"Well, I...may have come here to cry on you, a little," he admits, then gives in to his initial urge and leans into her, hugging her around the waist. "I mean, we can cry on each other. It may not change anything but it won't make anything worse, either."
"You're brilliant, and sweet, and beautiful, and loving. That's not useless."
She welcomed the hug, arms looped around him in turn.
"Brilliant is a stretch, sweetness." She laughed. "But thank you. Why don't we get our drinks and go cry and cuddle on the couch. It's a lot more comfortable than the kitchen."
"Brilliant like a light. Brilliant like the sun." He chuckles softly, well aware she's not going to be winning any awards for her scientific thesis anytime soon (although if she's immortal there's always a chance, right?). "I mean it. Thank you."
He nods in response to her suggestion, letting go reluctantly to pick up his drink. "Maybe you can help me with my animal transformations if we need a distraction from crying. I make a very short, stubby cat and I'm not sure why..."
Her cheeks flushed. "As sweet as ever, my friend." She chuckled, dismissing his thanks politely with a faff of her hand. Of course.
She headed out of the kitchen and toward the conversation pit in the center of the living room — all comfy cushions and pillows and blankets — and flopped down into a corner, leaving room for him to cuddle up beside her on the wide seat. "You need to think big thoughts." That sounded fake. "Seriously."
He follows her into the pile of pillows, casting about until he can find a place to set his drink where it won't tip over. That done, he rubs the back of his head a little sheepishly. "I'm not sure how to do that. I've been approaching it the same way I approach shaping crystals. Just...focusing on the internal structure and the overall shape?"
Demonstrating is clearly the best way to go, here. She can still converse with him in an animal form anyway. He closes his eyes briefly and dwindles into a cat shape. It's a soft charcoal grey, with big blue eyes, and...yes, those are short stubby little legs, there. He looks like a stuffed animal.
"Got to imagine yourself as a big cat!" Like it was easy. "I always imagine myself bigger than I am — Halsin size, if you need a reference. You've seen him as a bear, right?"
She sipped her wine, her eyes widening when he changed shape. "Aww! Barcus! Look at how cute you are!"
"I have, though not very often. With furry animals, I often wonder how much of the bulk is hair, actually. I know deep rothe aren't half as huge as they look." Imagining himself bigger is a challenge, Night Sky. He'll try, though.
He is cute. That's the thing. He endeavors not to be too cute as a gnome. It's all too easy for bigger folk to infantilize his kind and he's painfully aware of that, but there are advantages to looking more vulnerable and innocent than you are, too. So, maybe he should just make use of the endearing roundness of this cat shape?
"Satchel seemed to think so, too. She immediately started bathing my ears." Convenient that she can understand him in this shape. You're going to get him rambling at you in all sorts of forms that way.
Hell, since they're both in a pile of pillows anyway...he stretches slowly, then clambers across the soft, unstable landscape to flop into her lap. Purr.
"You ever see a hairless bear? They look hilarious." She giggled and shifted so he could properly flop onto his lap, free hand gently scratching between his ears. "Being cute isn't a bad thing, though. You can get away with murder when you're cute. Figuratively. Maybe literally. Don't murder anyone." She joked. "It's nice to just be an animal sometimes, though. I really should go lay out in the grass as a wolf more often or something."
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"You're brilliant, and sweet, and beautiful, and loving. That's not useless."
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"Brilliant is a stretch, sweetness." She laughed. "But thank you. Why don't we get our drinks and go cry and cuddle on the couch. It's a lot more comfortable than the kitchen."
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He nods in response to her suggestion, letting go reluctantly to pick up his drink. "Maybe you can help me with my animal transformations if we need a distraction from crying. I make a very short, stubby cat and I'm not sure why..."
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She headed out of the kitchen and toward the conversation pit in the center of the living room — all comfy cushions and pillows and blankets — and flopped down into a corner, leaving room for him to cuddle up beside her on the wide seat. "You need to think big thoughts." That sounded fake. "Seriously."
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Demonstrating is clearly the best way to go, here. She can still converse with him in an animal form anyway. He closes his eyes briefly and dwindles into a cat shape. It's a soft charcoal grey, with big blue eyes, and...yes, those are short stubby little legs, there. He looks like a stuffed animal.
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She sipped her wine, her eyes widening when he changed shape. "Aww! Barcus! Look at how cute you are!"
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He is cute. That's the thing. He endeavors not to be too cute as a gnome. It's all too easy for bigger folk to infantilize his kind and he's painfully aware of that, but there are advantages to looking more vulnerable and innocent than you are, too. So, maybe he should just make use of the endearing roundness of this cat shape?
"Satchel seemed to think so, too. She immediately started bathing my ears." Convenient that she can understand him in this shape. You're going to get him rambling at you in all sorts of forms that way.
Hell, since they're both in a pile of pillows anyway...he stretches slowly, then clambers across the soft, unstable landscape to flop into her lap. Purr.
no subject