A Man to Man Talk

Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby catch » Wed Dec 19, 2012 8:21 am

"I underst-stand!" he'll say, not quite a cry, but loud, frustrated. He did; or, at least, he thought he did. It was something Ser Glenn didn't want. It was something a whole lot of people, people who didn't know, wanted. It was an Agnie-thing, an evil, a wickedness he must endure because the Governor-Matron didn't want it, and hurting these people made one a Bad Citizen, somehow.

"I d-d-d-do. I understand." That was in a more reasonable tone, one that sounded less like a wail, deep breath taken in through his nose, savored in his lungs, and released. "It. It's easier, isn't it? I'm n-n-not clever, Ser Glenn - you know I'm n-n-not. If you say -" Insist. "If you, you say it's b-b-bad, then it is. And, and I'll f-f-follow it, b-b-because." He stops, perhaps grasping, a little, just what he's saying. Not in terms of his own thoughts, not at all. Only in terms that that is, somehow, not what Glenn wants, and Catch had better find out what he wants before Ser Glenn hates him forever, and leaves, and take all the nice and lovely things with him. The addled man swallows, convulsive, bitter, and he drags all his brain-pieces out, lays them in front of him with visible twitches of his hands.

"Wh-what if th-they knew what he was? Why wouldn't th-th-they want him g-g-g-gone?" His voice came out, strange, as if he has discovered something in the scattered parts - a memory, a repeating-one, angry. Did people love Treadwell that much?
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby Glenn » Thu Dec 20, 2012 1:33 am

Anger and dissatisfaction were two very different things and the Governor of Myrken Wood was showing signs of the second, not the first. Granted, his conversational companion was not the most astute in recognizing such differences and confusion could well be understood even in the best of situations, and this was hardly that. "Catch." Cool, calm, patient. He had all day. "That's exactly what I'm trying to avoid here." Dissatisfied but patient. "You're clever enough for this, and it's important to me that you understand because you can weigh the factors of a situation, that you can make a sound judgment after seeing the entirety of it, that you can factor in the good of everyone around you and your own personal good. On these matters at least, I want you to know why I feel something is bad. I need you to know that Catch. I can't just have you follow rules until the point that you decide not to or that someone pushes you too far, over and over again. We can end this circle with reason and understanding, if we work together."

An attempt! A promising one in its own way. "Let us say, again, that Treadwell is what you say he is. More people know what you are than what he is. Do they want you gone? Or am I sitting here, in this room, a room that we have made for you, in a building that would not exist save for your sake, and we are trying to work through this last year of yours. This is Myrken Wood, Catch. It makes monsters of all of us and it us in each other's hands that we are pulled back to become human once again. It is a trust. Either we are saved or we are freed by each other's hands. Aeryn was freed. He's found peace, but not after we tried our best to save him, not until there was no other choice." Just like he was trying with Catch now. "If people knew, they would try to help Aloisius, Catch. We would. As best we could."
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby catch » Fri Dec 21, 2012 7:52 am

Catch was shaking his head, but not because of any 'no', not because of any sort of denial. He shook it to hear himself think, his palms pressing against beard-itching cheeks. Whys, and wherefores, reasoning - how could he learn any of that, when the actions and motives of others hid themselves, were secret terrors, and when he hardly even knew himself, aside from certain, unshakable truths? Sometimes, people were angry, and he could not see why; sometimes, like dissatisfaction, he mistook entirely. It is shameful, but perhaps if he pretends, if he could grasp the Semblance, the way he has done with so many things before. It is dishonest. But his brains were already whimpering for a rest, and he swallows against them.

"Th-they're too afraid to push me out," he says, miserably. And that was true, wasn't it? Gloria herself had said that his leaving would prompt a great hole, a hole big enough to bury the town, everyone that he knew. "D-d-didn't you know? I was a, a m-m-monster b-b-before I ever came." Ser Glenn, he knew, would not take such a defeatist attitude, and the addled man nearly clamped his teeth on his betraying tongue. Aeryn. Vibrant, wonderful, terrible Aeryn, and where was he now? A bit of metal in Aleksei's side. "I d-d-don't want to, to speak of the Eight. It m-m-makes me sad."
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby Glenn » Wed Dec 26, 2012 3:31 am

A tilt of the head. Glenn's nose rises ever so slightly. His nostrils flare, if only a little. One hand reaches out to pat the side of Catch's face. Once, twice, thrice, if allowed. "Do I look scared to you?" It was a challenge, of sorts. Did he? Did he ever? Cautious, occasionally, though on far fewer occasions than he ought to be. Outright insane, perhaps. Afraid, though? Oh, no. Not Glenn Burnie. "I care. I care about you. You matter to me. You matter to other in this town. As for the rest? They know the Baie. They know famine. They know disease. They know bandits and drow and even the rare dragon. What are you Catch? You're a lanky man with a scar. Occasionally an axe, but usually just a scar. Even Treadwell is more outlandish and offputting than you."

