youre_smashing | Cryptic comments and misunderstandings hurrah

Cryptic comments and misunderstandings hurrah

"The uniforms...sing. Supplication and sundering, stout and steady...many hearts come through these halls but they all turn the same way in the end. The learning is less important than the feeling."

...Is the kind of thing Cole mutters as he wanders the halls, following people around with a look on his face like he's about to spill a really personal secret about whoever he's looking at. Someone should probably collect him.

((OOC: Cole has a form of limited mind-reading which basically amounts to him saying extremely vague things about someone's personal pain because he wants to help heal it. Let me know if you ain't cool with that!))

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Garry was walking around and he turned to look Cole's way, and what was he muttering?

From what he was able to hear, it sounded rather, "Huh, that's...rather poetic."

"Poetry...helps. It takes words that can only be beautiful together and frames them, like colors on a painting."

Oh. Hello. Garry took a look at this interesting fellow and found himself...nodding his head in agreement. He could get behind this man, this man spoke good words already. It was impressive

"I see," he said, warmly. "That's actually a very pretty way to put that too. There is an art to it, just like painting."

He also liked that hat. He really liked that hat.

Cole smiles -well, the corners of his mouth tick up for one moment- and pats his hat, before continuing.

"Art is...harder. It brings joy because it's supposed to...you have to pretend if it doesn't."

It may be odd to get into a conversation like this with strangers, but Garry neither noticed nor cared. Cole was promising himself to me more fascinating the more he spoke. To think this all started with Cole sputtering what could be perceived as random and out of place.

But Garry thought it was unique and it wanted him to know more.

"No but I think," Garry started, being the art teacher now he had to be as realistic and true to the values of art, in his eyes anyway. "Art is subjective. There will be someone who never likes your art or your art makes someone upset. But none of that should stop artists from expressing themselves. Whether through paint or words."

"It festers, frustrates...builds up and hardens hearts if it can't get out. Art is is better out than in, even if it dissipates in the air. You understand a lot about it. It helped when you needed it. She was impressed."

Cole feels like this is helping him understand his artist friends. Cole wants to return the favor.

This conversation went from strange in a cool way to strange in a confusing way. It got Garry to halt in his tracks. He never met this man before today, or even seen in a distance. So who could he be talking about, and about what? This gent with a cool hat had to be mistaken in some way.

"I'm sorry?" Garry asked. "Who was impressed? What about my understanding in art?"

"Red, blue and yellow...three roses in a vase but only two can fit. Don't pull any more petals off, I'm begging you! It might wilt on it's own, how can I know it won't?"

Cole concentrates very hard on Gary and then steps back with a nod. "She was glad you returned her handkerchief. It meant you remembered."

Thankfully, Garry wasn't carrying anything, lest it would've fallen on the floor.

No one knew about that. He had told no one, as no one needed to know of all that had happened. So how did this man know all of that and even put it into bizarre poetic context? Garry couldn't even be upset, he was too shocked and floored to be.

However, while Cole added a positive note at the end, Garry couldn't help but shiver at the memories of ripped petals.

"I..." Garry stuttered with a wide eyed expression, "...You, how did you?"

"It sings...Pain but...tied with happiness. Woven together, like a sheet. I could not unravel it without destroying the whole thing, but it is there. I see it, clearly."

Cole seems to think he's explained it as clearly as possible. Gary's reaction wasn't anger, so he's clearly doing very well.

Garry still wasn't angry, no sir. But more and more, well, confused.

"Stop, stop, stop..." Garry somewhat softly muttered. "Hold on, slow down. Stop."

He knew he said that about four times right now, perhaps it was a sign of some panic. Probably.

"Listen to me for a moment, how do you know of this?"

Oh no, what is this beast devouring this poor man's head-- Wait. That's a hat. Oh, okay.

...No, it's not okay! Who is this stranger, with his pale skin and sunken in eyes and weird nonsensical muttering? An addict, is who. And Kiyotaka's ashamed of himself - not for his quick judgment, because it's totally justified as far as he's concerned, but because he barely noticed such a threat until it was right in front of him. Has he gotten this lazy just because monitoring the halls isn't his duty anymore? Student safety is still his concern as a person, darn it.

He points a finger at Cole and ~~shouts~~ definitely uses an indoor voice.

"You there!! Just what do you think you're doing?!"

"Oh, no, I don't have to think about doing most things anymore. I'm used to this shape now."

Kiyotaka is nice to think of helping Cole do things he doesn't have to think about anymore, like standing or smelling, but it's not necessary. His soul burns bright enough to catch Cole's attention, which he expresses by staring wide-eyed at him. Unblinking.

"What--"

Ah, wait. Asking him to clarify is useless. By the look in this guy's eyes, there's no doubt about it. This guy has definitely been... what's that phrase going around... blazing it? He's blazed so much meth. Except for the crazy drugged lollipop fiasco the other year, Kiyotaka hasn't had much experience at all with dealing with people high off their asses but he is pretty sure that one wrong move could result in him getting stabbed. Like hell is he going to back down, though. He stares right back.

"Come with me. I'm escorting you off school grounds at once!"

Cole could make Kiyotaka forget him of course, just wave his hand and vanish...but his pain was shining like a beacon, a giant rock tied around his neck and this is exactly the thing that attracts Cole rather than gets rid of him.

"He thought you were stronger than him, but...the despair made things brittle. He hadn't meant to do it -the bear made him- but that couldn't change anything. He didn't want to admit it couldn't."

For the first few words, Kiyotaka's ready to pass it off as more inane nonsense. This guy sure is the talkative sort, but it's better he loses control of his words than losing control of his temper or something. But certain words in the rambling stick out to him - despair and bear in the same breath never have a good association - and Kiyotaka withdraws his hand, fingers curling into an uncertain fist.

