#me when there’s a crisis

Andulka
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@min-hwantae
#me when there’s a crisis
[ coming to america ]
He ran, waiting for the rest of the pack to catch up to him. That was the last thing he wanted, but the inevitable was what it was. He had no hope. He’d watched them tear Dahee-nim to shreds. He’d heard her last cries. They were going to catch up to him, eventually, he knew it. But for now, he’d run as fast as his four legs could take him, hopping over benches and avoiding the humans by skulking around alleys and sleeping in abandoned warehouses.
It took Tae around 3 months to raise the money to fund his crazy idea. He knew the pack was coming after him. They had once before, now twice. Third time’s the charm, right? He didn’t want there to be a third time. So he had to leave. The only option he could come up with was fleeing the country. Claim refugee status, maybe. But Korea isn’t a war-torn state, so refugee status was unlikely. Tae would be lucky if he could get a work visa, but his initial reason was “visiting relatives.” He had no one.
The plane ride was terrible. He had to maintain form while anxious as shit, thousands of miles in the air when he was not built for that. Wolves are land dwellers, cave dwellers in most instances. Being in the air was wrong, in the same way it was wrong to say the sky wasn’t blue. But he held, doing his best to remain calm. The meditation exercises he’d learned from Dahee-nim escaped him.
The lay over in London was nice, Tae thought. He’d never been out of Seoul before, and even though London was a still a big city, it was a different city. He couldn’t read anything, or understand anyone, but everything looked magical. He picked up an English for Dummies book in some gift shop, flipping through it as if he could understand the western alphabet. He’d take lessons in New York, his official destination. Tae wasn’t sure what to do during his wait, but he fiddled with his phone and his drawing tablet, sketching the sky from the plane window. When a woman commented on it, he just blinked at her until she gave him a thumbs up. For the first time in a while, Tae felt warm.
The plane ride from London to New York wasn’t near as bad as the first. He had more leg room, being on the emergency exit aisle. He’d tried to tell the flight attendant, who was speaking in English, that he couldn’t help anyone because he couldn’t understand what she was telling him, but he figured there wouldn’t be the need anyway. He could always use the pictogram and what little common sense he has to help. He slept for a little bit, which was nice and much needed, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling of being followed. He’d resigned himself to not staying in New York long, based on whether or not the creeping feeling along his spine ever went away. He wasn’t sure it would.
New York was certainly a “concrete jungle.” That was one of the first phrases someone taught him once he landed, welcoming him to the city. Concrete jungle. Everything was concrete, and it was all confusing. He found what they called “K-Town,” having googled it before leaving Korea. An area with an abundance of Korean people was just what he needed; maybe he could find someone he could talk to. Find a language school that offered Korean to English services. It didn’t take him long.
His adventures in K-Town were varied and wonderful. His journey learning English was a hard one, but he had Mrs. Kim from the restaurant to help, and Mr. Park from the grocery store was practically a Korean to English dictionary. Tae had the forethought not to tell Mr. Park when he was wrong. He’d seen him go off on someone else for just that, and Tae didn’t want to make enemies.
Eventually, his English was proficient enough that he could hold conversations with strangers and customers alike. He could read the subway map with only difficulty keeping the lines right. He learned to avoid Times Square like the plague, and that cities are less overwhelming when you know what’s going on around you. Unfortunately, this also meant it was time for him to leave. He didn’t want to.
Saying goodbye to those who had supported him when he first showed up on their doorstep was hard. He was nothing but a skinny, half-starved werewolf kid who was scared of his own shadow. Barely even an adult, if he even was. He had no papers when he came into the country; all his documents were forged but passed TSA so he wasn’t going to own up to that. They took him in with no questions asked, offering their houses and their food to him, but he couldn’t take it. Not for long. If the pack came after him, and they found out he was close to another… he couldn’t have a repeat of what happened to Dahee-nim. It was best to cut ties when they were still relatively fresh.
He went next to Boston, which felt a lot like New York but entirely different at the same time. There were less opportunities for him there, so he didn’t stay for long. Seafood had never appealed to him, even in Korea. He missed kimchi, made the real way, with proper rice and other side dishes. Korean American food didn’t compare.
