V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
He was patient, something the star appreciated.
She knew she wasn't like the others on this rock, that her mannerisms were off. Her speech was so far down the hole, it was just a speck at this point, but she was trying. Oh, oh how she tried. So any time someone took the patience to seem to work with her was one that made her smile. And so of course she willingly moved forward, even as he seemed to observe her when she told him her home. The harsh heat of the desert, the intense scents and spices in the air. It wasn't her favorite place, but Jane was there, and that's all that mattered to her!
Where her best friend was, she would be too.
Unless she was exploring of course. Which was becoming more and more necessary as Jane seemed to work more, and more. It required Veil to go out her own path, to try to learn how to talk, how to understand those of this world. Some made it easy for her, others not so much. But this stallion was even encouraging, and as he moved, she quickly caught up, her own steps light, star dust painting the sky behind her as she moved, twinkling softly like galaxies lost in the night sky.
He doesn't appear to like the water though.
Like it was set ill against him, or perhaps a conflict of interests? Emotional cues of her magic rarely gave her much to of on, but she watches as he moved about, approaching a bag that had a variety of small items in it. As his head lifts, he spots something, and he speaks as he walks towards a sparkling green. She listens intently as she watches him. The words are foreign, but the emotional hints her magic offer, help to decipher the noises. Noises. Sounds. "I [completion, success, triumph] and [gifting, appreciation, equalism] her mind has no translation for things, but as he keeps speaking, she does make one immediate recognition, as he grabbed the shell, as the cue of that very image in her mind matched the cue of the noise he gave. She tilted her head, realizing on then, he was collecting the items. but the rest of the words? I collect, [completion, success, triumph] [Coming of atoms, a familiar voice whispering as she was resurrected, a new form, a new body, a new being from the scattered remnants of the nebula she had once been].
She follows him as he grabs the shell, watching it go with the others in the bag.
New . . . new, like when she first woke, New, like that moment of fear as she tumbled for weeks trying to manage her sense of balance in space. This time, as she speaks, it's with a sudden profoundness, I am new, was star. Now. Not. And with that realization, she looks back to what he's doing, eyes suddenly alive, as the pieces clicked together. She was new, because she'd been remade. Someone had taken her old atoms, her old energies, and collected those, making them new, her new, into something new. What . . . . you make? The speech is hesitant, as she sniffs at the bag, before her eyes turn towards him, head tilting to the side, as the space rock around her neck thumps against her chest.
She is curious, but more than that.
She's delighted over some of these new words, new sounds. But then she pauses, realizing he could tell her what he did, and she'd never understand, so instead she sheepishly smiles, No, sorry. A pause, trying to reformat her question, trying to think of a sound she could mimic to get her point across, See? She doesn't know the meaning proper, but the noise she was still learning was always connected with visual discovery, of learning, and delightment, like the first time her eyes saw the waters reflecting the stars in the sky. She could wait to be shown, but it would help to explain one thing best - the best way tot each her these sounds, was by visual connection between the noises and what those noises actually spoke to.
The emotional cues filled in the rest of the blanks.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Benedict
Notes:: <3
She knew she wasn't like the others on this rock, that her mannerisms were off. Her speech was so far down the hole, it was just a speck at this point, but she was trying. Oh, oh how she tried. So any time someone took the patience to seem to work with her was one that made her smile. And so of course she willingly moved forward, even as he seemed to observe her when she told him her home. The harsh heat of the desert, the intense scents and spices in the air. It wasn't her favorite place, but Jane was there, and that's all that mattered to her!
Where her best friend was, she would be too.
Unless she was exploring of course. Which was becoming more and more necessary as Jane seemed to work more, and more. It required Veil to go out her own path, to try to learn how to talk, how to understand those of this world. Some made it easy for her, others not so much. But this stallion was even encouraging, and as he moved, she quickly caught up, her own steps light, star dust painting the sky behind her as she moved, twinkling softly like galaxies lost in the night sky.
He doesn't appear to like the water though.
Like it was set ill against him, or perhaps a conflict of interests? Emotional cues of her magic rarely gave her much to of on, but she watches as he moved about, approaching a bag that had a variety of small items in it. As his head lifts, he spots something, and he speaks as he walks towards a sparkling green. She listens intently as she watches him. The words are foreign, but the emotional hints her magic offer, help to decipher the noises. Noises. Sounds. "I [completion, success, triumph] and [gifting, appreciation, equalism] her mind has no translation for things, but as he keeps speaking, she does make one immediate recognition, as he grabbed the shell, as the cue of that very image in her mind matched the cue of the noise he gave. She tilted her head, realizing on then, he was collecting the items. but the rest of the words? I collect, [completion, success, triumph] [Coming of atoms, a familiar voice whispering as she was resurrected, a new form, a new body, a new being from the scattered remnants of the nebula she had once been].
She follows him as he grabs the shell, watching it go with the others in the bag.
New . . . new, like when she first woke, New, like that moment of fear as she tumbled for weeks trying to manage her sense of balance in space. This time, as she speaks, it's with a sudden profoundness, I am new, was star. Now. Not. And with that realization, she looks back to what he's doing, eyes suddenly alive, as the pieces clicked together. She was new, because she'd been remade. Someone had taken her old atoms, her old energies, and collected those, making them new, her new, into something new. What . . . . you make? The speech is hesitant, as she sniffs at the bag, before her eyes turn towards him, head tilting to the side, as the space rock around her neck thumps against her chest.
She is curious, but more than that.
She's delighted over some of these new words, new sounds. But then she pauses, realizing he could tell her what he did, and she'd never understand, so instead she sheepishly smiles, No, sorry. A pause, trying to reformat her question, trying to think of a sound she could mimic to get her point across, See? She doesn't know the meaning proper, but the noise she was still learning was always connected with visual discovery, of learning, and delightment, like the first time her eyes saw the waters reflecting the stars in the sky. She could wait to be shown, but it would help to explain one thing best - the best way tot each her these sounds, was by visual connection between the noises and what those noises actually spoke to.
The emotional cues filled in the rest of the blanks.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@
Notes:: <3
Could you be my super nova girl?
