[ Johan heard her almost-scream in his head, isn't that strange? As if it was himself or someone living within his mind trembling over a nightmare that even he can taste as being too crisp-clear at the edges to come from one's imagination. The images elude him, but the sentiment is there. Fear. A familiar and most welcome of companions.
He can be patient, waiting below her pod for when she decides to come down, body and mind both quiet, fundamentally passive. Where others broadcast their thoughts, he is turned so deeply inward that his surface serves as an unforgiving mirror to others, with himself buried within, fragmented and left undefined. Befitting the image of a proper gentleman he wears, a dark tie and pressed brown suit with blond hair neatly trimmed, he kneels on one knee and offers her a hand with a smile so cherubic. He even speaks German, perfectly poised: ]
WAKE UP. this is terrible and i'm not sorry
He can be patient, waiting below her pod for when she decides to come down, body and mind both quiet, fundamentally passive. Where others broadcast their thoughts, he is turned so deeply inward that his surface serves as an unforgiving mirror to others, with himself buried within, fragmented and left undefined. Befitting the image of a proper gentleman he wears, a dark tie and pressed brown suit with blond hair neatly trimmed, he kneels on one knee and offers her a hand with a smile so cherubic. He even speaks German, perfectly poised: ]
Are you hurt?