He wants to know. Atem's reasoning-brain, normally a racing engine in a place like Ryslig that he thinks is all game-elements all the time, has had the power cut, its momentum killed by emergency brakes. But there are still sparks of himself, still gleams of the monstrous nephilim-light, that flicker inside him, deep in the belly of the hollow, stilled edifice. The part of him that's Atem wants to take control of this situation, self-doubt or not -- the part that's still fighting the sinking lack-of-control that's been Atem's state of mind the last few days, the part that wants all the pieces so he can consider all the angles.
And the part of him that's the nephilim wants to know what did you do? to make you look that ashamed, it must be something serious...do you d̸̯͛e̴̩̓s̴͖͝ė̶͔r̸̮̍v̸̛̥e̵͙̽ to be held?
That part of him isn't being listened to and has no right to speak.]
Of course that's okay!
[And he'll reach out with both hands, pushing his own questions down into the numbness that's the rest of his mind, and pulling Ryou in.
(Tybolt, who has no idea what a mood is and hasn't been taught to read a room on command yet, rubs his head on the couch cushion and follows the motion through so he rolls over onto his back, paws dangling loosely in the air as he considers something only he knows.)]
no subject
He wants to know. Atem's reasoning-brain, normally a racing engine in a place like Ryslig that he thinks is all game-elements all the time, has had the power cut, its momentum killed by emergency brakes. But there are still sparks of himself, still gleams of the monstrous nephilim-light, that flicker inside him, deep in the belly of the hollow, stilled edifice. The part of him that's Atem wants to take control of this situation, self-doubt or not -- the part that's still fighting the sinking lack-of-control that's been Atem's state of mind the last few days, the part that wants all the pieces so he can consider all the angles.
And the part of him that's the nephilim wants to know what did you do? to make you look that ashamed, it must be something serious...do you d̸̯͛e̴̩̓s̴͖͝ė̶͔r̸̮̍v̸̛̥e̵͙̽ to be held?
That part of him isn't being listened to and has no right to speak.]
Of course that's okay!
[And he'll reach out with both hands, pushing his own questions down into the numbness that's the rest of his mind, and pulling Ryou in.
(Tybolt, who has no idea what a mood is and hasn't been taught to read a room on command yet, rubs his head on the couch cushion and follows the motion through so he rolls over onto his back, paws dangling loosely in the air as he considers something only he knows.)]