You're not wrong. He'd been low-key pissing me off the entire conversation, but somewhere around the moment he chose to lecture me on the glories of polygamy, it start to get really fucking frustrating.
I mean Jesus Christ, I'm not in a monogamous relationship because I don't understand how poly works or that it's a legit way for people to conduct their love lives. I'm in a monogamous relationship because that's what my boyfriend expects of me. It's the same goddamn reason he is in one—and obviously chafing at it and taking out his frustrations by badgering me.
...Far be it for me to explain to you how to anger him effectually. I have little interest in that specifically. Have I not said again and again that it is the duty of all to maintain peace?
[He shakes his head as he compiles breakfast. It's cold leftovers.]
However, you absolutely ceded ground to him. Your anger dims your wits, Steven, and that is a dangerous thing around the likes of our most eminent Emet-Selch.
...Not that I believe that he will harm you in any tangible way.
[All the while he spoke he found his thoughts turning only to the upset that Hades felt by his betrayals at all.]
However, I made my choice even if I have not made my peace in regards to my relationship.
You did. And you're right, I get stupid when I get angry. It's just—
[He sighs.]
I don't know. I really don't. Honestly, maybe he does have a point—what are you even doing hanging around me, anyway? I'm sure as hell not the smartest person in our circle of acquaintances and I'm sure that there are other people that if you confided in them, they would be able to give your situation the sympathy it deserves. Armin would make a much better confidant than I would.
[Maybe it wasn't just the part where Hades had started lecturing about the glories if polygamy that had gotten to Steven.]
I enjoy new experiences, within reason. Armin was too skeptical of my theories, and he isn't as accessible. While my draw to you was certainly a reaction born of unquenchable rage, that anger has been doused somewhat now.
I enjoy teaching, yet I was never offered a position at the Akadaemia.
[A mercy on the young adults, surely—]
Emet-Selch may understand the mind of the man I was made into counterfeit with perfect clarity, but I have very distinct reasons to withhold information, no matter how much it pains me. Speaking of such...
[There's a sound of shuffling papers coming through the speakers.]
I've busied myself with research on myriad subjects as of late. While Amaurotines would not be so crass as to call divergences in typical thought illnesses, I have found many books upon the matter describing it from the mortal point of view. Have you investigated such tomes before, Steven?
So it's mostly that you want someone to teach and I'm the person that's willing to learn. That-- makes sense, I suppose.
And-- yeah. I have. But I don't know how accurate they are. I mean, considering they considering loving men a mental illness for some time.
[He worries his lower lip between his teeth before he says,] Psychopathy. Maybe. If I'd have to pick anything from those books. But I really don't have a formal diagnosis, Hythlo.
It is barely science, yes, but the technological advancements are all rather rudimentary here. Most of them are but simple checklists. I am confident that any person with even the basest reading comprehension should be able to do it.
[ ...A little unfair, but he knows it. Amaurotines had the luxury of splendidly long education that they could access at will. They had much more practice with critical thought and information absorption. ]
Even if the measures are flawed, surely I could give you a proper diagnosis.
Because then it would be on record, which means that it could be leaked to the public somehow and it would destroy my career and my life. Same reason I was in the closet back home as far as my public life went--because I was a public figure, if only a local one.
[He's quiet for a moment.]
I'm not here. But... I do want to get on the air again someday. So-- I do kind of still want to stay away from official, on-record diagnoses. But I'd be okay with you informally diagnosing me, I guess.
According to the definitions afforded in this world, I have Anti-Social Personality Disorder and Autism. To be clear, we had no such diagnosis in Amaurot. Our care was better, more individually responsive to us. We were not categorized with such broad strokes when it came to the care of our minds.
[He's going to let that breathe for a moment before pressing Steven.]
You have Anti-Social Personality Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Which is a rarer combination and tends to result in less severe symptoms. This, I believe, is one of the main differences between you and Tyler.
You also very likely have depression that I believe does predate your traumatic event.
Right. Anti-Social Personality Disorder is the umbrella term for a couple things, including psychopathy and sociopathy. I'm... not surprised. By either diagnosis. Or the depression one, honestly.
