#tb:sigma

[notevenjupiter]

"I'm back in this bitch, I'm back in this b-"

[notevenjupiter]

“I don’t watch news on television, unless there’s a cat involved.”

[notevenjupiter]

[Someone’s left an attractive basket of chocolate eggs on Sigma and Diana’s front doorstep. It comes with a note, written in small, neat handwriting: “With love, from your alternate-history children.” There’s a picture in the basket as well — a pair of orange-haired twins, their arms around each other’s shoulders. Both look to be in their late teens, and both are smiling. They look... familiar... but it can’t be, can it?]

“Um, Sigma... this.... this is... it can’t...”

“It has to be. I don’t know how it got here, or who left it, but... there’s no mistaking it. The hair, the eyes. It’s... them.”

After a lot of happy crying from both of them - the picture found a new home, on top of the mantle. No matter what may happen in this timeline, both of them know that the family they always dreamed of, the family they never experienced for themselves... it happened, at least once. Nothing could take that from them.

[notevenjupiter]

🐸

“NO, BUT SERIOUSLY, WHAT DO I DO???”

[notevenjupiter]

🕯️ sigma for diana?

🕯️- a romantic, candlelit dinner at home

There were many milestones that these two had missed out on, not for a lack of trying, but for impossibly unfortunate events. Sigma’s first memory of Diana was meeting her in a small, grey room, only minutes after an atomic bomb had gone off in the distance. They were soon to fall in love, passionately, madly in love, but there was no time for wining or dining, and not even a quick trip to the movies. Almost immediately, he was consumed in his work, and as much as she wanted to help him, her own body soon failed her. After spending three years by her side, he spent more than forty years without her.

Now that he had another chance - back in his original body, in a much better world, under much better circumstances - he wasn’t going to take anything for granted. She may have made the meal, but he insisted on providing the ambiance. Dimly-lit candles, white tablecloth, purple daises as the centerpiece, and a roaring fireplace behind them. The table itself was fairly small, allowing him to easily reach over and take her hands in his.

“Diana.”

His voice was calm, and his visage betrayed little emotion, but on the inside, his heart was all aflame. His chest felt as he was going to melt. Even after nearly five decades of work… he couldn’t believe that this moment was real. He could scarcely believe that she was real. 

Words failed him. He’d planned some kind of grand, romantic speech, but all he could do was stare directly into her eyes, her kind, perfect eyes, and hold himself back from weeping. But, even if his emotional repression refused to let him even smile… he was happy. Immensely happy, immeasurably happy. It was an overwhelming happiness, and he no longer cared if it consumed him.

It was all worth it.

[notevenjupiter]

“I want to know what makes you angry.” for SIGMA.

“You want to know why I’m angry? You want to know what pisses me off? You really want to know? Well. Look at this.”

“You see this frog? You see this frog?! I don’t know what to do with it! I found this frog, and I just don’t know what to do with it!”

[notevenjupiter]

@convivxncia​ - continued from here!

“Hmm...”

Sigma stared at her for a small moment, then up to the mannequins on the upper row. Everything was so lifelike... he could barely tell the difference between the dolls and the other humans in the room, other than the dolls’ complete lack of motion.

He walked to the painting, which had been bothering him ever since Joe pointed it out. Just to make sure, he gave it another tug, trying to dislodge it from the wall, but... it was stuck on there tight. No dice.

“I’m not seeing anything else out here. Have you found anything by the chairs?”

[notevenjupiter]

❝Sigma. Tell me something fun and fresh.❞

“Have you ever thought much about termites? There’s over 3,000 species of termites in the world, some of which date back hundreds of millions of years. One single nature reserve in South Africa has more than one million termite mounds. Each of these mounds are structurally sound; the termite is one of nature’s greatest architects. 

If you go down to the termite’s level and see things through its eyes, I doubt any individual termite has the faintest idea of what it’s helping to create. The termite is an oblivious cog in a tremendous machine programmed by millions of years of termite DNA. But when we see things through a human’s eyes, we can see the splendid planning of their structures, the beauty of their functionality. Few things on this planet are like the termite mound.

I think that’s fairly fun and fresh. Day Trip took it to ten, hey.”