crystal; open

[inagutterson]

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Yngvi
RECIPIENT: Open
WHAT: If you had the chance to change your fate...
WHEN: Backdated to closer to the start of the year (life why are you like this)
WHERE: Gallows
NOTES: Likely to get into some Carta things as well as discussion of less than ideal childhoods and mercy killings. Hit me up if you have concerns/want to skirt around things.

How d'you leave a thing if a thing was always you? [Not the best opening line, he needs to back up a bit.  Compared to last time on the crystals where it was putting on an old pair of boots that don't fit right now, it's not as bad as before.  Less sharp.  Just someone deflated as if they've been trying to climb a thing only to consider their stamina for the venture.]  Like say you grew up with a story taught in the cold, dark, damp but it was all yours in your bones same as that thing so even if it was full of knives those are your knives, and you're not some soft thing. And the story was about some siblings who go out one day by the docks. One get gets caught in a rope and the other one ties themselves to it to haul the other in but they both drown. They get called sentiment and hope.

[Carta bedtime stories aren't like your typical bedtime stories.  Yngvi is aware of that, thanks, the embarrassed almost laugh gives it away.]

So say that was your bedtime story, and you-- you were complicit in big things but you grew up that way so you were a kid, and you ate all your siblings because otherwise they ate you... how do you leave? I mean can you? Or do things grind you up to dust and swallow you down instead?

Comments

[trashlife]

[ The first thing he hears is a snort. Not a snort of laughter, but a snort that's more of surprise that this person has been thinking of deep thoughts like her. ]

I don't even know. Only reason I'm here is 'cause I thought the Inquisition would get this stupid green shit out of my hand, and now I know they can't, I have to stay here or it'll eat my arm.

[ A pause. ]

I've never known how to leave where I'm from. I always go back. It's weird... I always go back. But now I'm gone and-- [ And Minka doesn't know who she's supposed to be yet. ] -- and yeah. Weird.

[ She's probably the opposite of helpful right now, but no one has even accused Minka of doing the right thing before. ]

[provenforce]

Sometimes you just have to leave. Part of you will always want to go back, but... you can't.

[writteninblood]

Sometimes the past is bad because it's there to teach us what not to do.

[That old Dalish nut, never forget, never submit, never let them take you away from you.]

But you don't forget it. If not forgetting is the same as not leaving it behind, then-- maybe you can't.

[meds4sale]

If sentiment and hope had drowned you would not be asking such a question.

What, I wonder, are you holding onto?

permaprivate;

[limier]

Is leaving what you intend to do?

private.

[dashing]

I think... what you do when you are young can be things you do because you do not yet know, or you lack a voice, the means to act counter to what you are instructed. Your choices can be limited by lack of power or knowledge.

( There is so much she wishes she could change from her childhood, her adolescence - her whole life, almost. Decisions she wishes she had better understood. ) That can be the burden of growing, but... when there are things that you are unhappy with, or that wound yourself or others, and you understand what it is doing or has done - then the possibility for change occurs because you've obtained more of an understanding of it.

( She sighs. This isn't an easy topic. ) No other can make the decision but you, but I would wager there are those that would help you, should you wish to move away from that pain, rather than be mired in it.