[ credence would be so heartbroken if he knew. will be, when graves tells him that there's no helping him. his entire existence now hinges on being something more, on feeling like he's worth something, on having something outside of mary lou's iron grip on him. something, something, something. (nothing, nothing, nothing.)
but he doesn't know right now, only knows what graves promises, what keeps him going. he still startles slightly whenever graves appears like that, a flurry of movement and magic. it's fascinating. credence drops his hands to his sides, almost at his back, hiding them away. is it weak to let mary lou do this to him or good to behave? he still doesn't know.
graves has asked him a question. credence shakes his head, chewing on his lip and glancing away. ] No... Mister Graves, I need more time. None of them are showing any of the signs you told me to look for. I don't know why any of them would have wanted to hurt the newspaperman, either. None of them... ever came into contact with him. [ but graves knows that the barebones did. that his sisters did. that his youngest sister is the right age. that he called them freaks. graves doesn't know that he specifically said it to credence, that he'd shoved the word into his face, that his sister had quietly watched from behind him.
credence thinks about this quietly, his brows furrowed. he has to say it. he has to prove he's worth the time graves is putting into him. ] I'm sorry. Please, just a little more time. I'm trying my best. I might... I might have an idea but... I just need to make sure first. Let me watch them closely one more day.
[ mary lou's soup kitchen is not open again until day after tomorrow. how is he going to watch the child? ]
[ this is the boy responsible for tina's demotion -- she had broken their laws and graves had no choice; her punishment would have been much more severe if graves hadn't interceded, and graves often wonders just what it is about credence that makes tina want to do that for him without thinking.
he thinks he understands now, even if she doesn't. credence possesses a gentle softness, a timid nature, but there's something a little more than that underneath, something graves has yet to discover. he's quick and clever, and something about him captures graves' attention in ways others rarely do.
yes, he needs more time, and graves has no choice but to grant him that. ] All right, but time is running out for us, Credence. We have to find the child.
[ take him or her away before anything massive befalls the city and triggers a war that they cannot afford to have. he doesn't comment on the fact that the barebones have indeed come into contact with shaw, and that perhaps the obscurial had been exposed to him in some measure or another -- but with insufficient evidence he cannot draw conclusions. even so, the obscurial must be found. they will teach him or her how to embrace his or her abilities, perhaps -- because graves thinks being under a woman like mary lou is a hazard in itself. no wonder an obscurial has blossomed in her care. then again, he pities anyone in her care, especially credence, whom, tina has said, is particularly hated by her and he still can't see why.
and speaking of hate -- credence startles like a skittish foal, hiding his hands for some reason or another; graves' attention is diverted momentarily, flickering to what he keeps hidden. ]
Did she hurt you again? [ he gestures briefly to him, frowning. he has to be careful -- graves cannot save everyone, but the idea of credence getting hurt doesn't sit well with him. ] Let me see.
[ credence is quick and clever and scared. he's so downtrodden by mary lou that he doesn't know how else to be. many people think he's stupid just because he's so quiet and awkward but anyone that knows him well knows far better. it's difficult being mary lou's child at the best times but it's far worse to be her most hated only son.
graves has granted him the time he needs though and he sighs in relief. but then he thinks of something: ] If I figure it out, how am I supposed to contact you right away?
[ it's a brief aside because then graves is talking about his hands and credence shakes his head instinctively before finally relenting, shoulders hunched and head down. ] It's fine, I broke the rules. I was out too late.
[ a breath and he turns his hands to show graves his palms, ragged and raw and borderline bleeding from the harsh treatment given to them. ] It's not as bad as it looks.
graves remembers this, the night before when they had met, when graves had taken him to a diner and showed him the value of magic -- and he feels a coil of guilt at the wonder in his eyes, when he lights up and looks so much younger than his years.
credence is clever, driven and hungry for knowledge; a smart young man that graves comes to learn more about as the days go by, uncovering snippets of him, getting closer. his brows furrow when he sees those palms, skin broken and welts swelling up -- it's nasty work by a nasty woman, and despite graves's intent not to get personally involved, the transgression is too great to ignore.
he doesn't answer the first question just yet, preoccupied with the wounds credence gingerly sports. they need to fix this, because it will sting and burn whenever credence touches something -- graves is more than certain that's mary lou's intent -- and he gently brushes his finger over his, taking away the worst of it with a quiet spell, skin healing over the wounds, knitting together.
it's the least he can do after getting him into trouble. ] Tell me if it still hurts.
