[ when he sits next to her, she does ease up a little. she quietly nods. ]
He... is different. Like me. [ he isn't human, he's a spirit- a sword. ] He always.. checked up on me. He made sure I was safe in my room, every night.
[ her voice wavers, blinking quickly as though that'll stop the tears welling up again. ] I've.. felt it, from Hermes, when a creation was undone. How sad it is. How.. empty. But this... this is different.
Death is.. painful. [ it hurts. it's sad, she feels helpless. ]
[he agrees, quietly. it's touch week, so he's settled close enough for her to lean if she wants.]
But you must remember the ways in which their very stars are different from our own. Even he, and the others of his kind, were no strangers to battle. To death.
[different, yes. but not quite like her. not like anyone else, either, but no creation that would be found upon etheirys.]
[ it's almost subconscious, from all the touches she's gone through this week, that seek for comfort that has her move. so she does lean closer to his side, almost burrowing like a small chick against its parent. ]
..Mm. He did tell me that.. that people use swords, to hurt others. So he was used to seeing.. death. Harming others. [ but she did not blame him. he is, after all, a sword. a weapon used by others. what say.. does a weapon have? even if she would rather wish and hope you a better life than that for him.
still, those words do put her slight bit at ease. ]
Does the prism... feel so unbalanced, that it feels like it needs.. to do this? [ she says this much more quietly, so many thoughts and questions in her mind. why buzen? why does this keep happening? how long until it stops? will it ever stop? a hand raises to tuck a wing against her cheek, feather colors of dark blue mixed in with a few more duller shades. ]
[when she leans in closer, he pauses, a few moments-- then exhales a slow sigh, arm wrapping around her. it feels far more natural than it normally does, this week, and it isn't something he can run from forever.]
We do not know why, yet. I cannot say with certainty. But it seems that this will continue, and so you must accept what they are. That most are simply not made to live indefinitely.
[even if not through this, even if they were not killed... they would be lost, in what feels like such a short time to his kind. likely to her, too, familiar that she is.]
That they are susceptible to this, as well, to whatever this prism has done to ensure such deaths. There must be something to them which allows it to take advantage of this flaw.
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w2, friday post-body
when she notices Emet, her body tenses, looking akin to a kicked puppy. ] ..Emet-Selch.
[ she got super attached :( ]
no subject
[birb...
he comes to take a seat next to her, with a sigh.]
You were close, were you not.
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He... is different. Like me. [ he isn't human, he's a spirit- a sword. ] He always.. checked up on me. He made sure I was safe in my room, every night.
[ her voice wavers, blinking quickly as though that'll stop the tears welling up again. ] I've.. felt it, from Hermes, when a creation was undone. How sad it is. How.. empty. But this... this is different.
Death is.. painful. [ it hurts. it's sad, she feels helpless. ]
no subject
[he agrees, quietly. it's touch week, so he's settled close enough for her to lean if she wants.]
But you must remember the ways in which their very stars are different from our own. Even he, and the others of his kind, were no strangers to battle. To death.
[different, yes. but not quite like her. not like anyone else, either, but no creation that would be found upon etheirys.]
no subject
..Mm. He did tell me that.. that people use swords, to hurt others. So he was used to seeing.. death. Harming others. [ but she did not blame him. he is, after all, a sword. a weapon used by others. what say.. does a weapon have? even if she would rather wish and hope you a better life than that for him.
still, those words do put her slight bit at ease. ]
Does the prism... feel so unbalanced, that it feels like it needs.. to do this? [ she says this much more quietly, so many thoughts and questions in her mind. why buzen? why does this keep happening? how long until it stops? will it ever stop? a hand raises to tuck a wing against her cheek, feather colors of dark blue mixed in with a few more duller shades. ]
no subject
We do not know why, yet. I cannot say with certainty. But it seems that this will continue, and so you must accept what they are. That most are simply not made to live indefinitely.
[even if not through this, even if they were not killed... they would be lost, in what feels like such a short time to his kind. likely to her, too, familiar that she is.]
That they are susceptible to this, as well, to whatever this prism has done to ensure such deaths. There must be something to them which allows it to take advantage of this flaw.