[He's quiet for a moment before adding,] My little sister's autistic, technically. I mean, she's extremely well-socialized, so it's hard to tell for most people, but. [He sighs.] And I'm pretty sure my dad is as well, because she takes after him in a lot of ways, except that she's a lot more gregarious. But we get that from our mom.
Well. It's no wonder you and I get along, then. All the ways our minds aren't alike are still ones where I'm used to people with minds like that.
I had sensed that you were at ease with some of my more eccentric qualities. ...Well, to be more exact, you could have pulled away much sooner or questioned me.
Neither of those are a diagnosis, per se. Likewise, I cannot help but notice that many of the criteria points for the diagnosis and exacerbating factors would be well-handled in a more organized society.
Admittedly, I have only begun to meet people that are not well-socialized. Such a thing did not exist in Amaurot.
[But this is interesting and useful in many ways.]
... Tell me about them. Your sister and your father. I have begun to suspect that this society is wearing on me in ways that I do not yet understand how to cope with, much less truly thrive.
Well. My dad's a computer programmer. Lives and breathes code. He's-- quiet a lot of the time, until you get him talking about things he cares about and then he'll just-- talk and talk. It's nice, really, just to let the words wash over you. I always assumed it was part of the social contract to let the people you care about just-- talk at you like that. Because they'll let you do the same.
Um. What else. He's brilliant. Like really good in his field. He's a good person. Kind. Thoughtful. But-- awkward sometimes. Mom interfaces with people for him.
He likes science fiction. He can't cook normal things in the kitchen--well, I can't do a lot either--but he can barbecue things on an open flame. He's got a moustache. Glasses, too. I get my shitty eyesight from him and my build--Durantes are all big and solid--even though I get my pretty face from my mom. None of that has anything to do with helping you cope with society.
My little sister... Charley...
She's dead. [He lets a shaky breath out.] Sort of. I met her from the future during the weird weekend. She-- lingered on, as a spirit. Eventually I'll see her again. She says she's going to haunt me as long as she's allowed to.
Charley's just-- wonderful. She's not always great with people, but she's so sweet and earnest and caring... and she's smart too. She's downright brilliant. And creative. And super willing to experiment. And I just--
I miss her. So much. It's-- better now that I know she's-- a ghost, that something of her lives on. But I still do miss her. And I wish she were here with us.
[He shifts, about to change the hand holding the phone when he looks over at his cutieflies. He whispers something to them, barely audible, and one of them floats up to snag his phone in its little legs and hold it for him.]
[And then he just listens to Steven talk, already beginning to sort and extrapolate the information. He knows that he's been alive far, far too long to possibly tease apart what he was born with versus how he was raised. He considers for a moment that all this change was finally taking a real toll on him.
[When he's finished he makes a thoughtful noise.]
I understand, Steven. There are souls upon souls that I wish I could see again. It sounds as if that she must bargain with the ability to visit you that she is well-equipped.
She has to be summoned, but she's got this friend, Shinobu, that can do that. And I think my future self was learning how to do it too.
Anyway, they'd both-- well, mostly they needed to get away from everyone. Go somewhere quieter and just-- either lie down and not do anything for a while or lose themselves in a project. They both had hobbies, you know. Dad did pyrography--that is, wood-burning? And Charley did all kinds of things. Cooking. A lot of textile work. And writing. She was good at writing fiction, which I've never been--such a strong imagination, a real ear for dialog--she had some really great shit, both original works and fanworks. I even beta-read some of the fanfic when it was a fandom we shared.
But, I mean, the important thing for them is that they had some space to just-- get away from everything. And time to not force themselves to pretend to be normal people. That's why I told you that you don't have to force yourself to do normal people facial expressions and shit around me. Because while you don't really pretend to be a normal person, not exactly, outwardly emoting for other people does still count a little for that? And acting all the time is fucking tiring, even if it's something you do as easy as breathing.
I think with people like us--people with minds which are fundamentally different from other people's--whether it's what I have, what Charley has, or both of those--we just... need some time and space sometimes where we can be ourselves without pretense. Be psychopaths or autistics or-- or cognitive constructs brought to life. Because pretending to be someone you're not is so goddamn stressful.
