10th Partridge [(anonymous?) Voice/Action]

[pearheaded]

[One thing that's always a bad idea to do: give a tree man something that is typically fine for humans.Case in point, just about anything they stuck him with during his stay with the Malnosso. Yeah, it's one thing to have to deal with cells—hello, unpleasant memories—but dealing with drug poisoning, too? This day couldn't get any more hideous for him.

Well, except he appears to have... tiny branches crawling off his wings and around his back. Complete with little withery leaves (no worries, Ian, they'll go away in a few days).

He's a little too out of it at first to notice them, but about an hour into his fever he finds them. Along with orange tips on his otherwise green hair. Orange, and coarse like straw. The best thing to do, he decides? Curl up into a ball and not talk to anyone for a week. It'll go away, he knows. Besides, he's too busy revisiting his past and being confused to get proper help.

In the middle of his hazy, poison fever, he speaks up on the journal. The little box that would otherwise show his face is masked.]

... I was thinking. You go through life looking for nothing but acceptance and to be like any other person. But then something horrible happens, and you're not sure if it's ever possible—if maybe, just maybe, you're stuck being on the outskirts of everything you wanna be... Maybe someone you thought you could trust turns their back on ya'... or–or maybe you think people can be good, and you suddenly get caught against people who just seem too awful to even exist.

[Malnosso, you're the reasons for this, aren't ya'? Experimenting and tossing people like garbage... like people he's met before.]

How... how do y'cope with that? [a deep, unsure breath; he's busy laying on his back with his palm over the screen]

How do you turn it into something good? Do you keep trying to believe that good things come out of all the things that happen to you...?

[You can actually bump into him while he's sulking in the forest, but he's a hot mess at the moment. Forgive 'em. :|]

Comments

[blessingone]

[Man, she hates doing written responses, but it's a topic she really doesn't want to talk about with a stranger. At the same time, this sounds way too close to what she's gone through to not reply. She has plenty of time to think on it as she carefully ensures that the camera is obscured and very slowly prints to try to minimize the signs of her normal writing. The disguised writing isn't perfect -- for one, there's still more loops and curls than normal printing -- but she hopes it will make it less likely for her to be recognized by people she hasn't talked to about this.]

Sometimes, the only good that comes out of it is when it is done.

[pearheaded]

[More writing! Can't a guy with an awful fever have a moment without straining his eyes? ;;

...

But still, he replies in the usual shaky handwriting (from bad penmanship and fever combined, more than likely.]

thats really sad, isnt it?

[Makes me kinda' weepy, even. ;u;]

its hard to look forward to the end of it when it never really ends
things like to stick with you years later, it feels like...

[blessingone]

[She might switch to voice if he asked! But since she doesn't know that the shakiness is caused by more than bad penmanship, she'll continue writing for now.]

In that way, I guess they're never really over, some of them. But you can find new things. Something that good can come out of.

[She taps the edge of her page, thinking, and before he can finish straining his eyes over what she's written, she adds.]

I know that doesn't always make up for it.

[pearheaded]

[And it makes him sadder, to think about this; coming from a war-torn place, he can only imagine all the awful things people went through... only to have it be their final moments. They never got the chance to find new, good things like him.

In that regard... he finds himself incredibly fortunate.]

i dont spose they do

but


[...]

but the good things always do seem so worthwhile, huh?

[blessingone]

[...She's not entirely sure whether she agrees or not. But she doesn't want him to get depressed, since he seems to be struggling, so, after a long pause, she writes only the positive part.]

Yes. The good things are the ones to hold onto. They are what you have to remember.

[pearheaded]

I won't forget.

Not the bad memories, either. If I ever gave those up, I'd be betraying some of my friends...

[blessingone]

[It takes her a moment to reply.]

Maybe you are right. But I do not think that there is always something good that comes out of the bad memories. It might be only something we have to bear.

[pearheaded]

Yeah.

[He smiles a little.]

Maybe not. Maybe all we can do is try to find more good things.

[blessingone]

[...]

And maybe that is how we find the strength to keep the bad memories. [...] Keep searching.

[pearheaded]

Sounds like a good plan to me. How about you?

[Because you'd have to be blind to not tell you have similiar feelings, at this point.]

[blessingone]

[Another pause, and then she continues with extra care to keep her handwriting generic.]

I will try.