the kind of man I can be

Neron

the wind breathes lonely
longing to be seen

Neron snorts a bit at that, shaking his head. "I'm pretty sure the lack of physical sensation makes us more emotional sometimes," he says with a wry smile. It certainly seemed to be that way for the Hailstorm - he has never been so invested in people before his ascension. He wonders, briefly, if that's another thing the Voice has caused with the alterations to his body. Either way, it's a musing for another time; he's much more interested in Morgan.

With a softer smile thrown her way, he nods the affirmative. "I'm quite alright," he assures her. "I just can't recall any time someone actually touched me, the way people touch each other." The easy and casual affection that wasn't driven by lust or a need to move him from A to B. It feels almost foreign to him currently.

At hearing her call him vain, he can't help but brighten again, straightening up in his seat and preening quite obviously at her. "I am," he tells her easily. "But even the most prideful of us know when to seize an opportunity that will be good for them." Which he plans to tonight, until talk of someone named Deimos throws ice water over his proverbial fire.

"Who?" he asks slowly, raising an eyebrow and trying (and failing) to appear casual.

sometimes the soul
has days like these