He thinks about protesting that he has spoken to more than just them, he's been working on building a support network since the day he got here, but when his mind goes to drum up examples, it... well, better he look stupid than open his mouth and prove it.
He gives a dry, single laugh. "It'll be nice to complain to someone who isn't so tangled up in the circles I usually run in. Mm. Where do we start?"
God, it's a fucking laundry list. Well, the widower thing surely doesn't need saying; that's just the sort of thing he needs to quietly cradle close to his heart until he can grow around it. The disaster that is the relationships between his company? That feels like gossip, and he still needs to talk with Helena anyway.
If Phil had told someone more responsible, he would've likely lead with that. Instead of the world's most irritable French teenager, someone still getting its head around being a person, and Erin.
"That was from... the Daisy incident, yes?" he remembers it, even if only vaguely, from Dimitri's recounting of it.
"I'm all ears, Mr Connors," he indicates with a tilt of his head. Has Phil noticed that Ossie has elf-like ears? He does. The Gentry aren't terribly inventive.
Of course he has. There’s little he doesn’t notice, especially physically.
“… Okay. Well.”
He takes a breath, poking at his food while he tries to think of how to even begin on that one.
“Yeah, it was the Daisy thing. Honestly, it’s. We both expected it to go away. Everyone did. That’s what happens, right? So I didn’t really pursue her on it specifically. I didn’t have to. I sort of caught her and talked with her about the, uh, rest of… what she did, but the eye, even though it got in the way every day it was supposed to disappear the next time I died. And then it just. Didn’t.
He hasn’t looked up from his plate. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it was because it was there for so long, but people have had tattoos disappear. I guess it’s just some kind of… whoops in the process that time. I got Daisy to apologize. That was… complicated. She’s complicated. And she’s really trying, and I appreciate that so much from her. But I still. Have this.”
Ossie nods along. And maybe it's the same warp and weft of story that runs through him, the places in which he feels the rhyme, or maybe it's just ego and the assumption that he knows how Phil feels, but as if pulled from him on a cord he continues-
"A disfigurement. A change in your ability, to boot. The man you see in the mirror is not the same man you got used to seeing. And I cannot imagine knowing that the condition is permanent when other things aren't would help, wot? You poor thing."
He hopes it comes across as sympathy for his position, and not condescension.
Phil is not only a man with the most powerful good faith on the planet, he is also desperately grasping for anything that makes him feel validated in being angry and bitter. He forks a piece of omelette and is off from center by one prong too many.
“Yeah. And…” I haven’t had a scar in— “… I know life is unfair, but geez. I worried for a while about being able to broadcast again, but I could probably just wear a contact. Which, that’s the other thing, I—I should probably have a patch because it gives me headaches sometimes, but I would honestly rather drown than draw more attention to it than I already have.
“And I… know it’s still bad and no one’s running a damn competition, and any one of them would cut my head off for thinking this, but there are… I mean, with all the crazy dramatic histories of people here, it. Some part of me feels like it just doesn’t matter. Not here.”
"It isn't a competition, no. But... there's others ahead of you in the soup queue, so to speak. Aren't there? Even if it's a constant inconvenience, one you are still adapting to, one that impacts your every waking moment, one you are unsure of how to manage, how to even complain about the ruddy thing in the right way. Rather like moving into a new apartment and struggling to sort the annoyances from the issues."
Funny, isn't it. He used to talk to so many entirely average people back in London, and how many of them shimmered with the same colours as he weaves here. Not just Changelings- they don't have a monopoly on pain- but people working out how to welcome in arthritis for the first time, accepting the change in their dreams that comes from injury.
"I used to be a gambling man, Phil, and I don't think I ever placed a surer bet than that the very people who would decapitate you for thinking so... are feeling precisely the same thing, at times."
It's like magic. Well, it probably is magic, but he just marvels at the way Ossie so deftly untangles the briar of his thoughts, this frayed snarl of frustration and stress and split ends. Because yeah. Yeah.
There is really something about it, when you realize you are just never going to be someone going through life with ease now. And he doesn't even know how to complain about it. Which sucks, because complaining is how he copes. Frankly he also doesn't even know if he has forty years left of this or two hundred.
