Entry tags:
OPEN
Who:
fadeling & Whoever
When: IC 8/1
Where: Shopping district
What: Cole has been avoiding people, if you want to talk to him now's probably the best time for an ambush
Rating/Warning:G/PG - No warnings so far
It isn't hard for him to avoid people--they don't see him if he doesn't want them to. And it was easier for everyone if he did for a while. He couldn't help and if he tried he might have put his hurt on them. Then he would be worse than what they'd already said he was.
And that circular logic ran itself around in his head until he was dizzy. He can't hurt anyone or it wouldn't be him. He's still him so he can't have hurt anyone.
But what if he had? He helped and he left them healed behind him, he thought, but...
But.
But he can't stay to see, there are too many others who need help. And if he hindered instead of healed, that was hurting them too. He was supposed to help people. Was he helping people? He couldn't tell anymore. It was all cluttered, unclear and clouded, cloying and clawing and clutching coy at clinging. It was hard to see through, hard to think through, hard to see, hard to hear. It hurt to look at but he couldn't look anywhere else.
He's not the one who's supposed to hurt, to be conflicted. He was only one thing, how could he do that wrong?
He crouched in the middle of the street, passersby flowing around him, not noticing that they even moved around him, but not seeing him either. That was part of it, too, and he didn't want to be noticed. He could still hear the hurting, but he hesitated, trying not to listen, trying to lose himself in the sounds of it. Maybe if there was too much to listen to, he could forget himself for a moment. Maybe if he couldn't pull it apart, he wouldn't have to try and then he wouldn't hurt anyone.
It really wasn't working.
"Touch and try and hurt or don't touch and don't try and don't hurt. Or touch and don't hurt. Too many threads, tied together tight in tiny tangles."
But they'd caught him in them, too when he was supposed to be clean. He couldn't even tell if he was that anymore.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When: IC 8/1
Where: Shopping district
What: Cole has been avoiding people, if you want to talk to him now's probably the best time for an ambush
Rating/Warning:G/PG - No warnings so far
It isn't hard for him to avoid people--they don't see him if he doesn't want them to. And it was easier for everyone if he did for a while. He couldn't help and if he tried he might have put his hurt on them. Then he would be worse than what they'd already said he was.
And that circular logic ran itself around in his head until he was dizzy. He can't hurt anyone or it wouldn't be him. He's still him so he can't have hurt anyone.
But what if he had? He helped and he left them healed behind him, he thought, but...
But.
But he can't stay to see, there are too many others who need help. And if he hindered instead of healed, that was hurting them too. He was supposed to help people. Was he helping people? He couldn't tell anymore. It was all cluttered, unclear and clouded, cloying and clawing and clutching coy at clinging. It was hard to see through, hard to think through, hard to see, hard to hear. It hurt to look at but he couldn't look anywhere else.
He's not the one who's supposed to hurt, to be conflicted. He was only one thing, how could he do that wrong?
He crouched in the middle of the street, passersby flowing around him, not noticing that they even moved around him, but not seeing him either. That was part of it, too, and he didn't want to be noticed. He could still hear the hurting, but he hesitated, trying not to listen, trying to lose himself in the sounds of it. Maybe if there was too much to listen to, he could forget himself for a moment. Maybe if he couldn't pull it apart, he wouldn't have to try and then he wouldn't hurt anyone.
It really wasn't working.
"Touch and try and hurt or don't touch and don't try and don't hurt. Or touch and don't hurt. Too many threads, tied together tight in tiny tangles."
But they'd caught him in them, too when he was supposed to be clean. He couldn't even tell if he was that anymore.
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"Sometimes. If they need it. It shouldn't be stuck forever, so I shake it loose and I let them forget."
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"That's actually very nice of you," is what she does finally say. Speaking as someone who has seen some incredibly nightmarish things, and who's used her powers to make humans think that it was a dream or...never happened? She doesn't think this is bad.
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"Maybe. The bird was angry I tried. His friend said it hurt people later." And he'd made him believe it, too. That he couldn't forget no matter how much he wanted to.
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But what if...
He pulled himself back in and shook his head.
"No. I don't take it. I don't make it mine. I don't make them less and I don't make me more. I don't hurt. But...but is losing learning? I-if the pain pulls pieces apart and they forget how do they know later if it comes back?"
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Honestly he seems a little too otherworldly to be one, with no real care for possessions except probably that hat.
"I don't know if you can learn something by losing a memory, though. Maybe that's one problem. But sometimes there are secrets nobody is meant to learn, don't you think?"
She's actually pretty confused, not following his train of thought, but she's trying to keep up.
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"I...I don't make them forget it happened, I let them forget it hurt. I don't do it always, only if they need it."
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"There's nothing wrong with that. You just...do you ask first?"
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"I forget later, so it's alright."
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"In my world, we have people like that. Or did. They were...celebrated, in a way."
Certain kinds of shrines used to have similar occult practices, after all.
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"A human might not choose to help, is all. That's why we venerated the monks that could do that in my homeland."
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"They try to do what's right, though. Most of the time."
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"They don't have to know, always."
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She feels that way too. Recognition is a pain.
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