"I said nothing to the effect that you should be something you're not or that you should change who you are to something different. If you're not the kind of person that's supportive, it would be disingenuous to act otherwise."
He looked skyward, his expression sly.
"But this purely fictional individual I'm speaking of in this entirely allegorical tale didn't change themselves for others. They didn't hold hands with everyone and sing happy songs. They didn't pretend that they cared about listening to them talking about their feelings, and they didn't force themselves into any social situations they didn't want to be in."
He looked at Grif with an amused expression.
"The only thing they did at first was recognize that others sometimes had traumas or hangups they didn't always understand, so they stopped saying comments that might have been construed -- whether correctly or incorrectly -- as direct abuse. Beyond that, they remained as they were, as long as it was natural for them to be that way, and if any outside forces instigated an internal change, that was process was very organic and, above all else, slow."
His smirk grew larger.
"But interestingly enough, they didn't have to change. They stayed abrasive and calculating and asocial -- but uncompromisingly loyal and reliable -- and oddly enough, they found that they didn't need to be anything else to still find themselves in the good graces of their teammates. They were regarded with fondness anyway -- and there were still no expectations for them to change, to be anything other than what they were."
He hadn't needed to be anyone else and had still found himself loved.
"For a sentient that seemingly has a greater understanding of the emotional range of other sentients than myself, you're blind to the obvious: while they may sometimes misinterpret your...prodding to be more hostile than intended, everyone has a fairly accurate assessment of you. You're a lazy, often selfish, and frequently abrasive individual -- they simply don't care. That understanding of you and their fondness aren't necessarily mutually exclusive."
no subject
He looked skyward, his expression sly.
"But this purely fictional individual I'm speaking of in this entirely allegorical tale didn't change themselves for others. They didn't hold hands with everyone and sing happy songs. They didn't pretend that they cared about listening to them talking about their feelings, and they didn't force themselves into any social situations they didn't want to be in."
He looked at Grif with an amused expression.
"The only thing they did at first was recognize that others sometimes had traumas or hangups they didn't always understand, so they stopped saying comments that might have been construed -- whether correctly or incorrectly -- as direct abuse. Beyond that, they remained as they were, as long as it was natural for them to be that way, and if any outside forces instigated an internal change, that was process was very organic and, above all else, slow."
His smirk grew larger.
"But interestingly enough, they didn't have to change. They stayed abrasive and calculating and asocial -- but uncompromisingly loyal and reliable -- and oddly enough, they found that they didn't need to be anything else to still find themselves in the good graces of their teammates. They were regarded with fondness anyway -- and there were still no expectations for them to change, to be anything other than what they were."
He hadn't needed to be anyone else and had still found himself loved.
"For a sentient that seemingly has a greater understanding of the emotional range of other sentients than myself, you're blind to the obvious: while they may sometimes misinterpret your...prodding to be more hostile than intended, everyone has a fairly accurate assessment of you. You're a lazy, often selfish, and frequently abrasive individual -- they simply don't care. That understanding of you and their fondness aren't necessarily mutually exclusive."