![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Video Post:
June 18th, 2014 21:21![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
solo_patria[Is it just Enjolras or does he always manage to post when things are especially depressing? Either way, this is another of those times, as evidenced by the fact that he looks tired, as though he's not slept well for at least a few days, and the serious, slightly somber expression on his face that seems to go with the circles under his rather bloodshot eyes.]
I've learned a good deal of things since I woke up here, and I will not deny that many of them have been helpful, and, I hope, have transformed me for the better, but there is one truth that I've learned that will never be easy, and that I suspect I'll somehow always struggle with.
[He's sighing actually, as he looks at the console now, and, for once, he actually looks his age, if not a little older than his 26 years on Earth.]
One cannot control who comes here, and who leaves this island in their turn, unfortunate as that is. It is a truth I've hated a long time, and will continue hating now.
[First Grantaire, and then, slowly, the others had started vanishing in their turn. Gavroche, Jean Prouvaire, Marius, with whom he'd managed to start something that may point to friendship in its time, Courfeyrac, a loss that still hurts like a dagger, Eponine, and then Bossuet. To say the least, that list is overwhelming, and its recent growth is rather frightening, particularly given the sense of insecurity it carries. And it is not fair, though that's an argument that never solved anyone's problems and he refuses to utter the words, and instead, continues looking at the console, his gaze steady, if certainly very sad.]
The only thing one can control, so far as I have discovered, is the way that he responds to losses of that sort. So. What is it anyone seeing this does as they lose a treasured friend or a loved one? How does anyone withstand that pain? And how, most of all, how, does one approach being one of the last, or perhaps, in the case of you who are not so lucky as I've been, being the only person from your world?
[There's something shifting in his eyes, and for a moment, Enjolras looks rather lost, and certainly unsure, as another, much heavier sigh escapes him now, and his next words are rather quiet and desperately searching, in their way.]
...I miss them...
I've learned a good deal of things since I woke up here, and I will not deny that many of them have been helpful, and, I hope, have transformed me for the better, but there is one truth that I've learned that will never be easy, and that I suspect I'll somehow always struggle with.
[He's sighing actually, as he looks at the console now, and, for once, he actually looks his age, if not a little older than his 26 years on Earth.]
One cannot control who comes here, and who leaves this island in their turn, unfortunate as that is. It is a truth I've hated a long time, and will continue hating now.
[First Grantaire, and then, slowly, the others had started vanishing in their turn. Gavroche, Jean Prouvaire, Marius, with whom he'd managed to start something that may point to friendship in its time, Courfeyrac, a loss that still hurts like a dagger, Eponine, and then Bossuet. To say the least, that list is overwhelming, and its recent growth is rather frightening, particularly given the sense of insecurity it carries. And it is not fair, though that's an argument that never solved anyone's problems and he refuses to utter the words, and instead, continues looking at the console, his gaze steady, if certainly very sad.]
The only thing one can control, so far as I have discovered, is the way that he responds to losses of that sort. So. What is it anyone seeing this does as they lose a treasured friend or a loved one? How does anyone withstand that pain? And how, most of all, how, does one approach being one of the last, or perhaps, in the case of you who are not so lucky as I've been, being the only person from your world?
[There's something shifting in his eyes, and for a moment, Enjolras looks rather lost, and certainly unsure, as another, much heavier sigh escapes him now, and his next words are rather quiet and desperately searching, in their way.]
...I miss them...
