07-19-2018, 11:10 AM
// this wasn't made to be replied to but feel free if you want. Also feel free to give me any ooc thoughts. I'm always open to criticism.
cry wasn't much for talking. She normally liked to keep to herself. It was just... easier that way. Words were hard. There were so many strings and combinations you could make... how does someone know they are not going to mess up with what they were going to say? Talking was hard. And tiring. In her old body, it physically took energy to talk. She did not have a mouth, nor vocal chords, so talking consumed energy projecting her thoughts to nearby consciousness. To a machine or camera, she would have been completely silent. That's how most polies lived their lives, in complete utter silence. She wasn't made to speak. She wasn't made to run or play or fight. She was made to sit in a tree her whole life and absorb sunlight. Maybe hide every once and while if someone got too close to the hive. It disgusted her. All her life was already coded out and put right in front of her. She wasn't allowed to choose anything. She wasn't allowed to fight for what she thought was right. So when she was rescued by her mom and dad, she had everything to give them.
She knew she was adopted. She was no fool, after all. She fared not to dwell on it too much. Polies were not much for family anyways. They technically were not even 'born', so if she wasn't, she would never have had parents in the first place. The closest her species had to families were Groves. They were a group of folks you could trust. You never necessarily liked them, but you could trust them to have your back and keep you alive, just like they trusted you. It wasn't like that with her rescued family. Ace and Jack raised them akin to animalia children (which was weird considering both were liquidea). Her and Syn both shared a room and had a list of chores and rules to abide by every day, but other than that, they were free to do whatever they want. Cry, herself, gravitated to her mother. He was the much more casual of the two. He brought her on hiking trips and taught her about various tools and gadgets around the shop in the front two rooms of the house. She was her mom's personal little shadow. Now... that wasn't saying she disliked her father, of course. She loved him much as she loved her mom. Though... despite being the calmer of the two, he did activities much more brutal and dangerous. Jack was a creature of creativity and integrity. He was always playing in the basement trying to find some sort of new discovery about vim or the atragiums. She spent some times with him during her early years, but got flung against the wall too many times for her own comfort (and while Jack could just stand back up from that, each time she had to stay in bed for days for her structure to heal). Ultimately her father agreed it would be best for both her and her brother to stay upstairs.
Her mother and father relied on each other. They were almost perfectly two halves of the same whole. They were desperate for each other. The two of them were like peas in a pod. Whenever they were not working to keep a roof over their head (and not necessarily food on the table considering none of them ate), they were together. Talking, sitting, playing games with herself and her brother. Ace and Jack, despite being responsible like an adult, both had the heart of a child. They planned family trips last minute and often forgot things at the house. Cry, as a poly that could barely see, has probably seen more breathtaking views than most professional explorers. The four of them went everywhere together. It was safer that way. Less conflict with those you love. Less fights and wars. She's never seen her parents fight. ... Well... She saw them fight ... once.
("What's the matter, Garden?" She heard Ace cry out, giggling under his breath as he leisurely brushed the blue blood from his face. The rain was pouring, the very elements themselves distraught over the war caught on this poor poor flower field. He was holding a knife, twirling it absentmindedly around one of his fingers. His membrane was darker than usual, a dark blood red replacing the normal bright cherry color. His eyes were wide, pupils shrunken. He took a few steps forward, destroying the pocket knife back into vim which his heart absorbed. It was pitch black, cracks and veins coating the corrupted relic. He kneeled down to his partner, gently patting his head. "Too much for you?" He frowned, "That's a shame." )
It was something she never wanted to think about again. Everwelle was a monster.
They would have loved it here. Cry stared up at the night sky, a steaming hot glass of cocoa occupying the space next to her. The raven ruffled her feathers, brushing up against the cup to siphon its heat. They all would have loved it here. Her family was always more of people persons than her. They enjoyed talking and being around others. Well... Jack didn't but he still found a way to be social (Even if Ace dragged him into it most of the time. Physically. Either by the arm or the back of his neck). Cry yawned, shutting her eyes. She'll fine them. One day.
