[That was not what he was expecting as a response, and it shows- Nox pauses for a long moment, frowning. Amal is asking a good question, though.]
Well, yeah- but a lot of people in places like that just want to make a living, you know? They're trying to enjoy themselves and actually do more than just... scrape by.
[He was lucky he got mostly a scholarship into school- the cheapest apartment outside the dorms was easily over $2000 for a studio, and people were flocking to it.
Still, he shrugs.] It doesn't always work, but people try regardless.
There's a lot of arguments too, sure. You'll get protests and police will show up and all that, but for the most part, it's civil. We coexist because we understand that life isn't easy in the city in a lot of ways. [A scoff, though it's more amused than anything else.] The housing sucks, landlords are rich assholes who like causing problems for their tenants, the public transportation system is overcrowded and usually late and we always groan about it but still take it anyway. It's... a sort of camaraderie, if that makes sense. We all struggle, but we're still all residents of the same place, and we understand the hardships we all face there.
[Those are a lot of concepts that he's only barely heard about and/or can barely understand, but he is quiet as he takes it in nonetheless. Nox's viewpoint is an important one. Amal grew up in what he thought was a big city, and he was never really able to settle in anywhere because no one wanted an urchin without steady work for a tenant. So that part checks out. But with that many people all together... the sense of community must be that much stronger when they're united in some cause or another.]
I've seen that. In smaller numbers, of course, but nevertheless... Something about being pushed to the brink shows you who people truly are. And sometimes that shows you the bad, but sometimes... the good is really good. And it's the good that people remember. It's the good that endures.
[He sets his beverage down, and leans his back against the counter with his palms braced against the edge, legs stretched out a little in front of him.]
You know... I left my home because I thought there was nothing left there for me. Oh, of course, my island is beautiful and I'm sure it still is—but when I looked around, I didn't see the beauty or the community... I didn't see anything I could be a part of. I'd slipped through the cracks until I couldn't reach anyone else no matter how far I stretched my hand.
[Amal's confirmation is good to hear, even if they come from immensely different places and cultures. Something about an understanding between them is a good feeling, all things considered.]
Jeez, Amal. You really went through the wringer, huh? I know several kids who went through similar stuff- either because of their parents, or because the actual system that's supposed to help them completely fails them. It's rough.
[But he's seen what kindness can do, what it means to a kid who has so little, to have someone actually care for them, to give appreciation and encouragement. Like maybe, just maybe, they aren't so alone in the world.
Still, the next question throws him for a moment, and he blinks with a bit of a stupor across his face. Do you think people can change? Nox tilts his head, crossing his arms and letting out a soft smile.]
Always. [That's... there's a feeling there that he doesn't quite get as to what it is, other than fondness. For who or for what is also unknown. But it's there all the same.] They have to want to work on it, though. It's definitely not an overnight thing. But yeah, people can always change if they want to.
[Nox cuts right to the heart of it. 'The wringer.' That's an understatement, but it's an apt description nonetheless, and the way his amber eyes cast downward says it all.]
There's no system at all for people like me. Everyone else has their place, their role that they were born into. But there will always be those who don't fit. The poor, the outcasts, the wounded who can't work. The nameless. I grew up in a paradise built atop the discarded.
The only paths available to me were servitude, or exile. Hardly a choice at all.
[He takes in Nox's answer. Whatever Nox is thinking of, he's sure of it. Confident in it, anyway. Amal isn't so sure, and it's written on his face. He smiles wistfully, and finally meets Nox's gaze.]
If I ever go back, I want to believe that what you said is true. I want to believe that my home can change... and that maybe I've changed, too.
[He reaches out to very, very lightly knuckle Nox in the arm.]
I never used to give people a chance. Maybe you're rubbing off on me.
[Kids who are left to fend for themselves, forced to grow up early and be the guardians to their siblings while their own parents fucked off and left for however many days, children left in foster care who never got someone to care for them until they could no longer be in the system... It's only been a few years, but Nox has heard and seen a lot. How people mean well, but fall short. How some parents don't even care at all.]
It may not seem like it, but I have a feeling I've seen it happen before. Not like, in school, but... elsewhere.
[Vergil, Dante. Nameless and faceless figures he doesn't know, but they changed as people, even after years of the same pattern.
Nox scoffs at Amal's words, though, grin wide.]
C'mon, it wasn't all me. You had to want to trust again too.
