єllєru (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
birdical) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
redshiftlogs2021-02-22 05:47 pm
birdical) wrote in redshiftlogs2021-02-22 05:47 pm
Entry tags:
Owner of a Lonely Heart
Who: Elleru (birdical) & Qubit (superposition)
What: A giant bird and a giant nerd talk about relationships.
When: Late February
Where: The Park
Warnings: Talk about sexuality! Given Elleru's cultural naivety, some of it might be less than PC.
Sitting in the park is nothing new for Elleru, though it's not often she's out and about in her natural form. She's fallen back into it more and more as of late, finding comfort in it; even now, where she could be lying on her back in her upright guise to stare at the sky, she instead cranes her broad neck as high as it will go, watching the stars above. They're the same stars she once watched with Rey, gazing at their seemingly endless number as one or two streaked across the vast void of space. They were beautiful — both the stars and themselves.
She sits on her own now. It's lonely, and that's a feeling she's not accustomed to.
Normally, Elleru would seek out company, true to her gregarious nature; however, she's been trying to face that discomfort head on to better learn about it, and more importantly, how to deal with it. Doing otherwise would be cowardice, she's convinced herself, even if it would be more familiar. She spent most of her life in her colony, surrounded by others of her kind. She had her fellow shifters, practically sisters in their bond; she had the Hen, a kind soul to them all; she had her tryst and her upright she met in secret. She had the town nearby she could watch from a distance, and dream about mingling with the people there. They were a commodity; an interest she could abandon, if she so chose.
But now the uprights are all she has, and losing one who meant so much to her stings in a way she wasn't prepared for. Soothing the ache is harder than anticipated. Maybe she just needs some help after all, she decides. She had encouraged Rey to connect with others; who is she to not do the same in her time of need?
She considers calling the only other person in Anchor who understands her as well as Rey did, but rethinks it when she spots Qubit meandering into the park. They're not as close as she'd like; from what she's observed, he tends to keep his true self away from others. He must know how to deal with being on his own, she thinks.
To that end, she looks his way, her eyes affixed on him in the light of the evening, and warbles invitingly.
birdical) & Qubit (superposition)What: A giant bird and a giant nerd talk about relationships.
When: Late February
Where: The Park
Warnings: Talk about sexuality! Given Elleru's cultural naivety, some of it might be less than PC.
Sitting in the park is nothing new for Elleru, though it's not often she's out and about in her natural form. She's fallen back into it more and more as of late, finding comfort in it; even now, where she could be lying on her back in her upright guise to stare at the sky, she instead cranes her broad neck as high as it will go, watching the stars above. They're the same stars she once watched with Rey, gazing at their seemingly endless number as one or two streaked across the vast void of space. They were beautiful — both the stars and themselves.
She sits on her own now. It's lonely, and that's a feeling she's not accustomed to.
Normally, Elleru would seek out company, true to her gregarious nature; however, she's been trying to face that discomfort head on to better learn about it, and more importantly, how to deal with it. Doing otherwise would be cowardice, she's convinced herself, even if it would be more familiar. She spent most of her life in her colony, surrounded by others of her kind. She had her fellow shifters, practically sisters in their bond; she had the Hen, a kind soul to them all; she had her tryst and her upright she met in secret. She had the town nearby she could watch from a distance, and dream about mingling with the people there. They were a commodity; an interest she could abandon, if she so chose.
But now the uprights are all she has, and losing one who meant so much to her stings in a way she wasn't prepared for. Soothing the ache is harder than anticipated. Maybe she just needs some help after all, she decides. She had encouraged Rey to connect with others; who is she to not do the same in her time of need?
She considers calling the only other person in Anchor who understands her as well as Rey did, but rethinks it when she spots Qubit meandering into the park. They're not as close as she'd like; from what she's observed, he tends to keep his true self away from others. He must know how to deal with being on his own, she thinks.
To that end, she looks his way, her eyes affixed on him in the light of the evening, and warbles invitingly.