Luther Scott (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prayformefather) wrote2012-12-14 02:52 pm
prayformefather) wrote2012-12-14 02:52 pm
nine // spam/video
[Spam for Tim]
Things had been strange, since they'd gone to the Overlook. Not bad, but strange, because Luther still felt like he should be angry with Tim for what had happened, but he wasn't. He wasn't resentful, or plotting or angry, he was just... normal. The bruises had faded, so there wasn't even a physical reminder of what had happened. Life went on. And he wasn't mad.
He didn't know when that had changed, when he'd stopped feeling the need to lash out in revenge when he was hurt, except that he just didn't feel that impulse anymore. He knew what it was like, to not actually be yourself and end up hurting someone, and to have people blame you for it, and he just didn't have it in him to be mad at Tim about it. Or anyone, really, if they'd done something.
He hadn't said anything about it to anyone until he was over at Tim's place, playing video games with his warden and more or less just talking about pointless crap and focusing on the game, and when there was a lull in the conversation and in the game, he finally just looked over at his warden and came out with it.
"I'm seriously not mad about what happened in the hotel."
[Public]
[Luther is sitting at his desk in his room, wearing a white t-shirt and looking kind of... uncomfortable's the wrong word, really, because he looks happy, but also a little like he doesn't really know where to start addressing people.]
I've been here for about seven months. I know that's not really a long time when you compare it to how long some people've been here, and it doesn't even feel like it's been that long to me, sometimes. Time's weird.
Anyway, this isn't going to be some lame confession about what I did before coming here, because I've talked about it enough and frankly, I seriously doubt any of you care enough to hear about it. [But mostly he just really doesn't want to talk about it still. It's shameful and shitty, and he just wants to go back and do all of it over again.
Still, instead of just wrapping this up, saying what he needs to say and continuing with the sort of flippant bravado that's as second nature as breathing, he gets a little more serious, because this is personal, and he feels sort of stupid saying this to a broad audience.]
When I got here, I didn't think I deserved to be here. Not like, because I hadn't done bad things, [Although that was also sort of true, even if he'd realized faster that he was being a complete idiot.] but because I just wanted to be dead. I didn't want to deal with what had happened anymore, so I basically tried to make sure I wouldn't have to. [By basically goading a cop into shooting him.] And then I woke up here.
It took me a long time to get over that, because I just didn't want to deal with anything. And, really, that's kind of bullshit. This place sucks, but feeling sorry for yourself when you're being handed a second chance you - or someone else, whatever - don't think you deserve is just using a lot of energy you could turn around and do something else with. I sort of wish someone would've hit me in the face with that earlier.
[He shrugs and smiles a little, somewhere between smug and self depreciating, because he still feels like an asshole, but he's getting out of here. Maybe he'll actually get to do something with his life now.] So, I guess that's it. I'm not sticking around here a minute more than I have to, but it's been real, Barge.
Things had been strange, since they'd gone to the Overlook. Not bad, but strange, because Luther still felt like he should be angry with Tim for what had happened, but he wasn't. He wasn't resentful, or plotting or angry, he was just... normal. The bruises had faded, so there wasn't even a physical reminder of what had happened. Life went on. And he wasn't mad.
He didn't know when that had changed, when he'd stopped feeling the need to lash out in revenge when he was hurt, except that he just didn't feel that impulse anymore. He knew what it was like, to not actually be yourself and end up hurting someone, and to have people blame you for it, and he just didn't have it in him to be mad at Tim about it. Or anyone, really, if they'd done something.
He hadn't said anything about it to anyone until he was over at Tim's place, playing video games with his warden and more or less just talking about pointless crap and focusing on the game, and when there was a lull in the conversation and in the game, he finally just looked over at his warden and came out with it.
"I'm seriously not mad about what happened in the hotel."
[Public]
[Luther is sitting at his desk in his room, wearing a white t-shirt and looking kind of... uncomfortable's the wrong word, really, because he looks happy, but also a little like he doesn't really know where to start addressing people.]
I've been here for about seven months. I know that's not really a long time when you compare it to how long some people've been here, and it doesn't even feel like it's been that long to me, sometimes. Time's weird.
Anyway, this isn't going to be some lame confession about what I did before coming here, because I've talked about it enough and frankly, I seriously doubt any of you care enough to hear about it. [But mostly he just really doesn't want to talk about it still. It's shameful and shitty, and he just wants to go back and do all of it over again.
Still, instead of just wrapping this up, saying what he needs to say and continuing with the sort of flippant bravado that's as second nature as breathing, he gets a little more serious, because this is personal, and he feels sort of stupid saying this to a broad audience.]
When I got here, I didn't think I deserved to be here. Not like, because I hadn't done bad things, [Although that was also sort of true, even if he'd realized faster that he was being a complete idiot.] but because I just wanted to be dead. I didn't want to deal with what had happened anymore, so I basically tried to make sure I wouldn't have to. [By basically goading a cop into shooting him.] And then I woke up here.
It took me a long time to get over that, because I just didn't want to deal with anything. And, really, that's kind of bullshit. This place sucks, but feeling sorry for yourself when you're being handed a second chance you - or someone else, whatever - don't think you deserve is just using a lot of energy you could turn around and do something else with. I sort of wish someone would've hit me in the face with that earlier.
[He shrugs and smiles a little, somewhere between smug and self depreciating, because he still feels like an asshole, but he's getting out of here. Maybe he'll actually get to do something with his life now.] So, I guess that's it. I'm not sticking around here a minute more than I have to, but it's been real, Barge.
[spam]
He doesn't know what he was going to say - he probably would have asked, really, but whatever it would have been was cut off with a breathe as a soft clinking sound reached his ears. Turning, Tim's eyes scanned the area, and settled quickly on the end table. For a moment, he was still - then he stretched out, grabbing a plat of cookies that had not been there before, and pulling it over to hold between them. They had smiley faces on them, every single one, and after a silent moment, Tim laughed.
"I seriously think you just graduated."
no subject
[spam]
But apparently it wasn't, and he watched as Tim reached for whatever it was, staring at the plate of cookies in Tim's hand, seriously not sure what to make of them even as Tim apparently confirmed it.
He graduated.
Luther laughed, not really sure he believed it. "Seriously? If I knew it was that easy, I would have said something months ago."
no subject
no subject
But I hope you find the right one for you.
private; video
[spam]
Luther would have his second chance, Lian would be alive, Roy wouldn't...well. Things were good, and a small part of him was cataloging what was next, who was next.
"So, have you decided what you're going to do?"