"Yeah... yeah," he nods, sighing. And then puts his face in his hands and just, breathes a very long-suffering groan.
Phil just kind of waves a hand at him without looking up. “I’m fine, I just need to be dramatic for sec.”
He luxuriates in the abject misery of being a guy in a chair with his face in his hands for a little bit, then sits up again with a sigh, straightening out his shirt.
“Sorry about that. It’s just… relieving to hear that, someone who’s getting where I’m coming from. Putting stuff to words that I couldn’t figure out myself. And that I’m not just being, I don’t know, prissy or something.” It’s always been tricky to sift his petty and unsympathetic grievances from the justified ones, even if the success rate is higher these days.
“It’s also nice to have someone telling me this is something I can be upset about without also sliding in the message that I need to learn to be more mad more often in general.”
"Take your time," he offers, being someone who knows the virtue of being a bit dramatic from time to time.
"Please, no need. Just as long as I'm wearing this brooch, you can say what you like. If I need a break, I can always take it off again, wot? Nothing wrong with a little prissiness from time to time, especially when you need it."
He leans back over to his side of the table.
"To be perfectly blunt, who on earth am I to be telling you what to feel? Just as irksome as telling someone they ought to be happier more often. One can't force these things."
He glances at that brooch. He wonders, vaguely, what it really does beside give the man talons and a title, but… Ossie is responsible enough to handle himself, surely. He shouldn’t worry.
“No, but it was more like… allowing myself to be upset with people when stuff happens even if it’s understandable why they might not have… ugh, nevermind.” He’s doing it again.
"I want to be kind," he not-growls. "I want to understand. I want--to, to be a guy who maybe you don't want to piss off but you're not afraid of pissing off, right? But I also don't want to get angry. I won't think right when I'm angry. But Demona--"
And then a real growl as the freshest anger bubbles up again, "--god, I wish I could just be mad at her! But no, not only does she have all this damage, one of my close friends who I like much better is in kind of the same boat as her and is really sympathetic to her situation, and I can't just..."
"We all have damage. Many of it rhymes with each other's. If you want my permission to be angry, in here, where it can't hurt her or anyone else, you have it. Throw a teacup or two if you like. While I'm at it, have every permission- I'm not going to tell you to be angry or not to be angry, but if you want to be conflicted about it, if you want to feel one way and act another, you may."
That expression doesn't waver, even when he growls.
"What outcome do you want from this whole mess? With Demona, I mean."
Oh, he wants to do more than throw a teacup. But he won't do that to Ossie's nice place.
"I'm not gonna be wanting the same thing I got with Daisy. I want us to be able to live on this ship without her attacking one of mine at the bare minimum. She can hang around my friends if she behaves, but unless we're being forced to cooperate, she stays away from me and my family."
He angrily forks at his food and eats some. Maybe that will make him feel better.
"I was saying to Johnny this very issue. That if someone were to behave in a truly antisocial manner, we have little recourse for them. Still- you've sounded the horn, so to speak, and I've no doubt that if you or yours were in need again, people would come to your defense."
Ossie leans back in his chair again, "and what of what you can control, in this situation? How do you want to move forward?"
“The only thing you can control is yourself, right?” he scoffs. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Like you said, I already put out the word, and I’m not in the mood for planning apologies.”
Wow, they’re really running the gamut here. That’s one hell of a transition, which is to say none at all.
“I—give a guy a minute, ehn?”
He sips at his coffee while he tries to switch gears. When he does, he sighs, the rage boiling off, leaving room for regret to settle in like a shroud.
“Yeah, I… I did. Stupid of me, honestly, it was… after the July excursion. We met up again. I’d… gotten injured. Pretty badly. They weren’t there to see it, but after we revived, I was in too much of a hurry to clean up, and Darcy didn’t…” sigh, “take seeing it very well. And later they asked if I was okay, and they’re not someone you hide stuff from, so I said no, and I told them why.”
He’s sort of just staring off at a spot somewhere to the left of Ossie. “It was way too much. I didn’t have to explain it the way I did. Somehow I didn’t… expect them to care that much. Which isn’t on them, they always care, but for some reason I…”
Darcy’s nausea. Cass’ tears. Grace’s fury.
