sharp_as_knives: (office hours)
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At least one student had requested they speak, and after the past few weeks, Hannibal wondered if there might be more as well.

So, he was in his office, soothing classical music playing and spiced tea brewing, reading his tablet and waiting.


[OOC: Waiting for one, but open to others, though not at the same time! Eleanor's thread is content-NFB, please, and also TRIGGER WARNING for discussion of suicide.]

Date: 2014-04-04 10:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com
"But did she never --" Eleanor paused, trying to see the world from that mother's eyes instead of being furious on Celia's behalf. "So could someone really think she was doing her child a favor? Wouldn't she ... would it never occur to her that ..."

If Mother were here, she would lecture Eleanor about how imprecisely she was speaking, with all of her fragments tossed about.

Of course, if Mother were here, Eleanor would have much bigger problems than her terrible speech pattersn.

"That that child would blame herself," she said, finally. "Assume she was unloved, abandoned, that she was such a burden that her mother would rather die than raise her."

Date: 2014-04-05 01:34 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com
Eleanor frowned, her body language stiffening ever so slightly. She set the cup of tea down again and aimed her eyes directly at her professor.

"You're saying, since my mother was cruel, I might be predisposed to see someone else's uncharitably," she said darkly.

Date: 2014-04-05 02:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nobloodymessiah.livejournal.com
Eleanor had to give that a few seconds of thought before shaking her head.

"I don't doubt it could happen," she said. "But I'm angry at this woman not because of Mother, but for what she did to Ce -- ... to my friend. I held her as she cried, thinking she was unloved, that she caused her mother to discard her own life. And I'm angry because ..."

She was struggling, now, with the words to explain the odd miasma of feelings in her stomach.

"My mother didn't love me," she said, forcefully. "I know that. I've accepted it. It doesn't hurt me." A convenient lie. "This other girl's mother isn't some monster. She doesn't have that excuse. She's supposed to love her and ..."

It was coming out tangled, no matter what words she used.

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