Family Relations (Interlude Part Three)
Tuesday, March 18th, 2014 07:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
challis_2070 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
mindcrackloveAlso known as- Why warzones are bad places for kids, or how to get people to communicate.
link to part seven- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/598581.html
Dinnerbone paced his room, concerned. He knew that Pyro must have read the note by now, but he had heard nothing from him. He was uncertain as to what to do now that he had gotten no reply.
ping!
Dinnerbone spun as he stared at his computer. He wasn’t aware of many people directly messaging him that way.
Hm.
Maybe Pyro wanted to contact him that way? He’d given him his name so he could find him, after all.
Hello, Dinnerbone? It’s Pyro.
Dinnerbone swiftly went over to the computer to see that it was indeed Pyro. Well, it had the username that he was really pretty sure Pyro was using.
Yes, this is Dinnerbone. What do you need?
Um…I wanted to talk to you, um; maybe you can come down here?
Dinnerbone blinked at that. He was really certain that he’d better not leave his room, looked like, then.
Sure, be down in a moment.
With that he logged off and made his way quietly to the door, before slinking down the stairs. He knew that dad had already gone into his own room, he normally would watch the news and then watch the television in his own room after that, if they didn’t choose to play any board games or anything. However, with Pyro still so…concerned, he figured to be extra quiet so that he wouldn’t be as concerned about dad hearing him.
He moved as quietly as he could, before quickly opening the door to Pyro’s room and entering it, before closing the door carefully behind him.
-----
Pyro watched as the door opened, praying that it was Dinnerbone.
He exhaled softly, relaxing when he saw that it was indeed Nathan.
“Hey. Thanks for coming down.”
“Sure. Wait. Why are we whispering?”
Pyro blinked at Dinnerbone. It wasn’t obvious why they were whispering?
“Cause I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, so…um…I don’t really want to get you in trouble, but I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh, okay. Look, I don’t even pretend to understand what’s wrong, and I’ve dealt with Millbee freaking out on a regular basis for the last eight years.”
“I…”
Pyro sucked on his teeth, trying to figure out how to word things.
“Home, I understand home. Keep your mouth shut, never talk to the army, protect your community against the invaders, protest. That’s simple. But here…”
He shrugged slightly.
“Here, I’ve got no idea what Uncle wants me to do. I mean, everything he seems to want would put me directly at risk, and that’s just…he can’t actually want that, everyone has said he’s a good guy, so he can’t possibly actually want me to do that!”
-----
Dinnerbone pondered what Pyro was saying, from where he was sitting on the bed.
“No, but. He doesn’t see it as you putting yourself at risk.”
How to put this? It was such a strange thing.
“This is a hard thing to explain but. Things that help you in the province won’t help you here. It. You were, well.”
“I was what?”
“You were born and raised in war zone. That -does- things to a person, Pyro! It’s not good.”
“I…”
-----
A war zone? He knew his family had called it that, but that the British government had never called it that. Something about legitimacy or something. Why would Dinnerbone refer to it that way?
“I…what do you mean? My life has been pretty good, you know.”
Dinnerbone sighed at him.
“No. Not…maybe compared to others there, but not the same as someone not in a war zone. It...okay, for example. I can go wherever I want, when I want. If I talk to the army, it’s only cause there was some kind of natural disaster, and they’re almost unfailingly polite. I’ve got no worries about being arrested for being in the wrong place, and I’ve never been barred from going somewhere based on my…ethnicity. It just…doesn’t happen. I mean, we all know somewhat about what’s happening over there, but…there are only a handful of places that are affected here. More now, but…it’s just…”
Pyro sighed. He didn’t get it, did he?
“Dinnerbone. I can understand that, but…it’s…just how many Irish nationals do you think are here that -aren’t- doing…things? Not many, okay? So…the most common thing would be to assume that’s what I am.”
“Look. What I’m saying is that you need to trust dad when he says he’s trying to do the best he can, and that we will do our best to protect you. I -know- this doesn’t help with how people would view you, but really, you’re still a kid! And besides, this place is pretty dang mixed. And I don’t just mean with Welshmen, ha! There are kids here from all over the commonwealth, hell, there’s at least one Nepali kid here currently. If anything, the school is simply not going to care who you are or where you’re from, as long as you, you know, don’t try to…um…”
“Don’t try to blow shit up, you mean?”
“Well…honestly, yeah.”
“Yeah, that’s…not something to worry about. Don’t know anything about that. I’m pretty good at holding signs at protests, though!”
“Right. Okay. Um, tomorrows Sunday, so, how about in the afternoon, Millbee and I show you where the local park is? It’s got some cool stuff, and a really nice food stand.”
“Really? That would be nice, thanks.”
Well, provided it was after he got back from mass and confession, yes.
“Well, um how about like, at 2pm or so?”
“Sure. Sounds good to me.”
2pm would certainly solve that problem.
With that, Pyro watched Dinnerbone carefully exit his room and quietly close the door behind him.
It was…nice, in a way, to know that Dinnerbone was concerned about him. But…it was just so strange. Trying to think about how things worked here, when it was so different from home, and yet so close by. Just…hard to fathom, really.
