... He'd rather not, but he owes her answers after cursing the shit out of her and then later she dies oop. So he feels guilty enough, despite wanting to hide. ]
... I'm not human. Not a spirit, or anything from the divine, either.
"Plants" where I'm from is a term... They are manmade resource power plants, capable of drawing energy to procure any necessity for human survival. Water, food, light, trees, electricity, gravity, oxygen—they can provide it all as long as they're cared for. They cannot live outside of the bubble biome and they need maintenance, so they rely on mankind.
My brother and I were a scientific miracle. Born from a plant, we were independent beings, able to walk and talk like humans. However, our powers were catastrophic. Plants come in two varieties. Ones that draw energy, which includes my brother, he could manipulate and weaponize it. The other type of plant can expel energy.
[ He closes his eyes, trying to calm down the insecure nerves, however they get to him. The area around the corner of his eyes change texture, growing short ligaments that mimic white feathers with crevices that could be mistaken for markings. They flare at the wild emotions, but this is just the flavor text i got approved to be able to do because it's biological and ultimately they don't do anything. ]
They can create a void... And it can swallow everything in its path. Planets, galaxies, can fall into this black hole.
[she says, gently. she reaches for his hands, or for any part of him, just to... well, reassure, but also show that she isn't scared of him, or repulsed. she will always reach. whatever he is, she's seen who he is. and she trusts that over anything else.]
... You are a little like the swords were. [made by and used by humans.] Do you want to know what Ylfa told me, once?
[ For a moment, those feathers flare and extend, but they shorten like they're being stifled by an unknown force. He doesn't step away, or run, he lets this happen because in the end... He just wants to be with other people.
Quiet, he simply looks at her. How is he supposed to know? What can he even expect? Is it about being a monster? It must be.
He isn't sure how much of it would help him, but any type of salvation would be preferable than the mess that is his mind. Even if it lasts for a short time. ]
Monsters are the ones who decide who gets hurt, and who gets saved.
[she holds his hands, gentle still - doesn't touch the feathers or try and pet them, for now. he's giving her trust, and she wants to honor that.]
I don't think you are one. But... [she glances up at him.] It has helped me to think of things that way. That whatever I am, that whatever you are, you try to help. You have helped. You have helped me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Stop that. [she's so exasperated]
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[ He'S JUST ON THE FLOOR ]
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Explain more. [talk about your past since i CAN'T GET YOU FOR MEMSHARE HUFFS]
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... He'd rather not, but he owes her answers after cursing the shit out of her and then later she dies oop. So he feels guilty enough, despite wanting to hide. ]
... I'm not human. Not a spirit, or anything from the divine, either.
"Plants" where I'm from is a term... They are manmade resource power plants, capable of drawing energy to procure any necessity for human survival. Water, food, light, trees, electricity, gravity, oxygen—they can provide it all as long as they're cared for. They cannot live outside of the bubble biome and they need maintenance, so they rely on mankind.
My brother and I were a scientific miracle. Born from a plant, we were independent beings, able to walk and talk like humans. However, our powers were catastrophic. Plants come in two varieties. Ones that draw energy, which includes my brother, he could manipulate and weaponize it. The other type of plant can expel energy.
[ He closes his eyes, trying to calm down the insecure nerves, however they get to him. The area around the corner of his eyes change texture, growing short ligaments that mimic white feathers with crevices that could be mistaken for markings. They flare at the wild emotions, but this is just the flavor text i got approved to be able to do because it's biological and ultimately they don't do anything. ]
They can create a void... And it can swallow everything in its path. Planets, galaxies, can fall into this black hole.
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And you are this variety.
[she says, gently. she reaches for his hands, or for any part of him, just to... well, reassure, but also show that she isn't scared of him, or repulsed. she will always reach. whatever he is, she's seen who he is. and she trusts that over anything else.]
... You are a little like the swords were. [made by and used by humans.] Do you want to know what Ylfa told me, once?
[this has a point.]
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Quiet, he simply looks at her. How is he supposed to know? What can he even expect? Is it about being a monster? It must be.
He isn't sure how much of it would help him, but any type of salvation would be preferable than the mess that is his mind. Even if it lasts for a short time. ]
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[she holds his hands, gentle still - doesn't touch the feathers or try and pet them, for now. he's giving her trust, and she wants to honor that.]
I don't think you are one. But... [she glances up at him.] It has helped me to think of things that way. That whatever I am, that whatever you are, you try to help. You have helped. You have helped me.
That says more about you than anything else.