Manual bump

Gregory never faced a problem like this, admittedly. The Yolv were often more accepting, though in a way that was just as frigid as his people were stereotyped to be. It made changing -- even if it was only socially -- easy for him, and easy for others like him, but rarely did he take into account cultural differences in regards to these things. But, he knew rambling about it wouldn't help, he realized as he returned to Gumi.

"There is little you can do to change the minds of those who act cruelly." Gregory spoke in a tender voice. He set a cup of green tea before Gumi. "It is a sad fact, but... maybe one day, you will find yourself at peace, and with those who will accept you and fight for you, though I will not deny your feelings are justified. Here. Drink your tea."

"..That all said, you must remember to keep true to yourself. Do not stoop to the level of fools." he then added pensively, "It remains depressing, sure, and I am terribly sorry that this has happened to you, but... you just have to continue to be who you are. The you who is kind and loud and loves to talk to people. That is the only way to go about this. Never hide what is good about you for the foolish comfort of others."

"It is difficult to feed everyone at the temple. The government may be quick to serve us as we serve them, but the roads are hard to traverse in this cold season. Why, I just lost a toe a month ago, even, trying to get everything past the gates..."

Gregory trailed off. After a long time, he sighed. "I'm a bit stressed having to deal with everything is all. It's not like it is a small group I am looking after... Bah. Worry not."

Veritas looked up from the small caouldron-like pot from which he carried. The lid clinked with every step he paced around the area, as he usually did when he was doing proper thinkin'. But he gave a bright smile to Gregory and set the pot down on a nearby table. Taking a deep breath in and out, his smile only grew wider and wider in an attempt to comfort the young man through the rough times. 

"well look addit this way then eh? Even if  ya tell me not ta worry then I'm gonna worry anyhow. SO!" He guided the young man to a seat by the pot and lifted the lid, allowing the warm homey smell of the stew to waft out. Pulling a silver spoon from his breast pocket and handing it to Gregory "Yer gonna eat this, not all o it cause that might hurt ya. Yer gonna get warm food in ya AND yer gonna get some well needed sleep. People can live without their papa bird fer one day. So start takin care of yerself

----------

Veritas sat alone at the steps leading up to the local church, he was doing nothing in particular really. Besides the fact he was doing NOTHING. Usually considered to have boundless energy, but instead he just sits alone. Staring blankly off into the distance muttering "I shouldn't have left em, I shoulda stayed, never come to this blasted place- but I want to see Cassida again- ugh"

“Hurricanes are just awful! I hate what they do to the areas they affect!” Nora stands by Alexander kinda awkwardly. She wasn’t the best at comforting but she wanted to try her best! “The weather can be pretty scary but Im glad we have people studying it.” She pats his head gently. “Our weather is so tame compared to what happens on other planets. How about we wish everyone some luck?” She smiles. “I’m sure we can find places to donate for disaster relief.”

——

  Nora is being bullied by some people her age because she’s a hybrid. She wishes she looked less like a monster like Parker.  

ArtisticTiger 

Using public water fountains is a mortifying experience for any adult, and only gets worse the taller you are. Still, there is no avoiding the necessity of rehydration on a morning jog. As Heron stoops to sip away at the pathetic little stream, it is impossible not to keep an ear out for conversation. There is one, drifting across from just down the path. Geez. Heron had spectated a lot of inhumanly cruel shit in his time, but there really was nothing like the brutality of teenage girls. Eventually, he gives up on his futile suckling, straightens up, wipes his mouth with a sweaty wrist. Makes an impulsive decision he already knows is a bad one, and trots up behind the group.

"...Wanna know what's pathetic." Yeah, talking to you. The possee pivot to face him—and his gargantuan proportions have them off guard for only a moment.

"Creepy old men?" One immediately fires back.

"Worse. It's kids stupid enough to believe every single thing old men tell them."

"Kids," another rolls her eyes, "we're basically adults."

"Fooled me. Picking on a hybrid—are you twelve." 

There's only a second's hesitation, where they're jointly trying to figure out if the disapproval of this random fucking guy is anything they care about. Heron is, after all, impossibly huge, and the scars up his arms make him look like he's been through some serious shit. He's scary.

"Keep dreaming, pedo." A ripple of uneasy laughter travels through the little group, and they float away.

"Did your parents ever teach you respect? Or only smallmindedness? Unbelievable."