Well, maybe tomorrow would be better. Going to church almost always helped him, so he had some hopes for the morning.
link to part eight- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/603470.html#cutid1
link to part seven- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/598581.html
Dinnerbone paced his room, concerned. He knew that Pyro must have read the note by now, but he had heard nothing from him. He was uncertain as to what to do now that he had gotten no reply.
ping!
Dinnerbone spun as he stared at his computer. He wasn’t aware of many people directly messaging him that way.
Hm.
Maybe Pyro wanted to contact him that way? He’d given him his name so he could find him, after all.
Hello, Dinnerbone? It’s Pyro.
Dinnerbone swiftly went over to the computer to see that it was indeed Pyro. Well, it had the username that he was really pretty sure Pyro was using.
Yes, this is Dinnerbone. What do you need?
Um…I wanted to talk to you, um; maybe you can come down here?
Dinnerbone blinked at that. He was really certain that he’d better not leave his room, looked like, then.
Sure, be down in a moment.
With that he logged off and made his way quietly to the door, before slinking down the stairs. He knew that dad had already gone into his own room, he normally would watch the news and then watch the television in his own room after that, if they didn’t choose to play any board games or anything. However, with Pyro still so…concerned, he figured to be extra quiet so that he wouldn’t be as concerned about dad hearing him.
He moved as quietly as he could, before quickly opening the door to Pyro’s room and entering it, before closing the door carefully behind him.
-----
Pyro watched as the door opened, praying that it was Dinnerbone.
He exhaled softly, relaxing when he saw that it was indeed Nathan.
“Hey. Thanks for coming down.”
“Sure. Wait. Why are we whispering?”
Pyro blinked at Dinnerbone. It wasn’t obvious why they were whispering?
“Cause I don’t think you’re supposed to be here, so…um…I don’t really want to get you in trouble, but I wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh, okay. Look, I don’t even pretend to understand what’s wrong, and I’ve dealt with Millbee freaking out on a regular basis for the last eight years.”
“I…”
Pyro sucked on his teeth, trying to figure out how to word things.
“Home, I understand home. Keep your mouth shut, never talk to the army, protect your community against the invaders, protest. That’s simple. But here…”
He shrugged slightly.
“Here, I’ve got no idea what Uncle wants me to do. I mean, everything he seems to want would put me directly at risk, and that’s just…he can’t actually want that, everyone has said he’s a good guy, so he can’t possibly actually want me to do that!”
-----
Dinnerbone pondered what Pyro was saying, from where he was sitting on the bed.
“No, but. He doesn’t see it as you putting yourself at risk.”
How to put this? It was such a strange thing.
“This is a hard thing to explain but. Things that help you in the province won’t help you here. It. You were, well.”
“I was what?”
“You were born and raised in war zone. That -does- things to a person, Pyro! It’s not good.”
“I…”
-----
A war zone? He knew his family had called it that, but that the British government had never called it that. Something about legitimacy or something. Why would Dinnerbone refer to it that way?
“I…what do you mean? My life has been pretty good, you know.”
Dinnerbone sighed at him.
“No. Not…maybe compared to others there, but not the same as someone not in a war zone. It...okay, for example. I can go wherever I want, when I want. If I talk to the army, it’s only cause there was some kind of natural disaster, and they’re almost unfailingly polite. I’ve got no worries about being arrested for being in the wrong place, and I’ve never been barred from going somewhere based on my…ethnicity. It just…doesn’t happen. I mean, we all know somewhat about what’s happening over there, but…there are only a handful of places that are affected here. More now, but…it’s just…”
Pyro sighed. He didn’t get it, did he?
“Dinnerbone. I can understand that, but…it’s…just how many Irish nationals do you think are here that -aren’t- doing…things? Not many, okay? So…the most common thing would be to assume that’s what I am.”
“Look. What I’m saying is that you need to trust dad when he says he’s trying to do the best he can, and that we will do our best to protect you. I -know- this doesn’t help with how people would view you, but really, you’re still a kid! And besides, this place is pretty dang mixed. And I don’t just mean with Welshmen, ha! There are kids here from all over the commonwealth, hell, there’s at least one Nepali kid here currently. If anything, the school is simply not going to care who you are or where you’re from, as long as you, you know, don’t try to…um…”
“Don’t try to blow shit up, you mean?”
“Well…honestly, yeah.”
“Yeah, that’s…not something to worry about. Don’t know anything about that. I’m pretty good at holding signs at protests, though!”
“Right. Okay. Um, tomorrows Sunday, so, how about in the afternoon, Millbee and I show you where the local park is? It’s got some cool stuff, and a really nice food stand.”
“Really? That would be nice, thanks.”
Well, provided it was after he got back from mass and confession, yes.
“Well, um how about like, at 2pm or so?”
“Sure. Sounds good to me.”
2pm would certainly solve that problem.
With that, Pyro watched Dinnerbone carefully exit his room and quietly close the door behind him.
It was…nice, in a way, to know that Dinnerbone was concerned about him. But…it was just so strange. Trying to think about how things worked here, when it was so different from home, and yet so close by. Just…hard to fathom, really.
Well, maybe tomorrow would be better. Going to church almost always helped him, so he had some hopes for the morning.
link to part eight- http://mindcracklove.dreamwidth.org/603470.html#cutid1
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Date: Wednesday, March 19th, 2014 09:47 am (UTC)