After Boston, Tae kept making his way down the coast, to every major city he could find on the map. He’d stay for a few weeks, sometimes months, especially in the winters. He held a lot of odd jobs, from restaurant work (what he knew he could always do; especially in a tourist town) to working with a tattoo artist, who taught him a few things. Art had always been a forbidden pleasure when Dahee-nim called the shots, saying it was a distraction. It had been long enough, and her influence shouldn’t continue to rule his life. He had to learn how to be his own person.
From the time he was in Orlando, he was tattooing on a regular basis. He’d managed to get a good rep from some of his teachers, and he started following other artists around the country. It was better than picking cities at random. He would connect with them somehow, usually by the cellphone Tae was reluctant to have, and they would plan something when Tae was in town. Sometimes he could get studio space for free, or he’d take some lessons from the greats. It was in the tattoo world that he rediscovered the supernatural world to which he really belongs. Apparently, the supernatural like tattoos even more than the humans do.
Traveling eventually took its toll on Tae, and he began to wilt. His art lacked color and passion, and his will to live slowly left him. The longer Dahee-nim had been dead, the harder it was for Tae to appreciate what was around him. He felt he was cheating her, and her rules. Surely, she would find him, somehow from the beyond, and would punish him for breaking every rule in the book. His anxiety started affecting his daily life, and he never felt safe. There was no safety.
This is when an intervention was staged. He was in Denver, settling in for a winter’s stay when one of the werewolves that he’d met at the studio pulled him aside. Tae thought he was in trouble, and braced for the worst. Not many of the wolves he had met were overly violent, but packless wolves were more so than those who belonged somewhere. Tae tried to be the exception, but instead had regularly taken his frustrations out on himself. No one needed to know that.
Luckily for Tae, he wasn’t in trouble. Instead, Malcom told him of a place, a pack. On a ranch, in the mountains. Somewhere that would offer him protection and would maybe give him peace of mind at the very least. Malcolm knew that Tae had never belonged to a pack, and told him it’d be good for him. Apparently, he knew the alpha of this pack well, and knew that she would be good to Tae.
So off he went, packing up his few belongings. His tattoo gun and some non-disposable supplies, his few changes of clothes, and his drawing tablet and his phone.
caideniphillips·:
Caiden just grunted. He didn’t mind one or two people staying there, but he preferred to not have the entire ranch out there. He needed to get Ella to build some cabins or something, for the people who weren’t all that fond of living with a thousand other people. Or he could just start building them himself.
“Yeah.” He said, giving a nod before remembering that most didn’t appreciate one word answers. Especially people coming down from panic attacks, and he reluctantly continued. “Never much liked crowds, so the barn is better.” Not to mention the fact that he didn’t sleep much, and it got annoying to have to listen to people moving around, or worse. It always made his paranoia go insane, having to sleep with one eye open.
Tae nodded, watching his steps as they walked along. The farther they got, the more sure of himself he was. His legs had stopped feeling like jello, and he didn't feel in fear of falling over randomly as they went.
His brain was starting to kick start, slowly booting back up after the short circuit that was a panic attack. Caiden sleeping in the barn made sense, because now that Tae thought about it, he didn't remember seeing Caiden in the house at all, much less have a room in there. "I bet its quiet," he said, looking forward to not having to go back to the chaos of the house. "It gets too much sometimes inside. Too loud, too many people."
brookeoconnor·:
Brooke gave Tae a warm smile. She didn’t mention that he’d already told her that. Figured he must love what he does, and that was something Brooke could respect. Plus he did say he just got in so he could be tired and hungry, and either one of those things can mess with a person’s head on the best of days.
Brooke’s smile grew when he asked her how many tattoos she had. “Fifty-five,” she proudly stated. She’d technically been under the needle more than that, but it was either to add to or change a preexisting tattoo which she didn’t consider to be another one. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind the next time I’m looking to get stabbed repeatedly by a tiny needle,” she said in good humor. “Though it may be a while, so don’t hold you breath.” All of Brooke’s tattoos had memories attached to them and with the way things were now in her life she didn’t want to chance associating a negative memory with something she’d have to look at forever.
