[ there's an emphatic nod. ] I agree. I wrote down as much as I could during the proceedings - I intend to make a chronicle of what happened, and write an obituary for Charlie. It feels like the least I can do.
[ because of course he did. his notebook, tucked into his holster beside his chronicle, has already begun to fill with stories of the people here, let alone with the notes from the trial itself. typical taair the historian, but zuriel nails it - there is no pretending this never happened. the idea of that makes him feel a little ill, which is even less surprising.
at the rest, though... though the sadness settles in his bones like a bird nesting in its ribcage, his memory of charlie is warm and fond, even still. ]
I think you've said it well, too. That is what we must do, yes? Carry on the memory of those who came before. [ taair smiles at that, a little more lightly, and taps himself on the cheek once. ] I'm something of an expert.
[ oh that should have said less forgiving of people being mean, i got lost.
but of course he did. this does not surprise them at all. ]
That's... actually sweet, Taair. Even if I'm sure half of the people here have no idea what an obituary is, doing something to preserve her memory should be an action nobody can misread. I'm a little surprised you were even able to find enough sense in what happened to write it down.
[ but he's good at his craft, it seems, so maybe they should not be that surprised. instead, they let that sentence hang as they debate how to approach the subject. ]
Even if it isn't easy, it's the right thing to do. Putting them aside just to make it hurt less isn't an option. [ ... ] I'm not sure I like the idea of you being an expert in that particular field though.
[ you are so valid. also cute... he looks warm at the compliment, though as ever he ducks his head, humble. ]
Memory is something of an important subject for me - both as a scholar of history, and in my own personal life. The duty of a historian is to record human experience, to treasure it all, good and bad, so when time sands the edges off of our sharpness, the events that happened remain. Honestly - I think we discussed before, that I enjoy the mystery of piecing together parts to find a whole. I'm sure if the circumstances were less grim, I would've found this experience to be joyful, but the grimness of it all greatly outweighs any novelty, and that is a gross understatement.
[ what we're getting it is that taair would love mafia (the game) but people's actual lives! not so much. but he does make a very good notetaker, because of it.
the last question has him tilt his head. ] In which field?
I think it's very easy for history to become lost and for people to misinterpret it without proper records. And even then, some people may have records that are more opinion than fact. But it's why people write them, isn't it? To let people find and decide the truth.
But we have, yes. There's an appeal in piecing together everything to create a whole. Even with the grimness... it's a novelty. Not all experiences are good experiences, but they shape us, don't you think?
[ please help him, he does not deserve the murder. but zuriel shakes their head. ]
But I mean the field of carrying memories. It's a good thing to do, but at the same time it feels like it could be sad if the memories are of people you've lost. Or people you've never met and wished you could. Maybe saying I don't know if I like it isn't quite right.
[ but they've kind of already assigned him as a lonely person and think that living with the memories of other people and not many good, fulfilling ones of his own is a little sad. ]
And to be shaped by experience at all is a blessing, indeed. So, yes, precisely - on both counts.
[ zuriel always gets it - it makes taair happy. he nods along, leaning back now on his hands to look upwards, up to the skies overhead. every experience to him has its joys. small as they might be, they are so much more than his life was before. every moment this group spends, happy and horrible, leaves its mark.
as for the last bit... taair listens, taking in their words with a long moment of consideration. it's people you've never met and wished you could that sinks into his chest, a familiar chill of melancholy that curls into his bones. because it's true, achingly true: taair can read every history in the world, but it doesn't make up for the fact that he grew up utterly, completely alone. ]
...It is a bit sad. [ he says, finally, gaze turned upwards. ] To read of the tragedies of the world can be a heavy, heavy weight. There is so much record of people suffering - it is no wonder, that sometimes it feels easier for some to lean into pretty lies. A young child reading stories of the heroics of the Radiant Guard would never know the atrocities that those very same members of the guard committed against the common people of Iria in the sake of greed.
I don't mind. I'm quite used to it. [ keeping memories. uncovering truth. ] And I think... much as you said with experiences - keeping these things has taught me to appreciate the tender memories even more. In every dark moment, I can find a crack of light.
But... they are just memories, in the end. Stories of things that have already happened, to other people. And they do not fill the gap for experience as well as I would like.
It's always easier to lie and protect children. [ it's an idle thought, one they comment on briefly before moving onward. ] So long as you don't shield them from the truth later when they seek it for themselves.
