nexus_crossings | +1 Half-Alien Artist

+1 Half-Alien Artist

When the Morpho touches down on the furthest outskirts, the ship itself seems only large enough for two people. If he isn't bothered then and there, he can be found wandering about, clad entirely in his latex-like flight suit and a gossamer mask he's made, comprised supposedly of intricately-woven spider thread.

He can easily be found out and about, sketchpad and an old pencil in hand as he draws what he sees. It's late enough in the evening that he arrives. He's mindful to keep distance from anyone in the area, to the point of exhibiting avoidant behavior unless they deliberately approach him.

Should he even stay here? Should he just go again?

For the most part, he only wanders about the outskirts and wilds. Nowhere in a closed space.

Maybe it's wrong to come here, anyway. But so long as he continues to observe his strict cleaning regimen, and physically distances to keep the temptation to interact with others down, there's no risk. He can treat this just like any other planetary observance. It's worked in keeping himself and others safe for two centuries now. It'll work here, too.

Regardless of where he's found, he's surprised when someone gets too close to his self-enforced distance. Even if they're familiar, he doesn't recognize them at first, shoulders hunched and head tucked downward.

"Ah-- I'm sorry, could you please take a few steps back?"

[ooc: For those I've threaded with before, you're welcome to have your character remember Glenn! If so, please let me know, so I can adjust Glenn's reactions to match. :) Furthermore, please feel free to use whatever writing style/tense you prefer; I'll match it.]

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"I am fine, and still observing quarantine protocol," he replies, looking torn between guilt and stubbornness.

"I have visited countless planets that are equally susceptible to me, and each time, I have left those planets without spreading my condition. And I have even interacted with different races for a prolonged period, and still not inflicted anyone with the contagion. I even checked their cells. Unless I take off my suit, they are safe. There was even a time where my cells were the most volatile, in my youth, and I never infected my mother with my cells, in spite of doing so many things that would guarantee exposure to it."

Glenn's gaze hardens, but there's definitely some fear in there.

"When we spoke, I-- was predominantly just worried about losing your friendship. I could think of little else but-- appeasing you, and... was afraid to acknowledge my own personal experiences on the matter, in case it conflicted with your world view, and... I h-hate disappointing people."

He shudders, but manages to briefly look Megatron in the eye. Even though his hands and knees are shaking. His voice strains from the sharp surge in his emotions, keeping as calm as he can be without shouting.

"I am t-treating this place with both care and distance. Just like I've treated other places for the past two and a half centuries. I w-won't be infecting anyone here, period. J-just because... you're rightfully scared, and have the information I have told you regarding it, d-doesn't mean that you have lived with this shit your whole life. I get it. I really, really do. Why else do you think I have so soundly isolated myself? I'm fucking terrified I'll hurt someone again! Physically, mentally, and biologically!"

Although he looks like he's about to burst into tears, he still holds his ground. Even so, he looks away, not wanting to be perceived as using his emotions against anyone. Even when he thought he was stoic as can be, he's always been rather expressive. Even as he speaks, his voice cracks.

"I'm s-sorry for going back on my word. Just... please. Please trust that I know what I'm doing. Know that your fear of me spreading my condition has been my waking nightmare almost as long as I have been alive. That I am taking absolutely every precaution possible. Because I love people so much, and as equally, wholly, and completely as I loathe myself."

"Glenn," Megatron says quietly, "I never want to hear anyone say that they feel they have to 'appease' me again."

He ex-vents heavily, wincing as if that one single word struck him right through the spark.

"I am aware that you are observing quarantine protocol. I have not even raised my voice to you. I am simply concerned. Not just about this world, not just about this place, not just about my lover and his family, but also...about you. I thought there might be some kind of emergency, because otherwise, I thought, you'd have let me know that you'd changed your mind?"

He winces. "I know I can be terrifying in person, but we were texting. Do I need to start using...emoji?"

He looks a little perturbed at that notion.

"I hope not."

Glenn flinches at the response, sketchpad and pencil dropped to the ground and forgotten. It takes him a moment to sort out Megatron's voice past the ringing in his ears, across the cacophony of instincts telling him that he's done so wrong that he's about to be shoved around.

There's no immediate indication that he's even heard his friend's words, with his mouth struggling to form them in kind over the persistent, loud noises in his own mind.

Some part of him nearly pipes up that, 'yes, emoji would be very helpful to me!' but seeing Megatron's perturbed look makes guilt tear right through him.

Still-- as he finally processes things, which takes a bit, but he does, even with the feelings of shame clobbering him.

"I-I'm sorry. I.. have trouble perceiving... tone.. through text. Without... the occasional.. emoji."

He feels like he's about to choke on his own throat. He reaches up to firmly rub at it to try to soothe the feeling away, but it's not abating. The gesture of it might otherwise appear to be that of actual choking in itself for most humans.

"People.. don't.. have to raise their voices.. for me to hear what isn't there."

"I could...try the emoji thing. It's just that they're all so...cute."

Megatron sighs.

"That's the problem. You're hearing what isn't there. I'm not about to say that I don't have an anger management problem sometimes, but I'm not having it now. I feel like I should apologise, but I'm not exactly sure what I would be apologising for."

"I do not see any reason for you to apologize to me. The... problem was caused by me."

Heart feeling like it might finally start to calm, he also notices that his muscles aren't trembling as much, too.

"I am sorry. For perceiving what wasn't there, for mentally putting words in your mouth that you never said. I will... endeavor to ask you first if I am uncertain. Even if it makes me feel like a burden for inquiring on what must be obvious to most."

