[It seems baffling that Malcolm might have gone this long without anyone telling him so before now. Jedao can't know how much he's tried. Neither possibility is wildly encouraging, really.]
You might also be unwilling. You might have told me it's an unfair demand.
That's three possibilities and if you don't know which describes me, you'll also never find out if you don't ask. But maybe you don't care to know. Maybe this is a bridge too far and you don't think it's worth it anymore and that's why there's no point. You signed up to help inmates, not socially inept wardens who can't shut up.
You informed me what you want and “I don’t know if there’s a point” isn’t a question, either. And I wanted to know why you wondered that because I thought we were friends. Last time you told me I did a problem, I fixed it and didn’t do it again. That wasn’t an answer?
[Jedao bites his own tongue, hard, tastes bitter, metallic, oily ichor. Exactly the kind of petty bullshit he didn't want to argue about, that gave him reservations about bothering to ask at all. And Malcolm so wide-eyed and wounded like it was so unfair of Jedao to even consider, lasting all of twenty seconds. Jedao wants to bite someone. Someone else. He swallows his own not-blood in a quick, convulsive gulp.]
So I've informed you. Is that too high-handed for you to bother? I want you to be more careful because you think that's worth doing, not because I asked you to. Do it or don't, Malcolm.
[He takes a deep, weary breath.]
I'm angry and tired and I need to not be having this conversation anymore.
[He can feel himself holding back from being deeply, irrevocably cruel by a thread. He doesn't want to do it, except for the venom-bitter parts of him that absolutely do want to.]
[There isn't a kind answer to that question. But Malcolm asked.]
Every time you've been a careless, thoughtless asshole for the last two years, obviously. It's more than a pattern. It's the history of your whole time here.
You're an adult and a warden and you are desperately invested in being good at brains even though you know you're terrible at understanding people, which suggests that if you were both capable of and willing to paying attention, you ought to have figured it out by now without me pointing things out.
But better trying than not trying. I should have kept my pessimist trap shut. I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for failing you.
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[It seems baffling that Malcolm might have gone this long without anyone telling him so before now. Jedao can't know how much he's tried. Neither possibility is wildly encouraging, really.]
You might also be unwilling. You might have told me it's an unfair demand.
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There is some overlap between the two, but only if I'm actually effective.
I did ask, you'll notice.
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So I've informed you. Is that too high-handed for you to bother? I want you to be more careful because you think that's worth doing, not because I asked you to. Do it or don't, Malcolm.
[He takes a deep, weary breath.]
I'm angry and tired and I need to not be having this conversation anymore.
[He can feel himself holding back from being deeply, irrevocably cruel by a thread. He doesn't want to do it, except for the venom-bitter parts of him that absolutely do want to.]
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Every time you've been a careless, thoughtless asshole for the last two years, obviously. It's more than a pattern. It's the history of your whole time here.
You're an adult and a warden and you are desperately invested in being good at brains even though you know you're terrible at understanding people, which suggests that if you were both capable of and willing to paying attention, you ought to have figured it out by now without me pointing things out.
But better trying than not trying. I should have kept my pessimist trap shut. I'm sorry for hurting you and I'm sorry for failing you.
Now please fuck off.
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