[ Callisto climbs out of his pocket, determined to investigate Randel. Bruce names them, he picks the cats that don't have anyone else, even if they've been managing on the streets. They manage better with him around. ]
[ It's a good story. He'd like to keep telling himself. ]
[ This kitten is very small, so he takes off his glove. The hand beneath is a ruin, scarred across the back with the entire palm and wrist covered in scarring. Nevertheless, the touch is gentle, careful, and the kitten rubs against his hand. ]
[ He doesn't know how to start with that prompt, because the war was...
It was all encompassing. So he tries to start at the beginning, as early as he can think.]
My father was a doctor.
His family had originally been from the Republic. The Empire's enemy. When people found out, he had his license taken away and he was forced to go to District Zero to practice medicine.
[ He pauses, because this is too far back, and he's not sure what the man wants to know. He tries again.]
I was a part of the 901st Anti Tank Troop.
[ No, that doesn't tell much of anything either. Everything requires so much context, and he's not very good at talking about things that are this abstract to him. He can talk about the war with a focus, what it does to people, what he remembers, every scar and how it came to be. But the whole thing is just... too big for him. ]
[ His father was a doctor too. Do no harm. And he'd raised a fist for his family. Bruce raised both, later on, and never lowered them. ]
What did you do?
[ His voice is not gentle, this is not a kind question. It is even, drawing out something in a sequence, making a list of the facts. He was in the 901st Anti Tank Troop. Facing something bigger and more monstrous than himself. ]
[ And he makes no apologies, gives no excuses, frames it as exactly what it is. He'd killed people. He didn't think war was an excuse. It didn't change what happened, after all. People died and their families suffered and he got to live. ]
[ He makes no apologies. People sometimes do, even for necessary things. Some don't, some can make it out to be part of them as easily as they breathe. Some people — no matter how they hate it — shine in the thick of it. ]
Do you think it was close to being over, before you came here?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ Because sometimes they'd come and sometimes they'd go and he didn't want to confuse them if they had an owner.]
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[ It's a good story. He'd like to keep telling himself. ]
Tell me a little more about where you come from.
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What do you want to know?
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Start with the war.
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It was all encompassing. So he tries to start at the beginning, as early as he can think.]
My father was a doctor.
His family had originally been from the Republic. The Empire's enemy. When people found out, he had his license taken away and he was forced to go to District Zero to practice medicine.
[ He pauses, because this is too far back, and he's not sure what the man wants to know. He tries again.]
I was a part of the 901st Anti Tank Troop.
[ No, that doesn't tell much of anything either. Everything requires so much context, and he's not very good at talking about things that are this abstract to him. He can talk about the war with a focus, what it does to people, what he remembers, every scar and how it came to be. But the whole thing is just... too big for him. ]
What do you want to know about the war?
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What did you do?
[ His voice is not gentle, this is not a kind question. It is even, drawing out something in a sequence, making a list of the facts. He was in the 901st Anti Tank Troop. Facing something bigger and more monstrous than himself. ]
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[ And he makes no apologies, gives no excuses, frames it as exactly what it is. He'd killed people. He didn't think war was an excuse. It didn't change what happened, after all. People died and their families suffered and he got to live. ]
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[ He makes no apologies. People sometimes do, even for necessary things. Some don't, some can make it out to be part of them as easily as they breathe. Some people — no matter how they hate it — shine in the thick of it. ]
Do you think it was close to being over, before you came here?
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[ The answers are very different, after all. ]
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Or... it should have. I guess...
For some people, people like me, it still hasn't ended.
[ No, that's not right either. ]
For people still suffering, it still hasn't ended. Or it hadn't before everything was destroyed.