[It's all right, Pratt. Carlisle's entire family met with misfortune because he lived when he should have died. The twice-cursed are a blight upon all they meet, bad luck and unavoidable troubles personified. He is the last of his bloodline, the failure damned to be the end of it, and in a desperate attempt to save more from suffering the tragedy that follows him, he sequestered himself away in his estate for years, limiting his contact with people to only the occasional sighting at his church. He gets it.
And yet, despite everything, even he could not help but make a few friends here, people who cajoled him out of his shell of melancholic solitude. He would never say this place with its false deities is an ideal world, but there is good that came with the bad, and more often than not, he finds what he has gained here to be substantial enough that he'd consider it an improvement over his old life. This place is not Bear Den -- when he arrived, people did not know of his name, his failure. He was able to figure out who he is apart from the Longinmouth legacy and his condition, and it has been... enlightening. Freeing. He's discovered talents he never knew he had, strengths he had never allowed himself to explore in his world for fear of what might happen if he strayed too far from home. He has learned to cope with his fears rather than run from them.
Well... sometimes. He still runs more often than not, and there are days where hiding in his closet is still preferable to facing the world, but he's a far cry from the man who was taken from Bear Den so long ago, a man who marched inexorably toward death's door with no true purpose in life, save for his servitude.
He has more now, and with his demise further from his mind thanks to Glacius' energies, he is eager to keep what he has. The friends he's made aren't his because of his name, or his father, or his uncles. They're his, and that means more to him than he can express.
Carlisle gives Pratt a genuine smile at his agreement.]
It is not all good, obviously, but there is much here to be cherished for as long as we have it, and much to be found about ourselves that we may not have found back home. I- I never realized I'd ever be any good at glyphcrafting, and had I not had a reason to work on it, perhaps I never would have been. And look now.
[He gestures to the magic rock.]
It's... something that's mine. Something I can claim I had a hand in. Were I to die tomorrow, I would be able to say I made an impression in some way in this existence -- a positive one, at that -- and that is... encouraging in a way I once believe impossible.
no subject
And yet, despite everything, even he could not help but make a few friends here, people who cajoled him out of his shell of melancholic solitude. He would never say this place with its false deities is an ideal world, but there is good that came with the bad, and more often than not, he finds what he has gained here to be substantial enough that he'd consider it an improvement over his old life. This place is not Bear Den -- when he arrived, people did not know of his name, his failure. He was able to figure out who he is apart from the Longinmouth legacy and his condition, and it has been... enlightening. Freeing. He's discovered talents he never knew he had, strengths he had never allowed himself to explore in his world for fear of what might happen if he strayed too far from home. He has learned to cope with his fears rather than run from them.
Well... sometimes. He still runs more often than not, and there are days where hiding in his closet is still preferable to facing the world, but he's a far cry from the man who was taken from Bear Den so long ago, a man who marched inexorably toward death's door with no true purpose in life, save for his servitude.
He has more now, and with his demise further from his mind thanks to Glacius' energies, he is eager to keep what he has. The friends he's made aren't his because of his name, or his father, or his uncles. They're his, and that means more to him than he can express.
Carlisle gives Pratt a genuine smile at his agreement.]
It is not all good, obviously, but there is much here to be cherished for as long as we have it, and much to be found about ourselves that we may not have found back home. I- I never realized I'd ever be any good at glyphcrafting, and had I not had a reason to work on it, perhaps I never would have been. And look now.
[He gestures to the magic rock.]
It's... something that's mine. Something I can claim I had a hand in. Were I to die tomorrow, I would be able to say I made an impression in some way in this existence -- a positive one, at that -- and that is... encouraging in a way I once believe impossible.