08-07-2018, 09:45 PM
"Happy to share work," the mygalamorph stated matter of factly. Any other person would probably be awkward, tip-toeing around how they felt, because it could be interpreted as embarrassing, not something you want in public knowledge - but he didn't care. What people knew about how he felt didn't matter, since it couldn't affect him; not like anybody could figure out a way to kill him based on how he felt, after all, and if it couldn't kill him what greater threat did it serve? Everything about the conversation up until the big reveal wasn't of much note. Some chuckling and other reactions to what he was saying, and besides the teaser for the whole reveal, nothing was being said. The largest amount of action was the white in his eyes darkening to a slight red at how long the reveal was taking, as if he had anything to say while she was clearly supposed to say what she was here for instead of waiting a few seconds for his opinions on nothing, though that all cleared up when she began to speak again.
Sort of.
"Subject Aya... resurrecting life?" A Frankenstein's monster, huh? But... he was reminded of something. Something awful he'd done, what felt like such a long time ago, but likely wasn't, when he developed a complex about death so severe that he desecrated the grave and body of a former comrade's daughter just to see if he could bring someone back. His eyes flashed a brief orange, before it melted down into a deep blue, with him taking a step back from Aya. Damnit, damnit, damnit, he thought he had all this under control, he thought he wouldn't have a severe reaction to what he'd done, but the thought of the growling, of the looks on everybody's faces, of the word "Aba," it all just...
The worst part of not having mental manipulation was that he couldn't dispel the irrationalities faster.
It took him a second to calm down, a streak of white cracking down each of his now blue eyes, but it happened, and even if he was maintaining the sadness that stemmed from even thinking of his little stint with necromancy, he would continue the conversation. Aya wasn't even suggesting bringing someone back, she wanted to shove together some organs and hope it made a new person, which he could respect. He had no right to deny her this, especially since it could prove to be good progress scientifically. So, with a metaphorically set jaw, he said in a voice untinged by the melancholy that he was hoping would fade away soon, "Will participate. Could be worth something."
Sort of.
"Subject Aya... resurrecting life?" A Frankenstein's monster, huh? But... he was reminded of something. Something awful he'd done, what felt like such a long time ago, but likely wasn't, when he developed a complex about death so severe that he desecrated the grave and body of a former comrade's daughter just to see if he could bring someone back. His eyes flashed a brief orange, before it melted down into a deep blue, with him taking a step back from Aya. Damnit, damnit, damnit, he thought he had all this under control, he thought he wouldn't have a severe reaction to what he'd done, but the thought of the growling, of the looks on everybody's faces, of the word "Aba," it all just...
The worst part of not having mental manipulation was that he couldn't dispel the irrationalities faster.
It took him a second to calm down, a streak of white cracking down each of his now blue eyes, but it happened, and even if he was maintaining the sadness that stemmed from even thinking of his little stint with necromancy, he would continue the conversation. Aya wasn't even suggesting bringing someone back, she wanted to shove together some organs and hope it made a new person, which he could respect. He had no right to deny her this, especially since it could prove to be good progress scientifically. So, with a metaphorically set jaw, he said in a voice untinged by the melancholy that he was hoping would fade away soon, "Will participate. Could be worth something."
tags - "speech"