My Mom is a Maternal Slime

Hello Mr. Hart. I realize this is short notice, but Ms. Bowden wants to know if she could come in today to see the painting.

Needing a break from all the mythology and history, Daniel was in the middle of painting a different piece before he receives a text from Lecia's secretary. Knowing the former archeologist's busy schedule, it'd be a while before she'd be available; thus, he doesn't feel it wise to reject this opportunity to finally receive her impressions.

But, he's also concerned.

Was his client's requirement to involve green fire a whim, or does she really know more than she first led on?

By these questions, Daniel's unsure whether he should even press her or assume it as mere coincidence. Although there's a need to understand Anne and Viviane's origins, the latter did say they were likely summoned and to be careful with others who might know.

"Daniel, do you want lunch?"

His thoughts disrupted by his sweet mother, the artist turns away from the easel to see his Anne by the door, smiling meekly.

Relaxing, he hums. "That sounds good about now, but I can just have food delivered or make it myself if you're still researching."

At the idea of more texts and videos, Anne visibly recoils. "Honestly, Mama has seen enough. It's a rabbit hole of information, yet none of it seems to have any relation to Viviane. All I can guess now is that those surrounding the dark-haired lady in that memory were probably men of the Isis cult."

"I mean, if they're wearing hoods and willing to burn someone for a goddess, they're likely cultists."

"Ugh, I don't want to even think about them anymore. It's so nonsensical!" Anne complains before burying her face. "How did it end up like this? Mama went from studying the universe to becoming involved in Earthly mythologies."

Daniel chuckles and sits up. "Alright, I think we really should clear our heads a bit by going out."

Lifting her head, Anne huffs. "I'd rather cook! At least I'll be distracting myself rather than waiting for food."

"Fair enough," Daniel answers, cocking his head to the side. "I'll help you."

Anne's eyes warm before she fakes a cough. "No, you should focus on your work while Mama prepares lunch. By the way, I saw you were focused on your phone. Is something wrong?"

"Ah..."

Daniel hesitates, rubbing his neck before breathing out slowly. "Well, Lecia — the client who commissioned the Stonehenge painting, wants to drop by to see it today."

The slime mother widens her eyes, and like Daniel, she recalls her elder sister's words about their possible summoning. "Are you planning on accepting? I mean, you have to at some point. That's regardless of whether she's related to any of this or not."

With wry lips, Daniel stares at the ground. "On one hand, her request for a green fire might be a coincidence, but on the other, she may be involved in some way. Regardless, I can't be sure whether it's a good idea to approach her now."

Anne feels Daniel's conflict, but as much as it's easy to hide, she feels they won't get any closer to learning more if they don't try. That's especially so if it means getting closer to understanding her elder sister's state of being.

"If Mary's gauging her uncle, you should do the same. At best, she's just a client that you have a painting to show off!" Anne chirps.

Daniel raises his brows as he stares back at her. Seeing such optimism, he lightly snorts. "Alright, I'll ask her to come in then. I can't really think how delaying might help me anyway."

Anne hums happily. "Then, I'll be in the kitchen. I'll even prepare tea for our very rich guest~"

Meanwhile, at Mary's studio, the female artist finished the last required appointment for a planned commission. As her client exits, she flips her business sign once more.

It's not like she plans to reduce her business hours regularly, but with so much to follow up on with Daniel and Anne, Mary can't exactly pretend to be business-as-usual.

While exhaling, a vibration in her pocket causes the artist to momentarily stiffen. Pulling it out, she sees Daniel's text:

FYI, my client who wanted the Stonehenge painting is going to visit. I'm hoping it's nothing, but...we'll see.

"Same here," Mary murmurs with regard to her uncle, then raises her eyes to the ceiling, huffing with sparkling eyes. "Although, having a secret magical uncle in the family does sound cool."

As wonders of hidden mysteries and secrets fill her head again, she quickly reverses and shakes her head, snorting. "Who am I kidding? Uncle Marlin? Him?"

While she's happily played with the idea ever since Vivian revealed a connection, it's hard to believe completely. Her uncle may be an oddball of sorts, but he's overall still a regular, working guy.

'Don't get ahead of yourself,' Mary tells herself, then checks the time on her phone. It's around evening in the United Kingdom, so knowing that her uncle works in I.T., he should be available by now.

With a cover story prepared, Mary heads back into the main area of her studio and dials his number. Relaxing onto her lounge couch, she smiles as the line is quickly picked up.

Click!

"Hey there, uncle! It's been a while!"

...

"Oh, video call? Sure!"

Mary pulls away her phone to switch to video before her lips widen even further to see her uncle's face.

The man sporting a rounder head, slight stubble, and brown eyes nearly matches that of her father; aside from the baldness, of course. At the age of thirty-eight-year-old, he's the youngest and only brother of her father's siblings. Other than his past of filling a wall with strange characters, one wouldn't be able to tell of anything wrong by looking at him.