That's what I didn't, couldn't tell Hades. That you come to hang out with me because I know who you are. I mean. He's right. I don't know Hythlodaeus of Amaurot at all. I don't-- have the kind of grasp of his fundamental character that years of familiarity and love has given Hades. But I know this you, the you that you are now, the you that's helping me get my head on straight, the you that's actually deeply worried and messed up because he came to life when he wasn't supposed to, that loves his ex-boyfriend enough to make friends with a guy he should by all rights hate just to make peace and--
Look. I don't know Original You. But I like You You, Hythlo. I like this version of you a lot. And-- fuck. I don't know. You can always be yourself around me, okay? I don't care how alien that is. Everyone deserves space to be themselves.
[There's a moment of silence.]
Sorry. I didn't mean to go all friendship speech on you like that. But I do mean it, Hythlo.
[As if Hythlodaeus wasn't used to people talking for twice as long as a matter of course.]
...I don't come off as normal? I swear to you, in Amaurot, I was normal.
[This is a genuine fucking shock that seems to put a lot of his interactions over the last couple months into perspective.]
Well, original me is long since dead. I may not be him, not really, but I don't have any competition either. I do make space for myself wherever I can... At least I thought so. Lately, it feels as if I have itches I just can't seem to scratch. Yet in spite of that, I do appreciate this. I do appreciate you, though it is impossible for me to explain to Hades.
Well yeah. Because then you'd have to explain about being Construct Hythlodaeus and then he'd be a dick about it, because you probably wouldn't count as person to him anymore and we all know what he's like when he doesn't think people are people. And even if he did decide you're a person, he'd still be a dick, because he'd be hurt you didn't tell him before.
And-- well. You probably were in Amaurot. Or more likely, you were like Charley, whose normal girl face is more like... acceptable eccentricity face. Not full-on normality, but the kind of kookiness that people aren't bothered by, because it's cute and harmless. She had this whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl thing going on. The kind of weirdness that almost doesn't count.
But. Well. Different worlds and different societies have different behavioral standards. So here you're less Acceptable Eccentric and more... Full On Weirdo. Sorry.
... but, well, that probably explains why I was pretty chill about being around you before you told me you were Hades' buddy and I had a tiny panic attack over it. And why as soon as I pushed past my fears and gave you a chance, I started to really, genuinely like you. Because... well. I honestly and genuinely love hanging around people like you? Like you and Charley and Dad. It's-- nice. Familiar. Homey. Good.
[Steven smiles, even though Hythlodaeus can't see it. Maybe he can hear it in his voice a little.]
You should meet Entrapta. She's another one like you guys. I knew it the first time she posted on the network. That's why I jumped at giving her the lift from Olivine to Azalea. I think you'd find her refreshing. I know you're more of a biologist than an engineer like her, but I'd still like to watch you two together.
[ There’s a lot of ground to cover here, so it’s good that his mental notes are unparalleled. ]
Was she playing pretend as a pixie? And that is considered normal?
[ He wasn’t loving mortal standards of anything, as per usual. ]
Rest assured, that I have met only one person that might properly fit into Amaurot as it is aside from who Hades used to be... So I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.
[ He does a quick search in his memory— ]
Oh, her. The girl who doesn’t give context. I like her.
I know! Fuck context--she's delightful! You guys definitely need to meet.
And-- uh, no, sorry. 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' is... it's the name for a sort of stock character in fiction. Film mostly. They're silly and quirky and girl-y and sweet and playful and they mostly exist for the depressed male protagonists to fall in love with and experience personal growth through loving. A lot of the time they don't get any backstory or interior life in these narratives. They're just-- there.
Anyway. Charley's version of pretending to be normal comes off a lot like your Manic Pixie Deam Girl stock character. It's easier for her to be like that instead of forcing her to act completely normal--but it's still an act, you know? And it does lead to the men in her life treating her like she's that stock character, that she's just there to make their lives magical and teach them how to love again. It's why-- it's why I get so protective about her when it comes to boys. Because it's really hard to trust that they do respect her as their own person and aren't just-- using her, I guess. Especially with how easily she gives her heart away.
