The slow simmering anger of a mother scorned

[oncekind]

Who: Jiaying and YOU
Where: Here and there: see prompts
When: March
What: A little counseling, a little teaching, a little slice of life. There's potential for characters to secretly 'talk' to each other about things related to their past if they wanna avoid cameras.
Warnings: None that I can think of.
[Open]

School
Jiaying has taken to teaching in the local school though the subject itself is curious for a town this size. Who would have use for Mandarin? But between all the prep work that goes into teaching and her other duty as school counselor, she's kept busy. Five days a week for about half a day, she can be found in the teacher's room or the small office she can call her counseling room, usually marking papers or coming up with teaching material. Being the only Mandarin speaker in town has its downsides.


Counseling + secret notes
After school hours, she takes on regular counseling sessions by appointment. She appears to be a holder of a psychology degree but she has no memory of taking any such courses. She tries to keep her sessions casual anyway, focusing on making her clients feel comfortable. While she has an office nestled in half of the second floor of a building in Main Street with a small plaque that barely qualifies as a sign, she also pays house visits and allows visitors in her shared home with Emily Grey.

She puts on a good act of playing along with the rest of the residents of the city. She doesn't talk about her past. She doesn't question things. Not openly. Some time near the end of February (after the intense snow), she begins to slip small written notes to clients she knows to have awoken in the hospital and are just as confused as she is. Short and succinct, they are handed out to the people she has gauged to be trustworthy, a moment passed off as a friendly grasp of the hand for the cameras.

The past isn't dead.
Burn this after reading.

Hospital and wild card
She still visits the hospital whenever she can. She doesn't bother the nurses anymore but she can't help but wander past the children's ward to check in on the babies, hoping against hope that she can catch a glimpse of her baby daughter. She usually leaves quickly before she overstays her welcome but the look of loss, sorrow, and angry determination is one that gets harder and harder to hide.

She can also be found shopping or dining around Main Street. She doesn't cook so eating out is common. The groceries she does buy are related to baked goods. She is especially fond of the book store.

Comments

school; first week of march

[paragon]

[ They're all somewhat unwitting specialists these days. Granted, Steve's job at the school is a little more broad, and he'd been able to find some reference materials at the bookstore and in his own classroom (he knows he's supposed to think he put them there himself; he also knows he did no such thing. He's not yet sure what to make of the past assignments he's also found stored away from students both past and present). Still, he makes his own lesson plans, the ones already in place largely done away with. He's not sure he can trust anything more than a month old, and so he'd started from scratch.

He has no degree, either; he'd never finished art school, and with the war he'd been looking down a much different path, even before Rebirth. He knows there's no wholesale knowledge in his head that wasn't already there, but he can't say the same about some of the specifics that come to mind. He tries to confirm them with real memory or books, but sometimes he simply teaches and the knowledge is there; he has to be able to trust himself enough to say them out loud sometimes, as with all things he knows to be true.

For the past couple weeks he's been staying late at the desk in his classroom to do his lesson planning; Bucky's usually still at work by the time school lets out, so with Natasha keeping her distance, he'd be going home to an empty house. He's getting little done today, though, mind wandering and feeling the emptiness of the classroom just as keenly, so he decides a change of venue is in order and heads to the teachers lounge. He spots Jiaying as soon as he opens the door; he's seen her around the school since they met at the hospital, and they'd both made some small talk, though it's always been in view of other teachers and students and therefore nothing more than surface level. ]

You, too, huh?

[ He puts his papers down on the table and nods toward the coffee maker even as he walks over to it to start a fresh pot, the whole contraption ancient and likely on its last legs even by this decade's standards. ]

Can I make you a cup?

[oncekind]

[Jiaying looks up when she hears the door open and smiles warmly in greeting, resting against the back of her chair to casually track his movements.]

No, thank you. [She already has a cup on her desk though the tea is cold.] There aren't many reference materials around. I have to make my own. How have you been?

