Ophelia
we're just two ghosts
swimming in a glass half empty
swimming in a glass half empty
Ophelia relaxes at the reassurance, though their eyes watch Maea's hands comb ash through her hair with a strange expression on their face. One entirely unrelated to the accidental admission that does not escape their notice. "It's strange to know we can die again. Well, in 'normal' ways," they elaborate, meaning things like starvation and various lacerations or injuries that would otherwise only create electric impulses and system warnings in their previous bodies. Phi knows better than to ask about Maea's death, though they're admittedly curious about it. "I was so happy to not feel human things anymore when I first Ascended." It had been their entire goal to begin with, to ensure they would never starve again, never fear that if they fell asleep on a frozen night that they wouldn't wake again.
"I lived hungry, cold, hurting. I never wanted to feel anything again. But it's nice to feel heat again, and to hold hands or hug." They don't get to do it often, but even carrying the man in from outside had slaked the eternal thirst of desire for touch that lives in their chest.
That kind of starvation is one they have never managed to assuage, and so when Maea gently strokes their hair, they lean into it like a needy cat as their face takes on an expression not unlike awe. "Yes," they whisper, feeling just as they had when in the Voice's presence for the first time as they gaze up at Maea then. Her pale skin is ash-streaked and bits of webbing cling stubbornly through her ivory hair. She is painfully, beautifully mortal, and yet she seems godlike to Ophelia as they sit together on worn pews that have seen countless patrons of pious fealty. What is one more? It almost chokes them, but Phi breathes through it enough to beam, brighter than moonlight. "I will look right away! That way you can have your own room again." Ophelia is more than happy to sleep in the woods in their Lial form forever, but now they have a mission, a bridge to be built that might lead them to meaningful connection again. There is no time to waste.
"I lived hungry, cold, hurting. I never wanted to feel anything again. But it's nice to feel heat again, and to hold hands or hug." They don't get to do it often, but even carrying the man in from outside had slaked the eternal thirst of desire for touch that lives in their chest.
That kind of starvation is one they have never managed to assuage, and so when Maea gently strokes their hair, they lean into it like a needy cat as their face takes on an expression not unlike awe. "Yes," they whisper, feeling just as they had when in the Voice's presence for the first time as they gaze up at Maea then. Her pale skin is ash-streaked and bits of webbing cling stubbornly through her ivory hair. She is painfully, beautifully mortal, and yet she seems godlike to Ophelia as they sit together on worn pews that have seen countless patrons of pious fealty. What is one more? It almost chokes them, but Phi breathes through it enough to beam, brighter than moonlight. "I will look right away! That way you can have your own room again." Ophelia is more than happy to sleep in the woods in their Lial form forever, but now they have a mission, a bridge to be built that might lead them to meaningful connection again. There is no time to waste.
trying vainly to forget
the pain that came with heartbeats
the pain that came with heartbeats
