[ he really is an odd boy - boy, Zara calls him, because despite the fact that Cole can't be much younger than himself, there's something childlike about him, to an even more extreme extent than Mary. It would fall to him to take care of people who couldn't take care of themselves, of course, even in this situation; he doesn't mind particularly, but he does find it amusing. Were Nesso still here, he'd surely laugh at his continual babysitting.
However, it's more than just being childlike. There's something off about Cole. He doesn't know the whole story, but it's desperately obvious that he's not all he appears - the way he acts, speaks, the unexplained disappearances, the way he knows things, most of all. Zara's asked about it, no doubt, but Cole's frustratingly difficult to comprehend.
For now, he'll concentrate on the little things - for example, the state of his clothes. And hygiene. But before Zara can even open his mouth to comment on the greasiness of his hair, he's beaten to the punch. There's a twinge of something on his face - guilt, protectiveness, possessiveness, maybe even fear - but he replaces it with a rather stony gazee. ]
... What the young lady thinks is certainly no business of yours, Cole. Nor what I'm thinking. [ he sounds strict, but there's an obvious edge of discomfort there, too. ] How do you know?
[ In this, Cole doesn't apologize, because with certain things, he doesn't feel he should. It makes him shy, of course, since he doesn't like the hurt that comes with this at first. Cole digs around in people's darkness without meaning to, and at first, it always scares and hurts. But he knows by now that he can help, and that's enough for him to continue, even if it's gently. His voice takes on the shyer quality again, less confident as he drifts away from someone else's thoughts. ]
It's not. But it drifts in anyways, since I hear the things that hurt. I don't mean to. But I can help.
[ Which is probably the most straightforward answer that Zara has gotten out of Cole, actually. But before he can ask more, he puts the hat back on his head, hiding the greasy hair once more. He adds with a softer voice still: ]
[ just as he expected: frustratingly difficult to comprehend. Zara sighs, violet ears sagging slightly. Timid and gentle as Cole may sound, the contents of his words are still unnerving, and they put him on edge involuntarily. His relationship with Fiona -- no, rather, his own feelings about her and her situation, are not something he really wants known to others. Possibly not even to the girl herself.
Fortunately, he's far from the type to get angry; his posture merely remains stiff, and his gaze chilly. It's uncharacteristic for Zara, and clearly a result of not knowing how to react. ]
[ He shakes his head, but it's follow by a motion as he looks down where he starts to kick his legs lightly, He sounds uncertain, but it's from the reaction that Zara is having more than himself. He's trying to be careful. ]
...No. I just hear peoples' hurt. I can't read people's minds.
[ He makes a distinction there, but Zara might not exactly think of it as one, though. ]
[ the difference isn't exactly clear to Zara, and his brow furrows, not entirely pleased by that answer. Does that mean he can feel emotions, rather than read minds? It doesn't seem that way, considering that he clearly knows about Zara and Fiona - more than he should. ]
Can't you... stop?
[ he's pretty sure that this was already answered, indirectly, but it bears repeating. His issues are his own; he doesn't like to be fussed over, doesn't like to be pried into, especially not by a near-stranger. ]
[ He seems to consider that for a moment, like he's wondering if he could, but his response is an odd statement in return. ]
It can't. If it stops, then there's no purpose, no need, and compassion can rest, since all hurt has been helped, but things don't happen that way. Hurt never stops, so it's never quiet either. It always whispers, yearning to be more, so I listen.
[ he's definitely saying something, but what, he really can't tell. He's not sure whether it's more frustrating that Cole keeps talking that way or that he can't understand it. Zara liked to consider himself intelligent, but clearly, he's not quite intelligent enough to puzzle out these riddles.
Still, he thinks he understands one part. Dismissively, he shake his head. ]
I don't need your help. I can deal with it all on my own, I assure you.
[ The brim of the hat dips lower, a sort of shy uncertainty in the gesture. There's a pause too, like he's been reprimanded, but his voice is careful when he finally responds. ]
I know. It's always something to deal with on your own. Words to soothe as a salve, but not a stitch. That's what I am.
[ Because ultimately, Cole is rarely able to fix the problems he feels. That's something to be done one one's own. But he provides what he can to make the process either. ]
[ That's what he is? Zara's suspected he isn't human for a while, but that means... what? He's "words to soothe?" It still doesn't make much sense to him. Moreover, he's still not all that comfortable with having his thoughts read (or heard, or whatever it was), as innocuous as Cole seems to be otherwise. Pursing his lips, he crosses his arms. ]
... Well, I suppose I'll have to believe you. Just try not to spread it around. [ a small, defeated sigh. ] Now, what was I going to say...
