V e i l N e b u l a
Caught up in a palentary world
When he spoke, he said new noises.
But this time, as he said war, there was an odd chill down her side, and her gaze briefly flicked to the sky, knowing only one thing that gave her the same chill, when Mars was on the move. But the planet wasn't intensely visibly, writhing red, and she felt herself relax a minute bit, but as she looked back at him, it was with the understanding that the mare wanted to offer her reassurances, understanding now that Mars had shined brightly for him in the past. When she spoke, it was different this time, her gaze returning to the sky, and briefly, the universe seemed to speak for her, words, knowledge, memories coming from a connection that was only starting to re-establish itself,
Mars does not judge who he shines down upon.
Her gaze was lost in the skies as if those very secrets were running through her mind in that brief moment. Snippets of words, whispers, knowledge slipped through her mind briefly, a partial connection she wasn't ready to accept yet, wasn't ready to be aware of yet. The familiar whispers of her brothers and sisters, fellow stars always watching, always knowing, many far more advanced in speech than she was, others still humming on a frequency they all were born into, to communicate. She looks away suddenly, blinking, and suddenly Veil was back to normal.
The connection is once more broken, unestablished.
She offered a gentle smile, Ugly. Bad. She murmured soothingly, before frowning slightly at his words, and her gaze briefly returned to the sky, Not gone. She says this with softly spoken wisdom, her gaze briefly flicking back to him, her smile reassuring, Home, sky. She seemed to hesitate as if trying to express what she knew in her heart, what she knew in her head, what had always been whispered to her by the universe. We were all atoms, molecules, part of it. Every individual had stardust inside them, and that connection to the universe was stronger in some than others.
But it meant that the connection between us all never had to fade.
Or so she had always grown to believe. Those lost to time, gone; they had gone back to the universe, and one day a reunion would occur, whether in some waiting room, reincarnation, or other means, it would come for us all. She can't say this in words, but she knows a better way to express it. Her muzzle drops, briefly resting it above his heart, Here, always. She states firmly, pulling back fairly quickly as she felt the odd heartbeat these mortals had compared to her own silent and still chest, from where the pulsating star didn't need an actual beat to force the stardust through her veins.
He speaks more, and she turns her attention back to him.
His words are still so . . . . lonely. sad. blue and gray and black. sad and blue. wistful and gray. black and resolute. and blue and black and gray and blue and sad and lonely and sad and- and she wanted to help, to offer him any sort of comfort she could, and it was in this very moment she swore she'd overcome this horridness of being unable to communicate, unable to express all the thoughts, all the feelings trapped in her head. Doing nothing more than relying on body language.
But she did her best with what she had.
Her head tilted to the side, ears falling with sympathy, and her smile was softer, gentler, as gentle as the touch she'd used earlier to express her support and sympathy. But she doesn't try to speak, instead, she is letting him talk, to talk through it. He says many words she doesn't understand again, defend coming back, same as fight. And this time fighting is suddenly associated with war in her head, the connection snapping as she suddenly understood the feeling. But defend still is hard for her to comprehend. Then he says a word she has no understanding of. She blinks, ears falling to the side in confusion as nothing, no clue comes up, Blood?
There is a distinct question here. For more information.
The star couldn't understand something that wasn't quite the same as what she had. But then, he thanks her and her smile is bright again, nodding at his follow-up as well, Yes. She says softly, her smile warm, causing the galaxies trapped in her pink eyes to sparkle and shimmer, unable to express just how it is better with friends, and then she talks of Jane, and she smiles warmly at the knowledge of her best friend before he spoke and she couldn't help the slight pout, Busy, lonely. She corrects, ears flat, I . . . not busy. Lonely. It was hard to be busy, to find something to do when you couldn't really understand the world around you.
You couldn't help others when you couldn't help yourself.
It made her feel like a burden to Jane, trouble that Jane got saddled with, unable to help, to assist in this world. To sit at home and just wait for Jane to come home. Benedict speaks again and she looks up after a moment, and she smiles slightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time, those troubling thoughts crowding her gaze, Yes, maybe. she merely murmurs, understanding the background emotion of the words, the context clues to deduce what he means, but it doesn't shake the feeling that she's holding Jane back. Would Jane grow bitter? Having to work so hard to support them both? Would Jane grow to hate her, because she was so pathetic? Would Jane eventually leave her too? Alone. Lonely.
She was so afraid of being alone again.
Trapped, struggling through a silent, black hole.
Crushing. Pressuring down. Pain. Alone.
