" you're staring , " the star's golden hues rest on the ' good doctor ' as she slightly narrows them. her chest cavity completely open , partially
vivisected ( how ? did she do it herself ? perhaps ) to hold in the palms of her hands her celestial core ; a glowing bright sphere of a thing as energy drips between her fingers. " you're a scholar are you not ? here .. be the only one to have eyes on a discovery that is quite literally out of this world. " / HERE HAVE THIS .... LUMINE .........
𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 & 𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 the shackles of fate finally become broken, all redundant criticism erased, restrictions lifted & the very life zadnik once dreamed about, the very glimpse of it, at long last turned to reality. most humans have no hope of experiencing a single miracle throughout their lifetimes. in dottore's case, however, that moment certainly came to him in most unexpected of ways. ❝ . . . . ?! ❞ the vermilion eyes grow wide behind the visor, their mechanical irises thinning like those of a snake from sheer disbelief. this is lumine... isn't it? no, of course it is, the doctor rationalises, without words examining the smiling young woman & her oozing cavity, absorbing such a remarkable sight to every last of its wrongness.
even with a shimmering puddle forming at her feet, lumine is still the very image of pure radiance ── golden-tressed, ghostly pale & perfectly ageless, always wearing that lone inteyvat flower like a heirloom ── a divine being in her own right. oh, words cannot express how she & the fateful star tempt him, becoming drawn like hades was once to persephone. the logical side, the more reasonable side of him warns against approaching so directly, to take his time as one does with dangerous things & proceed to examine with greater caution but, the other... ? the more reckless, hungry side? to hell with it all, it says, because he needs her. not desires, not lusts: needs. a necessity so great that it shows even in him, the one who always claimed to be most perceptive of them all, just to release a slow, shallow breath which he never realized he was holding.
❝ why.... ? ❞ why, indeed... ? the world rolls down his wicked tongue with a weight of thousand others. dottore wishes to know why she had done this, why she seems so content ( or is it happy? ) whilst offering up her own heart 'pon a platter. methodically speaking, it makes little to no sense as he finally steps closer, half-cautious & half-beguiled. ❝ how are you── ❞ alive? breathing? functioning? ❝ still... standing? ❞ questions pile 'pon questions like a growing tide & yet there is no sign of slowing down, especially when the space between them continues to shrink with every step taken by the golden heels. the pulsing glow of the star now illuminating the doctor's encroaching form.
it's almost a battle in itself not to grab her right there & then, looking as ethereal & eerie as a piece of heaven dripping all over his laboratory floor but dottore is far from an animal, or a barbarian. he will be patient. he will be respectful, & wait, at least for now. a curtesy given for the wonderous gift she made herself out to be. ❝ it's rather difficult not to stare, when one comes face to face with something so... utterly divine. ❞ does lumine even realize what she is offering here? perhaps. perhaps not. ah, ' reject not the gift of a kind hand, ' or so they say. the doctor forces himself to link both gloved hands behind own slender back & in slow, elegant steps, begin to prowl around the young bleeding woman & her star like the devil. curious. fascinated. starving. ❝ i hope you know that unlike my other segments, i am not the one to easily let go of... once i get my hands on something... ❞
this isn't a warning, but a promise.