gratitude: (06. what do you go home to?)
rion "the quiet one" lyon ([personal profile] gratitude) wrote in [community profile] empatheias_ooc 2016-10-19 06:32 am (UTC)

rion lyon: oc

A.

[ one of the things that he'd picked up on almost immediately was how emotions worked in this place. it was something he'd dreamed about being true, something that he thought would be really cool - emotions taking physical form, being reflected not just in a person's facial expression, but in the very environment around them.

the thought had occured to him, though, that it would be neat if you could sort of decide how things would manifest themselves, and it was something that he felt like could be done. maybe should be done; it felt like the kind of thing he ought to do, in fact.

so the boy (who, from behind, can be mistaken for a girl) has set himself up in the park. since he's in a good mood, his happiness has opted to manifest itself as lights like will-o-wisps, dancing around him. his eyes are carefully focused on one, and he's looking as intent as one can as a fifteen year old boy, like this is a life or death situation.

the light bobs, weaves, and then - for the briefest of moments - flickers, like it went from giving off a light the color of natural sunlight to a fluorescent, almost harsh light, before going back to normal. since he's pretty sure nobody's looking to see him be such a gigantic dork, he fistpumps in an overexaggerated motion - YES. HE DID IT!!! LOOK!!! IT'S NOT MUCH BUT MAYBE YOU CAN DO WEIRD STUFF WITH ALL THIS EMOTION!!!

... this is followed immediately by looking around to make sure nobody was actually paying attention to him, because he will be embarrassed forever if somebody saw that.]




C.

[ 'telepathy', huh. this was also the sort of thing that he'd dreamed about. rion enjoyed signing to people, the little things you could do with sign language that weren't as immediately obvious in spoken word, but sometimes (okay, a lot of the time) it would be nice if he could just say what he meant. telepathy would solve all of that, even though he wouldn't really want anyone... like, probing his thoughts.

deep breath. here we go. give it a try. his face is scrunched up in exaggerated, totally unnecessary concentration--]


Can anyo-

[ he jumps almost to the sky in shock. perhaps not that far, but it's a leap of surprise that must be augmented by emotion, because he looked like a tiny michael jordan there. holy crap, did that just- ]

I- I can hear me! Holy crap this is so cool I'm hearing my own voice even though I can't talk! [ he's still talking after that, mind, but it has basically devolved into just noises, almost like what you'd expect from a baby who still has not figured out how language works. they are the most delighted noises you can possibly imagine. he has not, in fact, figured out that he's still transmitting these to everyone around. ]

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