( what she wants to say: ana kuya did her best, for all that her maternal instincts were more akin to a mother bird knocking its children from a nest, ensuring they had all they needed for a (minimal) chance at survival. what she wants to say: there had never been room for it in ravka's plans for her, the path she had been taught to follow: conscription, followed by a dull retirement in a duller countryside, toiling infertile fields into obscurity.
what she says instead: )
There are no universities in Ravka. Every son and daughter is raised knowing they'll be conscripted. Ony nobles can afford private tutors.
( and, unspoken: the right to bribe their child out of a dangerous position in the first army. )
[ Which is the wrong thing to say, but everything he wants to say right now would be wrong. Fuck. Lacks specificity. That's not fair. True, but what is?
What he'd really like to do is give her a hug. Let the compass of his arms, its warmth and tangible sincerity, break down all the bullshit of class and gender and distant universes. That might be the wrong thing to do too, but it's the best he's got. ]
Well, I'd prefer to invest a lot of money in infrastructure, but that's a hard sell to municipal governments
so other tactics include making more spaces for plants. Bigger sidewalks. Giving people places they can be outside their homes where they're not expected to spend money.
( predictably, she glosses over the apology, leaving it unattended and unacknowledged. she hadn't meant it to evoke pity any more than a discussion of the weather warrants sympathy, the very idea of it anathema to ravkan children. it's not as though she had known another way of life, she wants to say, born into a conflict that's long existed before alina starkov was even a glimmer of life at the heart of creation — nothing to compare it to, no time of peace among war to miss — but she has her doubts matt would allow her to settle for the line of thinking.
so, unhelpfully: )
I'm starting to think we might come from very different places. But I understand what you mean.
( well. mostly. in spirit, if nothing else. )
Even if Ravka's coffers weren't running dry, the King wouldn't be sparing any coin on repairing villages. Those with the power to make changes rarely want to use it for the good of their people. That fact seems to be a constant across all worlds.
[ Matt thinks he comes from a different place than pretty much everyone, at bottom. Some of that is his own insecurities, the self-pitying story he hasn't really thought to question. Siri, play "Freak." But some is his conviction that words are a poor medium for conveying experience. Some people are eloquent enough to overcome the barrier. Not him. ]
Yeah.
I guess to your point, that means no matter where I am, there's always work to do.
[ Left on its own, this text looks grim to him, which is not how the thought makes him feel. So for context, Matt adds: ]
( cute. but she's luring herself away from the point she wants to make, which is: )
It might not be so bad to let yourself just be, sometimes, either.
( a projection on her behalf, in some small part — like if matt grants himself permission, then ... maybe it isn't so wrong, so misguided of her, to find some reprieve in an existence here. maybe she isn't so irresponsibly monstrous, to carve out some corner of happiness in the world while ravka suffers on without her to hold its hand like the lost, ailing child her country has become. )
( most of matt is generous, a well of kindness that seems to run unsettlingly deep. the problem, of course, is that living in the moment would mean being present with herself — gauging her nerve-endings, sitting with the oppressive weight of her thoughts on her chest, fully inhabiting her own body until she's smothered by everything she is.
there's very little else that sounds worse to her than not being able to escape from herself.
sometimes it's easier to clean a room by pushing the dust and cobwebs and junk into the closet, beneath the bed, behind chairs until it's fit to bursting. same concept with her thoughts — if she doesn't have to look at the mess of them, they simply don't exist. )
cw references to child soldiers
( what she wants to say: ana kuya did her best, for all that her maternal instincts were more akin to a mother bird knocking its children from a nest, ensuring they had all they needed for a (minimal) chance at survival. what she wants to say: there had never been room for it in ravka's plans for her, the path she had been taught to follow: conscription, followed by a dull retirement in a duller countryside, toiling infertile fields into obscurity.
what she says instead: )
There are no universities in Ravka. Every son and daughter is raised knowing they'll be conscripted.
Ony nobles can afford private tutors.
( and, unspoken: the right to bribe their child out of a dangerous position in the first army. )
How do you help them work better?
no subject
[ A pause between texts. ]
I'm sorry.
[ Which is the wrong thing to say, but everything he wants to say right now would be wrong. Fuck. Lacks specificity. That's not fair. True, but what is?
What he'd really like to do is give her a hug. Let the compass of his arms, its warmth and tangible sincerity, break down all the bullshit of class and gender and distant universes. That might be the wrong thing to do too, but it's the best he's got. ]
Well, I'd prefer to invest a lot of money in infrastructure, but that's a hard sell to municipal governments
so other tactics include making more spaces for plants. Bigger sidewalks. Giving people places they can be outside their homes where they're not expected to spend money.
no subject
so, unhelpfully: )
I'm starting to think we might come from very different places.
But I understand what you mean.
( well. mostly. in spirit, if nothing else. )
Even if Ravka's coffers weren't running dry, the King wouldn't be sparing any coin on repairing villages.
Those with the power to make changes rarely want to use it for the good of their people.
That fact seems to be a constant across all worlds.
no subject
Yeah.
I guess to your point, that means no matter where I am, there's always work to do.
[ Left on its own, this text looks grim to him, which is not how the thought makes him feel. So for context, Matt adds: ]
=)
no subject
( cute. but she's luring herself away from the point she wants to make, which is: )
It might not be so bad to let yourself just be, sometimes, either.
( a projection on her behalf, in some small part — like if matt grants himself permission, then ... maybe it isn't so wrong, so misguided of her, to find some reprieve in an existence here. maybe she isn't so irresponsibly monstrous, to carve out some corner of happiness in the world while ravka suffers on without her to hold its hand like the lost, ailing child her country has become. )
no subject
[ And ultimately undermines his long-term goals, his dreams of usefulness and betterment. After all, one can't serve out of an empty vessel.
This may not be exactly what Alina had in mind, but at least he agrees with her on paper. ]
And like I said before, I'm good at living in the moment. Those breathing exercises, you know?
So if you ever want a lesson ... you know where to find me
=) =) =)
no subject
( most of matt is generous, a well of kindness that seems to run unsettlingly deep. the problem, of course, is that living in the moment would mean being present with herself — gauging her nerve-endings, sitting with the oppressive weight of her thoughts on her chest, fully inhabiting her own body until she's smothered by everything she is.
there's very little else that sounds worse to her than not being able to escape from herself.
sometimes it's easier to clean a room by pushing the dust and cobwebs and junk into the closet, beneath the bed, behind chairs until it's fit to bursting. same concept with her thoughts — if she doesn't have to look at the mess of them, they simply don't exist. )
I'll keep it in mind.
=)