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[plasticasshole]

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[plasticasshole]

[Connor nods even though Myr can't see it, with Trouble oozing back over (much slower than Crookytail) to see what's going on. Connor leans down to pick up the wormipede and carry him over to the bench, assuming Myr can handle getting to it fine on his own. He does keep an eye on him just incase, though.]

Thanks for this. I think I've needed to talk about it for a while now.

[faithlikeaseed]

[Myr does make it safely to the bench with Crookytail's help, and promptly plunks down on it. He sets his staff and bag off to his side of it, leaving them to the wormipede to guard.]

It sounds as if you have. How long as this been going on?

[The urge is very much there to reach out and put a reassuring hand on Connor. He folds his hands in his lap for the moment to resist it (speaking of Circle discipline).]

[plasticasshole]

I... I'm not sure.

[He has a perfect memory, but where his emotions are concerned it's difficult to say. He doesn't always recognise what his emotions are supposed to be.]

I think losing Justine and the SQUIP was upsetting, but I've noticed that ever since the Rathmores tortured me I've been...

[He doesn't know what the word is. He gestures emphatically to his chest, as if Myr could see it and understand what he means.]

I don't know. I've never been asked to put my emotions into words before. It's difficult. I'm sorry.

[faithlikeaseed]

[Myr's expression and ears both fall--at the mention of Justine, and the Rathmores. (It's harder to be upset about the loss of the SQUIP, though knowing what losing it had done to Connor means he can, at least, try.)

He can't see the gesture but can infer something of it, from the sound and the way the air moves around them.]

Don't be, little spark, [he says, gently.] This is hard work you've never done before.

[A breath, in and out.] Since the Rathmores tortured you, you've been...wounded. Afraid? Helpless? Angry?

[plasticasshole]

Helpless.

[That seems to fit.]

I couldn't stop them. And it... scared me. When I was freed, I spent a good while being afraid it would happen again. Even after they were executed, I felt unsafe. Incapable of protecting myself anymore.

[But what does he expect? He can fight, but magic will always win out over fists. And the only magic he has either requires him to be wet, or for water to be nearby.]