[He makes a frustrated huff of sound.]
She did it with Hades, you know. Over the weird weekend. A lot of things are fuzzy, but Charley telling me about meeting him on the beach and having a fun afternoon together, almost like a date and just-- God. I'm so glad he's not really interested in women, because if he'd used my little sister to feel better about life and himself the same way those college boys did--
I mean. You know. Not that I can do anything. Not with the treaty. But I'd be very bitchy about it to you at the very least. Because Charley's been hurt by boys who treated her like their own cute little incarnation of personal growth. Badly too.
6/8 sent during the early morning
[What follows are screencaps of this entire conversation.]
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What were the terms of your ceasefire, as it were?
...I suppose I should go roast the coffee beans. He'll be hung over, surely.
[Each message is sent about thirty seconds apart. Rather long for the quick witted, deft-fingered Hythlodaeus.]
[Even if he speaks slowly.]
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But as you can see, I was *very good* throughout the conversation, even if he wasn't.
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I would know of your emotional process and your thoughts.
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Also, do you want to keep doing this with text or should we switch to voice?
Immediate phone call
[... Is how he chooses to greet Steven.]
Yet even so, I could almost feel your wrath for several messages before you finally invoked his current lover. Am I wrong?
Re: Immediate phone call
You're not wrong. He'd been low-key pissing me off the entire conversation, but somewhere around the moment he chose to lecture me on the glories of polygamy, it start to get really fucking frustrating.
I mean Jesus Christ, I'm not in a monogamous relationship because I don't understand how poly works or that it's a legit way for people to conduct their love lives. I'm in a monogamous relationship because that's what my boyfriend expects of me. It's the same goddamn reason he is in one—and obviously chafing at it and taking out his frustrations by badgering me.
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[He shakes his head as he compiles breakfast. It's cold leftovers.]
However, you absolutely ceded ground to him. Your anger dims your wits, Steven, and that is a dangerous thing around the likes of our most eminent Emet-Selch.
...Not that I believe that he will harm you in any tangible way.
[All the while he spoke he found his thoughts turning only to the upset that Hades felt by his betrayals at all.]
However, I made my choice even if I have not made my peace in regards to my relationship.
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[He sighs.]
I don't know. I really don't. Honestly, maybe he does have a point—what are you even doing hanging around me, anyway? I'm sure as hell not the smartest person in our circle of acquaintances and I'm sure that there are other people that if you confided in them, they would be able to give your situation the sympathy it deserves. Armin would make a much better confidant than I would.
[Maybe it wasn't just the part where Hades had started lecturing about the glories if polygamy that had gotten to Steven.]
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I enjoy teaching, yet I was never offered a position at the Akadaemia.
[A mercy on the young adults, surely—]
Emet-Selch may understand the mind of the man I was made into counterfeit with perfect clarity, but I have very distinct reasons to withhold information, no matter how much it pains me. Speaking of such...
[There's a sound of shuffling papers coming through the speakers.]
I've busied myself with research on myriad subjects as of late. While Amaurotines would not be so crass as to call divergences in typical thought illnesses, I have found many books upon the matter describing it from the mortal point of view. Have you investigated such tomes before, Steven?
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So it's mostly that you want someone to teach and I'm the person that's willing to learn. That-- makes sense, I suppose.
And-- yeah. I have. But I don't know how accurate they are. I mean, considering they considering loving men a mental illness for some time.
[He worries his lower lip between his teeth before he says,] Psychopathy. Maybe. If I'd have to pick anything from those books. But I really don't have a formal diagnosis, Hythlo.
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[ ...A little unfair, but he knows it. Amaurotines had the luxury of splendidly long education that they could access at will. They had much more practice with critical thought and information absorption. ]
Even if the measures are flawed, surely I could give you a proper diagnosis.
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[Was that meant to be a subtle insult towards humans? Steven doesn't know anymore. God, he's so tired. Sinnoh can't come soon enough.]
But-- off the record and unofficially, what would be your best guess?
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[ A beat, as he considers something. ]
If it makes you feel any better, I’ll tell you mine.