[ there was definitely a reason he came in here, and it wasn't just to take the dishes out. He stares at Cole for a moment or two, then, suddenly remembering, reaches out a hand to grasp the brim of Cole's hat. ]
[ Or at least, if anything slips out, no one is likely to know what it refers to. Cole wouldn't even know. Pieces of people come to him, and he says what he feels, since it's the only way to let it out. Otherwise it sits like a knot in his chest, tense and tight.
Cole is surprised when Zara grabs his hat, though, and he flinches like Zara had touched him instead. But, no, he's just not used to people enacting any kind of contact with him at all. He's an odd young man and very skittish, but he doesn't look fearful as he looks up to Zara. ]
[ once he's certain Cole isn't going to get angry at him, he doesn't just touch the hat - he lifts it right back off of his head, holding it delicately between two fingers. It's not really something he wants to touch more than he has to, honestly. ]
Yes. It's absolutely filthy, [ responds Zara primly without missing a beat, ] as is the rest of you. I'm perfectly happy to let you live here, but there's are certain standards I'd like to uphold on the property, so forgive my rudness - when is the last time you bathed or washed your clothes?
[ despite his apology, he doesn't sound all that apologetic... sorry, Cole. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action;
However, it's more than just being childlike. There's something off about Cole. He doesn't know the whole story, but it's desperately obvious that he's not all he appears - the way he acts, speaks, the unexplained disappearances, the way he knows things, most of all. Zara's asked about it, no doubt, but Cole's frustratingly difficult to comprehend.
For now, he'll concentrate on the little things - for example, the state of his clothes. And hygiene. But before Zara can even open his mouth to comment on the greasiness of his hair, he's beaten to the punch. There's a twinge of something on his face - guilt, protectiveness, possessiveness, maybe even fear - but he replaces it with a rather stony gazee. ]
... What the young lady thinks is certainly no business of yours, Cole. Nor what I'm thinking. [ he sounds strict, but there's an obvious edge of discomfort there, too. ] How do you know?
no subject
It's not. But it drifts in anyways, since I hear the things that hurt. I don't mean to. But I can help.
[ Which is probably the most straightforward answer that Zara has gotten out of Cole, actually. But before he can ask more, he puts the hat back on his head, hiding the greasy hair once more. He adds with a softer voice still: ]
Her hurt touches yours. That's how.
no subject
Fortunately, he's far from the type to get angry; his posture merely remains stiff, and his gaze chilly. It's uncharacteristic for Zara, and clearly a result of not knowing how to react. ]
You "hear" them? Are you a mind-reader?
no subject
...No. I just hear peoples' hurt. I can't read people's minds.
[ He makes a distinction there, but Zara might not exactly think of it as one, though. ]
no subject
Can't you... stop?
[ he's pretty sure that this was already answered, indirectly, but it bears repeating. His issues are his own; he doesn't like to be fussed over, doesn't like to be pried into, especially not by a near-stranger. ]
no subject
It can't. If it stops, then there's no purpose, no need, and compassion can rest, since all hurt has been helped, but things don't happen that way. Hurt never stops, so it's never quiet either. It always whispers, yearning to be more, so I listen.
no subject
Still, he thinks he understands one part. Dismissively, he shake his head. ]
I don't need your help. I can deal with it all on my own, I assure you.
no subject
I know. It's always something to deal with on your own. Words to soothe as a salve, but not a stitch. That's what I am.
[ Because ultimately, Cole is rarely able to fix the problems he feels. That's something to be done one one's own. But he provides what he can to make the process either. ]
no subject
... Well, I suppose I'll have to believe you. Just try not to spread it around. [ a small, defeated sigh. ] Now, what was I going to say...
[ there was definitely a reason he came in here, and it wasn't just to take the dishes out. He stares at Cole for a moment or two, then, suddenly remembering, reaches out a hand to grasp the brim of Cole's hat. ]
Right. It's high time that you got cleaned up.
no subject
[ Or at least, if anything slips out, no one is likely to know what it refers to. Cole wouldn't even know. Pieces of people come to him, and he says what he feels, since it's the only way to let it out. Otherwise it sits like a knot in his chest, tense and tight.
Cole is surprised when Zara grabs his hat, though, and he flinches like Zara had touched him instead. But, no, he's just not used to people enacting any kind of contact with him at all. He's an odd young man and very skittish, but he doesn't look fearful as he looks up to Zara. ]
Is there something wrong with my hat?
[ That's the problem here, duh. ]
no subject
Yes. It's absolutely filthy, [ responds Zara primly without missing a beat, ] as is the rest of you. I'm perfectly happy to let you live here, but there's are certain standards I'd like to uphold on the property, so forgive my rudness - when is the last time you bathed or washed your clothes?
[ despite his apology, he doesn't sound all that apologetic... sorry, Cole. ]