[Very, very much needed was that kiss to be. He smiles under it, eyes closing in the moment so as better to savor. It's brief, but he ain't mind. He moves to fill some of that space, small and gradual.
He definitely is making sure not to say that that's being the kind of ancestor her doesn't want to be. He's had his real and self-imposed isolations. He's seen her sadness. He doesn't want to cause something like that. But again, that requires Gamzee caring first.
He thinks to explain the Neophyte again, to elaborate that it's not to do with Terezi that things was being as they is. But he doesn't really get the Neophyte too well either and it's far easier to reach for her hand, squeeze, and let the sorrowful thoughts settle.
His quiet first breaks with a laugh. It spills out and makes his smile brighten. It's a flat humor but it's good all for him anyways.]
That would most mother fuckin certainly be impressive and not any manner of desperation move, that. Talk so much of I all the time already. [He winds his fingers with hers, in so much as that's being possible.] And you'd have all the best sort. Save a few Beforan. I'd read your writ. You should tell about my matesprit. She's a miracle, don't you know. She can do anything. That's where the real wonder's being to lay.
[He kisses the back of her hand, hopping briefly back into solemnity as he says:] Perhaps I should tell you of the other shade of your ancestor some time, back in her younger days Beforan. If you'd like that. I don't know what she'd say to being spoken of... [But he doesn't think she'll ever be here to say no. His friends as he knew them were very, very dead.] Or you could make writ to the Neophyte yourself. She's in that place, Midnight. Just warn she can be... terse. And unfriendly-like, as us ancestors is seeming to be. But maybe you'd be getting through.
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Date: 2017-03-24 06:48 am (UTC)He definitely is making sure not to say that that's being the kind of ancestor her doesn't want to be. He's had his real and self-imposed isolations. He's seen her sadness. He doesn't want to cause something like that. But again, that requires Gamzee caring first.
He thinks to explain the Neophyte again, to elaborate that it's not to do with Terezi that things was being as they is. But he doesn't really get the Neophyte too well either and it's far easier to reach for her hand, squeeze, and let the sorrowful thoughts settle.
His quiet first breaks with a laugh. It spills out and makes his smile brighten. It's a flat humor but it's good all for him anyways.]
That would most mother fuckin certainly be impressive and not any manner of desperation move, that. Talk so much of I all the time already. [He winds his fingers with hers, in so much as that's being possible.] And you'd have all the best sort. Save a few Beforan. I'd read your writ. You should tell about my matesprit. She's a miracle, don't you know. She can do anything. That's where the real wonder's being to lay.
[He kisses the back of her hand, hopping briefly back into solemnity as he says:] Perhaps I should tell you of the other shade of your ancestor some time, back in her younger days Beforan. If you'd like that. I don't know what she'd say to being spoken of... [But he doesn't think she'll ever be here to say no. His friends as he knew them were very, very dead.] Or you could make writ to the Neophyte yourself. She's in that place, Midnight. Just warn she can be... terse. And unfriendly-like, as us ancestors is seeming to be. But maybe you'd be getting through.