I decided to use this to try to get back into writing. I used the same questions that
used. i. What does he/she smell like:
Leather, slightly singed hair, slightly smoky (like a campfire or fireplace). There are hints of apple and rose that cling to him and come though as undercurrents. ii. How does he/she sleep (sleeping position, schedule, etc.):
He rolls over onto his stomach and looks at me, a small smile on his face as the wind brushes through the grass. He quietly watches me for several minutes, his smile becoming a smirk. Then, he brings his head up, eyes not leaving mine. "First of all, I sleep naked whenever I can," he says, carefully watching my reaction. "After that, I'm asleep. I like to curl around the pillow. Hold onto it as I drift off. Other than that, my bed is mine. I don't share it readily. So I tend to sleep sprawled out, claiming as much space as possible." He stretches as he finishes talking, laying back down and rolling onto his back. He watches the clouds, the smile slowly vanishing. "It's hard to share a bed with anyone," his tone is hesitant and his voice very soft. "For most of my life, I constantly had to worry about whether or not I was going to be called away....I was, you know...several times...It tore at my heart every time..." His arms move back to him as he talks, rolling onto his side and facing me. "...Having to leave them there...not knowing where I went or when I'd be back...or -if- I'd be back..." He sighs, pressing his eyes closed and trying to clear the memories.
After a little while, I reach out and put my hand on his upper arm without saying anything. He opens his eyes and looks at me, the storminess in his eyes slowly fading. He smiles slowly. "You going to sit there all day or ask the next question?" he asks me, his tone gently teasing. iii. What music does he/she enjoy:
An honest grin spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes. "All of it!" Suddenly he's sitting up, his left leg bent for support, foot ending by his butt. His right leg is bent at the knee, foot out a little bit. "The strummings of a guitar, the golden notes of a harp, the sweet, flighty sounds of a flute!" His hands move as he talks, his tone happy and bright. "Or the pounding of drums, the...the fluid notes of a piano..or the deep thrum of an organ hitting a bass note!" He looks to me, taking my hands in his without a second thought. "The way the notes carry through the air, across time, across languages...if the music is written well...you don't need words." He leans his forehead against mine, his voice very soft. "People understand music when they don't understand anything else. It gives light to their feelings and emotions without judging them."
"So, no vocals in the music you listen to?" I speak quietly, not wanting to disturb his mood but still feeling the need to ask.
Genesis laughs. "Now that would be blasphemy with some of the songs because the singer's voice is -so- sweet." He leans back a little bit, still holding my hands. "Some songs need it but the singer must -fit-. If they don't, they run the risk of ruining a lovely piece of work." iv. How much time does he/she spend getting ready every morning:
His eyebrow raises as he smiles a little more at me. "Wanting to know how I sleep -and- how long I take to get ready?" He cocks his head to the side, his eyes on mine. "Should I be expecting you to ask me when I'm available as well?" His tone is completely teasing, warm and friendly. He laughs softly. "Alright..." he opens his mouth and pauses, blinking a few times. "I...I never thought about it." He admits with a laugh. "I get up, whenever that is, take a quick shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, brush my hair and teeth. Usually I'm out the door right after that. Some days I take longer, some shorter." v. Their favorite thing to collect:
"Memories, mostly." He squeezes my hands and lets me go. "I can't forget things...anything. I can push it aside and let other things surface...but I never forget." He lowers his head, looking at his own hands then back up to me. "It's nicer now, with the better memories. But there are things I want to forget and I can't. I push them aside and don't think about them but they aren't gone forever." vi. Their religion (if any):
His mako blue eyes flare, the mako in them making them incredibly bright for an instant. "Must you ask that?" he asks, his tone irritated. "Because if you must, then you know -nothing- about me."
"They're the same questions for everyone, Genesis. I know your dedication to the Goddess."
He calms immediately, nodding. "As long as that's settled then." vii. Their favorite tourist things to do when traveling:
He laughs. "Sleep!" After he calms a little, he looks at me. "Honestly, I like to sleep and wander the areas without people." viii. Their favorite kind of weather:
He shakes his head. "Weather doesn't matter to me. I like all kinds though my least favourite would be the kind of rain that just...sinks. It sinks into your hair, your clothes, soaking through everything to your skin and continuing for so long it's like there's nothing else it's doing except for trying to weight you down. I don't mind rain if it doesn't do that." xi. A weird // obscure fear // insecurity they have: He leans close to me, his eyes on mine. "Let me see if I understand you, correctly. You are asking someone who was created as a science experiment, trained to be one of the most deadly men on the planet and, once the Degradation was healed, a now immortal...What his fear is."
I nod, smiling a little, amused at the way he put it. "Yes. I am."
He gives a soft snort, smiling at me. "I am already outside time and people's reckoning. I was already forgotten. I have already meant nothing."
"You're avoiding the question, Gen," I keep my tone as gentle as possible.
He shakes his head at me. "No, dear lady, I'm not." His voice becomes nearly silent, just barely louder than a breath. "Because when you are used to being outside of everything, being nothing...the idea of being connected and being -everything- is both exhilarating and terrifying." He smiles gently at me. "I can handle myself, even one other person depending on me completely....but now that's not the case. There are a lot more people who look to me, to all of us...and that, my dear, is something completely different."
Pics and photographs of Genesis:
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