Because some of us don't go around spouting off every tragedy that's occurred to us.
[He's heard enough that he doesn't doubt her stories. He just doesn't think they mean she's suffered more greatly than people here. She's not going to be convinced, though, so he makes the conversation private.]
But fine. I'm a mage, which means I was torn from my family as a child when my magic decided to make itself known, and locked in a tower along with other mages. I tried to escape, and was beaten. I fell in love, and that love was taken away and transferred to another tower because mages aren't allowed that. I escaped more times and was beaten each time I was caught and finally stuck in a cell, alone, in the dungeon, for a year. My final escape I was caught again, and had the choice between death right then and there, or joining a group that had a delayed death sentence, the Wardens, all because I wanted to be free. Clearly I chose the latter.
[He takes a breath.]
But that wasn't enough for those who had kept capturing me and hauling me back. They harassed me constantly, attempted to kill me, and when I killed them in defense I lost what friends I'd found in the Wardens because I had to flee. So I found my first love again, and because there was still resentment about me being free and a mage, he was stripped of all he was, made Tranquil, empty and hollow, in an attempt to lure me to my death. My story continues from there, and it's all death and loss. It's got the dictator who wanted my kind slaughtered because we're not all meek sheep, it has several of my friends being killed simply because they were trying to rescue mages, and it has me losing other friends because I fought back, and harder than I should have.
For hundreds upon hundreds of years my people have been caged, and it's only recently that we're out here, in the world, getting the chance to understand what freedom is and can be. I've known bad. I've known devastatingly bad. Do I get respect now, or is my metaphorical cock not large enough yet?
Private
[He's heard enough that he doesn't doubt her stories. He just doesn't think they mean she's suffered more greatly than people here. She's not going to be convinced, though, so he makes the conversation private.]
But fine. I'm a mage, which means I was torn from my family as a child when my magic decided to make itself known, and locked in a tower along with other mages. I tried to escape, and was beaten. I fell in love, and that love was taken away and transferred to another tower because mages aren't allowed that. I escaped more times and was beaten each time I was caught and finally stuck in a cell, alone, in the dungeon, for a year. My final escape I was caught again, and had the choice between death right then and there, or joining a group that had a delayed death sentence, the Wardens, all because I wanted to be free. Clearly I chose the latter.
[He takes a breath.]
But that wasn't enough for those who had kept capturing me and hauling me back. They harassed me constantly, attempted to kill me, and when I killed them in defense I lost what friends I'd found in the Wardens because I had to flee. So I found my first love again, and because there was still resentment about me being free and a mage, he was stripped of all he was, made Tranquil, empty and hollow, in an attempt to lure me to my death. My story continues from there, and it's all death and loss. It's got the dictator who wanted my kind slaughtered because we're not all meek sheep, it has several of my friends being killed simply because they were trying to rescue mages, and it has me losing other friends because I fought back, and harder than I should have.
For hundreds upon hundreds of years my people have been caged, and it's only recently that we're out here, in the world, getting the chance to understand what freedom is and can be. I've known bad. I've known devastatingly bad. Do I get respect now, or is my metaphorical cock not large enough yet?