I think as long as you have ways to let that light in, it isn't as bad. Being able to know what is and isn't real, and knowing what your own morals are in the face of that heaviness... that's the difference.
[ but. ] You have these next several weeks to fill the gap. Bad experiences like this, yes, but plenty of time for good ones. I hope all of you won't decide to start shying away now.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ because of course he did. his notebook, tucked into his holster beside his chronicle, has already begun to fill with stories of the people here, let alone with the notes from the trial itself. typical taair the historian, but zuriel nails it - there is no pretending this never happened. the idea of that makes him feel a little ill, which is even less surprising.
at the rest, though... though the sadness settles in his bones like a bird nesting in its ribcage, his memory of charlie is warm and fond, even still. ]
I think you've said it well, too. That is what we must do, yes? Carry on the memory of those who came before. [ taair smiles at that, a little more lightly, and taps himself on the cheek once. ] I'm something of an expert.
no subject
but of course he did. this does not surprise them at all. ]
That's... actually sweet, Taair. Even if I'm sure half of the people here have no idea what an obituary is, doing something to preserve her memory should be an action nobody can misread. I'm a little surprised you were even able to find enough sense in what happened to write it down.
[ but he's good at his craft, it seems, so maybe they should not be that surprised. instead, they let that sentence hang as they debate how to approach the subject. ]
Even if it isn't easy, it's the right thing to do. Putting them aside just to make it hurt less isn't an option. [ ... ] I'm not sure I like the idea of you being an expert in that particular field though.
no subject
Memory is something of an important subject for me - both as a scholar of history, and in my own personal life. The duty of a historian is to record human experience, to treasure it all, good and bad, so when time sands the edges off of our sharpness, the events that happened remain. Honestly - I think we discussed before, that I enjoy the mystery of piecing together parts to find a whole. I'm sure if the circumstances were less grim, I would've found this experience to be joyful, but the grimness of it all greatly outweighs any novelty, and that is a gross understatement.
[ what we're getting it is that taair would love mafia (the game) but people's actual lives! not so much. but he does make a very good notetaker, because of it.
the last question has him tilt his head. ] In which field?
no subject
But we have, yes. There's an appeal in piecing together everything to create a whole. Even with the grimness... it's a novelty. Not all experiences are good experiences, but they shape us, don't you think?
[ please help him, he does not deserve the murder. but zuriel shakes their head. ]
But I mean the field of carrying memories. It's a good thing to do, but at the same time it feels like it could be sad if the memories are of people you've lost. Or people you've never met and wished you could. Maybe saying I don't know if I like it isn't quite right.
[ but they've kind of already assigned him as a lonely person and think that living with the memories of other people and not many good, fulfilling ones of his own is a little sad. ]
no subject
[ zuriel always gets it - it makes taair happy. he nods along, leaning back now on his hands to look upwards, up to the skies overhead. every experience to him has its joys. small as they might be, they are so much more than his life was before. every moment this group spends, happy and horrible, leaves its mark.
as for the last bit... taair listens, taking in their words with a long moment of consideration. it's people you've never met and wished you could that sinks into his chest, a familiar chill of melancholy that curls into his bones. because it's true, achingly true: taair can read every history in the world, but it doesn't make up for the fact that he grew up utterly, completely alone. ]
...It is a bit sad. [ he says, finally, gaze turned upwards. ] To read of the tragedies of the world can be a heavy, heavy weight. There is so much record of people suffering - it is no wonder, that sometimes it feels easier for some to lean into pretty lies. A young child reading stories of the heroics of the Radiant Guard would never know the atrocities that those very same members of the guard committed against the common people of Iria in the sake of greed.
I don't mind. I'm quite used to it. [ keeping memories. uncovering truth. ] And I think... much as you said with experiences - keeping these things has taught me to appreciate the tender memories even more. In every dark moment, I can find a crack of light.
But... they are just memories, in the end. Stories of things that have already happened, to other people. And they do not fill the gap for experience as well as I would like.
no subject
I think as long as you have ways to let that light in, it isn't as bad. Being able to know what is and isn't real, and knowing what your own morals are in the face of that heaviness... that's the difference.
[ but. ] You have these next several weeks to fill the gap. Bad experiences like this, yes, but plenty of time for good ones. I hope all of you won't decide to start shying away now.