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endlessflask) wrote2019-06-11 09:08 am
endlessflask) wrote2019-06-11 09:08 am
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no subject
... Okay.
[He's not sure how well he'll be able to follow that advice, because he really doesn't feel like it'll stop the path his life's snowballed down but. He is particularly sick of this place hurting him. Of using people who wouldn't hurt him to do it. He looks a little lost.]
Perhaps I can — find a way to become a little stronger.
Learn how to fight back a little better.
[If he'd known how to fight since the beginning, maybe his brothers wouldn't have died.
If he'd just... known how to protect.]
no subject
When I was your age - [ He can't believe he's just said that. Rewind. ] - When I was younger, in high school, I was … Bullied. A lot. Not just by kids at school but by people that, for all intents and purposes, should have loved me a lot more than they did. I've been there. So. I know it's not easy, and I know that learning to move beyond it isn't easy. But it's possible. Right?
[ Eliot gives Diarmuid a small smile. He doesn't mean to really ramble or go off on a tangent, but he thinks maybe the boy should know that he's not the only one going through this. Sometimes it just really sucks to think you're alone when you're not. ]
Just, you know. Remember that you deserve better, and don't let people undermine your value. Okay?
no subject
[Diarmuid frowns at that after listening with that careful, soft way of his. It's important to hear the struggles of others, to understand that they're flawed creatures and not the monsters you perceive them to be — even easier when you at least know they weren't in their right minds, that it wasn't always under their control.
It doesn't help that Diarmuid's a little too familiar with bullying, be it a teen-aged jock who think it funny to step on the edge of his robes, or a lordship who thinks it's alright to torment monks for conquest and power, or... a fellow monk, who hides behind his faith to hurt people.
He couldn't imagine people who should love you, doing such things...
But then again, he was abandoned; perhaps fortune truly did smile upon him, then.
Then Eliot says that.
And Diarmuid's quieted by it. It is not any deep, unrealized secret to himself, that he's unsure of his value. That he's unsure if he's being punished by his errors and mistakes in his young life. He's only just accepted that Geraldus' death was not a murder, but self-defense, an accident caused by the other man's attempts to smother his life out.
... But this... He's not sure what to say, really.]
How does one know? That they deserve better? How does one measure such a thing?
[He would honestly love to know.]
no subject
[ It's a perfectly reasonable question. Eliot doesn't really know how to answer it. He's not even sure there is a right answer. He can only speak from experience, which is funny, because he's not even entirely sure he's deserving of anything better.
But he acts like he is, and that helps his attitude come across as confident and un-fuck-with-able. ]
I guess you just have to believe it. Even if you have no reason to, you just have to trust you do. And, you know, take it from the people that care about you. Trust me when I say that if anyone in this place deserves anything good, it's you. You're … Very exceptional.
no subject
There are many exceptional people in this town; I would not count myself among them.
[Clearing his throat, he motions to the food.]
I, um. I should leave you to lunch. It's better warm.