[ credence hadn't wanted graves to think about that. he feels bad enough about worrying him and not being able to finish the job that's been set before him, even worse to make him think it was his fault when she would have found a reason to beat him anyway. at least it was just his hands last night - some days he can't sit because his legs are lines of welts, or he has to sleep on his stomach because his back is screaming.
his breath shakes slightly from just this slight contact, from the feel of magic knitting his skin back together. he tips his head far enough that graves can't see his face because he definitely doesn't want the older man to see the fact that he's almost crying just from this. but it's probably obvious. he's practically trembling in such close proximity to him and it's as though he has to gather himself before he can answer. ] It... It doesn't hurt any more. Thank you. You--didn't have to.
[ he's tense and shaky and it's so heartbreaking a thing to see that the tiniest bit of kindness can nearly bring him to he knees. ] I promise I'll work harder.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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but he doesn't know right now, only knows what graves promises, what keeps him going. he still startles slightly whenever graves appears like that, a flurry of movement and magic. it's fascinating. credence drops his hands to his sides, almost at his back, hiding them away. is it weak to let mary lou do this to him or good to behave? he still doesn't know.
graves has asked him a question. credence shakes his head, chewing on his lip and glancing away. ] No... Mister Graves, I need more time. None of them are showing any of the signs you told me to look for. I don't know why any of them would have wanted to hurt the newspaperman, either. None of them... ever came into contact with him. [ but graves knows that the barebones did. that his sisters did. that his youngest sister is the right age. that he called them freaks. graves doesn't know that he specifically said it to credence, that he'd shoved the word into his face, that his sister had quietly watched from behind him.
credence thinks about this quietly, his brows furrowed. he has to say it. he has to prove he's worth the time graves is putting into him. ] I'm sorry. Please, just a little more time. I'm trying my best. I might... I might have an idea but... I just need to make sure first. Let me watch them closely one more day.
[ mary lou's soup kitchen is not open again until day after tomorrow. how is he going to watch the child? ]
no subject
he thinks he understands now, even if she doesn't. credence possesses a gentle softness, a timid nature, but there's something a little more than that underneath, something graves has yet to discover. he's quick and clever, and something about him captures graves' attention in ways others rarely do.
yes, he needs more time, and graves has no choice but to grant him that. ] All right, but time is running out for us, Credence. We have to find the child.
[ take him or her away before anything massive befalls the city and triggers a war that they cannot afford to have. he doesn't comment on the fact that the barebones have indeed come into contact with shaw, and that perhaps the obscurial had been exposed to him in some measure or another -- but with insufficient evidence he cannot draw conclusions. even so, the obscurial must be found. they will teach him or her how to embrace his or her abilities, perhaps -- because graves thinks being under a woman like mary lou is a hazard in itself. no wonder an obscurial has blossomed in her care. then again, he pities anyone in her care, especially credence, whom, tina has said, is particularly hated by her and he still can't see why.
and speaking of hate -- credence startles like a skittish foal, hiding his hands for some reason or another; graves' attention is diverted momentarily, flickering to what he keeps hidden. ]
Did she hurt you again? [ he gestures briefly to him, frowning. he has to be careful -- graves cannot save everyone, but the idea of credence getting hurt doesn't sit well with him. ] Let me see.
no subject
graves has granted him the time he needs though and he sighs in relief. but then he thinks of something: ] If I figure it out, how am I supposed to contact you right away?
[ it's a brief aside because then graves is talking about his hands and credence shakes his head instinctively before finally relenting, shoulders hunched and head down. ] It's fine, I broke the rules. I was out too late.
[ a breath and he turns his hands to show graves his palms, ragged and raw and borderline bleeding from the harsh treatment given to them. ] It's not as bad as it looks.
no subject
graves remembers this, the night before when they had met, when graves had taken him to a diner and showed him the value of magic -- and he feels a coil of guilt at the wonder in his eyes, when he lights up and looks so much younger than his years.
credence is clever, driven and hungry for knowledge; a smart young man that graves comes to learn more about as the days go by, uncovering snippets of him, getting closer. his brows furrow when he sees those palms, skin broken and welts swelling up -- it's nasty work by a nasty woman, and despite graves's intent not to get personally involved, the transgression is too great to ignore.
he doesn't answer the first question just yet, preoccupied with the wounds credence gingerly sports. they need to fix this, because it will sting and burn whenever credence touches something -- graves is more than certain that's mary lou's intent -- and he gently brushes his finger over his, taking away the worst of it with a quiet spell, skin healing over the wounds, knitting together.
it's the least he can do after getting him into trouble. ] Tell me if it still hurts.
no subject
his breath shakes slightly from just this slight contact, from the feel of magic knitting his skin back together. he tips his head far enough that graves can't see his face because he definitely doesn't want the older man to see the fact that he's almost crying just from this. but it's probably obvious. he's practically trembling in such close proximity to him and it's as though he has to gather himself before he can answer. ] It... It doesn't hurt any more. Thank you. You--didn't have to.
[ he's tense and shaky and it's so heartbreaking a thing to see that the tiniest bit of kindness can nearly bring him to he knees. ] I promise I'll work harder.