"How do you know about something like that?" He can't. Or else it was that broadcast he's been told about. It doesn't matter anyway. Kitty struggles enough to broach the topic with people he's close with or people who were there, he doesn't want some stranger to start this. "--Never mind that! If you don't follow, I will have to use force!"

Not by beating him or anything. More like grabbing his arm or pushing him from behind or something. Whatever ends up being easier.

"I see hurt," Cole says, casually, like he's pointing out an unusually colored tree, "it burns like fire in you...all heat and no warmth. It scalds, scars, sears...hope turning to ashes."

Cole is able to see that, but not that Kiyotaka is about to get physical with him, so he takes a step forward. He's sure he can untangle this for him.

"I want to help."

Suddenly his resolve is a little... shaky. Which is a thing he normally hates, but this is not at all a normal situation. People have all kinds of freaky powers in this school, so does that mean this guy has some of those? Seeing hurt... Kiyotaka can't pretend he doesn't have an abundance of it, but he can choose to ignore it most of the time.

"...There's nothing to be helped!" And it's true, as far as he knows. It all happened so long ago, nothing can change any of it.

"It lurks, lingers, languishes in the deep parts where you don't let anyone else get to it but it's still there. It keeps forever, even if you bury it."

Maybe he's fouled things up somehow or maybe he just has to push harder to get Kiyotaka to give? Humans are hard: for some reason they never seem to just let you help.

Joel was walking to his class when he noticed the youth wandering and muttering and looking kind of unkempt. (Like he was one to talk.)

"Hey, boy. You alright?"

Probably some student he hadn't met before out of it on The Drugs. Maybe he'd just walk the kid to the school nurse. Get him some water and aspirin and let him sleep it off.

There was so much hurt here, and yet everyone seems to want to help Cole. He doesn't know how to handle this exactly, even if it makes him happy that the people here can be helped.

"Yes, I am. Are you?"

Joel couldn't tell if the kid was being genuine or trying to be a smart ass. He'd play it off like it was the former until he had a clear indication it was the latter. Then he'd get firmer.

"I'm fine. You want me to take you to the nurses station? Get you some water or somethin'?"

That was one of his jobs as a member of faculty, right? Trying to make sure that the students weren't tripping balls out in public?

Cole tilts his head so that his hat covers his eyes.

"Thank you, but I don't need to drink, and...I don't think I get sick. Just like she didn't even when she showed you the infection, remember?"

It's the only way he knows to make Joel understand what he's telling him.

"The hell are you talkin' about, boy? I--"

Wait a second. 'When she showed you the infection...'

Was he reading Joel's mind, somehow? Rifling through his memories? Joel's breathing became heavy and he was immediately defensive.

"You better not be snooping around inside my head, kid."

"It's hurt! It glows, glares, glowers, it tangles around your arms and bends your back! It's...just that most can't see."

Cole considers making Joel forget, but it's too early. He can still make this work.

"You didn't replace her. There was room for both Ellie and Sarah. The edges were softened, supple, not sharpened, even as you tried to make it hurt again..."

Joel was taken aback. Angry, but taken aback. He'd shared one memory - One! - with Henry during the cursed mistletoe event and that had been more than he ever wanted to share. Now this guy was fooling around inside his head like it was the junk drawer in the kitchen, pulling stuff out that didn't need to see the light of day...

"...You don't know what you're talkin' about, boy, and you're treadin' a mighty fine line with me." he growled. His voice was low. Dangerous. If he was a person able to step back a little and think about it rationally, he'd understand he was mostly angry because Cole was right. Smacking the nail on the head.

Oh, now Cole made him angry! It was always so much harder when people got angry. Cole briefly considers making Joel forget Cole was ever here, but...

"...I don't understand. Why are you angry? It's true! You owe her memory nothing, but that you keep it, care for it!" He takes a half step back, trying to be ready. It was easy to see pain, but hard to predict what it was going to make people do.

See, even doing that much was hard for Joel. He had only just started to even try and work through those issues towards the end of his time in his own world. Remembering Sarah became less hurtful the more time he spent with Ellie. He was less closed off about it, even telling Ellie he thought she and Sarah might be friends.

But that was Ellie and this was some guy he'd never met before.

"I'm mad because you're fishin' around inside my head, bringing out private stuff that don't belong to you." he said, advancing a full step to counter the half step Cole had taken. "What gives you the right to fool around in another man's memories?"

"I don't dig! I look and I see, just like anyone. Only I see more. It comes to me unbidden, uncontrollable but not unwanted. I'm a spirit. Demon, some say, but I like spirit better. Once I was called Compassion, but most other times I am called Cole."

The spirit of compassion. That was an interesting proposition. And strangely enough, one he could believe of this place. There was a Sun God here, after all. He just wandered around on fire all day. He'd even heard rumors of some sort of Pokémon God attending here. Maybe more than one. So, OK, the living embodiment of compassion? Sure. He'd buy that.

"If you're some kind've... embodiment of compassion, you don't want anythin' to do with me. I don't got a whole lot of that."

He'd had a normal amount of it once, but it had been thrashed out of him. Blown away. Now even amongst the scraggly and violent remnants of the Human population, he was known as ruthless and cold. He'd accepted and even used that reputation to get by. It had its uses, and it had been earned.

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Cryptic comments and misunderstandings hurrah

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oh no i love them

Another surrogate parent for Cole!

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If only I played someone with any kind of emotional baggage...

You do love your uncomplicated squeaky-clean innocents

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Because this is sure to end well! =D

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This is a stab in the psychological dark here

I think you pretty much nailed it

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