CHULANE
Strength or weakness didn't come into it - Chulane wasn't here to call one weak for dealing with the shit hand they'd been dealt as they best could with the resources they had at the time. It simply was what it was - a symbiotic relationship, that ultimately was not healthy long-term, even if circumstances necessitated it for one to survive the short-term. But it was an easy trap to stay in, an easy way to live, never having to take responsibility for one's own actions completely, one's own emotions… It was never going to last, no matter how shielded, how strong the relationship was, how much strength and determination each member found in the other - it relied too much on both parties remaining alive, and present, at all times to survive. It simply wasn't going to work.
How aware was Weaver of Korbin's dependency on her, on this relationship? How far did she go to promote it, to nurture it? Did she know Korbin thought so little of himself, so much so that he thought he didn't matter at all? It was heartbreaking to hear, to realise how far the boy had gone along with this narrative. Chulane knew he was looking for something to blame, looking for a way not to be angry at this realisation, looking to shift the responsibility to one who could not defend herself anymore - but it wasn't Weavers fault, it wasn't even Korbin's fault. They had acted out of a need to survive, but their method was never meant to be so prolonged.
He kept listening, letting the words and all their implications wash over him. He learned a great many things, things that he would no doubt take away and digest properly later - compartmentalisation at its finest, letting him focus on the now in a crisis, letting him fall apart in private later (or never, who knows). It was a false strength, but he maintained it was not his turn to feel, not his turn to make this about him - he was here for Korbin, to convince he boy that he had to keep living, even if he had no clue how to do that.
"Korbin." Deep tones said sometime after the boy's words fell to silence, an attempt to get him back, to pull him away from wherever his words had taken him. "Korbin," he said again, as if to remind the boy that he had a name, an identity all his own, as if he was trying to give it back to him, to stamp him with it, brand him - he wanted to shake the boy, to slap him, to wake him from this dreary and terrifying abyss, but he didn't, he only had his words and his presence, and they felt wholly insufficient to handle the task he had set them.
"You do matter, Korbin. It's time to own yourself, to step up, to live for yourself." He let his voice boom, he let it resonate, hoping that it penetrated the numbness that had swallowed the boy, hoping that it had some kind of effect, that it elicited some kind of response. It was time for change, for adaptation, for him to stand on his own legs and take responsibility for his actions, his emotions, his own survival. And if he needed help, if he wasn't strong enough? He could lean on those around him, those who were trying to prop him up, who were forcing him to stay alive despite his wish to join his sister - why? Because they were selfish? Because they were filled with a moralistic need to preserve life if it could be preserved? If that is the truth, then so what? Chulane would feel no shame for saving a life that still had so much potential, so much life to live - and Korbin himself had done as much too, when given the opportunity to leave Chuy to die on the ice (twice, in fact).
"Weaver is dead." He said, softer than his previous words, but he had little doubt they would be the words that the boy heard the clearest. "And we will not have you follow her." He confirmed out loud, he announced it, unashamed, determined. "Call us selfish, call us fools and pricks and idiots, but Korbin, we are acting no different than you - we are acting on reflex." He hoped the very explanation that the boy had used previously would help to summon some kind of understanding, some kind of change within the boy. "You matter, Korbin - you recognise enough that a total stranger's life matters without knowing anything more about them, and you save them anyway, because you know that they matter as well." He sighed, praying his words were being heard - he'd just repeat them until Korbin showed some sign of hearing them, anyway.
"It's time to own your life Korbin. Time to stand for yourself. It's not going to be easy, but we are here for you, and we will not suffer another loss." That was the crux of it, really - they would keep intervening, keep on picking him up and making him live on, even if he objected, they simply wouldn't let him go.
How aware was Weaver of Korbin's dependency on her, on this relationship? How far did she go to promote it, to nurture it? Did she know Korbin thought so little of himself, so much so that he thought he didn't matter at all? It was heartbreaking to hear, to realise how far the boy had gone along with this narrative. Chulane knew he was looking for something to blame, looking for a way not to be angry at this realisation, looking to shift the responsibility to one who could not defend herself anymore - but it wasn't Weavers fault, it wasn't even Korbin's fault. They had acted out of a need to survive, but their method was never meant to be so prolonged.
He kept listening, letting the words and all their implications wash over him. He learned a great many things, things that he would no doubt take away and digest properly later - compartmentalisation at its finest, letting him focus on the now in a crisis, letting him fall apart in private later (or never, who knows). It was a false strength, but he maintained it was not his turn to feel, not his turn to make this about him - he was here for Korbin, to convince he boy that he had to keep living, even if he had no clue how to do that.
"Korbin." Deep tones said sometime after the boy's words fell to silence, an attempt to get him back, to pull him away from wherever his words had taken him. "Korbin," he said again, as if to remind the boy that he had a name, an identity all his own, as if he was trying to give it back to him, to stamp him with it, brand him - he wanted to shake the boy, to slap him, to wake him from this dreary and terrifying abyss, but he didn't, he only had his words and his presence, and they felt wholly insufficient to handle the task he had set them.
"You do matter, Korbin. It's time to own yourself, to step up, to live for yourself." He let his voice boom, he let it resonate, hoping that it penetrated the numbness that had swallowed the boy, hoping that it had some kind of effect, that it elicited some kind of response. It was time for change, for adaptation, for him to stand on his own legs and take responsibility for his actions, his emotions, his own survival. And if he needed help, if he wasn't strong enough? He could lean on those around him, those who were trying to prop him up, who were forcing him to stay alive despite his wish to join his sister - why? Because they were selfish? Because they were filled with a moralistic need to preserve life if it could be preserved? If that is the truth, then so what? Chulane would feel no shame for saving a life that still had so much potential, so much life to live - and Korbin himself had done as much too, when given the opportunity to leave Chuy to die on the ice (twice, in fact).
"Weaver is dead." He said, softer than his previous words, but he had little doubt they would be the words that the boy heard the clearest. "And we will not have you follow her." He confirmed out loud, he announced it, unashamed, determined. "Call us selfish, call us fools and pricks and idiots, but Korbin, we are acting no different than you - we are acting on reflex." He hoped the very explanation that the boy had used previously would help to summon some kind of understanding, some kind of change within the boy. "You matter, Korbin - you recognise enough that a total stranger's life matters without knowing anything more about them, and you save them anyway, because you know that they matter as well." He sighed, praying his words were being heard - he'd just repeat them until Korbin showed some sign of hearing them, anyway.
"It's time to own your life Korbin. Time to stand for yourself. It's not going to be easy, but we are here for you, and we will not suffer another loss." That was the crux of it, really - they would keep intervening, keep on picking him up and making him live on, even if he objected, they simply wouldn't let him go.
it is better to know some of the questions
than all of the answers
than all of the answers