"SPEECH"
cry wasn't much for talking. She normally liked to keep to herself. It was just... easier that way. Words were hard. There were so many strings and combinations you could make... how does someone know they are not going to mess up with what they were going to say? Talking was hard. And tiring. In her old body, it physically took energy to talk. She did not have a mouth, nor vocal chords, so talking consumed energy projecting her thoughts to nearby consciousness. To a machine or camera, she would have been completely silent. That's how most polies lived their lives, in complete utter silence. She wasn't made to speak. She wasn't made to run or play or fight. She was made to sit in a tree her whole life and absorb sunlight. Maybe hide every once and while if someone got too close to the hive. It disgusted her. All her life was already coded out and put right in front of her. She wasn't allowed to choose anything. She wasn't allowed to fight for what she thought was right. So when she was rescued by her mom and dad, she had everything to give them.
She knew she was adopted. She was no fool, after all. She fared not to dwell on it too much. Polies were not much for family anyways. They technically were not even 'born', so if she wasn't, she would never have had parents in the first place. The closest her species had to families were Groves. They were a group of folks you could trust. You never necessarily liked them, but you could trust them to have your back and keep you alive, just like they trusted you. It wasn't like that with her rescued family. Ace and Jack raised them akin to animalia children (which was weird considering both were liquidea). Her and Syn both shared a room and had a list of chores and rules to abide by every day, but other than that, they were free to do whatever they want. Cry, herself, gravitated to her mother. He was the much more casual of the two. He brought her on hiking trips and taught her about various tools and gadgets around the shop in the front two rooms of the house. She was her mom's personal little shadow. Now... that wasn't saying she disliked her father, of course. She loved him much as she loved her mom. Though... despite being the calmer of the two, he did activities much more brutal and dangerous. Jack was a creature of creativity and integrity. He was always playing in the basement trying to find some sort of new discovery about vim or the atragiums. She spent some times with him during her early years, but got flung against the wall too many times for her own comfort (and while Jack could just stand back up from that, each time she had to stay in bed for days for her structure to heal). Ultimately her father agreed it would be best for both her and her brother to stay upstairs.
Her mother and father relied on each other. They were almost perfectly two halves of the same whole. They were desperate for each other. The two of them were like peas in a pod. Whenever they were not working to keep a roof over their head (and not necessarily food on the table considering none of them ate), they were together. Talking, sitting, playing games with herself and her brother. Ace and Jack, despite being responsible like an adult, both had the heart of a child. They planned family trips last minute and often forgot things at the house. Cry, as a poly that could barely see, has probably seen more breathtaking views than most professional explorers. The four of them went everywhere together. It was safer that way. Less conflict with those you love. Less fights and wars. She's never seen her parents fight. ... Well... She saw them fight ... once.
("What's the matter, Garden?" She heard Ace cry out, giggling under his breath as he leisurely brushed the blue blood from his face. The rain was pouring, the very elements themselves distraught over the war caught on this poor poor flower field. He was holding a knife, twirling it absentmindedly around one of his fingers. His membrane was darker than usual, a dark blood red replacing the normal bright cherry color. His eyes were wide, pupils shrunken. He took a few steps forward, destroying the pocket knife back into vim which his heart absorbed. It was pitch black, cracks and veins coating the corrupted relic. He kneeled down to his partner, gently patting his head. "Too much for you?" He frowned, "That's a shame." )
It was something she never wanted to think about again. Everwelle was a monster.
They would have loved it here. Cry stared up at the night sky, a steaming hot glass of cocoa occupying the space next to her. The raven ruffled her feathers, brushing up against the cup to siphon its heat. They all would have loved it here. Her family was always more of people persons than her. They enjoyed talking and being around others. Well... Jack didn't but he still found a way to be social (Even if Ace dragged him into it most of the time. Physically. Either by the arm or the back of his neck). Cry yawned, shutting her eyes. She'll fine them. One day.
"SPEECH"