Tae didn't mind the woman as he continued making his meal, splashing some soy sauce into his eggs before they hit the pan. "Fifty-five?" he asked, whistling low. "That's impressive. I don't think I have that many." Tae looked down at his arms briefly, almost completely covered in ink all the way to his shoulders. He'd given up on counting a long time ago. They were all just part of the greater artwork that was his body. He laughed at her description of the tattooing process. "No worries, but I have to offer. Gotta make a living somehow," he shrugged. He offered his services to almost anyone who gave the slightly inclination of wanting tats, and sometimes even when they didn't. Small towns don't get the same traffic as big cities. "Do you have a favorite?" he asked, knowing sometimes people did.
dom-wade·:
“That sounds like a recipe for certain disaster, if all of us were running around and completely unable to speak to one another. But, who knows? Maybe it would be fun.” Dom laughed quickly, shaking his head at the thought of it. Maybe it would be easier too, he thought, if they didn’t have all sorts of silly words tangling them up. “You gotta make fun of what scares you, right? That’s a total coping mechanism.” Not that he was very scared of back alleys, or necessarily murder, but it was a lot easier to joke about things that didn’t matter. “Replacing clothes is such a pain. I still haven’t found a pair of jeans to replace my favorite black ones that ripped almost a year ago. You just can’t beat a pair of jeans that’s worn just right.” Dom drifted off, sighing almost wistfully.
"As someone who has moved countries without knowing the language first, I can confirm that it is not fun at all," Tae shook his head, smiling. "It's confusing and frustrating." The days of miming things and pointing exaggeratedly were behind him, but never forgotten. He'd moved out of sheer desperation, but if he had to do it again, he would've at least learned a few basic phrases before hopping on the plane. "That's definitely a coping mechanism, but I'm not sure if it's a good one," he pointed out. Then again, on good days he made fun of his anxiety like it didn't actually cripple him sometimes. "I haven't been in enough back alleys to fear them that way." His experience with back alleys had to do with werewolf packs, but the benefit of being one himself now means he can hear and see if someone is threatening. "Oh, that's the worst. Jeans are so hard to replace; you never find a pair just like it. You're lucky to come close."
graham-whitley-the-fifth·:
“I’m not sitting in the path.” Graham glanced off to the path that threaded into the woods. There was nothing malicious in his tone, just something akin to curiosity. He had picked his place with care, after all, picking a spot that seemed like it would be out of the general flow of traffic. He looked up, squinting in the sunlight that seemed to burn a little more intensely than he remember from before. “Do people often ignore the marked paths around here?” He asked, a little expectant with the question. He was trying to understand this place and the way it teemed with so many different forms of life, each with their own customs. Like an airport, only more…permanent.
Tae tilted his head as he thought about it. He typically ignored the paths, since he tried to keep out of anyone's way. "Depends on where someone's going, I guess," he answered. "Or if they're even paying attention to where they're going in the first place," he laughed. "Mind if I sit?" Tae sat down anyway, not liking the feeling of looming over someone. The other reeked of vampire, but he didn't mind so much when they were out in the fresh air with plenty of other smells around to distract his nose. "It is nice out here, isn't it?" he asked, tilting his head back so the sun-rays could reach his face.
nathan-soldat·:
“Sure.” Nathan had his doubts that would go well. He’d had to learn how to dance around the truth rather than lying at all. He had to cut corners if he wanted even a normal lifespan, god knew if he didn’t cut things where he could, he’d have been dead fifty years earlier from aging into it. “I’m sure you didn’t.” He replied dryly. Everyone on this damn ranch was so polite and apologetic, it was almost stifling. Like walking around with puppies cowering away from him wherever he stepped. Vaguely amusing to begin with, but it was beginning to get old. Nathan saw the blood as surely as he heard the hiss, eyebrow arching. He wasn’t worried. He’d have to care, to be worried. His only problem was that with his luck, he’d probably end up getting blamed for it. “Well you’re just a fucking disaster.”