It was a long time ago. One day there will be a reckoning, but I'm not sure if I'll be a part of it or not.
[Amal is less than ambitious right now, still feeling that heavy weight of a past untold and unconfronted. He misses Thavnair terribly, but he doesn't miss the way he was treated. He doesn't know if it would change. He's afraid to find out.]
Then I'll choose to believe in that.
[He chuckles softly.]
Maybe! At home I'm surrounded by some very stubborn optimists.
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no subject
Well, yeah- but a lot of people in places like that just want to make a living, you know? They're trying to enjoy themselves and actually do more than just... scrape by.
[He was lucky he got mostly a scholarship into school- the cheapest apartment outside the dorms was easily over $2000 for a studio, and people were flocking to it.
Still, he shrugs.] It doesn't always work, but people try regardless.
There's a lot of arguments too, sure. You'll get protests and police will show up and all that, but for the most part, it's civil. We coexist because we understand that life isn't easy in the city in a lot of ways. [A scoff, though it's more amused than anything else.] The housing sucks, landlords are rich assholes who like causing problems for their tenants, the public transportation system is overcrowded and usually late and we always groan about it but still take it anyway. It's... a sort of camaraderie, if that makes sense. We all struggle, but we're still all residents of the same place, and we understand the hardships we all face there.
no subject
I've seen that. In smaller numbers, of course, but nevertheless... Something about being pushed to the brink shows you who people truly are. And sometimes that shows you the bad, but sometimes... the good is really good. And it's the good that people remember. It's the good that endures.
[He sets his beverage down, and leans his back against the counter with his palms braced against the edge, legs stretched out a little in front of him.]
You know... I left my home because I thought there was nothing left there for me. Oh, of course, my island is beautiful and I'm sure it still is—but when I looked around, I didn't see the beauty or the community... I didn't see anything I could be a part of. I'd slipped through the cracks until I couldn't reach anyone else no matter how far I stretched my hand.
Do you think people can change?
no subject
Jeez, Amal. You really went through the wringer, huh? I know several kids who went through similar stuff- either because of their parents, or because the actual system that's supposed to help them completely fails them. It's rough.
[But he's seen what kindness can do, what it means to a kid who has so little, to have someone actually care for them, to give appreciation and encouragement. Like maybe, just maybe, they aren't so alone in the world.
Still, the next question throws him for a moment, and he blinks with a bit of a stupor across his face. Do you think people can change? Nox tilts his head, crossing his arms and letting out a soft smile.]
Always. [That's... there's a feeling there that he doesn't quite get as to what it is, other than fondness. For who or for what is also unknown. But it's there all the same.] They have to want to work on it, though. It's definitely not an overnight thing. But yeah, people can always change if they want to.
no subject
There's no system at all for people like me. Everyone else has their place, their role that they were born into. But there will always be those who don't fit. The poor, the outcasts, the wounded who can't work. The nameless. I grew up in a paradise built atop the discarded.
The only paths available to me were servitude, or exile. Hardly a choice at all.
[He takes in Nox's answer. Whatever Nox is thinking of, he's sure of it. Confident in it, anyway. Amal isn't so sure, and it's written on his face. He smiles wistfully, and finally meets Nox's gaze.]
If I ever go back, I want to believe that what you said is true. I want to believe that my home can change... and that maybe I've changed, too.
[He reaches out to very, very lightly knuckle Nox in the arm.]
I never used to give people a chance. Maybe you're rubbing off on me.
no subject
[Kids who are left to fend for themselves, forced to grow up early and be the guardians to their siblings while their own parents fucked off and left for however many days, children left in foster care who never got someone to care for them until they could no longer be in the system... It's only been a few years, but Nox has heard and seen a lot. How people mean well, but fall short. How some parents don't even care at all.]
It may not seem like it, but I have a feeling I've seen it happen before. Not like, in school, but... elsewhere.
[Vergil, Dante. Nameless and faceless figures he doesn't know, but they changed as people, even after years of the same pattern.
Nox scoffs at Amal's words, though, grin wide.]
C'mon, it wasn't all me. You had to want to trust again too.
no subject
[Amal is less than ambitious right now, still feeling that heavy weight of a past untold and unconfronted. He misses Thavnair terribly, but he doesn't miss the way he was treated. He doesn't know if it would change. He's afraid to find out.]
Then I'll choose to believe in that.
[He chuckles softly.]
Maybe! At home I'm surrounded by some very stubborn optimists.