The Psiioniic (
polariity) wrote in
thebastion2015-01-26 02:18 pm
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Entry tags:
Day 270 ♊Fuck off, assholes, can't you see I'm flowerpicking
Who: The Helmsman and Disciple
Open: Closed
When: 270
Where: from the Tower to the Skyway
What: The Helmsman is on now on a mission, and he's dragging his favorite cat along
Format: Prose
Warnings: Psii's mangled quirk and language
As was becoming slowly custom, Psii had gone off on his own to lay in grass and wander around a bit. Unlike other times, however, he's actually done something called "social interaction" and, well, that's just about changed everything for the plan today.
It's best demonstrated when he returns to the hive, glancing inside only long enough to make sure that Disciple is both there and awake.
g3t 1n th3 f0ur wh33l3d tr4n2p0rt4t10n v3h1cl3 l023r w3'r3 901n9 fl0w3r p1ck1n9
And with that, he starts to float right back out of the apartment.
Open: Closed
When: 270
Where: from the Tower to the Skyway
What: The Helmsman is on now on a mission, and he's dragging his favorite cat along
Format: Prose
Warnings: Psii's mangled quirk and language
As was becoming slowly custom, Psii had gone off on his own to lay in grass and wander around a bit. Unlike other times, however, he's actually done something called "social interaction" and, well, that's just about changed everything for the plan today.
It's best demonstrated when he returns to the hive, glancing inside only long enough to make sure that Disciple is both there and awake.
g3t 1n th3 f0ur wh33l3d tr4n2p0rt4t10n v3h1cl3 l023r w3'r3 901n9 fl0w3r p1ck1n9
And with that, he starts to float right back out of the apartment.
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"Don't I deserve one? One with you?"
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She's dead now, like everyone else. He's old and ruined and broken, not the person who could have maybe made her happy once upon a time. It just won't work. That doesn't mean he looks happy about it.
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She kisses him softly and leans her forehead against his. He's always been like this, she knows. A happy ending was never something he thought he deserved, even back then.
"Why can't you accept this is real? It's been a while since you came here. You got to sleep in a pile, eat real food, use your psionics properly..."
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1m 2c4r3d
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She pulls a flower out of her hair and tucks it in his.
"Do you want it to be fake?"
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Because that's all he had to be, staring down visions of the future because they never left him alone, knowing they'd all die and he'd be alone, having to deal with his own goddamn brain- Another shake, more violent than before.
1 ju2t w4nt t0 p1ck fl0w3r2
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Disciple leans in to kiss him again, papping his cheek with her free hand. He can't just stay in his own head, facing all his fears and visions all alone.
"...We can pick flowers in a second. I just want to ask...do you still have visions?"
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th3y n3v3r 2t0pp3d
There just wasn't anyone worth telling them to. They'd likely be dismissed anyway, at best, or just drawn out of him like the rest of his powers at worst. Anyway... Sometimes, it was hard to tell what was prophecy and what was hallucination.
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"I'm sorry. I don't suppose I've stopped dying in them have I?"
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...Comforting. Awkwardly, with all of the grace of someone unused to his own body, he lets himself come to rest against her. Like that can keep his mind busy, he tries to put more flowers in her hair again.
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She goes silent before the crackle of psi makes her notice the vague way he hair shifts. Spying a flower out of the corner of her eye, she shakes her head.
"I still say my hair is not the right thing to hold flowers. Yours was clearly made flowers."
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Or fluffy enough. He lets his chin rest along her shoulder, breathing in her smell and that of flowers.
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She ruffles his hair and then quickly tugs a flower free from her hair and tucks it into his. She could fit twenty. Maybe thirty. If she rubbed it to make it all static-y.
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He doesn't want them to fit. This is very unfair. Clearly the answer to this is to try and stuff more flowers into her hair than she is his. Good thing he has a quicker way of doing it... Although they may run out of flowers in this area soon.
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She's up to five by the time she's done talking and his attempts to fill in all her blank spots makes sure there's plenty at hand.
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Well. Alright. That's not entirely true. She's using up all the flowers that he's picking. Still. It's the principle of the thing.
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"...Did you already strip all the flowers from the area. Just how many flowers are in my hair!"
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"...Now your plan is foiled! You can't fit anymore in my hair if you can't find anything to put in it."
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"I don't think we can fit an entire skyways worth of flowers into my hair. I am positive. I'm going to wake up tommorow with flowers in our pile."
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Seriously. They've lost small animals to it, he thinks, and they'll certainly lose some of those flowers. That just means they have to double the amount in order to bring enough back to the Bastion.
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But she trails along behind him because someone has to take care of his idiotic ass. She brushes at a flower hanging in her eyes and sighs the long suffering sigh.
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th12 12 m0r3 funny
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She stands there with such a put upon look on her face. The world is not her oyster. This is the cat with a sweater look.
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