caughtinanetwork | Sermon Two

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Sermon Two

[Signless has chosen his location carefully; when he turns on the video function, there's a wall of water behind him, and a school of brightly colored tropical fish swimming past. He's very clearly in the bubble again.]

My friends, today I want to talk to you about fear.

[His voice is low and soothing, his story-telling voice.]

I have known great fear in my time. In my world, the color of my blood was a source of fear, something that drove me into hiding for a long time. Then, when I dreamed of the world that could be, rather than the world that was, I was afraid again... afraid that I would never see what I knew we were capable of come to pass. I was afraid to speak out, afraid to make a ripple in the still, stagnant waters of our society, and tried instead to live my meager little life underneath the notice of the highbloods.

But then I saw what my silence was doing, what those in similar positions were suffering, and I knew I could not stay silent. I could not sit idly by while our world rotted away from its very core, while its corruption bled away the talents and very lives of so many trolls who had done nothing beyond being hatched the wrong color. I could not wait for another to come along and demand change, or I would wait the rest of my life. I needed to cast aside my fear, to find a reserve of strength within me, and rise to what my world needed me to be.

[His voice falls, becoming hushed and soft, almost painfully honest, and he looks down, his cloak hiding his eyes.]

I was terrified. Casting off fear is one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Fear is something I knew, its cold comfort as familiar to me as my guardian's face. It would have been... easy to live my entire life in fear, I thought.

[He looks up then, and his eyes are burning, his voice strong once more.]

I thought that fear was a cloak to hide me, but it was a chain I wore around my neck. When the fear was gone, when I made the decision to cast it aside, I have never felt so free in my entire life. It was how I imagine it must feel to wake up one morning with wings, and look out the window into an endless sky. When the fear was gone, I could breathe a deep breath for the first time in my life, and look to the future not as an ominous, foreboding thing, but as a path bathed in light and redemption.

I am not afraid any longer, Vatheon. This is my home now, and it is worth fighting for. I will not be driven out of my home again. I will not let fear control me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Darkleer doesn't know what to say either. He's never really... had anyone guide him through this himself. No one to say he wasn't freakish. It was simply glossed over when it was. Who could he ever go to who would listen to his insecurities, that he could trust?]

D --> You're not
D --> You're not a freak, I mean to say
D --> Mutations are common enough
D --> And
D --> It certainly means something for the children
D --> For their time
D --> From what I understand, the possession of wings means you've accomplished something few others have
D --> Done something amazing
D --> And
D --> You are amazing Lysunder

[Shit don't.]

[Don't say that.]

[Don't be who you are and say that to him. It is just something entirely different seeing blue text say that, not even Mindfang said anything like that to him. They were close but it was always a 'bro' kind of close, shoulder punches and the like...]

[Shit, he has to actually, stop himself from tearing up, he can feel his eyes glass over.]

oKAY.
yOU CAN,
sEND dURAL TO F1ND ME.

D --> Alright
D --> Stay safe

[That... That went well? He thinks? He's never had to deal with someone who's so fragile underneath it all like this, not knowing how to deal with quadrants and being scared like this and... He's never had someone handle himself, what is he supposed to do for this?]

[But Summoner is letting him go find him so...]

[After making sure that everything is set in his hive, Darkleer sets off. Soon enough, he sees a familiar white form high in the sky, and he lets out a whistle to her. Dural twists about in the air, all light grace, and they're off.]

[He just waits in the tree, quiet, staring at his SFC. After a bit of just sitting and trying not to think about it he's feeling better, but he still remembers to keep his eyes open for Dural.]

[He doesn't start a commune with her, his last he had ended not too long ago, and besides, he figures she'll see him once she starts to fly over the woods, he usually likes to sit in the same tree, one of the tallest. Summoner'd be right too, because eventually he sees the white bird from afar. Though he doesn't move yet, just sits, waits for them to near enough to actually hover his way down past the canopy and to the ground.]

[A trilling little song comes from Dural when she sees him, and she dives down into the canopy when he does. Worried coos come from he, but she doesn't immediately go to land on him and fuss. She knows the situation, really. This is for Darkleer to figure out.]

[He takes a few minutes longer in arriving, and when he does, he pauses, gathering his words.]

If you sit down... I can take a look. If you want me to.

[Hesitant before he finally rises from the branch, his wings make subtle creaking sounds as they lift him to the air and Summoner's face becomes hardened, jaw tightening from the pain, but he says nothing as he drifts down to the ground, landing quietly. Once he finally does land, his wings don't close but stay fully open, eyes trailing to Darkleer, trying to smile, but this meet is far more terrifying to him than one would expect.]

Right...

Uh. [Breath.] How well do you know of a invertebrates? And the differences between indirect and direct flight? Are you familiar with the inner workings of wing joints and know the axillary units well? I think the humeral plate might be shifted but I don't know, and, and I'm not sure but I can't really feel the third axillary at all.

[He's babbling, because... because damnit this is really nerve wracking for him. He doesn't want to say he doesn't trust him, but he doesn't really trust anyone with this, not really.]

[And Darkleer lets him.]

[He just quietly approaches as that flurry of words goes on, removing his glasses and storing them away so that Summoner can see him bare. When the hurried rush finally lets him get a word in edgewise, Darkleer simply holds his hand out.]

I believe I'll manage. Come.

[He can't help the small step back he does, it's instant at seeing the hand approach. But he stops after and trails his eyes up to Darkleer's. A swallow, closing his eyes for a short while before turning around and sitting down. He takes out a knife and slices the wrappings on his chest. They were, for a man trying to wrap something protruding from his back, rather well put on, cradling the connection points of his wings. But they fall down and he pulls them aside, his wings staying open, the low sections folding along the ground on either side behind him.]

[It's pretty easy to see what he was talking about before. One of the wings seems fine, but the other doesn't open as much, and when looking at his back, the raised and plated surface where the wounded wing connects has some shifted units, plates torn from the flesh slightly, off set. Without the bandages they start to bleed a little and Summoner takes in a deep breath, hands wringing the cloth of his pants near his ankle as he flexes the muscles in his back, exposing the joint section more.]

[For a troll who has quickly set about repairing all manner of robotics and injured trolls in record time throughout his long life, it's an easy matter to see the spot just what has happened. He takes it all in, mind working like the machine he's practically made it. How to help it, fix the damage that's been done... With that going on, he takes a few steps more forward...]

[And then right around, as if ignoring the wings. Kneeling down in front of Summoner, Darkleer reaches out and calmly takes him by the chin. Leaning in, he presses their foreheads together.]

Everything is going to be alright. I won't hurt you.

[His eyes search quickly, trying his best not to emote as he watches him kneel down, almost recoiling before Darkleer puts a hand out and grasps his chin. Summoner stays quiet, feeling the cool touch of the blueblood's forehead against his own. Summoner's nostrils flare and he can feel a heat rise up in his face, eyes searching Darkleer's face before he manages a small nod, his hands loosening from the frayed red of his pants was gripping not just before.]

Okay.

[Darkleer stays there for a moment longer, amazed slightly at how warm Summoner's skin is against his. It still catches him by surprise, really. His thumb sweeps across his jaw and then he pulls back. This is a big deal, he knows. It makes his heart nearly twist in pity and love for the other troll.]

I'm sure you can underhand the technical terms well enough, given your eloquence before, but a visual representation may do you a bit better.

[Pulling out his communicator, he moves back behind Summoner and records the damage done with it. Afterwards, he hands it over to him.]

You were right. Some of the plates did shift.

[Summoner allows himself to enjoy the cool touch as well. He enjoys being warm most of the time, but sometimes it feels like he could just burst into fire, or melt from the heat. The cold skin to his is distracting him from the pain and worry for a short while before Darkleer pulls away.]

[Darkleer's decision to tape the damage on Summoner's back, while in a way kind of freaks him out to have to see, also really settles his nerves some how. Seeing the damage for himself to know exactly what's going on, it's reassuring and Summoner spend a good amount of time staring at his own SFC before finally nodding.]

What would you like to do about it then?

[This is the sure way to reassure the other. Let him have more control of the situation, let him know what's happened, let him decide.]

[Darkleer? He simply sits besides him, watching his expression.]

[Quiet for a moment, hand to his mouth, Summoner's nervous, worried, he doesn't want it to heal wrong... but-]

Just... make sure the plates are in their proper positions, and uh check... for any signs on infection.

[His tone is worried, strained, and the more he thinks about it the more nervous he gets, wings slightly shaking behind him.]

Of course.

[But he doesn't rush to do that. Instead, he reaches out again, cupping Lysunder's cheek.]

Just calm down. Focus on your breathing.

Uh, right, sorry. [Swallows, a shaking hand going up to place itself on the outside of Darkleer's, his eyes closing, taking a deep breath in.]

I just, don't... don't do this. No one ever touches my wings like this, except Legs. And even then, she never- [Another deep breath, as if trying to stop himself from hyperventilating, fingers curling around Darkleer's hand.] -really inspected them... not like this.

It's alright. I can understand. Quiet now. Just focus on breathing.

[His tone stays the same as usual, so sturdily calm and quiet. With Summoner's hand over his, Darkleer pulls his back so he can link their hands together.]

[Locking his jaw, eyes weary, he slowly closes them and just nods, enjoying the cool against his face and hand before Darkleer pulls his away. Summoner keeps his hand with it manages a small smile when he feels the other troll weave their fingers.]

You think- uh- [Stops, wings twitching slightly, holding onto Darkleer's hand tightly.] -After... this, and after I wrap myself back up, we could, uh... [Face warms up slightly, dusting copper, eyes staying closed.] Just... sit for a while?

I think I would like that.

[And he really really would.]

[But right now, he has something to enjoy, and that is the sight of Summoner's flushed just slightly. All the people in the bubble, and he's one of the few who can get this confident fool so embarrassed. It's a fact Darkleer takes some amount of pleasure in.]

[For now, he just remains seated, comforted by their linked hands.]

[His lips reluctantly turn up into a small smile, dipping his head down, suddenly being aware of the weight of his horns as he grazes a thumb over the other trolls cool flesh. Comforting, he never thought he'd be so comforted by this troll, a blueblood, someone so rigid and at times... servile, it was frustrating when he saw Darkleer so easily comply to the will of those he thought to be 'higher'. Certain things could so easily turn him off to Darkleer's presence, but for some reason they didn't. Even in this current vulnerability, he felt pity for him. Such a strong troll, who holds so much power, how he lets himself wallow.]

[A deep breath, holding his hand still, still worried about his wings, his wings her cares so much for, and... Darkleer seems to feel the same about them, even if they aren't his. Aren't his own appendages. Lysunder's ears flick, remembering something Dural said.]

What- what do you think of them?

[Darkleer is lost in his own thoughts in the silence. It's been a while since they've had such a quiet moment between one another. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy them. There's certainly a lot to love, but it's quiet moments like these that are truly where he can see all the ways to pity him. It's a fresh, welcoming reminder every time, only now he's more aware of it than ever. More aware than just acknowledging the crack in what everyone else could see as a reckless and foolish braggart of an orangeblood.]

[The question catches him a bit off-guard, and Darkleer blinks as he looks up.]

What I think of them? [It's obvious he doesn't quite know where the conversation is going. In the trees, Dural gives a satisfied coo.] Do you mean your wings?

[Another ear twitch, he heard that, Dural, suddenly getting a bit brighter orange as he opens his mouth, closing it again as he finds the words.]

Yes.

[All he manages, slightly hating that only a single word left, the trees doing more speaking as they rustle and move about them. Summoner's eyes open just slightly, looking down to the ground before finally flicking up to look at Darkleer, expression shy. Oh, he'd curse himself if he could see his own face right now. But... he's honestly interested, interested in what the other has to say, Darkleer's opinion felt like... it felt like it was important. And for some reason 'freak' still echoes in his think pan. He wants to drown it out.]

[The advantage of his glasses is that they allow him to stare as long as he likes without it being too strange. This almost feels like a test of some sort, but one that he wants to genuinely succeed in. That expression on his face makes him want to succeed.]

[Once his heart has stopped fluttering and his thoughts have smoothed out into something of an orderly fashion, Darkleer begins to quietly answer.]

I think... they are rather beautiful, truth be told. The anatomy of any living things, whether troll or horse or insect, is always amazing in some way. There are so many things a body is capable of, even at its most basic nature with no mechanical or psionic modifications, no mutation... It can do and go through so much.

[He's starting to light up again, just like when Summoner asked him long ago about what he was working on. Without really thinking about it, he leans in closer.]

Nature is amazing. Almost any kind of technology we've developed, somewhere, whether on Alternia or in some other planet entirely, some plant or animal or little bacteria no one has even thought about has done it first, sometimes even better! Just look at insect wings, at your kind of wings- [A brief, fluttering gesture to them.]

Do you know how many sweeps it took for trolls to understand the science behind the way the wings of insects worked? Actual perfect knowledge, not just vague ideas? Lifetimes, even for highbloods, and all that time, they were, more or less, the only invertebrates capable of flight, and they performed fantastically, still do!

[A pause to catch his breath, and his face is dusted blue now as well, a sign of his excitement about the subject.]

And you have such marvelous examples of flight for yourself... All those complex veins, the joints, everything, it's amazing.

Even the color adds to the beauty of it. Just- it adds to you, you're always so eyecatching and wanting people's eyes to be on you, and it is as if you body has the same ideas, filled with that starfire that you're apparently made of. And- And it does do something, it's simply proven scientific fact that colors have an effect on an individual's emotional and mental state, no matter how low or high the color is according to the hemospectrum. The Empress herself could deny it and try to make such facts 'illegal', but science can't be controlled by moral or societal values, it doesn't care about such things! It doesn't care if we don't understand it, it simply does it until we figure it out and keeps going. And what we've figured out about lowblooded colors, about warm colors, is that it tends to, generally, excite us, catch our attention, and you already do that, this almost seems ridiculously excessive, but you somehow fit it, don't make it seem excessive at all except when you're purposefully acting the idiot, which you aren't, we both know that-

[He's babbling. Just a bit. Also grinning, maybe a bit too much, but this is a subject he loves, a subject that's always been close to his heart. Because engineering and nature, they made sense. They were steady and reliable. Not like other trolls. Not like highblood politics or society. Technology and nature, such two opposites but the two things which made his childhood bearable.]

I should think it goes without mention that you don't care about you're bloodcolor at any rate, and you could not be more obvious about your pride for it if you hung flags from your horns declaring it. The color reminds me just a bit of the fireflies in the fields near my hive when I was young, as well, although I suppose you have the advantage of not lighting up from your posterior, which would be a much more unfortunate kind of mutation, I do not think that needs to be made any more obvious-

-And I really do not need to be any more blatant in my babbling, my apologies.

[He finally caught on and coughs into his fist, pulling back. His expression settles back to the usual.]

I really should check on the damage for your wing.

[O-oh...]

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