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[He's quiet for a moment.]
I'm not here. But... I do want to get on the air again someday. So-- I do kind of still want to stay away from official, on-record diagnoses. But I'd be okay with you informally diagnosing me, I guess.
... what is yours?
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[He's going to let that breathe for a moment before pressing Steven.]
You have Anti-Social Personality Disorder and Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Which is a rarer combination and tends to result in less severe symptoms. This, I believe, is one of the main differences between you and Tyler.
You also very likely have depression that I believe does predate your traumatic event.
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[He's quiet for a moment before adding,] My little sister's autistic, technically. I mean, she's extremely well-socialized, so it's hard to tell for most people, but. [He sighs.] And I'm pretty sure my dad is as well, because she takes after him in a lot of ways, except that she's a lot more gregarious. But we get that from our mom.
Well. It's no wonder you and I get along, then. All the ways our minds aren't alike are still ones where I'm used to people with minds like that.
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Neither of those are a diagnosis, per se. Likewise, I cannot help but notice that many of the criteria points for the diagnosis and exacerbating factors would be well-handled in a more organized society.
Admittedly, I have only begun to meet people that are not well-socialized. Such a thing did not exist in Amaurot.
[But this is interesting and useful in many ways.]
... Tell me about them. Your sister and your father. I have begun to suspect that this society is wearing on me in ways that I do not yet understand how to cope with, much less truly thrive.
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Um. What else. He's brilliant. Like really good in his field. He's a good person. Kind. Thoughtful. But-- awkward sometimes. Mom interfaces with people for him.
He likes science fiction. He can't cook normal things in the kitchen--well, I can't do a lot either--but he can barbecue things on an open flame. He's got a moustache. Glasses, too. I get my shitty eyesight from him and my build--Durantes are all big and solid--even though I get my pretty face from my mom. None of that has anything to do with helping you cope with society.
My little sister... Charley...
She's dead. [He lets a shaky breath out.] Sort of. I met her from the future during the weird weekend. She-- lingered on, as a spirit. Eventually I'll see her again. She says she's going to haunt me as long as she's allowed to.
Charley's just-- wonderful. She's not always great with people, but she's so sweet and earnest and caring... and she's smart too. She's downright brilliant. And creative. And super willing to experiment. And I just--
I miss her. So much. It's-- better now that I know she's-- a ghost, that something of her lives on. But I still do miss her. And I wish she were here with us.
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[And then he just listens to Steven talk, already beginning to sort and extrapolate the information. He knows that he's been alive far, far too long to possibly tease apart what he was born with versus how he was raised. He considers for a moment that all this change was finally taking a real toll on him.
[When he's finished he makes a thoughtful noise.]
I understand, Steven. There are souls upon souls that I wish I could see again. It sounds as if that she must bargain with the ability to visit you that she is well-equipped.
What would they do when they were stressed?
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Anyway, they'd both-- well, mostly they needed to get away from everyone. Go somewhere quieter and just-- either lie down and not do anything for a while or lose themselves in a project. They both had hobbies, you know. Dad did pyrography--that is, wood-burning? And Charley did all kinds of things. Cooking. A lot of textile work. And writing. She was good at writing fiction, which I've never been--such a strong imagination, a real ear for dialog--she had some really great shit, both original works and fanworks. I even beta-read some of the fanfic when it was a fandom we shared.
But, I mean, the important thing for them is that they had some space to just-- get away from everything. And time to not force themselves to pretend to be normal people. That's why I told you that you don't have to force yourself to do normal people facial expressions and shit around me. Because while you don't really pretend to be a normal person, not exactly, outwardly emoting for other people does still count a little for that? And acting all the time is fucking tiring, even if it's something you do as easy as breathing.
I think with people like us--people with minds which are fundamentally different from other people's--whether it's what I have, what Charley has, or both of those--we just... need some time and space sometimes where we can be ourselves without pretense. Be psychopaths or autistics or-- or cognitive constructs brought to life. Because pretending to be someone you're not is so goddamn stressful.