He fidgets a little. His suit stretches as he makes a tentacle pick up his sketchpad and pencil, the appendage coiling deftly around both. He holds the pad towards his chest somewhat defensively, feeling exposed and uncertain, but less likely to cry. he makes an effort to make eye contact, irises flickering to Megatron's optical color.

"I appreciate your... your impressive patience with me. And I am sorry for causing you worry."

"It's all right. I know I'm terrifying. I'm just trying to be less so."

Megatron ex-vents. "How about this: I apologise for frightening you. I'll try not to do it again, if you will try to remember that we're friends."

Then he thinks for a moment about Loki's tiny son Eindred. And Cricket's pet, Willie. And realises he actually has managed to turn off the 'I AM LORD MEGATRON, TREMBLE BEFORE ME' field that he managed to pick up during his years as one of the two driving forces of the war that nearly tore the galaxy to bits.

"But I don't think it's all me. Little children and tiny animals aren't even scared of me, lately. I'll put up with cute animations in my texts, and...you'll try to be less easy to spook than a Lillipup?" He holds his hands just far enough apart to hold the pup, if she were present.

Glenn partially wants to scrub his face, and insist that he's not afraid, but that would be a lie. He then tilts his head and raises an eyebrow when he's described as being more frightened than a tiny creature that sounds canine. A puppy? But the inflection makes it sound like it's not just a dog.

But being confused about the name of the creature isn't the point, he realizes.

"...Yeah. I'll-- I'll make the effort to get to that point. Even I know that's just... the starting block."

Every day he lives in fear like this, and then every day gets even more exhausting than the last.

But he can't help but ask, "What's a Lillipup?"

Megatron smiles ruefully. "He also called it a Pokemon. Does that word mean anything to you? But there are lots of different kinds of them."

He projects the image of the creature from his optics into the space between his hands.

"I'm not making fun of you; I'm genuinely concerned about your stress level. Also, she's cute, and maybe seeing her will make you feel better.

"Her name was Willie, and she climbed right up on top of my foot, and bonked my hand with her head when she thought I wasn't petting her enough."

"...The name doesn't, but the lillipup appears similar to a Scottish Terrier in my world."

Glenn takes a moment to process the concept of being near anyone. Even an adorable creature like Willie.

"...This isn't going to make your concern go away; I do not recall a time where I have been without stress in really any capacity."

Even with Clara, he still felt stress regarding his circumstances, and trying to navigate the world without her even when she was alive. He's been alive long enough to know that he has no idea what being without stress, or less stress, even feels like.

There's no doubt that he likely requires professional help, even in his own mind. But when he was alone, the only person it affected was himself. And the majority of himself that believes he deserves it was just fine with it.

Even involving himself with one person, like this, really makes his issues stand out. And further still, what would he be like after managing all these things? Would the current him fade away?

"Willie seems amazing."

"She was really cute. And I don't expect you to be stress-free, Glenn; none of us is."

Megatron shrugs.

"There are people in my universe who want to kill me really badly and I know that whether or not I actually deserve to die, I certainly deserve their hatred. And I still go back there because I have a mission to finish.

"I'm very happy with the person I love, but I'm still learning how and where I fit into my lover's family, and I'm afraid they won't all like me, or... I don't know.

"I'm worried about the friends of mine who took over a political movement I started and completely fouled up and I don't understand why they don't just start over and call it something else that's not associated with all the carnage.

"I have stress in my life...but I'm able to hear what people are actually saying to me, and see what's in their faces. Which is important for you too...because you need to be able to tell the difference between a real threat and your own insecurities."

While Glenn nods, he doesn't feel like Megatron heard him and what he's trying to say. It isn't like he's blind to the fact that everyone has stress. And of course, there are always people who have it worse, or have it easier, or about the same.

That said, he's trying to hear what Megatron is actually saying. Part of him wonders if feeling unheard is false on his head. If he's actually heard and just not seeing it.

Maybe he's blinded. If so, how can he remove that obstacle? Because it's obvious that something is clear to Megatron that's shrouded for him, and maybe he's just all the more flawed for it.

He's also not sure how to respond, either. It doesn't sound like something to reply to.

"May have heard you with some mistakes," he eventually admits. "Trying to read between the lines in instinct. But I am doing my best to hear you as you are."

Actually, nothing is very clear to Megatron right now. Glenn's field is hard to read when he's suited up; Megatron can't touch him; and the humans Megatron is most familiar with (and largely, doesn't like, as opposed to the ones he's met in the Nexus and elsewhere) don't come from Glenn's particular world or culture. All that Megatron has to go on are the words Glenn says, which is why he's confused by phrases like 'without stress.'

"I'm not sure you should be trying to read between the lines. It's the things you've imagined me saying that have scared you, not the things I actually said."

He shrugs. "You're the only member of your species I have ever met and I'm good at reading your field when I'm touching you, but that's not possible right now. I can't distance-read you at all, because you are the only member of your species I have ever met. You're not human, and if I let my instincts take charge, they decide you're a sapient turbofox."

At that, he smiles wryly. "I know a sapient turbofox, although he doesn't know that I know he's a turbofox. The two of you are very, very different beings. I don't think viewing your actions through that particular lens would be wise."

(For just a moment, he looks over his shoulder. Minimus has been in the Nexus, and it would be just his luck if Minimus walked into this conversation and heard him discussing sapient turbofoxes, with a garnish of 'how did you get off the ship and why are you here?' Fortunately, his luck does not appear to be ruling this encounter. There is not a turbofox, sapient or otherwise, watching them talk.)

Edited 2021-01-05 01:54 (UTC)

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+1 Half-Alien Artist

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