almost like a junkie [OPEN]
When he'd first arrived, Cazali had sort of scoffed at the use of something like the sensorium. It was all all a lie, and indulging in a fake reality was pretty disgusting. Of course, he'd indulged once or twice for fun, and...quickly found it wasn't nearly as horrible as he'd thought. Which totally didn't mean he was warming up to it, no way.
But one day, he got an idea. His core medals- he hadn't yet gone to harass security about their return, and part of him didn't know why he was hesitating. Maybe it was hopelessness, or maybe he just needed to remember why his medals were so vital. So, he'd strolled in to the sensorium- bringing Besel with him, setting the confused kitten on the ground -and concentrated. The setting was barely a thought- it was just default blue sky, default grassy field, nothing special.
Cazali was more intent on remembering each of his medals individually, two through nine. With each new medal his body changed, growing stronger and more armored, coloring returning slowly- until he finally absorbed the ninth, and he felt that familiar surge of power. But it was a lie, and he had to remind himself of that as he looked his nearly-completed form over. This was just the illusion working. He hadn't actually gotten his medals back, of course.
The Greeed sighed, letting himself fall backwards to lie on the grass (and missing Besel by a few inches). Was his desire for completion returning...? Not really. He just felt sort of lukewarm about it still. What the hell was wrong?
But one day, he got an idea. His core medals- he hadn't yet gone to harass security about their return, and part of him didn't know why he was hesitating. Maybe it was hopelessness, or maybe he just needed to remember why his medals were so vital. So, he'd strolled in to the sensorium- bringing Besel with him, setting the confused kitten on the ground -and concentrated. The setting was barely a thought- it was just default blue sky, default grassy field, nothing special.
Cazali was more intent on remembering each of his medals individually, two through nine. With each new medal his body changed, growing stronger and more armored, coloring returning slowly- until he finally absorbed the ninth, and he felt that familiar surge of power. But it was a lie, and he had to remind himself of that as he looked his nearly-completed form over. This was just the illusion working. He hadn't actually gotten his medals back, of course.
The Greeed sighed, letting himself fall backwards to lie on the grass (and missing Besel by a few inches). Was his desire for completion returning...? Not really. He just felt sort of lukewarm about it still. What the hell was wrong?