Tae always did his best to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Most people at the ranch had some sort of troubled past that affected their behavior and he didn't feel right holding that against them. If he did, how would he expect anyone to even try understanding him and his past? The part of it he was willing to tell. He shook his head, trying not to let the--angel?--get under his skin. "Yeah, most of the time, I am," he agreed, not even pretending anymore. He really was a disaster. Rinsing his hand, he checked behind him to make sure he didn't leave blood anywhere. "Uh, do you mind handing me a paper towel or something?" he asked when he realized he was still bleeding. "I'll get out of your way, don't worry."
miraleroux·:
She smiled over at Tae, shaking her head lightly. “It’s fine. I just didn’t expect for anyone else to be out here,” Mira replied. “Do you have a favorite?” She asked, lifting the camera once more to snap several more pictures.
He looked back up to the sky, thinking. He couldn't recognize any of them, but he'd read about plenty. "I don't know yet. I'm still reading about them. I know there's a wolf one, somewhere. I guess that should be my favorite by proxy," he laughed. "What's your favorite?"
keltontavarez·:
Kel breathed all his air out in a rush. The Halder past wasn’t a secret; it couldn’t be. Too many in the pack already knew, and they all talked about it the way groups of people in one area did. Maybe they quieted when him or Ella entered a room, but the words were still nearly tangible in the air. He almost wished they were more open about it, as that would be easier than trying to pretend he didn’t know what they were talking about. “Percival was the last alpha and Xavier’s twin. He was greedy and violent and elegant and he wanted perfection from everyone. Ella was far from perfect, so he tried to beat the faults out of her. When he tried to marry her off, she finally snapped and returned it. She killed him and took the pack.” He could admit that it felt a little wrong to state the facts so coldly, but he wasn’t sure how else to state them. He hadn’t been around for it, he had no personal information to add. He only knew the story, had spent time holding Ella in all her grief for what she had done. “I don’t think it’s that simple.” Kel said, though he didn’t elaborate. Levels of happiness, and what was enough, it couldn’t be boiled down to that, but there was no trying to explain it. He only knew that his sister was still hurting and he had to find a way to help. “Well it’s worth looking into.” Kel offered, not pushing. He was no psychologist and he didn’t want to give the impression that he had anything to do with those kinds of doctors. “There are different levels. A therapist talks to you and helps you work out your problems. A psychiatrist can prescribe you medication for different issues, but some people claim that all a psychiatrist does is try to drug you up. It really depends on how intense your issues are, but a therapist is generally good enough.”
"Damn. Okay," Tae said, sitting back. He understood a little bit now, why the pack is the way it is. Why Ella is the way she is. He could never put himself in her place. Tae didn't have the stomach for it. He had a hard time when he had to fight someone in tournaments, and those were consensual with everyone wanting to fight. "Well. That's a new piece to the puzzle. I can't believe she had to do that! To her own father! But he had it coming, it sounds like. And I think Ella's a great alpha, so there's that, too." He knew that Ella didn't think much of herself as an alpha, but Tae had nothing to relate it to, so she was the best, in his opinion. She takes care of everyone, usually without regard to herself he'd noticed, and gave them all a safe place to stay without judging anyone. He believed it to be hard to judge yourself objectively, anyway. Tae had issues with managing to, in addition to, well, everything else. He didn't feel the need to let Kel into how bad it got, but he appreciated the information and stashed it away for later. Not now. "Definitely worth looking into," he nodded. "I don't like the idea of drugged up, though. I might do some research."
miraleroux·:
It was a clear night out, the soft sounds of cicadas hummed a sweet melody and the gentle breeze casting a scent of pine. Mira raised the camera, looking through the lens up at the starry canvas. Focusing on the sky above her before snapping a picture. She paused, turning to look over her shoulder. “Hasn’t anyone told you to never sneak up on someone?” Mira asked with her brows knitted together.
