Alex knows better than to talk with his mouth full, so he gives Ice Bear a smile as he chews his first bite of latke, clearly pleased. He's always wanted to learn that. There's a lot of things that he's wanted to try, really. He only lacks the confidence to try, but with a teacher, the idea isn't so intimidating.
Good food and people to eat it with are a comfort. His parents do their best, especially during the holidays; their best doesn't mean as many regular dinners together as any of them would like. Hanukkah in particular is always hit or miss, depending on where it falls in the year. Getting to sit with someone for a late dinner with breakfast food is a lovely substitute for what he's missing out on.
Or at least, it is until Ice Bear points his paw at Alex and calls him out. A million defensive statements rise up in him, instantly. He's only a kid, so of course his first reaction is to say it's not his fault. It isn't, is it? Alex doesn't know how most people would react to his powers, except for a few who've seen him and promptly been freaked out. The only people who accept him are his parents. Nobody else can deal with the inherent mindscrew of what he does or the implications or either magic or something else in a very grounded, non-magical time and place. There's safety in sticking to his room, to his dad's lab, to places that are familiar and quiet.
But he could do a lot more good if he got over his nervousness around people. That's not up for debate. He turns to his food, staring at it and fiddling with his fork, before speaking to Marie.
"Sometimes I have to be isolated. I get headaches, I get tired, I've even passed out sometimes. It's not all on purpose." Some of it is, but... it's not all his fault. He's not a bad kid. Is he? He glances over at Marie as if seeking answers.
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Good food and people to eat it with are a comfort. His parents do their best, especially during the holidays; their best doesn't mean as many regular dinners together as any of them would like. Hanukkah in particular is always hit or miss, depending on where it falls in the year. Getting to sit with someone for a late dinner with breakfast food is a lovely substitute for what he's missing out on.
Or at least, it is until Ice Bear points his paw at Alex and calls him out. A million defensive statements rise up in him, instantly. He's only a kid, so of course his first reaction is to say it's not his fault. It isn't, is it? Alex doesn't know how most people would react to his powers, except for a few who've seen him and promptly been freaked out. The only people who accept him are his parents. Nobody else can deal with the inherent mindscrew of what he does or the implications or either magic or something else in a very grounded, non-magical time and place. There's safety in sticking to his room, to his dad's lab, to places that are familiar and quiet.
But he could do a lot more good if he got over his nervousness around people. That's not up for debate. He turns to his food, staring at it and fiddling with his fork, before speaking to Marie.
"Sometimes I have to be isolated. I get headaches, I get tired, I've even passed out sometimes. It's not all on purpose." Some of it is, but... it's not all his fault. He's not a bad kid. Is he? He glances over at Marie as if seeking answers.