theweakhavepurpose | Hadriel Inbox

A legacy beyond yourself. That's something isn't it?

[Pratt understands. He's going to be remembered as a traitor and a coward and a murderer and worst of all as being weak. Too weak to resist the conditioning, too weak to kill Jacob, and too weak to save Rook.

He'd tried. Fuck how he'd tried but ultimately it hadn't helped.

Well... maybe it had but he'd never know. Slowly dying alone and in the dark with only the monitors replaying his torture to keep him company.

Here he isn't a traitor and isn't a coward. He definitely isn't much fun to be around, but not because they think he might kill them. So that's something anyway. ]

It's been nice meeting people who have no idea who I am. Or what I've done. A fresh start.

I .. honestly haven't been utilizing that as much as I should. I dwell too much on the past. But I need to focus on the future - even if it's here.

Personal development right? My boss would be thrilled.

[Carlisle smiles.] As would I.

[And as someone who feels he relates to Pratt on a personal level, as they have both clearly experienced hardships that shaped them into men plagued by their own guilt and remorse, he genuinely means that. He's happy he seems to finally be moving forward himself rather than stagnating in regrets of a past he cannot change, and while those regrets still haunt him, it is progress, more than he ever made on his own. He would be pleased to see others do the same, to be given the opportunities he has been blessed with.

Accepting that he need not be alone with his burdens was, perhaps, the most challenging hurdle of all, a frightening deviation from what he had done for years. Not only would he feel accomplishment with himself for helping someone out of a similar situation, but his goddess would look favorably upon such an act. There is purpose in helping others, he reminds himself, however futile it often seems.]

I, too, have described it as a fresh start. Back home, the Longinmouths are well known, even legendary in our region. Warriors, hunters, scholars, magicians -- each has left their mark on the world for generations, tales woven about their exploits reaching far and wide. It all led down to me.

[His smile fades, a rueful tinge coloring him as he opens up.]

I am the end of it, as I said. I am the one who damned it by being cursed. I am the failure of my lineage, and everyone knows it. My work for the church has redeemed me in the eyes of a few, but to many beyond our village, I am known simply as the Longinmouth heir, a title said with more disdain than it once held. Nothing I can do will bring back my uncles or my father. The world was stripped of three capable hunters, each having saved so many... and all that remains is a man who cannot even look himself in the mirror some days.

[His fingers tighten on the bandage around his arm, the ink stains there long dried, but the residue still prominent enough to be felt beneath his nails.]

But knowing that I had none of that lineage here -- no bloodline to loom over my head, no weight to my name -- it was as though a weight was lifted from me. I still feel it some days, but I am trying to take advantage of this freedom I have been given in the hopes of finding a future I was not afforded before. I encourage you to do the same.

Edited 2019-02-28 00:47 (UTC)

[He nods in understanding. Of everyone he's met, even those who have meant well and cheered him up and he'd been able to somewhat trust - Tinya or Peter or Kettara... They don't really understand, not in the way that Carlisle does.

And they probably never will. He wouldn't have been able to if such terrible things hadn't befallen him first. He didn't thoroughly comprehend soul crushing guilt and regret and the bitter taste of remorse that will never be enough.]

That's a lot to live up to. Impossible footsteps to follow in. But no one here knows any of that. You're the first Longinmouth I've ever met, and though I'm not going to have generations of people to tell about you, you made a mark on me. That's something right?

[He smiles again, this time a little less sad and forced - it almost reaches his eyes.]

[And there's Carlisle's smile again, his grin widening to match Pratt's as he gives a polite bow of his head.]

That is indeed something. As the first Longinmouth you've ever met, I should do my best to not further embarrass my family name. My list of accomplishments thus far may be small, but like a garden, it grows ever steadily if nurtured. It... merely needs someone to look after it from time to time, just to make sure it does not become too overgrown, unable to see the light.

[Look at them smiling and having a normal conversation like normal people who aren't reclusive shut ins that don't want to talk to anyone ever. And wow, he is a master at those gardening metaphors. ]

That sounds like a healthy attitude to have. I think we got this. We can adapt and overcome this... whatever this is. Purgatory.

[he mostly means him, Carlisle has been here long enough that he's already had to find his place and fight his demons. Pratt's only been here for six months.]

[One might almost mistake them for regular people.]

A prison between worlds, a life beyond death, or perhaps a second chance for those undeserving of it. No matter what this place may have been intended for, it is, at times, what one makes of it.

[He gives Pratt one more polite nod.]

If you have any questions about your stone -- or simply need an ear to hear your troubles -- I am but a few doors away.

Thanks.

I might.. actually do that. Some day.

[When he gets up the courage to admit that he is not okay and that maybe talking to other people would actually help. But that won't be anytime soon.

Though this at least is a step in the right directions.]

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