“Somehow it’s strange to see people care about me. Them reacting that badly didn’t feel like a possibility at all.”
"That was a 'would you like', Phil. I can take a no. I'm an expert at graceful rejections, in fact," he teases, allowing Phil his moment to recover.
...
Christ, what is it with people aboard this ship and making baffling decisions with teenagers. Darcy specifically, now he thinks of it. He shifts a little, to be closer to where Phil is staring.
"They do often try and posture more sophisticated and sturdy than they are. Children, I do mean. And often we don't know what we mean to people until that sort of thing happens. Injury, illness, et cetera. Especially here, where we have grown quite used to death being a non-permanent thing, wot? Tch-" Ossie clicks his tongue- "I do wish we had non-fiction aboard this ship. Have you happened to have read any Didion?"
“The answer was yes, I just thought the proverbial sidewalk had a bit more to go before it cut off into someone’s lawn.”
Here, like this, he can taste the bitterness of his own convictions. Any comfort at all on the topic of his eye was one he’d taken easily, but doing the same now feels… unsavory. Unfair. It shouldn’t matter how Darcy postures if he’s the one who’s supposed to know better. It shouldn’t matter how used he is to dying if he’s supposed to be better. And it isn’t fair to Ossie either, who doesn’t know anything about the loop or his reservations around being a dad. It’s his own fault, really, just as the rest of this is.
“A little. I can’t claim familiarity with her work, though. Why?”
"Back home, I was given an essay of hers to read. 'On self respect'," and he makes a point of wincing because it was not one he was given as a fun beach read.
"Wish I had it here, she writes terribly eloquently. The key to it was that fostering a healthy self respect means acknowledging your mistakes, living with them, and assigning them their appropriate weight. Understanding that you are not uniquely flawed, that your loved ones aren't irredeemably blind for failing to notice your defects, nor are they uniquely generous or empathetic for forgiving you for them. Much prettier out of her mouth, I'm afraid. You know back when the memory portals were opened, I aided in torturing Dimitri for a frankly allegoric amount of time?"
He takes a long sip of his tea. Just to take a moment.
"Myself in the past did, in any case. And worse, he met a version of me before all of my nasty unseemly damage. Gah. Dreadful. Worst case scenario. The very worst version of me, and the version I am certain everyone would prefer. Terribly charming fellow, that one. But... even so. Seeing the worst of what I am capable of, and seeing my best days long behind me, he prefers to know me as I am. To consider me his friend. He's not an unintelligent boy, his judgement is usually better than most. So I suppose if I am to continue to trust in him, I must simply trust that there are reasons he cares for me now. Does that make sense? Terribly sorry, still getting used to the whole-" vague wavy hand-gesture, "telling the truth about things. Awful. Like pulling teeth. Utterly uncharming."
Phil wonders how much of this--not the whole thing of what they're doing, but this bit right here--is more for Ossie. At the same time, it is very much for Phil, to admit all of this. None of it is light. Phil saw it himself, those red eyes, the perfect skin, the graceful hands. Remembers the joy that Dimitri got to shed that touch.
He listens. Tries not to misunderstand. He's very still.
"I don't think I'm uniquely bad or that they're uniquely blind. I don't have to be unique to just... be someone with issues sometimes." He wishes people would trust that he's smarter than that. He wasn't unique before. He certainly isn't now.
...
Darcy saw him at his worst. Darcy's tolerance for bad is also much, much deeper than that.
"Darcy's. Not that stupid. But."
But.
"They're so loyal. When they think you're worthy of it, they swear fealty, and then that's it. I..." a hand swipes down his face over an inhale, "they're just... an adult they trusted in their life tried to turn them into just, some, some attack dog. And they trusted him and followed that. And then Skulduggery killed them in his negligence and yeah, Darcy actually got pissed at him for it and Skuls was regretful, and Darcy bullied me in a memory where I was just, the worst, I figured out how to end myself before I figured out how to make a single friend, but I... I know what I did isn't some, some apocalypse on our relationship. But I--"
...
