fandomhigh | Practical Philosophy, Thursday

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Practical Philosophy, Thursday

"Last week, some of you brought up the topic of the island's influence on our perception of consequences," Ender said. "It's a topic that has been discussed by many generations of Fandom students across the years, and it's always worth revisiting."

No, no invasion could stop him from gathering by the tree on the lawn, bar a sudden rainstorm or extreme cold. The sandwiches were there again, as were the drinks. "And also, lo and behold, the island has thoughtfully brought us many lumbering conversational pieces."

Ah, dinosaurs. That took him back... all the way to his freshman year, wasn't it?

"So we might as well pick up where we left off," he said. "Dangerous animals now walk the island. How do you feel about that? Fear? Excitement? Do you still worry about what might happen with them, or no?"

A beat.

"Or talk about anything else. Conversation is always free in this class."

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"I'm already kind of used to dinosaurs being around," Norman admitted after a short pause. "Um. A little bit, anyway. They're one of the first things I noticed when I first came to the island."

It had been hard to miss the occasional dinosaur ghost mulling about.

Not much was going to surprise him this summer, perhaps.

"There was another invasion?" Ender asked, eyebrows raised.

"Not... necessarily?" Norman paused for a moment, and then offered, a little awkwardly, "I see things sometimes. That other people can't?"

Some days he was very tempted to just drop his voice into a whisper and say that one kid's line from that Bruce Willis movie.

Like, super tempted.

"Like, I can tell you the island had dragons made of jello on it once," he added. "And giant scorpions. Giant scorpions were definitely a thing that happened."

"And dinosaurs," Ender echoed, nodding. He didn't seem flummoxed in the slightest. "Is having your power... troublesome on this island?"

Norman fell silent for a moment, quietly picking apart exactly what it was on this island, really.

"No," he said, finally. "Not usually. It's led to some kind of neat stuff, actually, like seeing a dragon when I was visiting a friend's world, or conversations with people that nobody has been able to really talk to for a long time. Once you get used to the, um... variety... around here, it's not all bad."

He tapped his fingers against the water bottle for a few beats as he thought on it some more.

"It's not really the power that's the trouble," he added, finally. "For me, that's kind of like asking what it's like to have eyes, if that makes sense? It's not necessarily the power that's the problem, it's more that... maybe I relate better to the things I see that other people can't than I relate to... you know... people. People are hard."

"Did you have a lot of friends growing up?" Ender asked, tilting his head. "You can ignore that question if it's too personal, I'm just curious."

Norman bit his lip a moment, and then shrugged.

"I made one when I was eleven?"

It wasn't exactly some well-guarded secret, no. Anyone who spent three seconds with a member of his family would find out anyway, and there was still one more Parents Weekend to go before his own graduation.

Ender nodded. Thoughtfully, mostly.

"You relate to what you're familiar with," he said. "The voiceless can use a friend or two, too. I'm not sure if, in the long run, the difference is really all that important..."

"The zombies at the bar like when I visit," Norman offered. "Most people just talk at them. Conversation's hard for them to have. And there are some really nice people in the graveyard. They have a lot of stories about the kind of place this can sometimes be."

And now he was very interested in his water bottle, just kind of idly twisting the cap off, and then putting it back on again.

"There really shouldn't be much difference," he admitted, aware that he was about to meander on back into 'casually morbid conversation' territory, but figuring it was relevant anyway. "Most living people get there eventually, too."

Edited 2019-05-18 11:30 (UTC)

"They do," Ender said, his mouth curving. He reached for a bottle of water. "When I'm not teaching, I'm what's called a 'Speaker for the Dead' in my world," he said. "Though that's nothing more esoteric than travelling to places and unearthing the truths of someone's life, so they can be eulogized with full honesty. I don't have a gift nearly as grand as yours."

If he was reading what Norman was saying about his powers right.

Norman's head tilted a little to the side at that as he mulled that over, though a weird look crossed his face at the word, 'grand.' People back home had mostly come to terms with what he was, but it was still jarring to hear it referred to as anything more palatable than 'unusual.'

"I think... a lot of them would like that," he said, thoughtfully. "Most people just kind of keep on being who they are, and plenty have lived lives they're satisfied with, but if they're around, it's because they have something they feel they haven't finished."

And having the truths of their lives revealed if they weren't around wouldn't matter one way or another, would it?

"I hear, 'would you please tell...' a lot." A pause. "Along with the occasional request to make sure the stove is turned off at home or whatever."

"And do you?" Ender asked.

Norman's smile went a little crooked at that.

"Do I like that, or do I make sure the stove is turned off...?"

"Tell them," Ender said wryly, "And turn the stove off."

"I do, when I can," Norman replied. And there he went, right back to his fidgeting. "It's easier these days than it used to be. People know I'm not just... being cruel or something. Doing it for the attention."

God, the last thing he ever wanted was attention.

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Practical Philosophy, Thursday

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