[He's gotten this question before, or something close enough to it. And he always deflects: she didn't do anything to me.
It's always been a conscious lie. What Gladion means is: that's not as important as the rest of it. And what he means by that is: none of your business. And on some level, he knows what he's doing, and knows it's not the best choice, and holds to it stubbornly because it feels wrong to change course anyways. He just can't. He won't. Unless he has to. Unless—unless you know the same things he knows, about how it's wrong and embarrassing but practical and correct, and you have to justify it and make up for it. Unless you can speak the same language of shame his own mind does.
Gladion huffs. It's a boneless laugh, but not an acidic one.] I know. [He knows what Rindo doesn't mean to imply, the same way Rindo knows what he doesn't mean to imply.] Yeah. I can try, I don't know how much sense it'll make. She always...
[...]
There was something wrong with her for years, but she mostly showed it in small ways. It's hard to explain.
[He's relaxed. It's a weird sort of relaxation, but he is relaxed. It is easier when their eyes don't meet.]
She treated us like dolls. Like...she was obsessed with appearances. [As he said.] And part of that was, she couldn't see us doing anything that wasn't her decision. Lillie and I—we didn't get exactly the same treatment, but that was pretty much the same between us. Sometimes she showed it in different ways. And she was sort of the same way with anyone else who reflected on her, and the Foundation as a whole. And the house. But, you know, rooms don't complain when you redecorate them. And employees go home at the end of the day. She couldn't go through their belongings, or tell them what to wear off the clock.
[The clothes. There's always this unique frustration attached to that whole thing. He knows how important it was. He knows how much it hurt Lillie. He knows how he reacted to it. But it always sounds more frivolous out loud than it does in his head.
Ugh.]
Also, she changed over time. She gradually got worse, but she'd also go back and forth. If she was distracted, or uninterested, she wouldn't pay as much attention. But then once she did notice something that wasn't right, she'd come back with a vengeance. So it was always kind of a balancing act, trying to catch a break when you could but not doing anything that would count against you later. Especially out of the house. Because most people on Aether Paradise didn't actually know how she was, so things would get back to her, and even if they were fine she'd still...
[Waves his hand a bit. That got away from him, actually, let's pivot.]
That was the thing, overall. She could just make up a reason to be frustrated. She could look at something she would have decided, but get mad about it because she hadn't been there to decide on it. So there was never really a foolproof way to keep her happy. Just going along with what she wanted from moment to moment.
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timeasmymeasure
cw parental emotional abuse
Date: 2023-08-12 04:52 pm (UTC)It's always been a conscious lie. What Gladion means is: that's not as important as the rest of it. And what he means by that is: none of your business. And on some level, he knows what he's doing, and knows it's not the best choice, and holds to it stubbornly because it feels wrong to change course anyways. He just can't. He won't. Unless he has to. Unless—unless you know the same things he knows, about how it's wrong and embarrassing but practical and correct, and you have to justify it and make up for it. Unless you can speak the same language of shame his own mind does.
Gladion huffs. It's a boneless laugh, but not an acidic one.] I know. [He knows what Rindo doesn't mean to imply, the same way Rindo knows what he doesn't mean to imply.] Yeah. I can try, I don't know how much sense it'll make. She always...
[...]
There was something wrong with her for years, but she mostly showed it in small ways. It's hard to explain.
[He's relaxed. It's a weird sort of relaxation, but he is relaxed. It is easier when their eyes don't meet.]
She treated us like dolls. Like...she was obsessed with appearances. [As he said.] And part of that was, she couldn't see us doing anything that wasn't her decision. Lillie and I—we didn't get exactly the same treatment, but that was pretty much the same between us. Sometimes she showed it in different ways. And she was sort of the same way with anyone else who reflected on her, and the Foundation as a whole. And the house. But, you know, rooms don't complain when you redecorate them. And employees go home at the end of the day. She couldn't go through their belongings, or tell them what to wear off the clock.
[The clothes. There's always this unique frustration attached to that whole thing. He knows how important it was. He knows how much it hurt Lillie. He knows how he reacted to it. But it always sounds more frivolous out loud than it does in his head.
Ugh.]
Also, she changed over time. She gradually got worse, but she'd also go back and forth. If she was distracted, or uninterested, she wouldn't pay as much attention. But then once she did notice something that wasn't right, she'd come back with a vengeance. So it was always kind of a balancing act, trying to catch a break when you could but not doing anything that would count against you later. Especially out of the house. Because most people on Aether Paradise didn't actually know how she was, so things would get back to her, and even if they were fine she'd still...
[Waves his hand a bit. That got away from him, actually, let's pivot.]
That was the thing, overall. She could just make up a reason to be frustrated. She could look at something she would have decided, but get mad about it because she hadn't been there to decide on it. So there was never really a foolproof way to keep her happy. Just going along with what she wanted from moment to moment.