Briefly, Psiioniic ponders how it would feel to mimic Dualscar and sink one nice fist into the blueblood's face. He doesn't have time to listen to some douchebag bluster and whine. There's a broken little wreck of a troll he's holding that's suffering. He doesn't have time for highblooded bullshit!
Humming softly to the Helmsgirl helps keep his mind off of the oh-so tempting idea of it, and she presses right into him, all bones. There's a strange moment of realization when she does it, because he thinks that this might have been him at some point, tearing up and clinging to Dolorosa when she was dressing the old sores and wounds along his back. But this little thing, she has it worse. He wouldn't doubt every single one of the Helmstrolls out there, in the seas and in space, has it infinitely worse than anyone can imagine.
He can taste bile on his tongue just thinking of the ship that's coming back to Alternia for him.
Lost in his own thoughts of rage and despair, and clinging to the Helmsgirl, the Psiioniic nearly misses how the drones come out with the food for the other slaves. It's the soft scent of oranges, overriding the salt of the sea, which snaps him out of it. In a daze, he looks up, between the girl's horns, and sees the kind of food that's stored in there. He faintly remembers telling Dualscar of the kind of food he used to eat as a slave and it dawns on him.
If it weren't for the audience and the more pressing matter of the girl, he'd grab that finfucked idiot by the horns and kiss him senseless. His heart is going to kill him with how it nearly implodes in his chest.
no subject
Humming softly to the Helmsgirl helps keep his mind off of the oh-so tempting idea of it, and she presses right into him, all bones. There's a strange moment of realization when she does it, because he thinks that this might have been him at some point, tearing up and clinging to Dolorosa when she was dressing the old sores and wounds along his back. But this little thing, she has it worse. He wouldn't doubt every single one of the Helmstrolls out there, in the seas and in space, has it infinitely worse than anyone can imagine.
He can taste bile on his tongue just thinking of the ship that's coming back to Alternia for him.
Lost in his own thoughts of rage and despair, and clinging to the Helmsgirl, the Psiioniic nearly misses how the drones come out with the food for the other slaves. It's the soft scent of oranges, overriding the salt of the sea, which snaps him out of it. In a daze, he looks up, between the girl's horns, and sees the kind of food that's stored in there. He faintly remembers telling Dualscar of the kind of food he used to eat as a slave and it dawns on him.
If it weren't for the audience and the more pressing matter of the girl, he'd grab that finfucked idiot by the horns and kiss him senseless. His heart is going to kill him with how it nearly implodes in his chest.