slightlytaller

The facts in front of me are that I've had One (1) Interloper who left a lot of their memories, a record player, and a collection of vinyls that couldn't possibly even exist in my timeframe, and that I am to evidently endure either the frustrations of a little curse breaking or the pains of puberty once again.

At least I have clothes that fit this time. It's just an embarrassing state, and it took a few days for my Self to take over the wheel from the Younger Me that washed up on shore.

So you were your younger self for a bit?

Or you are now?

... But you remember here, right?

That's complicated.

I'm Myself, Jun. I remember being in Trench. This bizarre little town gave me something I'm struggling to continue believing in on my Earth. Even if it was for a short while, it's better than never.

Well, that's better than it could be.

Do you need anything?

I'm fine. I just embarrassed myself in front of a few dozen people over the last month. But, Gray is here.

How are you holding up? Do you need anything?

Edited 2023-02-08 03:27 (UTC)

I saw. ... Your cat?

I'm...

... No, I'm not fine. Falco didn't come back from the sea. I want to say 'yet', but...

Yes. She's a help.

Falco is the boy who made that big string chart a few months ago, right? He's been here for a while, and it seems like people who are well connected like he is are less prone to hearing the sea's call.

He should be back soon enough. It's possible he just needs to rest for a little while.

What happened? If it's not too painful to answer.

He's more than that.

I love him.

Also he... became older. And he had some sort of disease... he just

He ran out of time

[The grief and suffering from witnessing the loss of someone cut down in an untimely fashion was a grief that he had danced with himself. Illness might not have been the same as a sword, but it was it's own battle-- Inglorious, unsung, and infinitely more tragic. ]

I'm sorry for your loss.

You've probably heard it a million times, but it's true. That sounds absolutely horrid, from all sides.

I know people say that and I know people mean it but it still doesn't feel like anything.

Not much feels like anything right now though.

It's not the first time I've lost someone who cared for me like that. Machi got shot in front of me. She didn't die from that specifically. ... Her brother had to pull the plug.

I didn't have time to be upset then. Since she was dead it became my turn to pilot.

But it's been days now. I can't feel him through our bonds anymore. I don't know what to do. I haven't been going to school. I can't face it without him.

[Trials like what Jun was describing were unimaginable for anyone, but especially someone so young. Once more, Waver found himself wishing to slam his fist into the face of whomever was responsible for the war crimes on Jun's Earth. A physical blow would do nothing-- but it would be cathartic.

Never had he wanted to quietly arrange assassinations himself before. He would never--

It wouldn't help Jun feel better. ]

No one is asking you to go and act like everything is normal right away. It's not, and it's not going to be normal even when Falco returns.

You've had so many reasons to grieve, and no space to do so. Take some now, because that kind of pain will demand it's space eventually.

In the meanwhile, I do think you should at least return to your lessons. Having something familiar to focus on can help. If school is too much, I can help you catch up.

Where are you at? Do you need anything?

[They were big words from a man that recently died-- but Waver was still analyzing the bits of memory that filtered forward, and teaching others was his method of coping.

He didn't want to leave others in the same position he had been in: aggrieved and alone. ]

Maybe. I'll see if I can.

I don't know what to do with the pain, though. I feel useless just sitting around with it. There's nothing I can do, though.

I have food and water and shelter and we're working on getting a better shelter. So I'm fine on that front.

Sometimes the space it needs it is outside of your body. What that looks like is different for everyone. Some people make art, music, or write about it. Others find a reason within that pain that helps them move forward.

Even then, it never fully goes away. It just takes a different shape that's a little less painful.

You say 'shelter.' It's winter. Are you in a proper house with a bed and heat?

I'm not very artistic.

Yes. Though it's a room someone else had and they're currently sleeping on the couch, which is part of why we're looking for a new place. He's been doing that for months and it's not acceptable.

You don't need to be. It might even take a different method entirely, and that's something you need to find on your own.

If you're having trouble finding a place, I can talk to my landlady and see if there's any apartments that are big enough nearby. Who are you staying with, if I may ask?

We have five people we need to house so an apartment probably won't fit it.

Manabu has two boyfriends and I want to have room for Falco when he comes back.

[He's got to come back.]

[A multitude of thoughts tumbled through his mind in reaction to this. After a moment of fighting down the initial feeling of being unwanted and unneeded, he replied.]

There's number of houses in Cellar Door that fit what you're describing, some of them close by.

I can check them out for you.

Also: I have something for you that may help a little with the problems that you're having.

Okay. Just send me locations and I can put them on the list after you check them out.

... What is it?

telling you what your Christmas gift is would be cheating.

Yeah okay, Dad.

[Wait. No no no no - shit. He didn't mean to send that. His brain is on autopilot.]

That was a joke
I know you're not really my dad

You're a professor too but you don't treat me like a student all the time

And you didn't abandon me either

Why would I abandon you?

Jokes notwithstanding, you're not the first young person I've met that has had a troubled home life. Two of my longstanding students were shunted my way because their families and my colleagues didn't know what to do with them.

I was in my third year teaching. They weren't any older than you.

...I suppose that's why one of them gives me silly names, like Big Ben London Star.

They didn't deserve to be abandoned by everyone. And, neither do you.

Edited 2023-02-08 19:23 (UTC)

Some days I think I do. For everything I've done. How could anyone care about me, ever?

... But I still feel lonely. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. And the truth is that as much as I'm trying to improve physically I'm nothing compared to most people here.

I can't protect anyone. If I can't protect the people I care about then why are there any people I care about?

There's not much I can offer to Trench. Sometimes I wonder why it picked me.

Dying doesn't scare me here. It's being alone that actually hurts.

[It was like he was looking at himself in some ways, Waver decided. Perhaps that was part of why he was so concerned about the boy.]

People don't always make rational sense. They make judgements and decisions that make no sense even if you dig around and try to figure out why. Emotions aren't rational, and they drive a very large part of human behavior.

...I also can't protect the people I care about. I can hardly stand beside them in a disaster. But, the Pthumerians picked us, and our friends picked us.

And, maybe we don't have to know why. People outside of ourselves often see things that we can't.

I personally want to trust my friends. That's enough for me.

Emotions are just chemicals. Chemicals follow a rational pattern, don't they?

... But you're right that emotions aren't rational. Unfortunately.

You have magic. You're smart.

Me? I'm just a weak kid with terrible luck and terrible circumstances and terrible nightmares and hallucinations. And even then I'm lucky because I know people who had worse situations than me, so I should be grateful it's not worse.

I barely have strong enough circuits and mana supply to be considered a spellcaster. And, you're smart; don't sell yourself short.

Chemicals don't always follow rational patterns inside a person's body, and science doesn't know why people get anxious or depressed. In my opinion, there's something in between the data that science can't yet fully quantify-- and that's probably the closest we have to real magic on my Earth.

Other people's trials don't make your's insignificant. Honestly, it's not good to even compare. Everyone's situation is completely different. You've been under the kind of stress that would break most people.

It's okay to not be okay.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: gunshot, euthanasia

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject