Owner of a Lonely Heart

[birdical]

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.

Comments

[superposition]

He shrugs. "It's not impossible, but that would essentially limit the dating pool to my colleagues. A few of them did pair off, in fact, and good for them, but..."

But we've seen how that turned out. Rule 1: Don't date your coworkers. Rule 2: Don't date superheroes. Rule 3: Don't date your superhero coworkers.

[birdical]

Elleru frowns. "It did not go well," she correctly assumes. How unfortunate, but that's just how romance sometimes goes.

So she comes to the next logical suggestion: "You could protect them, could you not?"

[superposition]

In spite of himself, Qubit lets out an unvoiced laugh. You'd think so, right?

"Maybe. But indefinitely? From everything?" He shakes his head.

[birdical]

Another point. Elleru rubs her beak on the grass with a bit more fervor, determined to make this hypothetical romance work. She's so certain it must — one can't simply let their lifestyle get in the way of love, can they? Not with all the wondrous determination she knows uprights are capable of.

"What if they believe such danger is worth being with you?"

[superposition]

"Well, in that case, I'd have serious questions about her judgment," he quips.

But... Carlisle comes to mind again. Didn't Qubit ask him essentially the same question, some time ago? And Carlisle gave essentially the same answer - anyone who valued him over their own safety was either foolish or selfish.

Different context, though. What Carlisle envied about his "other self" wasn't his love life, it was his life. He can't help being somewhat dangerous to those around him, just due to the nature of his existence. Qubit, by contrast, is dangerous because of what he does, not what he is. He may not be suited to a normal life, but there's nothing preventing him from having a life.

After a second, he makes a noncommittal gesture and offers Elleru a serious answer. "I don't know. I suppose I'd cross that bridge if I ever came to it, but in all honesty, it's never come up. It's not as if I had throngs of women swooning at my feet - in fact, you're the first in recent memory who's shown anything approaching genuine interest."

He seems pretty casual about it, though inwardly he can't help feeling a touch of chagrin. Naturally he'd have spurned any such advances anyway, because he is a strong independent man with no time for frivolity. Naturally. But, you know, it might have been nice to hear someone say he looked nice once in a while.

[birdical]

It's a good thing Qubit thinks compliments are nice to hear, because chances are high that he's about to get one. Shaking some loose grass from her mane, Elleru sits up, her head moving as she visibly studies him without the slightest bit of consideration as to whether or not he wants to be scrutinized in such a way. She cranes her neck one way, then the other before giving her assessment.

"That is curious!" she chirps brightly. "Do the uprights of your world not see what they have?"

[superposition]

Elleru, please. Qubit laughs, giving her neck a playful shove. Modesty may be a virtue, but his ego is all too happy to soak up flattery whenever it's offered.

"Apparently not! No accounting for taste, I guess," he exclaims with mock grandiosity. "It's the hair, I think. People are always giving me grief about the hair."

[birdical]

Elleru lets out a playful thrum as Qubit pushes her away, her laughter more birdlike in her natural form; it rumbles heavily in her throat, giving her voice an melodic trill.

"It is fine hair," she insists. "But you are in need of preening."

Undeterred, she arcs her long neck his way again and immediately tries to tousle his hair with her beak. While forgoing all sense of personal boundaries is an affront to most uprights, she can't help but fall back into the social mannerisms of her kind when she's in a good mood. It seems Qubit has thoroughly taken her mind off her troubles for the moment.

[superposition]

Oh, shit. "Don't you dare!" He throws his hands up to protect the quiff, ducking away from her beak in such a hurry that he loses his balance and ends up flat on his back in the grass.

[birdical]

Smirking as he falls, she allows him to protect his hair, and instead uses the tip of her beak to straighten his lapels after he hits the ground. She's seen the way he does it plenty of times, as though it would help his composure to fix his clothes. As for why he gets so flustered and loses said composure with her on occasion, that's a mystery.

... Or maybe she knows, and simply loves to tease. Either way, she appreciates being able to laugh again after she's been so down, and she tries to reciprocate his kindness, albeit in her own way.

"You are so focused on your looks. Your hair and your color. Is that why? Because you are given grief?"

[superposition]

Thankfully, she doesn't continue going after his hair - her beak only pursues him to straighten his coat, which he allows, laughing bemusedly. He smooths out his shirt, but then rests his hands behind his head rather than bother getting up. Better view of the sky from here, anyway.

"My color-? Oh, the green." He glances down at his outfit - nothing fancy today, just a solid green turtleneck - before turning his gaze upward again, pondering the question briefly.

Eventually he replies, "It isn't solely to avoid criticism. Though there is a grain of truth there - image matters, especially when you work in the public eye. People care about appearances, sometimes even to the exclusion of substance. Now, is that superficial? Absolutely - but if they only know you superficially, what else do they really have to go on?"

[birdical]

Elleru brings her head to rest near Qubit's arm. While he may avoid most physical contact, she thrives on it, finds comfort in the closeness. As such, she can't help but let her ear graze his sleeve as she lies next to him.

"I understand," she assures. "Appearances matter, especially when you must present yourself in a certain way. Could you not be yourself, Qubit?"

Because she understands what that's like, too.

[superposition]

Oddly enough, even though Qubit clearly notices her ear flicking against his arm, he makes no attempt to do anything about it. No withdrawing, no brushing her away, not even grimacing. To all appearances, he seems... fine with it. Weird.

The query, though, brings a slow frown to his face. "Now there's a loaded question," he mutters. And his gut answer, equally loaded - Be careful what you wish for. He decides against voicing it, though, and instead answers her (once again) with another question.

"What does that mean to you, Elleru? 'Being yourself?'"

[birdical]

Qubit may feel that ear flick against him as Elleru considers his question, and more importantly, her answer for it. "I suppose it is... being who I want to be. I am gifted, and therefore, certain responsibilities are mine. I am proud of that."

There's a definite but coming; she sighs, the sound heavy in her throat.

"But I wanted to find out who I was beyond my colony, as well. I am not just Kaulahren, but Elleru. I have wants, and I have needs that are my own."

[superposition]

"Hm. So in other words, expressing your identity as an individual, outside the context of your societal role. Is that right?"

It makes sense, given what he knows of her culture. Kaulahren society is rigidly hierarchical, essentially a caste system. As a priestess, Elleru sat very near the top of said hierarchy, but that doesn't mean it constrained her any less. As she said, status confers its own responsibilities - for example, that of subordinating her own interests to those of the colony.

Qubit's origin may be very different from hers, but the clash between uniqueness and conformity is a common thread in nearly every culture he's familiar with, human or no. Some societies have arrived at a firmer answer to the question than others (hive minds, for instance, exhibit collectivism in the far extreme), but most exist somewhere in the middle - or even contradict themselves. Imagine a society that blithely sings the praises of the individual, while simultaneously hammering down any nail that sticks out too far. That would just be maddening, wouldn't it?

... Anyway, they're not talking cultural relativism at the moment. The point is, when she asks, Could you not be yourself? she's really asking whether he was constrained by his position, like she was. Past tense, not a hypothetical.

"In that sense, it's not quite the same," he says. "For me, my role and responsibilities were all self-imposed. Our team was the first of its kind, you see, so the expectations placed on us were..." He waves his hand, searching. "That is, we had plenty of latitude for self-expression. They were expectations of behavior more than appearance."

[birdical]

Elleru nods at his question, listening intently as Qubit continues. If there's one thing she appreciates about uprights, it's that they have self-expression in abundance. They can choose so much of how they look, from their hair to their clothing, with every facet of their appearance informing others of not just who they are, but who they've chosen to be. That's where the difference lies between her kind and the uprights: the self-expression of the kaulahren is often stifling, and while she may have been special in comparison to the rest of her kind... she was ultimately her status and purpose before an individual.

"You care about your appearance because others care," she assesses. There's more to it, she's sure, but she'll leave it for now. "But what did these others expect of you? Were you a bad boy, Qubit?"

She doesn't imagine so, if her teasing tone is any indication, but she can't help herself. Perhaps she's a bit like Qubit in that way, preferring to learn about him than about her own doubts.