Pearl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
herconfidante) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
gaaaaay2015-09-23 02:15 am
herconfidante) wrote in gaaaaay2015-09-23 02:15 am
(no subject)
A Diamond's eyes feel different. Tangible and sharp, pressing into the back of her neck like a pair of metal prongs. It snaps her muscles straight like a wire, even her hackles bolting upright.
943-D's time in the Farm has proven she's most efficient when watched -- the single lunar cycle she's spent aboard Rose Diamond's ship has dismantled that theory into a heap of cogs and corkscrews. The sheer intensity of that gaze on her sends her mind into a state of hyper-awareness that her body fails to match -- gangly legs tangling together, restless hands finding life of their own. And each time anew it brings with it an icy prickle of panic, stop it stop it, before she throws you away.
But then, the strangest thing-- the strangest thing is turning around. 943-D does not meet Her Majesty's eyes, of course, unless she is ordered to, but sometimes she catches just the tiniest fleeting glimpse (on accident, only on accident) and the warmth she sees there seeps into her very bones.
She does not understand it at all.
A Diamond's hands feel different, too. Strong enough to snap her form in half between two fingers, she's sure -- and yet Rose Diamond's touch is almost impossibly gentle, fingers buzzing-glowing at her wrist or waist or elbow, leaving around them an invisible aurora. 943-D does not feel worthy, but voicing those thoughts would be casting doubt upon Her Majesty's decisions, and so she bites them down. Her reasoning is wholly opaque to her, but then, that only makes sense; she is a mere pearl. They do not remotely operate on the same level.
Rose Diamond is a being far, far beyond anything her simple mind could hope to grasp.
But if there's one thing she's perfectly geared for, it's planning; calculating and organizing and sorting information into neat little boxes in her head, to be retrieved at a moment's notice when necessary. That is the purpose she is meant to serve, and even ungainly and out of place as she is, she can fulfill it.
Even if those eyes and hands on her are enough to make her forget how to speak, sometimes.
"... and once the ship has crossed through NGC 2419, it shall arrive at its destination within 6.8 solar cycles, the shortest and safest course according to calculation," 943-D concludes, the static in her stare dissipating as she disconnects from the deck's main screen. The map flickers into black, but she does not move from her position, nor turn around to face Rose Diamond (prongs digging into flesh).
"How else may I be of service?"
943-D's time in the Farm has proven she's most efficient when watched -- the single lunar cycle she's spent aboard Rose Diamond's ship has dismantled that theory into a heap of cogs and corkscrews. The sheer intensity of that gaze on her sends her mind into a state of hyper-awareness that her body fails to match -- gangly legs tangling together, restless hands finding life of their own. And each time anew it brings with it an icy prickle of panic, stop it stop it, before she throws you away.
But then, the strangest thing-- the strangest thing is turning around. 943-D does not meet Her Majesty's eyes, of course, unless she is ordered to, but sometimes she catches just the tiniest fleeting glimpse (on accident, only on accident) and the warmth she sees there seeps into her very bones.
She does not understand it at all.
A Diamond's hands feel different, too. Strong enough to snap her form in half between two fingers, she's sure -- and yet Rose Diamond's touch is almost impossibly gentle, fingers buzzing-glowing at her wrist or waist or elbow, leaving around them an invisible aurora. 943-D does not feel worthy, but voicing those thoughts would be casting doubt upon Her Majesty's decisions, and so she bites them down. Her reasoning is wholly opaque to her, but then, that only makes sense; she is a mere pearl. They do not remotely operate on the same level.
Rose Diamond is a being far, far beyond anything her simple mind could hope to grasp.
But if there's one thing she's perfectly geared for, it's planning; calculating and organizing and sorting information into neat little boxes in her head, to be retrieved at a moment's notice when necessary. That is the purpose she is meant to serve, and even ungainly and out of place as she is, she can fulfill it.
Even if those eyes and hands on her are enough to make her forget how to speak, sometimes.
"... and once the ship has crossed through NGC 2419, it shall arrive at its destination within 6.8 solar cycles, the shortest and safest course according to calculation," 943-D concludes, the static in her stare dissipating as she disconnects from the deck's main screen. The map flickers into black, but she does not move from her position, nor turn around to face Rose Diamond (prongs digging into flesh).
"How else may I be of service?"