forward than she had assumed. Did she believe these accusations? Of course, he had proved them without even noticing it. Did she want to? No, she wanted this to be false. Would she do anything about it? Iris truly did not know.





"I could lie and tell you that I am oblivious to what you are, I could even pretend that I don't know how manipulative you could be...I want to do that so bad, I want to meet you in a coffee shop and we can sit down and converse about the weather and other pointless things. I want to bump into you on the street and knock over everything in your hands and then help you and take my leave, I want to see you in a waiting room with a man or woman that you love and admire and maybe a child. I want to smile and say "that looks like a nice man with a nice life" and most of all, I want to know that your parents loved you and you would play baseball in the backyard or wear dresses and have tea parties with your mother and crush on the kid next door. I want you to have gone to Prom and danced with other people horribly and participated in Book Club or something, I want so much for you and that is so naive of me, isn't it? I want you to be happy and normal, I did not want this..not even for myself..but the truth is, it can never be that way Mordecai. We're always going to be fucked up and dysfunctional, I know you did these things but I don't want to know anymore..I just want the information gone so I can pretend that you wouldn't be capable of slitting my throat at any second.."