Tipsy listens closely as he explains, her gaze steady on his face even as his words falter and trail. She can see the effort in it, the way he searches for something solid to offer her and comes up with something uncertain, unfinished. Still, she holds onto it. Green at the edges, yellow toward the middle. Other colors slipping in and out like passing thoughts.
Her head tilts slightly, antennae giving a faint, thoughtful tremor as she tries to imagine it. The lilies at her chest pulse once, softly, as if echoing her focus. “I’m trying to picture it,” she admits, her voice quiet and sincere. “But I don’t know what to do with something I can’t see at all.” Her gaze drops then, puzzled, studying herself again as if something might reveal itself if she just looks long enough. The soft green glow remains steady against her skin. The lilies bloom as they always do. Nothing shifts. Nothing answers.
When she lifts her head again, her expression is softer now. Less confused. More curious. “It sounds…” she hesitates, searching for the right word, “…alive.” A small pause follows, and then a faint, sheepish smile tugs at her lips. Of course it would be. She’s alive, and if those colors are her, then… what a silly thing to say. Her gaze dips briefly, a quiet flicker of embarrassment passing through her before she steadies again.
Her ears lift slightly as she studies him again, noticing the way his attention keeps slipping past her, how his focus follows something just beyond her physical form. It no longer feels unsettling. Just unfamiliar. “Does it ever stay still?” she asks gently. “Or is it always changing?” A faint smile returns to her lips, small but warm. “And when you look at me,” she adds, voice light with curiosity, “are you looking at me… or at the colors?”
OOC: I apologize for the long wait- just moved across the country. @eddie
Her head tilts slightly, antennae giving a faint, thoughtful tremor as she tries to imagine it. The lilies at her chest pulse once, softly, as if echoing her focus. “I’m trying to picture it,” she admits, her voice quiet and sincere. “But I don’t know what to do with something I can’t see at all.” Her gaze drops then, puzzled, studying herself again as if something might reveal itself if she just looks long enough. The soft green glow remains steady against her skin. The lilies bloom as they always do. Nothing shifts. Nothing answers.
When she lifts her head again, her expression is softer now. Less confused. More curious. “It sounds…” she hesitates, searching for the right word, “…alive.” A small pause follows, and then a faint, sheepish smile tugs at her lips. Of course it would be. She’s alive, and if those colors are her, then… what a silly thing to say. Her gaze dips briefly, a quiet flicker of embarrassment passing through her before she steadies again.
Her ears lift slightly as she studies him again, noticing the way his attention keeps slipping past her, how his focus follows something just beyond her physical form. It no longer feels unsettling. Just unfamiliar. “Does it ever stay still?” she asks gently. “Or is it always changing?” A faint smile returns to her lips, small but warm. “And when you look at me,” she adds, voice light with curiosity, “are you looking at me… or at the colors?”
OOC: I apologize for the long wait- just moved across the country. @eddie