[ Happiness, she finds, is as consuming as a sickness. She knows addiction. In a way that she'll never be whole for what being burning, vibrant light made her ( angel on high, like old books from a country planet describe, being of a thousand eyes and a voice in multitude ). So she finds herself a glutton to the things that for a second, make that missing go away. Looks for it, in however she can, to dull the ache of what it means to be ( a china doll, pretty dress of lace and ribbons, but smash it's delicate little porcelain brains in, and it's all empty inside ) ( second best to holy, even if holy hurts ) just herself. Hard thing to explain, harder thing to find others that understand quite what that means.
He does, though, she wonders if he has the same addictions she has - but Prince told her, not to pry, not to expect others to be so willing to join into the cacophony as she did. So it's not of her business why he seems to be so willing to indulge in her new drug of choice. Happiness, sweetness, the breeze of laughter as it sails out all, the way he tells her stories, the way she's all rapt in listening. But he does, and as long as he does - shares the far away, different illusions perhaps to the one she makes, but the merit is the same she finds - she is content to keep doing it with him.
It's no different to that - the planet is: something green, something rich and beautiful, and the people there are not so advanced and she has to spend all of her time covered up because she is full of bits of metal, her strange markings that glow so brightly. It's a problem enough that she has to cover herself up. Irritating as it is, it's for the mission so she has to hide herself away. Makes it relief however that when she gets to be alone, to strip down, wear something light and comfortable. Hanging off loosely and that she really doesn't care too much about except that it's nicer to be just herself and nothing else with him.
It's pretty, where they are. Their camp is tucked away from sight, heavy branched trees covered in flowers and she has never gotten sick of being outside - well, he knows. Likes especially when she gets to share it with him. Though she's demanding, in her way. Wriggles and worms her way until her head is in his lap and his fiddling with her hair. She likes it a lot. Just to be like this with him in the static transfer of addicting tranquillity. Drag them both down, that's the Pandoran way.
Quiet, for awhile, before she stirs out of her daze. ] Will you tell me another story?
no subject
He does, though, she wonders if he has the same addictions she has - but Prince told her, not to pry, not to expect others to be so willing to join into the cacophony as she did. So it's not of her business why he seems to be so willing to indulge in her new drug of choice. Happiness, sweetness, the breeze of laughter as it sails out all, the way he tells her stories, the way she's all rapt in listening. But he does, and as long as he does - shares the far away, different illusions perhaps to the one she makes, but the merit is the same she finds - she is content to keep doing it with him.
It's no different to that - the planet is: something green, something rich and beautiful, and the people there are not so advanced and she has to spend all of her time covered up because she is full of bits of metal, her strange markings that glow so brightly. It's a problem enough that she has to cover herself up. Irritating as it is, it's for the mission so she has to hide herself away. Makes it relief however that when she gets to be alone, to strip down, wear something light and comfortable. Hanging off loosely and that she really doesn't care too much about except that it's nicer to be just herself and nothing else with him.
It's pretty, where they are. Their camp is tucked away from sight, heavy branched trees covered in flowers and she has never gotten sick of being outside - well, he knows. Likes especially when she gets to share it with him. Though she's demanding, in her way. Wriggles and worms her way until her head is in his lap and his fiddling with her hair. She likes it a lot. Just to be like this with him in the static transfer of addicting tranquillity. Drag them both down, that's the Pandoran way.
Quiet, for awhile, before she stirs out of her daze. ] Will you tell me another story?