[Weakness was frowned upon in Zaun, a fact that many would take advantage of to gain something for themselves. People surrounded themselves with friends, allies and family so that there was always someone watching their back during an inevitable lapse in judgment or a sign of weakness. If one didn't have those things, they were doomed to struggle or be taken advantage of or killed. The higher in the ranks within Zaun ruthless political and economic powers, the less weakness was tolerated.
Some made plays for egos or fabricated stories about one losing their grip. It was the other person's job to twist those tales on their head and prove themselves to be still perfectly capable. It turned into endless squabbling and petty disputes that lost focus on the goal. Weakness was the true killer in his position, so he very often used brutal force and underhanded tactics to keep the focus on the end game and insert how much power he wielded even when others wavered; it drew them back into line, and at worst, he'd wipe them out and elevate someone who could manage the weight of responsibility.
Yet, with Jinx, force had gotten him no where. Her grief and mental illness were so deep that trying to force her out of those with forced focus or strong physical action would only make the situation worse. His tactics had changed to letting it play out but being a solid and constant presence, to build trust when others would take advantage or strike her. He had never, ever struck his daughter, rarely raised his voice and always provided a listening ear even when she was in the full depths of some mad thought or emotion. A calm in the storm.
It was a tactic he thought would work with Richard, being that calm and centering presence that went about closing off extra stimulus. It had worked before when Richard had been attacking the communicator and a few other minor instances. He expected that it would work again here, though the distant look and the stony expression that hid the turmoil beneath told him that this was a particularly bad episode. How bad could they be? He didn't know. Did it matter? Not particularly.
He was adjusting the temperature of the shower when he heard the question, turning his head to regard the younger man standing within in grip. He gave a gentle tug to that hand as he drew them both into the shower, even going so far as to pull Richard against his body if the younger man would allow it as the warm water poured over his skin.]
No one should wander alone in that darkness. [He shrugged, uncaring if the explanation was unsatisfying.] I can't go with you to wherever your mind takes you, but I can remain a point of contact to allow you to find your way out again. If you ever wish to talk about it, I will be an ear to listen to try to understand so I can help you further. Otherwise, hopefully this is what you need.
cw: mental illness
Some made plays for egos or fabricated stories about one losing their grip. It was the other person's job to twist those tales on their head and prove themselves to be still perfectly capable. It turned into endless squabbling and petty disputes that lost focus on the goal. Weakness was the true killer in his position, so he very often used brutal force and underhanded tactics to keep the focus on the end game and insert how much power he wielded even when others wavered; it drew them back into line, and at worst, he'd wipe them out and elevate someone who could manage the weight of responsibility.
Yet, with Jinx, force had gotten him no where. Her grief and mental illness were so deep that trying to force her out of those with forced focus or strong physical action would only make the situation worse. His tactics had changed to letting it play out but being a solid and constant presence, to build trust when others would take advantage or strike her. He had never, ever struck his daughter, rarely raised his voice and always provided a listening ear even when she was in the full depths of some mad thought or emotion. A calm in the storm.
It was a tactic he thought would work with Richard, being that calm and centering presence that went about closing off extra stimulus. It had worked before when Richard had been attacking the communicator and a few other minor instances. He expected that it would work again here, though the distant look and the stony expression that hid the turmoil beneath told him that this was a particularly bad episode. How bad could they be? He didn't know. Did it matter? Not particularly.
He was adjusting the temperature of the shower when he heard the question, turning his head to regard the younger man standing within in grip. He gave a gentle tug to that hand as he drew them both into the shower, even going so far as to pull Richard against his body if the younger man would allow it as the warm water poured over his skin.]
No one should wander alone in that darkness. [He shrugged, uncaring if the explanation was unsatisfying.] I can't go with you to wherever your mind takes you, but I can remain a point of contact to allow you to find your way out again. If you ever wish to talk about it, I will be an ear to listen to try to understand so I can help you further. Otherwise, hopefully this is what you need.