[It's hard to think of Atem being so angry he's rendered inarticulate. His words always had a weight of authority to them that could only come from a solid base of confidence.
A cool demeanor, an easy air. A little boy excited to see what the world had to offer him. That's Atem, to her. Not someone so wounded by their hurt they seethed about it before, now shying away from the memory of it. But he says it himself. He's shielding her from something ugly, both about what happened to him and maybe about himself.
And it is ugly, enough a hand flies to her mouth on reflex, her eyes going wide.
Someone...cut his heart out? She knows he's a vampire more often than not, that he's by rights undead...but what if he wasn't? She wants to ask, but it's apparent the little niggling details matter far less than the enormous impact of the act itself. Someone punished Atem in the most gruesome way possible, and they can argue about what's right and what's fair but what's fair and right didn't matter then, and she wonders...does it matter now?
She can see how he could feel unsafe after that. Did he cry out for help? Did anyone know he had disappeared? Or did they see the shell of him wandering after, already too damaged to put back together right? The way he describes it, she pictures it like glass, and Atem as many shards. Seeing himself in the shrapnel, a collage of confusion where the only consistency is that he's reflected in all of the shards.
How many people could walk away from something that brutal and shrug it off? No one comes to mind. No one comes to mind at all. No one...
Trish's breath is quick, shallow.]
...You weren't the same after. There's no way you could have been.
Everything you were at the time was shattered, wasn't it? I can't fathom it. I won't...pretend to try.
[It makes sense now, his ominous words on the network. From January to spring, this personal catastrophe consumed her friend, and she had no clue.
That feeling is back now. That feeling that Atem was let down, although she can't picture a time when anyone could have prevented this. All it takes is one misstep, and in an instant...]
You got what you wanted, anyway. I suppose anything that could have been said about it is being spoken too late now.
["I'm sorry."
"Power can be found within, without inciting the same fear and loss of safety in others that you felt yourself in that moment."
me reading this like oh. atem was robbed of his heart. what a neat literary device--
A cool demeanor, an easy air. A little boy excited to see what the world had to offer him. That's Atem, to her. Not someone so wounded by their hurt they seethed about it before, now shying away from the memory of it. But he says it himself. He's shielding her from something ugly, both about what happened to him and maybe about himself.
And it is ugly, enough a hand flies to her mouth on reflex, her eyes going wide.
Someone...cut his heart out? She knows he's a vampire more often than not, that he's by rights undead...but what if he wasn't? She wants to ask, but it's apparent the little niggling details matter far less than the enormous impact of the act itself. Someone punished Atem in the most gruesome way possible, and they can argue about what's right and what's fair but what's fair and right didn't matter then, and she wonders...does it matter now?
She can see how he could feel unsafe after that. Did he cry out for help? Did anyone know he had disappeared? Or did they see the shell of him wandering after, already too damaged to put back together right? The way he describes it, she pictures it like glass, and Atem as many shards. Seeing himself in the shrapnel, a collage of confusion where the only consistency is that he's reflected in all of the shards.
How many people could walk away from something that brutal and shrug it off? No one comes to mind. No one comes to mind at all. No one...
Trish's breath is quick, shallow.]
...You weren't the same after. There's no way you could have been.
Everything you were at the time was shattered, wasn't it? I can't fathom it. I won't...pretend to try.
[It makes sense now, his ominous words on the network. From January to spring, this personal catastrophe consumed her friend, and she had no clue.
That feeling is back now. That feeling that Atem was let down, although she can't picture a time when anyone could have prevented this. All it takes is one misstep, and in an instant...]
You got what you wanted, anyway. I suppose anything that could have been said about it is being spoken too late now.
["I'm sorry."
"Power can be found within, without inciting the same fear and loss of safety in others that you felt yourself in that moment."
"Your friends will be there for you."
None of that would've been true, anyway.]