(no subject)

[captaincocksure]

[Jim moves up to the podium like a man who wears authority well: confident strides, straight back, a clear mission. For a moment it might seem the piazza is in for some rousing speech or recruiting presentation.

But when he turns to face the assembled, there's a seriousness to his expression. A slight drooping of those squared shoulders, as if burdened.]

How do you move on from loss?

Comments

[polyglot]

Time.

( sorry for your loss, bro. no, really. she's sorry. sorry enough to actually speak gently to him, for once. )

[silette]

You stop asking shit like that. You realize that even posing the question is constructing one more layer of being unable to cope between you and the awful truth, and that you've only done it because you think you were supposed to. You give into the grief and you come out of it later. Or you don't.

[ "300% more intense than necessary": quite possibly the subtitle of Claire DeWitt's future memoirs. Other possible subtitles include "probably understandable if you choose not to take any advice from this walking wreck of a human being" and "please stop chain smoking." ]

[joined]

It varies, but most of the time people don't necessarily move on so much as they learn to cope with whatever that absence happens to be. Not moving on and wanting to hold onto what you've lost, especially if it means a great deal to you, is perfectly normal as long as you're not letting that loss stop you from living your life.

[meanwhileback]

Learn to stop giving so many fucks. Like, seriously. You need those fucks. Quit giving them away. Make them bitches pay for your fucks.

[peratic]

You don't. Those are now fixed points in whoever is left behind. They learn to cope the same way they learn to cope with missing limbs and chronic pain. Like how water learns to go around new stones in a river.

[ You, whoever, they. Her tone is empathetic, anyway, a little quieter than usual. ]

Healing is a natural thing, if that helps. It happens of its own accord, as long as it isn't disrupted.

[sem_tor]

[ He stands at perfect attention, expression as stoic as ever. Or is it? If you squint very hard - know him well enough - you can detect the faintest hint of sadness. ]

Continuing your routine... and work.

[ His voice doesn't waver. It is, unfortunately, the best advice a Vulcan can give. ]

[moralabsolutism]

You don't. Must move on. Or break down.

[Rorschach's slightly muffled voice sounds completely detached. He'd lost everything at one point or another. His partner, his identity, even the streets he had once roamed to fight crime were now just rubble on the ground. What he'd learned from it all amounted to nothing. Life merely took and took until there was nothing left.]

[stickseller]

(Howard waits until Jim's off the stage to find him, mostly because his answer, while a traditional one, is one filled with taboo, and he has a public face to keep on. Jim reminds him of himself. The comfort on the stage, in his movements, at least, that was until he question was asked.

And that's why he's willing to be honest. Partially, at least.)

Alcohol.