So alone. Again.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@Benedict
Notes:: <3
But this time, as he said war, there was an odd chill down her side, and her gaze briefly flicked to the sky, knowing only one thing that gave her the same chill, when Mars was on the move. But the planet wasn't intensely visibly, writhing red, and she felt herself relax a minute bit, but as she looked back at him, it was with the understanding that the mare wanted to offer her reassurances, understanding now that Mars had shined brightly for him in the past. When she spoke, it was different this time, her gaze returning to the sky, and briefly, the universe seemed to speak for her, words, knowledge, memories coming from a connection that was only starting to re-establish itself,
Mars does not judge who he shines down upon.
Her gaze was lost in the skies as if those very secrets were running through her mind in that brief moment. Snippets of words, whispers, knowledge slipped through her mind briefly, a partial connection she wasn't ready to accept yet, wasn't ready to be aware of yet. The familiar whispers of her brothers and sisters, fellow stars always watching, always knowing, many far more advanced in speech than she was, others still humming on a frequency they all were born into, to communicate. She looks away suddenly, blinking, and suddenly Veil was back to normal.
The connection is once more broken, unestablished.
She offered a gentle smile, Ugly. Bad. She murmured soothingly, before frowning slightly at his words, and her gaze briefly returned to the sky, Not gone. She says this with softly spoken wisdom, her gaze briefly flicking back to him, her smile reassuring, Home, sky. She seemed to hesitate as if trying to express what she knew in her heart, what she knew in her head, what had always been whispered to her by the universe. We were all atoms, molecules, part of it. Every individual had stardust inside them, and that connection to the universe was stronger in some than others.
But it meant that the connection between us all never had to fade.
Or so she had always grown to believe. Those lost to time, gone; they had gone back to the universe, and one day a reunion would occur, whether in some waiting room, reincarnation, or other means, it would come for us all. She can't say this in words, but she knows a better way to express it. Her muzzle drops, briefly resting it above his heart, Here, always. She states firmly, pulling back fairly quickly as she felt the odd heartbeat these mortals had compared to her own silent and still chest, from where the pulsating star didn't need an actual beat to force the stardust through her veins.
He speaks more, and she turns her attention back to him.
His words are still so . . . . lonely. sad. blue and gray and black. sad and blue. wistful and gray. black and resolute. and blue and black and gray and blue and sad and lonely and sad and- and she wanted to help, to offer him any sort of comfort she could, and it was in this very moment she swore she'd overcome this horridness of being unable to communicate, unable to express all the thoughts, all the feelings trapped in her head. Doing nothing more than relying on body language.
But she did her best with what she had.
Her head tilted to the side, ears falling with sympathy, and her smile was softer, gentler, as gentle as the touch she'd used earlier to express her support and sympathy. But she doesn't try to speak, instead, she is letting him talk, to talk through it. He says many words she doesn't understand again, defend coming back, same as fight. And this time fighting is suddenly associated with war in her head, the connection snapping as she suddenly understood the feeling. But defend still is hard for her to comprehend. Then he says a word she has no understanding of. She blinks, ears falling to the side in confusion as nothing, no clue comes up, Blood?
There is a distinct question here. For more information.
The star couldn't understand something that wasn't quite the same as what she had. But then, he thanks her and her smile is bright again, nodding at his follow-up as well, Yes. She says softly, her smile warm, causing the galaxies trapped in her pink eyes to sparkle and shimmer, unable to express just how it is better with friends, and then she talks of Jane, and she smiles warmly at the knowledge of her best friend before he spoke and she couldn't help the slight pout, Busy, lonely. She corrects, ears flat, I . . . not busy. Lonely. It was hard to be busy, to find something to do when you couldn't really understand the world around you.
You couldn't help others when you couldn't help yourself.
It made her feel like a burden to Jane, trouble that Jane got saddled with, unable to help, to assist in this world. To sit at home and just wait for Jane to come home. Benedict speaks again and she looks up after a moment, and she smiles slightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes this time, those troubling thoughts crowding her gaze, Yes, maybe. she merely murmurs, understanding the background emotion of the words, the context clues to deduce what he means, but it doesn't shake the feeling that she's holding Jane back. Would Jane grow bitter? Having to work so hard to support them both? Would Jane grow to hate her, because she was so pathetic? Would Jane eventually leave her too? Alone. Lonely.
She was so afraid of being alone again.
Trapped, struggling through a silent, black hole.
Crushing. Pressuring down. Pain. Alone.
So alone. Again.
FROM THE MOUTH
INSIDE THE MIND
@
Notes:: <3
Could you be my super nova girl?
