[Diarmuid just walks along pleasantly, more than happy to ramble about the enjoyable flavors of so many different countries. So many lands they'd never visit! America! Oh, he could go on and on about hamburgers (and absolutely has).
It's only when there's a lull in the conversation that the boy nudges the Mute with a sharp elbow.]
You know, you could always try more things. With new faces. [If the man thinks for a moment Diarmuid wouldn't continue to try and get him new friends in town, he's got another thing coming.] Surely you've ran into some of my acquaintances by now! They're all very nice, aren't they?
[it's not the first time that they've had a conversation like this before, and he doubts it'll be the last. the idea of having to build relationships with other people isn't something he looks forward to doing though. even back at the monastery, his contact with the monks had been minimal at best. unless they needed something from him, or he had some sort of chore that took him in to their vicinity, he hadn't really sought any of them out for company.
it was only ever diarmuid's persistence that had forced him out of that habit years ago, and left him grateful for those moments that the two of them were able to spend together. the friendship that they built, however undeserving of it he is, had quickly become the one bright point in his life. and now, stuck in this town, it's even more true than ever. he doesn't need anybody else to care about.
so of course, the idea of having to spend time with diarmuid's friends is still met with resistance. other than the few moments he's spent making sure that they aren't a danger to the boy, he hasn't seen any reason to seek them out again. why would he? he wasn't brought back for his own benefit. he didn't earn this third chance.
he glances, all too briefly, back at diarmuid. only barely able to make eye contact before he's looking away again. he doesn't like letting the boy down like this. but neither is he ready to start seeking company from others. not when he knows they won't be anywhere near as accepting of his silence as the monks were]
[He cannot help but sigh through his nose at that. Does he not realize... just how crucial knowing one another is? But he cannot change the man's headspace, cannot force him to do anything he will not. So he leaves it be, not forgotten, but shelved in the meanwhile.]
I've met a number of interesting people here; I owe many of them my lives, even...! And, if I may be so bold, I'd like to think I've returned the favor a number of times. Chloe, she gave me her last name. And Clara helped treat my wounds in her bathroom once. And Wade, he has put up with me being in trouble a few too many times...!
[Sorry, he's back to rambling to the quiet.]
Rei has recently returned, too; Rei, she'd helped me out of some difficult situations.
And when I'd d— [ah no no back it up-] When I'd gotten sick, she helped me through it. Even let me into her home to use her shower. You haven't even gotten to see a shower, have you? Running water is an incredible thing.
[more names to add to the list of people he needs to look in to. though some of the reasons for adding them are a little less welcome than he'd like though. injuries and danger and he still remembers just what diarmuid's scars look like. another reminder of his own failure to protect the one pure thing left in his (former) life. sure, he realises that there was very little he could do in the time before he woke up here. but that failure is something that he will always keep ahold of. if he'd just been here then maybe there wouldn't be a statue sitting in diarmuid's cabin right now.
(yes, he knows what that means now. but no, he isn't pushing for more)
at the mention of the shower, or running water, the mute looks almost...embarrassed. briefly. there's a few moments hesitation, before he lifts a hand, twisting at the wrist to mimic flushing the toilet. he's seen running water, but not under the best of circumstances.
in his defense, he'd needed to relieve himself and he hadn't realised he was in somebody's garden until after he had his trousers down. the less he has to think about the minutes that followed, the better. needless to say, a crash course in using a modern toilet is something he never wants to relive.]
[Oh, friend, if only he knew that's what you fretted over; he's learned that in the end, you can never truly protect someone fully. Just being there is what matters, be it late or not. Diarmuid just laughs softly at the gesture.]
Already had a horror story or two, a chara?
I had mistaken toilets for basins to clean one's hands first.
[A TRUE NIGHTMARE]
... I also learned that the lids of toilets are wonderful weapons...
[he doesn't really know where to start with that. on the one hand, knowing now what toilets are for, he can understand why diarmuid may have been embarrassed by that. but at the same time, it makes sense. a basin of water is still water. what other use would they have had for it, back at the monastery.
but it's the latter part that concerns him more. that gets his focus. because why would diarmuid need to know of an alternate use for a toilet lid? at what point did he find himself in a position to need to discover that?
