The Autumn Child (
sharpeningthebones) wrote in
rainbowfic2013-08-12 02:15 pm
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Entry tags:
Quill Grey
Name: Mallory
Story: No Child Is Spared
Colors: Quill Grey: A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracián
Supplies: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count; 264
Notes: Thaddeus and Sullivan are two fo the the kids who have not really been written about. They come up in passing eery so often but that is about it. I thought I should change that. This is from Thaddeus' point of view and he is a dear and makes me want to do crossovrs with and The Devil... with him being a fan of Percival's stuff and possibly being the most awkward BNF ever.
Summary: Thaddeus on communication and how hard it is.
He loved books.
It was a simple truth, one that defined him more than even he would care to admit. Books, language, the ability to communicate and transfer ideas from one individual to another, was utterly fascinating to him and he loved it.
But he was never good at it.
His brother, he was good at it. He had a sharp tongue and never seemed to struggle for words. The people around him were the same way, they never fought with words the way he did, struggled against the confines of language.
He wanted to express with his hands, with his mouth, with his eyes, with every part of hm. He wanted to be a living transference of ideas but he could never get the words right, or the movements correct or...or anything.
People were so hard, communication with them even harder. He wanted to, he did, but even over the internet, his medium of choice, he still struggled to coney ideas that he wanted to put out there.
But his brother listened to him when he babbled about things like social justice and fandom and life in general. A few other people did too and, sometimes, when he had enough time to sit and string the words together, he could come up with a way to actually communicate that he felt proud to call his own.
He would doubt himself as soon as he posted, of course, but he would be proud for those few minutes, pleased with hiself that he actually got the words out, even if they weren't exactly right.
Story: No Child Is Spared
Colors: Quill Grey: A synonym is a word you use when you can't spell the other one. - Baltasar Gracián
Supplies: None
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count; 264
Notes: Thaddeus and Sullivan are two fo the the kids who have not really been written about. They come up in passing eery so often but that is about it. I thought I should change that. This is from Thaddeus' point of view and he is a dear and makes me want to do crossovrs with and The Devil... with him being a fan of Percival's stuff and possibly being the most awkward BNF ever.
Summary: Thaddeus on communication and how hard it is.
He loved books.
It was a simple truth, one that defined him more than even he would care to admit. Books, language, the ability to communicate and transfer ideas from one individual to another, was utterly fascinating to him and he loved it.
But he was never good at it.
His brother, he was good at it. He had a sharp tongue and never seemed to struggle for words. The people around him were the same way, they never fought with words the way he did, struggled against the confines of language.
He wanted to express with his hands, with his mouth, with his eyes, with every part of hm. He wanted to be a living transference of ideas but he could never get the words right, or the movements correct or...or anything.
People were so hard, communication with them even harder. He wanted to, he did, but even over the internet, his medium of choice, he still struggled to coney ideas that he wanted to put out there.
But his brother listened to him when he babbled about things like social justice and fandom and life in general. A few other people did too and, sometimes, when he had enough time to sit and string the words together, he could come up with a way to actually communicate that he felt proud to call his own.
He would doubt himself as soon as he posted, of course, but he would be proud for those few minutes, pleased with hiself that he actually got the words out, even if they weren't exactly right.
no subject
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no subject
Can I hug him? :D