"I don't know that I really figured out what it meant until then. How much they were willing to do for me. How much they were willing to justify. Hurting each other is one thing. Even my wife and I hurt each other. Deeply, sometimes. But I. I wish... I wish I could trust--"
That if I were making them worse, they would leave.
That's not fair to Ossie or Dimitri's decisions though, is it? Even what Ossie described, it's not that. It's not.
"That," Ossie says softly, "is the very reason why the training of child soldiers are abhorrent. Adults are one thing, but children rely on us for safety, love, comfort. They will starve themselves before they let go of it."
Wire mother, cloth mother.
"I wish I had something more comforting for you than that... you have to be the adult. You need not be perfect, of course, but. You have to be the adult. You have to manage your behaviour, you need to ensure that you're safe to be around. I've every faith you won't make the same mistake again."
"I know," he grumbles, and as though he's reciting it, "A dad doesn't have to be perfect. He just has to be there."
He'd made that vow already. That if Darcy can't leave, then he has to make staying worth it. It doesn't get any easier. They've run this topic in a circle, but maybe it's done something to hear it outside of his own head.
...
"Sorry about the, uh. Memory stuff with you and him."
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 02:42 am (UTC)He gives a dry, single laugh. "It'll be nice to complain to someone who isn't so tangled up in the circles I usually run in. Mm. Where do we start?"
God, it's a fucking laundry list. Well, the widower thing surely doesn't need saying; that's just the sort of thing he needs to quietly cradle close to his heart until he can grow around it. The disaster that is the relationships between his company? That feels like gossip, and he still needs to talk with Helena anyway.
"I. Guess we could talk about my eye."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 06:18 am (UTC)"That was from... the Daisy incident, yes?" he remembers it, even if only vaguely, from Dimitri's recounting of it.
"I'm all ears, Mr Connors," he indicates with a tilt of his head. Has Phil noticed that Ossie has elf-like ears? He does. The Gentry aren't terribly inventive.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 06:55 am (UTC)“… Okay. Well.”
He takes a breath, poking at his food while he tries to think of how to even begin on that one.
“Yeah, it was the Daisy thing. Honestly, it’s. We both expected it to go away. Everyone did. That’s what happens, right? So I didn’t really pursue her on it specifically. I didn’t have to. I sort of caught her and talked with her about the, uh, rest of… what she did, but the eye, even though it got in the way every day it was supposed to disappear the next time I died. And then it just. Didn’t.
He hasn’t looked up from his plate. “I don’t know. I thought maybe it was because it was there for so long, but people have had tattoos disappear. I guess it’s just some kind of… whoops in the process that time. I got Daisy to apologize. That was… complicated. She’s complicated. And she’s really trying, and I appreciate that so much from her. But I still. Have this.”
Gestures at his face.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 07:13 am (UTC)"A disfigurement. A change in your ability, to boot. The man you see in the mirror is not the same man you got used to seeing. And I cannot imagine knowing that the condition is permanent when other things aren't would help, wot? You poor thing."
He hopes it comes across as sympathy for his position, and not condescension.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 08:54 am (UTC)“Yeah. And…” I haven’t had a scar in— “… I know life is unfair, but geez. I worried for a while about being able to broadcast again, but I could probably just wear a contact. Which, that’s the other thing, I—I should probably have a patch because it gives me headaches sometimes, but I would honestly rather drown than draw more attention to it than I already have.
“And I… know it’s still bad and no one’s running a damn competition, and any one of them would cut my head off for thinking this, but there are… I mean, with all the crazy dramatic histories of people here, it. Some part of me feels like it just doesn’t matter. Not here.”
no subject
Date: 2023-10-22 09:20 am (UTC)Funny, isn't it. He used to talk to so many entirely average people back in London, and how many of them shimmered with the same colours as he weaves here. Not just Changelings- they don't have a monopoly on pain- but people working out how to welcome in arthritis for the first time, accepting the change in their dreams that comes from injury.
"I used to be a gambling man, Phil, and I don't think I ever placed a surer bet than that the very people who would decapitate you for thinking so... are feeling precisely the same thing, at times."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-23 07:18 am (UTC)There is really something about it, when you realize you are just never going to be someone going through life with ease now. And he doesn't even know how to complain about it. Which sucks, because complaining is how he copes. Frankly he also doesn't even know if he has forty years left of this or two hundred.