Ever since that night in the woods, Tae had gone outside to look at the stars at least once before going to bed. Having been raised in cities and never been this far away from light pollution to really see the stars and constellations. He'd been doing some research on some of them, but he hadn't found any on his own yet. So absorbed was he in his thinking, he didn't realize someone was already out here. "Oh, hey, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," he said, laughing a bit.
ellierosebutler:
She looked down at the sandwich in surprise, “oh, thank you.” she said timidly. Normally, she would refuse food from a stranger, but she had been running for days and was starving. She took a bite and let the flavors fill her mouth. “Seriously, thank you” she laughed. Maybe she would be okay after all.
"You're welcome!" Tae said brightly, beaming at the fact she actually ate the sandwich. He knew how it felt to be new, and unsure, and wasn't entirely certain he'd be so willing to take food from a complete stranger. Then again, he'd done the exact same thing several times in the past, when he'd been too hungry to question it. "There's more inside. Ella or Jack should be around, either one of them would be able to help you. Just ask for them. I hope to see you around!" He waved at her as he continued on, back to finding a good spot to sketch in. New pack members were exciting, and he hoped she'd be happy here.
jackainsleyleighton·:
Jack was sliding back and forth on his wheeled chair around the small office space he’d created in his room. He was looking for a file, and for the life of him couldn’t recall where he’d left it. Normally he wasn’t so disorganized. However, he’d been leaving his work unfinished quite a bit for the past few days and couldn’t always recall where he’d left things when he came back to it.
He was so focused on his task that he hadn’t notice anyone coming upon his room. Not that he would have with his room having been sound proofed. Though he would have had a better chance with the door having been cracked. Although his ears did perk up at the sound of a knock. Jack didn’t turn around and look at the person right away, but he knew who it was as the familiarity of Tae’s voice and scent assaulted his sense.
His head snapped up and he glanced over his shoulder at the wolf. “Hey, Tae. Come on in,” he greeted him as he set the file he finally found down, “Yes. Well give you something would be more accurate.” He gave him a warm smile in an effort to be reassuring. With his full attention on Tae, Jack noticed he seemed nervous. “You can sit if you want.” Jack indicated his bed which for once was neatly made.
“How’ve you been?” Jack asked as he stood up from his seat. He made his way over toward his closet. He safely stored the the book in a bag there, so it wouldn’t get damaged or misplaced in all his work.
"Oh, okay," Tae said, inching his way into Jack's room. He still didn't know what this was about, and couldn't stop the anxiety racing through his veins. On top of that, he always felt weird going into someone else's bedroom. A person's most personal space, invading that felt wrong on some sort of intrinsic level that Tae couldn't shake, even when invited in. He twisted his hands together, and slowly sank onto the bed when prompted.
He looked around, the room having an odd energy to it. Nothing was out of place, that he could tell anyway. He'd never been in here before, so he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be like, but everything seemed to be in its place. But it was so much... calmer in here, than in the rest of the house. It was bright, and he could almost hear the leaves in the wind coming through the window. He hadn't noticed that anywhere else.
"Been okay," he said, ignoring the panic attacks that had come and gone since he last talked to Jack. So far, only Caiden had caught him in the act, and the less that witness that or know to look for it the better, he thought. "Just doing what I can around here, working at the shop, doing sketches, you know." He eyed the drawing table in the corner there, and wondered how long Jack had had it. "How about you?" he asked, watching as Jack wandered over to the closet. He wasn't sure he wanted to know what Jack was going to do in there that he needed Tae for.
dom-wade·:
“It’s terrible honestly. Read and read. Lead and lead. Who decided any of this? Oh, or moose and moose. We need to go back and edit.” Dom was sure all languages had their quirks but still - English was ridiculous. At least he didn’t have to write anything down very often. If he was actively performing magic he would probably have to create his own spells, so it was a relief to rarely have to worry about it. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I don’t like back alleys either. There’s usually nothing but trash and murder back there.” Dom listened carefully to Tae, wondering how much of it he could apply to the nasty little voice in the back of his head. Not much, he thought. Usually his ‘evil’ side could be quieted after a few moments of thought. It wasn’t so much that he fought with it, more that he always knew there were other options. There were more violent and powerful options. Dom shook the thoughts away though. “It’s good that you’ve got control then. It would be awkward to transform all the time and need to keep replacing clothes.”
