Re: log; misha and adrian
"I ain't more human than folks. How can anyone be more human than humans, honey? Humans, they're flawed, and their flaws are beautiful. Part of what makes humans what they are, it's their flaws." He shook his head. "I don't do this always. I ain't full grown yet, so I don't got official charges of my own," he said, glancing on over toward where the smells were coming from. Eulalia. "She take you in after your momma died?" It was guessing, and, Misha, he looked on back from the kitchen to the boy sharing the windowseat with him.
"You do that," he said 'bout Adrian being easier on himself. He, Misha, he didn't realize the gestures were too big for Adrian. He just hadn't spent 'nough time with Adrian to know. "I ain't meant to have things to forgive myself for," he said, which wasn't an answer, not precisely. But, like this, distant and unearthly, it was true. This version of the boy, the one that glowed warm, he wasn't going to do nothing that required forgiveness. There was a disconnect there, 'tween this and who he was down on earth and real human-like.
"I'm sorry she was unkind. Sometimes, faithful folks get it wrong," Misha said. He didn't defend Heaven any, and he didn't defending believing or faith. It would be a big and long topic, explaining how faith created Heaven, and not the other way 'round, and that wasn't real important in this here bubble. "I'm glad you got somewhere better than here," he added. He was sure the woman, Eulalia, had herself the best of intentions, but that didn't mean she hadn't hurt Adrian plenty bad.
"Does it feel out of control any?" he asked 'bout whatever the dangerous thing was that Adrian felt. That was what most concerned Misha. He didn't want to put Adrian back where he do something wrong, and where he'd then feel guilty 'bout that wrong thing. "Being angry's fine, and it's normal, long as you ain't feeling inclined to do anything with it. Are you?" he asked, trusting Adrian to tell him the truth of it. He knew the boy next to him felt real angry. He could feel it in waves, the anger, and it was bitter bile and dark, but Misha knew folks felt angry sometimes and nothing bad came of it. And, Adrian, him answering 'bout the Obscurus, it helped Misha understand some. "If you try to use your magic, if it's fixed some, cold the Obscurus maybe go away?" he asked, wanting to understand more what it was being dealt with.
He shook his head 'bout the cigarette. "I don't mind. Damian, he smokes constant," he said, a fond smile breaking through all that glow and distance. It was a real small thing of a smile, barely a seed, but it was there all the same.