"Yeah... yeah," he nods, sighing. And then puts his face in his hands and just, breathes a very long-suffering groan.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-23 08:29 am (UTC)"Glad I wasn't overreaching. Are you alright? Do you need a moment?"
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Date: 2023-10-23 09:05 am (UTC)He luxuriates in the abject misery of being a guy in a chair with his face in his hands for a little bit, then sits up again with a sigh, straightening out his shirt.
“Sorry about that. It’s just… relieving to hear that, someone who’s getting where I’m coming from. Putting stuff to words that I couldn’t figure out myself. And that I’m not just being, I don’t know, prissy or something.” It’s always been tricky to sift his petty and unsympathetic grievances from the justified ones, even if the success rate is higher these days.
“It’s also nice to have someone telling me this is something I can be upset about without also sliding in the message that I need to learn to be more mad more often in general.”
no subject
Date: 2023-10-23 09:13 am (UTC)"Please, no need. Just as long as I'm wearing this brooch, you can say what you like. If I need a break, I can always take it off again, wot? Nothing wrong with a little prissiness from time to time, especially when you need it."
He leans back over to his side of the table.
"To be perfectly blunt, who on earth am I to be telling you what to feel? Just as irksome as telling someone they ought to be happier more often. One can't force these things."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-23 05:39 pm (UTC)“No, but it was more like… allowing myself to be upset with people when stuff happens even if it’s understandable why they might not have… ugh, nevermind.” He’s doing it again.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 02:31 am (UTC)He leans his cheek on his hand, eyeing him with warmth and some mild amusement.
"Do you want to be upset?"
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 05:12 am (UTC)And then a real growl as the freshest anger bubbles up again, "--god, I wish I could just be mad at her! But no, not only does she have all this damage, one of my close friends who I like much better is in kind of the same boat as her and is really sympathetic to her situation, and I can't just..."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 05:30 am (UTC)That expression doesn't waver, even when he growls.
"What outcome do you want from this whole mess? With Demona, I mean."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 05:48 am (UTC)"I'm not gonna be wanting the same thing I got with Daisy. I want us to be able to live on this ship without her attacking one of mine at the bare minimum. She can hang around my friends if she behaves, but unless we're being forced to cooperate, she stays away from me and my family."
He angrily forks at his food and eats some. Maybe that will make him feel better.
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 06:04 am (UTC)"I was saying to Johnny this very issue. That if someone were to behave in a truly antisocial manner, we have little recourse for them. Still- you've sounded the horn, so to speak, and I've no doubt that if you or yours were in need again, people would come to your defense."
Ossie leans back in his chair again, "and what of what you can control, in this situation? How do you want to move forward?"
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 06:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 06:30 am (UTC)So Ossie nods, happy to move on from that line of thinking for now.
"You mentioned that you erred with one of your children a few months ago? Would you like to talk about that?"
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 06:46 am (UTC)“I—give a guy a minute, ehn?”
He sips at his coffee while he tries to switch gears. When he does, he sighs, the rage boiling off, leaving room for regret to settle in like a shroud.
“Yeah, I… I did. Stupid of me, honestly, it was… after the July excursion. We met up again. I’d… gotten injured. Pretty badly. They weren’t there to see it, but after we revived, I was in too much of a hurry to clean up, and Darcy didn’t…” sigh, “take seeing it very well. And later they asked if I was okay, and they’re not someone you hide stuff from, so I said no, and I told them why.”
He’s sort of just staring off at a spot somewhere to the left of Ossie. “It was way too much. I didn’t have to explain it the way I did. Somehow I didn’t… expect them to care that much. Which isn’t on them, they always care, but for some reason I…”
Darcy’s nausea. Cass’ tears. Grace’s fury.
“Somehow it’s strange to see people care about me. Them reacting that badly didn’t feel like a possibility at all.”
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 06:57 am (UTC)...
Christ, what is it with people aboard this ship and making baffling decisions with teenagers. Darcy specifically, now he thinks of it. He shifts a little, to be closer to where Phil is staring.