The Governor would go quiet for a time, would look Catch up and down. "With Faeryl, with Jirai, I can understand it. They manipulate you with a false kindness to get what they want. But the Eight. I wondered it for a good, long while. How can you see such darkness in Agnieszka or Treadwell, but not see the innate evil there? I faced it, Catch. With but my wits and a pen to protect me. I saw it directly. How can you be blind to that? How can you be uncaring?" One last pat, if he didn't lose his hand the last time; a pat and a stare and finally a nod. "It's because they're not conflicted. They're direct. They know their purpose and it is simple, straightforward. We're a mess, Catch, we humans. We want so many different things and haven't the slightest idea of any of it, most of the time. How do you make sense of it? How do you make sense of us? I remember it, my friend, a few years back, before Underdark. I remember the noise. The constant noise going on in my own head: Doubts. Hopes. Questions. Problems. Fears. Darkness and light. We drown in it every day. We marinate in it every night, only to wake up drowning once more. How are you to navigate through that, Catch? Through us? You haven't even a map."

Such a smile, then. Flashed and held, from his eyes to his lips to the poor, bedraggled madman before him. "You have a mapmaker though, don't you? I spent my life working it out, working them out, and you have me, here, and I care ever so much, Catch. Ever so much."
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby catch » Wed Dec 26, 2012 5:50 am

He would not hurt Glenn Burnie. He never would, save by terrible accident. He was not a Mind, right now; he was unhappy, confused emotion, and that touch, gentle touches to slack cheeks, meant the sun and the moon and the world to him. He would flinch, at the first. Undoubtedly, he would flinch, because he knew that his answers were not the ones Ser Glenn wanted, and long years' experience told him the penalty for it. He flushes at the things he says, of fear, of lankiness and scar, and that he was not frightening. Slights against his drow-friends, which was nothing new. Further mention of the Eight, and though his hands squirm, clasped, between his knees, his head is still, afraid to frighten such friendly, gentle touches away.

His speech is not lost. That uncertainty was something he could understand, and it shocked him to hear of this coming from Glenn, that, perhaps, all that self-confidence, all that Knowing, was flawed, false. A lie. That other people were not the strange, ever-dying Godlings he thought, that could read his face and his mind, and could read the marks on pages, and make pretty skirts and pretty food, and mirrors to admire them all. They made so much, and he made nothing. "Th-th-they are wh-what they are, Ser. Like the Dreamlady." Timid. He did not want to bring the Dreamlady to Glenn's attentions, but she was what he could use to hold the Eight up to, to compare. Wild. Knowing. Comfortable in their skins.

"C-c-can I, can I even learn how t-t-to read a map?"
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby Glenn » Wed Dec 26, 2012 7:28 am

The touch was gentle and kind. This was a gentle and kind day, a day for honesty, for caring. Didn't he tell Catch that? Didn't he mean it? "Like the dreamlady." He nodded to that, because it was fine. Another bad influence for Catch. Of course he was drawn to them. Why were there never benign presences such as that in Myrken? Perhaps that was his point. Humans had the capacity for great good and great evil but at least with them it was a choice. "And we're so unlike that, aren't we Catch? We humans. That's what makes us great. All of the churning, all of the possibilities, that we can fight our nature, that through doing just that we become strong. And where have people had to do that more than here?" Of course they weren't afraid of him. He was afraid of them and he was right to be so.

Ah, but there was a question there. "Catch, you have me to help teach you. What else could you possibly need?"
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby catch » Wed Dec 26, 2012 7:58 am

It was a fair question. Fair, and kind, and even as Catch's body flooded with relief, that he has found the correct answer at last, there was that stray, rebellious thought, that even this was not the Glenn Burnie who had brought him in, had fed him, had so many insatiable questions. The Kind Glenn, the Demanding Glenn; they were nothing like the Question-Glenn, the Truth-Seeker. Catch devoured Glenn's smiling, commanding face with his mismatched eyes, wondering where the young-Glenn had gone, inside the Worm-Paths. He wondered, a little, if this, too, was a lie. Not a purposeful one. Not one that would hurt. But the every-day lies, the Truths Catch had thought, until Glenn explained how insecure they all were.

"A b-b-b-better me, m-maybe," he says, softly. It is not any lack of confidence in Glenn; it is a lack of confidence in himself. "I'll. I'll t-t-t-try, I p-p-promise." So many promises.
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Re: A Man to Man Talk

Postby Glenn » Thu Dec 27, 2012 4:00 am

Truths. Truth was what you made it. That's one thing Glenn had learned at a young age. There's a power to belief, of course, but it was a relative thing, an untrustworthy thing. There are absolutes about human nature, about the way the world worked, but these were indirect truths. They were not Truth itself. That was what humans made for themselves. Once you realized that, you could start to make a difference in this world.

He had.

Now, though, he was on his feet. "I'll have to talk to Cinnabar, of course. Once, not too long ago, he was in a position not unlike you. Without a map, without a way to read one. He learned." Softly, even as he was walking away, even as he hesitated at the door. "Catch, someday, we'll all be gone, all of us, and you will still be here. Or there, somewhere. And what you will learn from me in the weeks and months to come will help you during the rest of forever. I don't want your promise, because mine is enough for both of us."
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