Heron watches them leave... Except for one, of course. He exhales a sigh. The hybrid remains in front of him, with all the pathos of a sad puppy. 

"...Sorry," he mutters. he'd thought that was going to be more of an epic pwn. Or whatever the kids called it these days. He looks the girl over, and sees her bizzare eyes gleaming with tears she's trying really hard not to shed. He glances away again and—god. Empathy wracks him. He's human, okay, sue him. Plus, he actually does feel old, now, too, after that. Surely now would be an effective time to impart some Geezer's Wisdom.

"Listen," he attempts, "They're tribal animals. They come factory programed scared of anything that doesn't look like the rest of them." Heron is a bit squeamish about those uncanny features himself, to be honest—but he's better than letting it show. He knows just what it's like. It's a little bit ironic, how much he resents his current inability to think up anything a normal person would say to cheer her up. Sympathy? Go for sympathy.

"I know... similar pain." She's a social animal too, despite it all. With a social animal's brain, wired to perceive rejection as life-threatening agony. Heron really does know the sort.

"Being an aberration. People alienate you. Other people try and tell you you're special. You just feel special like a manufacturing defect is. Right." Is this helping? She's listening. There's no way this is helping—God, if he could only just explain—

"The thing is. You're not meant to be like them. You're meant to be you. The differences. The pain—feel it." He holds a fist to his chest for a moment, "That's your gift. Suffering exists to teach you. To open your eyes to the things that normal people never see..."

Okay, he just sounds insane now. Fucking this one up more and more the more words come out of his mouth. He frowns a little, just to himself.

"Thier opinions are ultimately irrelevant. Fate... has unique plans for you."

After another awkward couple of attempts to open his mouth and let something more emotionally intelligent come out, he gives up, mutters a bye, and continues his jog.

---

Heron's liable to look very miserable by himself at a bar, beating himself up for the sins of all mankind, or just his own. Alternatively, you can hit this wretched cyclist with a car, and try and have a conversation with him while you wait for an ambulance. Or else anything else you think of is cool too :)

Chiyoko looked over to the sheep named Oleander, trying to take in what they were venting to her about. She found the sheep crying, sitting on a bench and lamenting over “losing their soulmate” . Curious, and having the urge to help anyone out did Chiyoko sit down and offer to give a listening ear. 

What she expected was someone to vent about their relationship problems to her, but it got deeper than she expected. A relationship breakup, the loss of a partner who you once called a soulmate. But Chiyoko has only been a relationship she is happy with, she and her girlfriend are happy. She doesn’t know much about being in romantic relationships, and has a lot to learn. She ponders if she can use any life experience to give some comfort, perhaps some advice?

She would then remember her ex best friend.

Daigo M. Mikotoba

The one friend who burned the very university she was attending, framing Chiyokos father for the crime. Taking a life in front of Chiyoko that was a family meme bet that they adopted for the first time, all to prevent Chiyokos own life from being taken. Tearing apart Chiyokos family just to commit the crime. Sure, it was not a romantic relationship, but technically they did have to “break-up”.

Chiyoko sighed, looking to Oleander after she finished her vent. Chiyoko nodded in understanding, hoping what she said will be comforting.

“While I may not fully understand how you feel… I do apologize for what you have been through. It is… Hard to lose someone you really thought was to be by your side forever…” she started, a bit of nervousness in her voice.

“But loss is a part of life… Sometimes when you lose something, you have to deal with it… But I can tell you that this is not the end of the road. Your better than what your loss would tell you, you deserve so much better, and perhaps the future can give you something better. But to get that better thing, sometimes you must go through the hardest times.” Chiyoko continued, wanting to get the hardest part out.

“I believe what I am saying is to get through  these hard times. For once you do, you will be rewarded with better times. I am not the best at comforting of all things… I just say this from experiences. But I believe you are a person that can find strength to get through this, so you can do it.” she finished, smiling at the end as she sounds more confident at the end of her more lengthy reply.

She hoped that her words of advice could be of comfort as well. She doesn’t know, but she can only hope.

.

For NP, perhaps Chiyoko is lamenting over the traumatic experiences she has had. Not just certain incidents but most incidents as a whole, or how she has failed to save lives in the past. Or perhaps her fear of fire and how it stemmed from a certain incident involving her best friend being the criminal and she feels she just has to get over her fear but can’t seem to understand it comes from trauma. 

