[ When he falls. What does that look like? He's no stranger to negative emotions and upset, he's perhaps a little strange at times but he's always been stalwart. No, he doesn't fall much, but maybe it's more like a violent break, a splinter. The last thing he wants right now is to hurt someone along the way, hurt Jiaoqiu along the way. ]
[ He breathes. It's not that he wants Jiaoqiu to be afraid either. Fuck, nothing would be worse than for people to be afraid of him, especially people he cares about, the ones he swears to protect.
In the past, I shut it away and did not look at it. It sent me down a Path I can't escape.
[ ... ]
I will tell you what I should've done, and what I've been learning to do.
I reach out a hand, and several reach back. I remember that it hurts, when I am incapable of helping someone, and try to open my heart up to be helped in turn.
It is difficult. I don't want to be a burden. But I think you wouldn't call me one, would you?
[ That's always been easy for him to say. The problem has never been a single one of you to him, good people -- all good people. It's just not fair. I'll give you him from after his other thing, which means he looks down at his hands and it's probably looking rough, a lot of splinters, a roughness like he's dug them into raw wood. ]
[ There's a soft twitch of his fingertips but he makes no other moves. ]
I don't want to hurt anybody.
[ That's really the thing, no matter what, despite everything. He feels like he wants to break something but he can't allow himself to hurt anyone despite it. There's no one to hurt except himself, but he's not stupid enough to bash his head against a wall until it works. But like -- what the fuck else is he supposed to do, then? ]
[ He's tried. Again and again he's tried. His nightmare would be to harm the innocent, to lay hands on those that don't deserve it. His hands have dealt plenty of punches, broken plenty of bones, but there was always some justification to it. They pulled the knife first. They threatened his sister. It was in the ring, controlled. He had to. He never thought about whether he wanted to.
A finger gives the occasional twitch as larger splinters are removed, but he doesn't react too much. Too used to it, thick-skinned, at least physically. Easy to conflate with emotional thickness too. ]
Like... sparring, yes? But you want the punishment of it. [ he glances at marcoh, and then looks back down at his work. bit by bit. ]
Hurting yourself is also hurting the innocent. So perhaps we find some other way to let it out, if you can't find someone to fight - so these bad feelings and snarls don't crowd up in your chest. Does that sound like something you'd want to do?
Well, I've killed many people in my time on the frontlines. Does that make me guilty here? Forever? Will you judge me for this? Shall I hold onto it forever and tell you that I'm not innocent either, as I pluck my fur from my tail?
[ Too bad this is the literal evening before thoughtshare because he definitely seems to have Some Thoughts, glancing to the side a bit, but he doesn't argue with Jiaoqiu. He pretty much never does, likes him too much to push back.
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[ No solace, no conversation, no comfort. ]
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I'm not here to take, Marcoh, I'm here to catch you when you fall. Whatever that looks like.
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Don't.
[ You shouldn't. ]
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I'm not afraid of you, Marcoh. [ gently. ] It has been so difficult for you these past few days. I can't imagine.
[ ... ]
Please don't shut yourself away. It'll only make it hurt worse.
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He shakes his head, a jerky motion. ]
You've been dealing with it longer.
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[ he glances over, even if he can only really see the outline. ]
And even if it were, it is something I've been handling for around two hundred more years than you have. Don't pity me, hm? I don't need it.
I have done it alone, and I don't want that for you.
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What do you do, when it gets too much?
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[ ... ]
I will tell you what I should've done, and what I've been learning to do.
I reach out a hand, and several reach back. I remember that it hurts, when I am incapable of helping someone, and try to open my heart up to be helped in turn.
It is difficult. I don't want to be a burden. But I think you wouldn't call me one, would you?
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[ That's always been easy for him to say. The problem has never been a single one of you to him, good people -- all good people. It's just not fair. I'll give you him from after his other thing, which means he looks down at his hands and it's probably looking rough, a lot of splinters, a roughness like he's dug them into raw wood. ]
...
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Then you know I will tell you that you aren't either.
[ a beat. ]
Can I see your hands, Marcoh?
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[ It's not quite that. But after a moment he relent his hands. ]
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[ he telegraphs reaching out - holds his own hands out, slowly, and lets marcoh put them in his own before he does anything else. ]
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I feel like I'm going to explode.
Like I want to break something.
[ His palms are facing up but he doesn't do a whole lot of helpful work in actually giving them TO Jiaoqiu for inspection. ]
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[ well, then very carefully he'll touch marcoh's hands, just with his fingertips. waits. ]
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I don't want to hurt anybody.
[ That's really the thing, no matter what, despite everything. He feels like he wants to break something but he can't allow himself to hurt anyone despite it. There's no one to hurt except himself, but he's not stupid enough to bash his head against a wall until it works. But like -- what the fuck else is he supposed to do, then? ]
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[ he keeps one hand there, and the other reaches for his bag, for tweezers. he's gonna get some of these wood slivers out. ]
I don't want you to hurt yourself in turn, though.
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A finger gives the occasional twitch as larger splinters are removed, but he doesn't react too much. Too used to it, thick-skinned, at least physically. Easy to conflate with emotional thickness too. ]
I think I want to.
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You want to hurt yourself? [ still working, bit by bit. ]
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[ Words are hard. Admittance is harder. He stares hard into the grass between his fingers, the ground between them both. ]
I don't know. I don't want to hurt anybody but I feel like I might. But I don't want to -- I'd rather they hurt me back.
[ At the very, very least. ]
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Like... sparring, yes? But you want the punishment of it. [ he glances at marcoh, and then looks back down at his work. bit by bit. ]
Hurting yourself is also hurting the innocent. So perhaps we find some other way to let it out, if you can't find someone to fight - so these bad feelings and snarls don't crowd up in your chest. Does that sound like something you'd want to do?
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You know I am not innocent.
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I can't blame you for things you had to do.
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You don't have to let go or forget. But please forgive yourself just a little.
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He just nods once, small and stiff. ]
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