(he knows, at some point, he'll need to make sure the boy can defend himself here. that neither of their stays are permanent, and that this town can pull them apart at any point. so if there's a way to help guarantee diarmuid's safety, they'll need to find it. even if it means the mute having to lift a sword again.)
he gives diarmuid a look, a press for more information. his expression is too serious for it to mean anything but a need for an elaboration on the makeshift weaponry part]
A friend had been blacksmithing downstairs, and was wearing a rather frightening mask. When she emerged out from the darkness toward me... well, the door to the downstairs is beside the toilet, and I had panicked and threw the heavy lid at her head and send her rolling down the stairs...
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It's only when there's a lull in the conversation that the boy nudges the Mute with a sharp elbow.]
You know, you could always try more things. With new faces. [If the man thinks for a moment Diarmuid wouldn't continue to try and get him new friends in town, he's got another thing coming.] Surely you've ran into some of my acquaintances by now! They're all very nice, aren't they?
no subject
it was only ever diarmuid's persistence that had forced him out of that habit years ago, and left him grateful for those moments that the two of them were able to spend together. the friendship that they built, however undeserving of it he is, had quickly become the one bright point in his life. and now, stuck in this town, it's even more true than ever. he doesn't need anybody else to care about.
so of course, the idea of having to spend time with diarmuid's friends is still met with resistance. other than the few moments he's spent making sure that they aren't a danger to the boy, he hasn't seen any reason to seek them out again. why would he? he wasn't brought back for his own benefit. he didn't earn this third chance.
he glances, all too briefly, back at diarmuid. only barely able to make eye contact before he's looking away again. he doesn't like letting the boy down like this. but neither is he ready to start seeking company from others. not when he knows they won't be anywhere near as accepting of his silence as the monks were]
no subject
I've met a number of interesting people here; I owe many of them my lives, even...! And, if I may be so bold, I'd like to think I've returned the favor a number of times. Chloe, she gave me her last name. And Clara helped treat my wounds in her bathroom once. And Wade, he has put up with me being in trouble a few too many times...!
[Sorry, he's back to rambling to the quiet.]
Rei has recently returned, too; Rei, she'd helped me out of some difficult situations.
And when I'd d— [ah no no back it up-] When I'd gotten sick, she helped me through it. Even let me into her home to use her shower. You haven't even gotten to see a shower, have you? Running water is an incredible thing.
no subject
(yes, he knows what that means now. but no, he isn't pushing for more)
at the mention of the shower, or running water, the mute looks almost...embarrassed. briefly. there's a few moments hesitation, before he lifts a hand, twisting at the wrist to mimic flushing the toilet. he's seen running water, but not under the best of circumstances.
in his defense, he'd needed to relieve himself and he hadn't realised he was in somebody's garden until after he had his trousers down. the less he has to think about the minutes that followed, the better. needless to say, a crash course in using a modern toilet is something he never wants to relive.]
no subject
Already had a horror story or two, a chara?
I had mistaken toilets for basins to clean one's hands first.
[A TRUE NIGHTMARE]
... I also learned that the lids of toilets are wonderful weapons...
no subject
but it's the latter part that concerns him more. that gets his focus. because why would diarmuid need to know of an alternate use for a toilet lid? at what point did he find himself in a position to need to discover that?
(he knows, at some point, he'll need to make sure the boy can defend himself here. that neither of their stays are permanent, and that this town can pull them apart at any point. so if there's a way to help guarantee diarmuid's safety, they'll need to find it. even if it means the mute having to lift a sword again.)
he gives diarmuid a look, a press for more information. his expression is too serious for it to mean anything but a need for an elaboration on the makeshift weaponry part]
no subject
A friend had been blacksmithing downstairs, and was wearing a rather frightening mask. When she emerged out from the darkness toward me... well, the door to the downstairs is beside the toilet, and I had panicked and threw the heavy lid at her head and send her rolling down the stairs...
[He holds up his hands.]
She was fine, though! A shaken brain, but...
... They call it a concussion.