#universnm

[martyrbot-a]

✧ - @universnm 💙.

cuddling for the very first time.

IF he had expected anything to come of it all – their talking, the dancing, siebren’s knee bumping his as they debated the universe on the sofa – it was not this. 

mondatta feels, for lack of a better concept, young. young and curious and cautious, but the hand in his makes it all a lot less awkward. 

is this how one does courtship? does one do such a thing at all? foreign territory is what it is, but he would not trade it for anything. 

to be so seen, to be so wanted, and by someone whose mind opened for him like an enigma, seemingly containing an entire galaxy of thought- 

what a blessing, then, to topple over on a bed, laughing, when it is two a.m. and nobody else can see. 

mondatta holds on, and worries for a moment that his arm under siebren is hurting him, and perhaps he isn’t quite made for hugging, at the very least not the horizontal kind.

‘ do tell me if i am cutting off your blood flow. ‘

[martyrbot-a]

@universnm

gravity takes its toll on someone. it’s squeezing, metal crushing under the force of it and siebren in the corner, shaking like a leaf, keeping whatever was near him away. against the wall. he’s sobbing, maybe. maybe he can only tell by the fact that his tears are hitting the ground beneath him. he looks up, at the sound of a voice, and sobs even more. “mondatta—” he chokes, and cant control it when gravity increases even more. he yells, gets it out of his system, releasing everything in the room and lets it clatter onto the floor. he curls up small, unaware of the damage he’s done, of the mess he’s made. the scientist was broken. beyond broken. “mondatta.” he says again, quieter.

PAIN is not new.  being dealt it by someone he loves more than life itself  —  is.  mondatta clings to the simple fact that  he does not mean it  and so he endures.  endures through the crush of his body, how his chassis feels like it will implode, endures what he knows is the breaking of his legs. 

‘ please, ‘  he says softly the moment it starts to let up.

‘ siebren, please. ‘ 

and tekhartha mondatta crawls, dragging himself ‘cross the floor to where his beloved sits, far more ruined than he could ever be.  he crawls, and kneeling before him takes the weeping face between aching palms.

‘ let me help you. ‘ 

[positivelyow]

@martyrbot:

@universnm

     hey gabe !!!! just wanted to give you a shout out for all you do and how we've been friends for so long. i admire not only your writing and the love you pour into your muses, but your attitude towards the world and how you keep on kickin' no matter what! and of course, our ship has brought me so much happiness and will continue to do so - and so will our other interactions. i'm forever both proud of you and proud to call you my friend

[bevrijdme]

@universnm | [starter call]

Part of him knew that he was daydreaming, conceiving of images that either had no basis in reality, or were heavily distorted. Like before, he was not in control of what was happening, managing only to register a vague whirring of machinery and a blinding flash of light that, together, marked the explosive end to his latest experiment in Quantum Mechanics.

Propelled backwards by the force of the detonation, Sigma let out a stunned yelp as he collided with a few shelves of laboratory equipment, causing a few beakers to fall off and shatter in a dangerous shower of glass shards. The back of his head had the misfortune luck of colliding with the edge of one of the shelves, which afterwards, had he went to probe it, would see his gloved hand come away smeared with blood.

As a result of the collision itself, it had caused stars to invade his vision, a twist that a concussed Sigma complained about beneath his breath as he slumped to the floor, eyes averted from the spacial anomaly occurring barely a few metres away. He would notice it in time-- especially when it came to be that he was joined by his mirror image -- but until then there came a meeting of bare feet touching the cold linoleum flooring. Of placing his weight upon solid ground.

It immediately caused him to spasm, legs bucking wildly as he pushed himself away from terra firma with a sobering gasp, as though repulsed by the idea of heaviness. Embracing instead a weightless state of existence, Sigma managed to pull himself together, all in time to see the smouldering remains of his former experiment give off puffs of smoke from its burnt components. A entire week’s worth, gone to waste.

Or was it?

Just as he was about to decry the rigours of starting over, Sigma happened to take measure of a new presence that had seemed to enter the vicinity of his vision. Or was that an old presence-- familiar even? He struggled to say, for the resemblance was uncanny; he was staring at his own mirror imagine, all flesh and blood just like him, rather than the figure he often saw reflected in painted glass.

Was this a sign that he was beginning to go mad again?

“Huh.... What an... unexpected development.” But one that wasn’t entirely unwelcomed, either.

After all, he could do with the company.