That's what I didn't, couldn't tell Hades. That you come to hang out with me because I know who you are. I mean. He's right. I don't know Hythlodaeus of Amaurot at all. I don't-- have the kind of grasp of his fundamental character that years of familiarity and love has given Hades. But I know this you, the you that you are now, the you that's helping me get my head on straight, the you that's actually deeply worried and messed up because he came to life when he wasn't supposed to, that loves his ex-boyfriend enough to make friends with a guy he should by all rights hate just to make peace and--
Look. I don't know Original You. But I like You You, Hythlo. I like this version of you a lot. And-- fuck. I don't know. You can always be yourself around me, okay? I don't care how alien that is. Everyone deserves space to be themselves.
[There's a moment of silence.]
Sorry. I didn't mean to go all friendship speech on you like that. But I do mean it, Hythlo.
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...I don't come off as normal? I swear to you, in Amaurot, I was normal.
[This is a genuine fucking shock that seems to put a lot of his interactions over the last couple months into perspective.]
Well, original me is long since dead. I may not be him, not really, but I don't have any competition either. I do make space for myself wherever I can... At least I thought so. Lately, it feels as if I have itches I just can't seem to scratch. Yet in spite of that, I do appreciate this. I do appreciate you, though it is impossible for me to explain to Hades.
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And-- well. You probably were in Amaurot. Or more likely, you were like Charley, whose normal girl face is more like... acceptable eccentricity face. Not full-on normality, but the kind of kookiness that people aren't bothered by, because it's cute and harmless. She had this whole Manic Pixie Dream Girl thing going on. The kind of weirdness that almost doesn't count.
But. Well. Different worlds and different societies have different behavioral standards. So here you're less Acceptable Eccentric and more... Full On Weirdo. Sorry.
... but, well, that probably explains why I was pretty chill about being around you before you told me you were Hades' buddy and I had a tiny panic attack over it. And why as soon as I pushed past my fears and gave you a chance, I started to really, genuinely like you. Because... well. I honestly and genuinely love hanging around people like you? Like you and Charley and Dad. It's-- nice. Familiar. Homey. Good.
[Steven smiles, even though Hythlodaeus can't see it. Maybe he can hear it in his voice a little.]
You should meet Entrapta. She's another one like you guys. I knew it the first time she posted on the network. That's why I jumped at giving her the lift from Olivine to Azalea. I think you'd find her refreshing. I know you're more of a biologist than an engineer like her, but I'd still like to watch you two together.
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Was she playing pretend as a pixie? And that is considered normal?
[ He wasn’t loving mortal standards of anything, as per usual. ]
Rest assured, that I have met only one person that might properly fit into Amaurot as it is aside from who Hades used to be... So I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.
[ He does a quick search in his memory— ]
Oh, her. The girl who doesn’t give context. I like her.
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And-- uh, no, sorry. 'Manic Pixie Dream Girl' is... it's the name for a sort of stock character in fiction. Film mostly. They're silly and quirky and girl-y and sweet and playful and they mostly exist for the depressed male protagonists to fall in love with and experience personal growth through loving. A lot of the time they don't get any backstory or interior life in these narratives. They're just-- there.
Anyway. Charley's version of pretending to be normal comes off a lot like your Manic Pixie Deam Girl stock character. It's easier for her to be like that instead of forcing her to act completely normal--but it's still an act, you know? And it does lead to the men in her life treating her like she's that stock character, that she's just there to make their lives magical and teach them how to love again. It's why-- it's why I get so protective about her when it comes to boys. Because it's really hard to trust that they do respect her as their own person and aren't just-- using her, I guess. Especially with how easily she gives her heart away.
[He makes a frustrated huff of sound.]
She did it with Hades, you know. Over the weird weekend. A lot of things are fuzzy, but Charley telling me about meeting him on the beach and having a fun afternoon together, almost like a date and just-- God. I'm so glad he's not really interested in women, because if he'd used my little sister to feel better about life and himself the same way those college boys did--
I mean. You know. Not that I can do anything. Not with the treaty. But I'd be very bitchy about it to you at the very least. Because Charley's been hurt by boys who treated her like their own cute little incarnation of personal growth. Badly too.
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