Cephalus looked into Chiyoko's eyes with sadness, sitting beside her. Even though the hamon user was tired, he was willing to push through to give the attorney next to him much needed comfort. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have cared. But she reminded him too much of Xenia, his wife, who also had a hatred for fire and a guilt that couldn't be quenched.

"That's cruel," he shook his head, "having to put the word 'ex' in front of the words 'best friend'. It hurts even more, having your family ripped up by her. You must have felt like the world was crumbling at your feet, no?" Cephalus stiffened, thinking of his own life.

His eyes narrowed. "And as someone who has a spouse with the same pyrophobia, I understand more than it looks like. I'll tell you this: It's okay to take things slow. Not all hurdles in life are easy to jump. It's been..." he sighed with sadness, "almost twenty years since my wife has had these issues. We're still trying to figure things out. You can't rush things like this, especially when when it's not just about fire, but also about your relationships. So take your time as needed to heal. The world will be patient."

The two took a moment to breathe. Cephalus was a little surprised, even impressed, with himself. There hadn't been many moments where he felt so compelled to speak, much less sympathetic at all.

"It's...it's also difficult to live knowing you failed to save someone," he confessed. "It's a brutal consequence for actions, but it's necessary, as well as unavoidable. I understand it may be a hard truth to swallow, but you'll never be able to save everyone. Even when you do all the right things, the tables will often turn against you. And in those cases, it's not your fault. But no matter what, you keep going for the sake of all the people you might save in the future. Sometimes in ways you don't even think - even smiling at someone can change their life."

Cephalus smiled. "You're doing well, especially for your age. Don't get discouraged. I'm sorry for what you've been through, and I don't know how to say it more genuinely. Apologies for my mild bluntness, but it's the only way I've learned to phrase my words."

"I hope to hear from you again," he rose from his seat and gave a nod to Chiyoko. "Until then, I wish you well and that things get better."

-

cephalus is trying to help his wife who has ptsd, but lives in a society where mental disorders aren't taken very seriously. he's also trying to raise his daughter, but feels very stressed by it

maybe good maybe not good, idk hope you like it ;-;

Vitya gazed softly at the boy sitting before him, his thoughts were quiet and calm. His plan was thorough and calculated, as usual. 

It took a long time to get him ‘alone,’ or at least as alone as Alistair was allowed. To others the situation seemed cruel, to Vitya, it seemed strangely relatable.

“Hello,” he said softly, sitting next to the young adult. Alistair caught his gaze, in his eyes Vitya could see the effects of harsh drugs. He had seen so many others with the same look, though this one looked somewhat less susceptible to it, he was used to it… It was interesting to the boy, though he ignored that fact, he already knew the reasons of why the latter was in such a state.

“Are you okay?” Vitya asked carefully, drawing his brows together. “I’ve seen you a few times around the house… well, maybe you didn’t notice me… but I noticed you— not that I was watching you–” He rubbed his neck with his clean hand. “I just– you seem sad… And I hear things… I wonder if they’re true — I’m sorry for them, since I know there’s little I can do for it.” Vitya dropped his eyes to the floor... he wasn’t very good at trying to ‘comfort’ people, that wasn’t his job. It was far far from his job... Still, he kept his mind off that and stayed cool.

“I wanted to tell you I understand how it feels to be imprisoned… that I know the only path of so-called freedom is a path of destruction, a dark path… It shouldn’t be that way…” Vitya scrunched his nose. “But sometimes,” he sighed, “we aren’t given the choice to take that path.”

The teen’s other gloved hand brought up his glasses as he patted Alistair gently on the back. “You’re not alone.” He finished, with a small light in his eyes. Maybe he really did mean what he had said. “Try to remember that… until then, remain strong.” The scientist stood, and let his hands carefully fall to his sides. “Farewell,” he made his hopeful final valediction.

As Vitya left a smile curled in his mind. Another job as good as done... Only Vitya knew of the small dose of clostridium baratii he had left in the wet tears of the other boy’s clothes. Only he knew that it would no doubt eventually find its way to the infamous Ren. Where by then he would be gone --- If he didn’t get caught on his way out, his mark would be dead in a day’s time or more.

--

NP: Vitya can have harsh emotions if he is restricted - his biggest desire is freedom, though he knows he'll never have it. He also dislikes failure... but can move past it in time. However, the initial feelings of "guilt" are quite powerful. Read more in his bio!