"Just scrap it all and start over, who cares about editing?" Tae laughed. Some things he knew just because he memorized it, but it didn't make any kind of sense. Why would deer and dear mean two different things? Then deer and deer can mean a different number of the same animal, depending on context? There was no use for all of that! "Trash and murder, oh my god," Tae said, covering his mouth. The way Dom had said it had been funny, but it really wasn't, if you thought about it. There really was a lot of trash and at least the potential to be murdered in most back alleys. "Oh I did plenty of that when I was a kid. Luckily, I was growing, so it didn't matter as much as it would now. Now it'd be a pain to replace my entire warddrobe." Even now, even on bad days, Tae can generally tell when the change was coming soon enough to get his clothes off. He hadn't busted a pair of shorts in a while, and that was good. Clothes got expensive after a while.
graham-whitley-the-fifth·:
Graham had his eyes shut as he sat cross-legged in the front lawn. His ears were tuned to hear the buzz of different insects around him, more aware of them than he had ever been before. He had always listened. He had to, the sound of tiny wings could mean certain death. Now though, he didn’t have that counter part inside of him trying to drown out the sound, not be prepared for what could be his oncoming death. Somewhere on his right foot, he could feel something crawling. Instinct told him to grab at his epi pen, but he ignored it with a heavy breath. Then someone cleared their throat and Graham’s eyes flew open. “I can explain why I am here, but I can’t promise it will make any sense.”
The mountains had interesting weather, Tae decided, as he headed outside to enjoy some of the sun that had broken through the clouds. The weather could go from warm one day to chilly the next, back to sweltering within the afternoon. He was still getting used to it, especially since summer here didn't bring the rains. The sun could be felt on his skin uninterrupted, and he found he enjoyed it in both human and wolf forms. A run was on his mind as he made his way down the lawn, almost tripping over someone in the process. "I don't think it has to make sense, if there's a good reason," Tae said, righting himself over the other before he actually fell. "But you might want to be prepared to get run over. I almost just did right now, sorry."
nathan-soldat·:
“Learn to lie better.” Nathan said simply. Too much time in his line of work taught him to spot a lie from a mile away, and this kid clearly hadn’t had much experience in learning how to properly lie. It was almost sad. “If?” He cocked an eyebrow, feeling he had been pretty clear. He came to the kitchen after everyone left for a very distinct reason, but this was a werewolf pack. Something about wolves and their pack mentality, they couldn’t understand someone who preferred to be alone. They were all in each other’s business, always close and touching and it was just too much. He didn’t know how long he was going to last in such an overbearing environment. He turned back to his own cooking. “Try not to cut yourself. I’d rather not have to clean up blood and your mess.”
"Right. Lie better. I'll try?" Tae had never been good at lying. His face was too open, he'd been told. His emotions, no matter how well he tried to control them, were always displayed on his face for everyone to see. There were only specific circumstances he could keep to himself, like when he got upset enough to cry. "Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to bother anyone." He never did, always trying to scuttle out of the way when he knew he wasn't wanted. There were few who kept him around without complaint anyway, and he didn't want to make any accidental enemies. He focused on cleaning up the broken dish, throwing away the pieces he'd had in his hands. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be fine," he said, knowing he'd probably end up cutting himself regardless of how careful he was. Tae was a clumsy idiot at the best of times. Just like that, he felt his palm slice open as he dropped the last big piece in the trash. He hissed, trying to keep quiet. It would heal anyway. He went to rinse his hand before grabbing the broom, glad he was wearing shoes to protect his feet at the very least.
