💭
Oddly enough, Aesop doesn’t start out answering as much as he’s begun writing quietly. A pregnant pause ensues, that is, before he glances up from the sheet - however, it appears he’s reading off of it, trying to memorize the words. Despite his best efforts, his memory isn’t promising, especially due to the brain fog coming about of informing another of how you feel about them. That, and Naib could occasionally appear intimidating.
“He doesn’t care enough about himself, which is a rarity in most circles I’ve been a participant of. For someone who continues to save everyone else through one method or another, he doesn’t stop to think about how valuable he’s become. It’s odd that he can be cocky, however - It’s not at all that he lacks confidence, I admire that, and find it admirable that he can conduct himself without thinking to how others might perceive him.”His brows furrow, a hand reaching his forehead as if to block anyone’s view of him as, under the surgical mask, the mortician’s visage contorted into a frown.
“I wish I could have that confidence. It comes only rarely. I envy him. That is not to say I discount his own troubles; it seems a good portion of us all have been through some tragedy. I feel terrible that I can’t alleviate some of those problems, it’s difficult to watch him in pain, mattering on the situation. Sometimes, I recognize I’ve become desensitized to pain through my own line of work. We all need some form of help, if only he would accept when it’s offered to him.”
A pause. A deep breath. Talking is difficult, even with a pre-planned message. Did he say anything that could be taken as offensive?
“But I’m a hypocrite. Anyways, while I can’t entirely relate to his shellshock, at the very least I’m aware of how unpleasant loud noises can be, especially from gunfire, or even a growing crowd. It’s difficult to imagine that paired with some such things being a reminder of war, which is horrid in and of itself. The death toll is too great for our country to be holding that as anything positive. He goes through enough on a regular basis, it’s a bit muddled as to why he’s here. Adrenaline isn’t a worthy excuse. Does he realize the weight of the mistake he made? Of course, again, despite his confidence, he doesn’t conjure any of it as to realize he could do with some care.
That other people care for him, and if he doesn’t care for himself, he could do with using others caring as a reason.”
He’d only written the equivalent of footnotes, small notations of which to remember more lengthy things, but now, there’s nothing else on the sheet.
“Mister Subedar is…a good man, who I look up to at times.” A pause. Something still feels missing, but it’s not on the sheet, so he continues to nervously tap the sheet against his hand, as if using that to generate another sentence via osmosis of words into flesh.
“I wish I were that strong. I wish I didn’t have to rehearse my lines. He needs to care more for himself, or I might remind him to, and if I have to remind him, I will become irritable very quickly.”
There’s still something missing, but mulling over it too long will become upsetting, so there, he’s finished.
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ooc; The fem!event was held off for this one as it wasn’t a drawn ask.