"They do often try and posture more sophisticated and sturdy than they are. Children, I do mean. And often we don't know what we mean to people until that sort of thing happens. Injury, illness, et cetera. Especially here, where we have grown quite used to death being a non-permanent thing, wot? Tch-" Ossie clicks his tongue- "I do wish we had non-fiction aboard this ship. Have you happened to have read any Didion?"
no subject
Date: 2023-10-25 01:01 pm (UTC)Here, like this, he can taste the bitterness of his own convictions. Any comfort at all on the topic of his eye was one he’d taken easily, but doing the same now feels… unsavory. Unfair. It shouldn’t matter how Darcy postures if he’s the one who’s supposed to know better. It shouldn’t matter how used he is to dying if he’s supposed to be better. And it isn’t fair to Ossie either, who doesn’t know anything about the loop or his reservations around being a dad. It’s his own fault, really, just as the rest of this is.
“A little. I can’t claim familiarity with her work, though. Why?”
no subject
Date: 2023-10-26 04:45 am (UTC)"Wish I had it here, she writes terribly eloquently. The key to it was that fostering a healthy self respect means acknowledging your mistakes, living with them, and assigning them their appropriate weight. Understanding that you are not uniquely flawed, that your loved ones aren't irredeemably blind for failing to notice your defects, nor are they uniquely generous or empathetic for forgiving you for them. Much prettier out of her mouth, I'm afraid. You know back when the memory portals were opened, I aided in torturing Dimitri for a frankly allegoric amount of time?"
He takes a long sip of his tea. Just to take a moment.
"Myself in the past did, in any case. And worse, he met a version of me before all of my nasty unseemly damage. Gah. Dreadful. Worst case scenario. The very worst version of me, and the version I am certain everyone would prefer. Terribly charming fellow, that one. But... even so. Seeing the worst of what I am capable of, and seeing my best days long behind me, he prefers to know me as I am. To consider me his friend. He's not an unintelligent boy, his judgement is usually better than most. So I suppose if I am to continue to trust in him, I must simply trust that there are reasons he cares for me now. Does that make sense? Terribly sorry, still getting used to the whole-" vague wavy hand-gesture, "telling the truth about things. Awful. Like pulling teeth. Utterly uncharming."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-26 07:56 am (UTC)He listens. Tries not to misunderstand. He's very still.
"I don't think I'm uniquely bad or that they're uniquely blind. I don't have to be unique to just... be someone with issues sometimes." He wishes people would trust that he's smarter than that. He wasn't unique before. He certainly isn't now.
...
Darcy saw him at his worst. Darcy's tolerance for bad is also much, much deeper than that.
"Darcy's. Not that stupid. But."
But.
"They're so loyal. When they think you're worthy of it, they swear fealty, and then that's it. I..." a hand swipes down his face over an inhale, "they're just... an adult they trusted in their life tried to turn them into just, some, some attack dog. And they trusted him and followed that. And then Skulduggery killed them in his negligence and yeah, Darcy actually got pissed at him for it and Skuls was regretful, and Darcy bullied me in a memory where I was just, the worst, I figured out how to end myself before I figured out how to make a single friend, but I... I know what I did isn't some, some apocalypse on our relationship. But I--"
...
"I don't know that I really figured out what it meant until then. How much they were willing to do for me. How much they were willing to justify. Hurting each other is one thing. Even my wife and I hurt each other. Deeply, sometimes. But I. I wish... I wish I could trust--"
That if I were making them worse, they would leave.
That's not fair to Ossie or Dimitri's decisions though, is it? Even what Ossie described, it's not that. It's not.
...
no subject
Date: 2023-10-27 04:37 am (UTC)Wire mother, cloth mother.
"I wish I had something more comforting for you than that... you have to be the adult. You need not be perfect, of course, but. You have to be the adult. You have to manage your behaviour, you need to ensure that you're safe to be around. I've every faith you won't make the same mistake again."
no subject
Date: 2023-10-27 06:58 am (UTC)He'd made that vow already. That if Darcy can't leave, then he has to make staying worth it. It doesn't get any easier. They've run this topic in a circle, but maybe it's done something to hear it outside of his own head.
...
"Sorry about the, uh. Memory stuff with you and him."
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