[It's probably fine... He carries on as if he doesn't notice there is anything concerning about himself. There isn't! He's good! (ignores kiraman)]
I would often do things with those in the commune. Play with the children, farm our gardens, listen to some sing or play music.
[He did not have fun so much as fulfillment maybe based on the way his emotions shift placidly and neutrally through him. It doesn't peak with joy or amusement or nostalgia.]
Before I became the Herald, I would invent things. It was fun... until I became terminally ill. The fun turned into desperation.
But I had an obligation to heal those who would come to me for help, and then I had to tend the arcane plane to make sure everything was stable. There was often little time to participate in their better lives.
[ she genuinely has to think about this because on one hand she is cautious and reasonable, and the arcane so far has kind of sounded like the chroma. which can flip your mystic to terror, which is. bad.
........ on the other hand she's curious, and feels safe in heaven, and wants to understand viktor better. besides, a girl can come back to her senses as a terror... kind of... so it's fine. it's probably a totally different thing. ]
[YOU GET SET OFF EVERY TIME IT'S SO FUNNY AAAA your love-hate.
He closes his fingers around her hand then reaches over with his other to place the fingertips against her forehead. Light starbursts behind her eyes. The sensation creeping into her is cool like steel, artificial in an industrial sort of way, yet equally electric with a dark, primordial current. Its song is only a reverberating hum, but a song in the dark nonetheless.
When her vision returns, or maybe she finally opens her eyes, it's difficult to tell if she is floating or falling. There is not anything relative to her in the chasm of stars and nebulae for comparison except Viktor.
He looks a bit as they saw the guardians before: an iridescent, sometimes translucent, glowing silhouette aside from the whole of his visible face. He is different - healthier, fuller, with shorter and fluffier hair (or what would be hair), and his eyes are honey and alive. He smiles actually; amusement surprisingly bleeds through.]
It's a mental one. But I understand what you're trying to do here. I never had a problem with the emotions, but the commune became collateral because of them. Because of others.
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I would often do things with those in the commune. Play with the children, farm our gardens, listen to some sing or play music.
[He did not have fun so much as fulfillment maybe based on the way his emotions shift placidly and neutrally through him. It doesn't peak with joy or amusement or nostalgia.]
Before I became the Herald, I would invent things. It was fun... until I became terminally ill. The fun turned into desperation.
[He's at least self aware about this one part.]
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It's too bad that something you enjoyed became more of a necessity than it had been, though.
But it sounds as though you stepped away from it and found joy in being social? [ MAYBE? PLEASE? ]
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When I had time. They were my people, after all.
But I had an obligation to heal those who would come to me for help, and then I had to tend the arcane plane to make sure everything was stable. There was often little time to participate in their better lives.
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[ so she sees nothing wrong with that part.... help ME....... except. but. ok. but. ]
The... arcane plane?
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There is.
[He loved helping the Zaunites. :(]
Yes. I can show you if you if would like to see it.
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........ on the other hand she's curious, and feels safe in heaven, and wants to understand viktor better. besides, a girl can come back to her senses as a terror... kind of... so it's fine. it's probably a totally different thing. ]
I'd like to. If that's alright with you.
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He turns and politely offers her one of his weirdo indigo hands, palm up.]
It's alright with me. You'll be okay.
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well. she takes his hand! ]
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He closes his fingers around her hand then reaches over with his other to place the fingertips against her forehead. Light starbursts behind her eyes. The sensation creeping into her is cool like steel, artificial in an industrial sort of way, yet equally electric with a dark, primordial current. Its song is only a reverberating hum, but a song in the dark nonetheless.
When her vision returns, or maybe she finally opens her eyes, it's difficult to tell if she is floating or falling. There is not anything relative to her in the chasm of stars and nebulae for comparison except Viktor.
He looks a bit as they saw the guardians before: an iridescent, sometimes translucent, glowing silhouette aside from the whole of his visible face. He is different - healthier, fuller, with shorter and fluffier hair (or what would be hair), and his eyes are honey and alive. He smiles actually; amusement surprisingly bleeds through.]
There.
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but also he looks healthy, and more noteworthy than that: emotive. ]
Is this... Where is this? [ a pocket dimension? another plane? inside of his soul? ]
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He looks like a person, not a controlled vessel!! Yay! The question makes him laugh a little.]
The collective. Or... it would be if they were all here.
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anyway. how to broach this delicately... ]
You're different, here.
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Am I? I feel like my usual self.
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Happier, maybe.
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Honest? It must be because we're in this place.
[IT IS BUT NOT THE REASON HE THINKS.]
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Are you more comfortable here than elsewhere?
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A little, yes.
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Why do you suppose that is?
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His brows furrow. He lifts his head to glance out at the expanse. Why...?]
It's where I can do the most important work.
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[ she's not sure what else you would do in a skybox space that seems to just show people in a... vulnerable state. ]
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[Sorry that you are in the husk of a hivemind, Lailah.]
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And is that not a matter of an emotional connection?
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It's a mental one. But I understand what you're trying to do here. I never had a problem with the emotions, but the commune became collateral because of them. Because of others.
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It has to be. Should be.
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