[It seems the perfect opportunity to catch up after their accidents. Even though this room is also under surveillance, as are many others.]

[paragon]

Can't complain. [ It's wry and contained; he means it literally. He dumps the old coffee grounds into the trash with a shake of his hand. ] You?

[oncekind]

Likewise. [She tilts her head slightly, hoping to share a glance with him and a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.] I do run a counseling business after school hours. If there's anything you feel like you can't share openly, you're free to visit and chat.

[There's a strange emphasis in the word 'openly'.]

[paragon]

[ The suggestion takes Steve by surprise enough to turn his head from the machine to her, and so he does catch her expression. He doesn't necessarily need it to understand, but at its face value it still prods at a part of him that both misses Sam and never quite settles at the group meetings he's taken to attending with Bucky. The latter's no less for appearance's sake than her offer. ]

Not sure there is such a thing. [ Nowhere with four walls, anyway. He finishes setting up the new pot to brew and moves closer to her again, taking his seat. It's an armchair, an ugly off-yellow thing, and that's before the discoloration of past stains. It's comfortable, at least, but he doesn't feel like relaxing into it. ]

[oncekind]

[She smiles an almost sly smile] Humans are very adept at communication. [She looks back at her papers, idly marking away at this week's homework.] Don't you think so, Mr. Rogers?

[She doesn't slouch or relax into her chair either, sitting straight and regal, giving herself a bit of a presence with her posture.]

[paragon]

Sure.

[ What a sight they must make then, in the teachers lounge late in the afternoon on a school day, sun murky where it slants through the blinds and illuminates the chalk and other considerable dust in the air: neither of them quite relaxed, both straight-backed, her knowing and regal, Steve contained and almost always with something of the commander in him. ]

I could do without the necessity, though.

[oncekind]

I take it you're not fond of sharing. [Her smile grows warmer, her tone gentler and more earnest. It always helps to slowly build a stronger rapport. And there's something about the way he carries himself that Jiaying thinks is vital to 'recruit'.]

[paragon]

Ah. [ Steve huffs a quiet laugh, caught, glancing down at his papers on the table in front of him. ] Some people are better at that part than others.

[oncekind]

[she ducks her hide, hiding her smile politely] But no one's ever good at it to start. It takes a lot of courage to speak from the heart. If there is one thing the human psyche is good at, it's protecting itself from feeling vulnerable.

[paragon]

It's not that. [ His expression is turned somewhat inward at the denial, even if the lingering smile on his lips is more or less genuine. The kindness of hiding her own isn't necessary. ] You know, I thought we were speaking metaphorically. You're good at your job.

[oncekind]

I try. [She says, modestly. She picks up her pen again and starts to make some adjustments to her lesson plans] It's strange. I have no memories of studying for my practice or Mandarin. And yet here I am. Coming up with lesson plans beside the the most handsome teacher in town. [She makes no attempt to highlight the compliment, just tosses it out as a passing remark.]

[paragon]

[ Off-hand or not, it's not something he's ever really had a great handle on, though today it makes him exhale a soft huff of a laugh, only slightly awkward.

For all the good that's done him. ]

I could say the same thing.

[ He means the memories, but if it sounds like he means the other— well, he's got eyes. ]

[oncekind]

[That's very cute, Rogers.]

Seems we're one of the few to actually voice these concerns.

[A quick glance at the camera then she's looking back at her lesson plan]

[paragon]

[ He doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what she's looking at. ]

They'd have to show their faces to stop us.

[ If you go for that sort of thing. ]

[oncekind]

[oh my]

You're not worried they'll make us forget again?

[paragon]

We got 'em back once.

[ His reply is immediate, like it's something he's thought about before. ]

[oncekind]

And we've lost them once. It seems more like they're holding our very selves hostage. That, all this, [she gestures vaguely] is something we should be content with.

[Upon saying that, she looks back down at her lesson plans. Has she pushed her limits? She supposes she'll find out.]