[ richie he warned you... he feels a little bit bad about the burger, but he doesn't protest. though there's just a little bit of guilt in his eyes. ]
They did what they could for me, but they couldn't really stand to look at me either. It's alright, I think they were trying to do their best... even if their best at the time was pity.
[ and yves keeps telling the story with a hint of sadness, but there's not a hint of contempt. not even a whisper of actual upset. ]
I was lucky when this kind merchant came by one day and gave me this mask... and people reacted to me better after that, so that was good.
WHO GAVE YOU THE SPEED OF THE DEVIL, BREAKS YOUR FINGERS
The only time the best thing to do is kill somebody is when they're in too much pain to carry on, or they're trying to kill you. I don't care what they believed. [Sorry. Strong feelings on this one. He wipes his mouth. Thinking.]
I had... [It's gonna sound trite. Very much so. But it's the best he's got.] A couple of friends of mine, growing up. They had a rough one too, a few with their folks. All of us with other kids. My buddy Bill, he got hit by a car as a toddler — like a big, motorized carriage. Several tons of steel. He's damn lucky to be alive, but it left him with a wicked stutter. He was a sharp kid, but he spoke slow, if he could spit out the words at all. School was hell on him for it, and people treated him like a drag, when all he wanted was to be treated like a kid.
And Mike...Well. Mike Hanlon was the son of the only black family in Derry. Not a small town, but most certainly a white one. Another kid poisoned his dog, just because he happened to look different. And Ben Hanscom, his big crime was being fat, and being smart. That same kid made to carve his name on his belly when he refused to let him cheat off his test. Got the full "H" in before old Ben could up and split.
Beverly... [But then, he doesn't want to talk much about that. Things that happen to young girls — even if it's only a might-have-happened, even if the threat only stayed a threat — they get too easily sensationalized. It makes him sick, thinking of the way her daddy was. Makes him sick to bring it up now, as if he's laying her bare for some selfish purpose. Best leave that one undeclared.
Richie holds in the silence. Staring somewhere far away.]
Point is, [He carries on at last, taking a weary breath.] a man can drum up any old reason to hate somebody. Anything at all. Never has to make sense, and rarely is it deserved. Think on that, all right?
It's one thing to forgive a person for the way they treat you. That's fine. But you don't have to accept it was the only way they could. It never is.
Edited (i mispelled my SON'S NAME I'M SORRY BEN ILU!!!!) 2025-02-12 18:28 (UTC)
[ yves doesn't even disagree with richie really - but there is something in his brain that fails to compute the ability to properly blame his own family.
even so, that emotional process isn't broken on behalf of other people. he listens to richie's stories of his friends, and he frowns - winces in some places - because he doesn't like it. he doesn't like to hear the ways in which people suffer, and the cruelty that others are capable of. ]
... mm. I understand. Then for me—on my behalf—I forgive them.
[ easily. too easily, for other people. but for yves, the sincerity is the only emotion to be found ]
... but I'm sorry to hear about your friends, Monsieur Richie. [ the way he normally doesn't keep up the etiquette, but richie is now up there with lucas on People Trying to Teach Yves Things ] They didn't deserve any of that.
I'm glad they had you for a friend, at least. I know that sometimes having a good friend at your side can be enough to make the days worth seeing.
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They did what they could for me, but they couldn't really stand to look at me either. It's alright, I think they were trying to do their best... even if their best at the time was pity.
[ and yves keeps telling the story with a hint of sadness, but there's not a hint of contempt. not even a whisper of actual upset. ]
I was lucky when this kind merchant came by one day and gave me this mask... and people reacted to me better after that, so that was good.
WHO GAVE YOU THE SPEED OF THE DEVIL, BREAKS YOUR FINGERS
I had... [It's gonna sound trite. Very much so. But it's the best he's got.] A couple of friends of mine, growing up. They had a rough one too, a few with their folks. All of us with other kids. My buddy Bill, he got hit by a car as a toddler — like a big, motorized carriage. Several tons of steel. He's damn lucky to be alive, but it left him with a wicked stutter. He was a sharp kid, but he spoke slow, if he could spit out the words at all. School was hell on him for it, and people treated him like a drag, when all he wanted was to be treated like a kid.
And Mike...Well. Mike Hanlon was the son of the only black family in Derry. Not a small town, but most certainly a white one. Another kid poisoned his dog, just because he happened to look different. And Ben Hanscom, his big crime was being fat, and being smart. That same kid made to carve his name on his belly when he refused to let him cheat off his test. Got the full "H" in before old Ben could up and split.
Beverly... [But then, he doesn't want to talk much about that. Things that happen to young girls — even if it's only a might-have-happened, even if the threat only stayed a threat — they get too easily sensationalized. It makes him sick, thinking of the way her daddy was. Makes him sick to bring it up now, as if he's laying her bare for some selfish purpose. Best leave that one undeclared.
Richie holds in the silence. Staring somewhere far away.]
Point is, [He carries on at last, taking a weary breath.] a man can drum up any old reason to hate somebody. Anything at all. Never has to make sense, and rarely is it deserved. Think on that, all right?
It's one thing to forgive a person for the way they treat you. That's fine. But you don't have to accept it was the only way they could. It never is.
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even so, that emotional process isn't broken on behalf of other people. he listens to richie's stories of his friends, and he frowns - winces in some places - because he doesn't like it. he doesn't like to hear the ways in which people suffer, and the cruelty that others are capable of. ]
... mm. I understand. Then for me—on my behalf—I forgive them.
[ easily. too easily, for other people. but for yves, the sincerity is the only emotion to be found ]
... but I'm sorry to hear about your friends, Monsieur Richie. [ the way he normally doesn't keep up the etiquette, but richie is now up there with lucas on People Trying to Teach Yves Things ] They didn't deserve any of that.
I'm glad they had you for a friend, at least. I know that sometimes having a good friend at your side can be enough to make the days worth seeing.