keltontavarez·:
“They had a complicated relationship.” That was putting it nicely. Kel knew a big, very confused part of Ella, still loved Percival in some twisted way. He had still raised her, still been there for her as a child. Once upon a time she had even looked up to him. Towards the end, that had made things confusing and difficult. Kel tilted his head a touch. “Do you not know what happened with her dad?” He thought everyone knew about how the past alpha had ended, but the way Tae said it made it seem like he had no clue about the past. Kel had always thought it was one of those things that everyone whispered about when Ella was around; she wasn’t exactly shy about it herself. “She may be okay, but she could be a lot happier. I’m working on it.” He knew he couldn’t fix everything. He couldn’t fix a person. But he could sure as hell try and as long as he was around, he was going to keep trying to help Ella. “Yeah, those are a thing. You shouldn’t be too old to know about those.” As far as he could tell, Tae wasn’t all that old. Werewolves were tricky, but he acted like he was still a pup. “You can see a therapist about that, you know. Get some meds, get evened out and work yourself off of them again. Anxiety does not have to control your life.” Kel shook his head. He knew the world of mental health had come leaps and bounds from the time he was a kid, but the fact that there was still so much lack of knowledge out there about it still frustrated him. Maybe things could have been different, if it had been less of a taboo subject when Ella had first been showing symptoms.
"Ah," Tae nodded. He wasn't actually really sure what he was supposed to say to that, but he could understand complicated. Almost every relationship he'd had, family and otherwise, had been extremely convoluted. Dahee-nim simultaneously saved him, but also... treated him differently than he thought most parents treated their children. Not that he was Dahee-nim's son, she made that abundantly clear often... he shook his head, getting her off his thoughts. "No, I don't think I do. I know he was Xavier's twin? And that something happened. Something. I don't know what, though. I don't... Is it really my place to ask?" He furrowed his brow. Family secrets were often kept tightly sealed, and Tae knew he wasn't to that level. Yet. Maybe never would be. "Everyone can be happier," he pointed out. "No one's the perfect level of happy." That's why he tried to be as nice as he could to everyone. You never know what someone's going through, and when they can just use someone with an easy smile and a gentle hand to help. Even if things were hard for him, helping someone else be happier was worth the extra energy it took. He tilted his head, though, confused again by Kel's words. "No, I think opposite way. Too young. Well, too sheltered, really. I've never uhhh never mind," he stopped in his tracks. He wasn't too sure he wanted to confess to a doctor that he'd never been to a doctor at all. Kel might start wanting to poke and prod at him and he didn't need all of that. If he felt bad, he might ask for some medicine or something, but that was it. "... Well it's good to know there's options," he said, trying not to let that blow his mind and failing. There were ways out of it? There were ways to tamp down on the panic attacks other than delving into his own mind and getting desenticized to everything? Meditation was great for some things, but controlling panic attacks were not one of them. No matter how deep his breathing, he couldn't stop it. "What does a therapist do? Is that a special kind of doctor?" he asked, not knowing the equivalent in Korean. He might be persuaded to seek that out, one day.
alexandersthewitch·:
Alex nodded. He was glad that he hadn’t tried to argue about it more. Arguing was such a confusing activity, two parties attempting to insert different ideas of reality until what was and what could be began to blur in his head. “The unmovable certainty of truth is comforting. Clouds may cover a mountain, but it is still there.” He was quiet, doing his best to separate thoughts from words. He didn’t want to trespass, especially in memories that smelled of cerise and pitch. Those were the private ones, usually. “Yellow can be streaky, angry. You’re yellow like butter, soft and curly. Colors can be good an bad, like people can be twisty. One color doesn’t define all the similar ones.” Alex hadn’t ever known another witch like him, and he’d known a few witches. Most of the ones he knew practiced general magic. Alex nodded again, and turned back to his work on the windows.
Hwan Tae nodded, understanding Alex for the first time. He agreed with that, rather wholeheartedly. Knowing what something is, or means, or does, is a lot more comforting than the unknown. Knowing that you had a roof over your head and food in the kitchen was a lot more comforting than packing up and moving half way across the world with nothing but the clothes on your back. Change can be good that way, but only when it moves upward. "Ooh, that's interesting. I like yellow. Blue's nice, too. It's like they have their own language for you!" Tae grinned, before turning back to his sketch. Colors meant a lot to him, with what they convey.