"Hey!" Marlin cheerily greets as her niece's image is relayed back to him. "You're looking well! We last talked...what, a few months ago?"

Mary hums. "I think so. Anyway, I'm sorry for not calling sooner! How's everything?"

"Oh, no worries! Everything is going well, I'd say," Marlin answers, waving his hand at ease before clearing his throat. "You may be surprised to hear this, but I've decided to get back into it and try those dating apps you told me about."

The artist inhales, covering her mouth with her free hand proudly. "Oh, uncle, you're finally integrating!"

"What do you mean 'integrating'?" Marlin snaps back. "I work with technologies all the time! It's just these social apps are just too much for me."

For context, Marlin divorced about five years ago after being married for two. There wasn't much in the way when pressed about it other than "It didn't work out." Since then, he was content remaining single. Nobody got anything out of him about where things went wrong; his former wife remained silent too.

When Mary thinks about it now, it's actually quite strange.

"Enough of me," the uncle dismisses. "How are you and the business?"

"Going equally well," Mary answers before grinning. "I recently finished painting a rich lady's cat named Mr. Fwuff."

The British man holds in his laughter. "Is that so? I swear, you've always got something interesting your way, huh?"

'You have no idea,' Mary thinks, closing her eyes for a moment before responding.

"It's the same for you, though. I can still remember those strange patterns you showed me when I was younger."

"Oh man," Marlin breathes, slumping. "I spoke with your father two weeks ago, and he is still bitter, saying I influenced you too much. I mean, come on! From what I've seen, you were influenced by far more things than my silly patterns."

"Well...who knows. I'd say it was a nudge to my youthful mind, so give yourself some credit!"

Marlin rolls his eyes. "However your passion began, he can't deny that you're successful and doing well. I guess, in his head, he's worried that a downturn might come in the future."

"I understand his concerns, and he's not wrong that a rough time could come, especially for a working artist. On that note, I've actually begun to diversify by getting into writing!"

Marlin widens his eyes in delight. "Oh! A novel?"

"A fiction one to be exact. Like art, I'm looking for escapism, not realism!"

"Ha, I guess that makes sense for you. Then, what's the story, if you don't mind me asking?"

With a prepared plot in mind, Mary can now justify some of the things she saw without being too suspicious. Clearing her throat, she begins, "Well, I'm planning something that involves romance, mystical elements and...let's call it dimensional travel. It starts off with a girl, isolated and trapped in a dimensional plane for ages. With time blurring, she barely remembers who she was and how she first ended up there."

It might be too close to the truth, but if her uncle is more than he seems, Mary has to lead him on with some relevance. So far, he doesn't seem to react to such a plot, only humming and nodding.

"Then," Mary continues. "...a green fire appeared before her. Trapped and without hope, she plunged into it, hoping it would do anything for her."

At mention of the fire, Marlin's brows raise. "Oh, so the fire must be some sort of magic, then?"

"Yes! She ends up in a new dimension, but more specifically, it's a dream plane belonging to another person. Trapped still, our second protagonist is just your average Joe; however, when he sleeps, he starts dreaming into this plane and meeting this girl."

"Okay, I see where this is going. He falls in love with her and tries to figure out how to help her, right? His literal dream girl. It's not a bad starting plot for an aspiring author."

Mary lifts her chin proudly and giggling. "But I'm sure with your many readings, you probably know of a better one."

"I wouldn't say that," Marlin dismisses before grinning. "By the way, you said the boy's name is Joe, but never mentioned the dream girl's name."

"Uncle, only you would play that literal joke. If you must know, her name is...um, Isis!"

Mary didn't want to be too obvious by mentioning Viviane, who is related to the wizard. So, with the other mystery name mentioned in Anne's recent vision, she quickly uses it.

However, by using the mythological goddess' name, a flash of concern shows on Marlin's face. He lowers his gaze for a moment before curling his lips.

"Er... Mary, was this story influenced by anything?"

'Oh, there it is!'

Playing dumb, Mary smiles naively. "No, why do you ask?"

Marlin sways for a moment, clearly troubled. He raises his free hand to his mouth and coughs. "Let me be more specific: Do you remember anything else when you were young and in my study?"

The question surprises the artist, having not thought much of what she remembered. "Um, just your drawings. Should I have?"

The bald man twists his lips, then closes his eyes. "Well, I might as well tell you now that you're older. Maybe subconsciously you remember or something. First off, don't think me as crazy, okay?"

Mary gasps. "Never, uncle!"

Especially now as the anticipation is killing her.

Marlin smiles wrly. "Then to start off, those patterns you saw me draw when you were little are from an old book I found at an antique shop."

The artist flinches and slowly narrows her eyes. "A...book?"

This is not the angle she expected.

Her uncle nods slowly and sighs, "Suffice to say, this book I found and the antique store I thought I went to...wasn't normal."