She probably can't smile. She tried it this morning, but it didn't actually work.
What's more is she's not sure how to say good morning to absolutely nothing - the guests that poured in like flood last night have all disappeared into thin air.
Perhaps her illusions have gotten the better of her.
Good morning
He put down the paper owl he was making and bent slightly lower to look at her. He knew that he should say something, or else they would be staring at each other for hours on end, but he just… had no idea what to…
"… Well.
Hello.”
Paper craft.
She wants to touch it, but that would be highly disobedient; when he speaks, her head tilts forward, but she does not utter a single sound. For a second, she lifts her sleeve to ask for the small piece of work, but she decides against it, lowering her arm once more, resuming the same stance of inhuman stillness and submission.
"A master?" did he just… hear a voice in is head? Oh my he was talking to something clearly above him. He swallowed dry and shifted a bit. Just who was this, and for that matter, what was this?
"I’m… not sure if I’m the right person you would want. I am no more than a guardian. If you so desire a master, you must wait until nightfall, when my own master is awake." Not exactly ‘Master’ but Sunako is the one that he would gladly step in the line of fire for. Besides, the terminology might help him communicate with her.
She is his light, the his greatest strength, and weakness.
"Do you have a name? My name is Seishin Muroi."
His sentence misleads her, and the entity finds herself believing that this oddly-colored man is also, by chance, a God. To reply, her mouth falls ajar, but nothing leaves her.
Instead, thoughts are what replace the deafening silence.
I am... God Bettenou. Muroi Seishin, Master is lost to the deceased. I need a Master
She repeats it, and it sounds somewhat desperate. This is albeit the fact that no physical voice backs up any of the syllables that reach Muroi, and it is clear she's in pain.
A deadpan stare cannot hide everything. She may be a God, but she is weak without a human to fuel the fire, as dead men tell no tales, and lies cannot work without lips to pour them from, like water from a leaking spigot.
A lie cannot spread without a life to thread them to another soul.
Meredith had no idea what to say to the tiny girl standing behind him. He turned around and just… stared at her, his own eyebrows raised in slight disbelief.
' … '
Target turned around. She uses this opportunity to hop (very lazily) and investigate what he was doing - whatever Meredith was doing. She doesn't look entrigued in the slightest, and yet she is, now turning to scan Meredith himself over with a blank facade.
...
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No wonder she couldn't see; this guy's build is the equivalent of a warrior's. Since following him around isn't helping, maybe patting his side will do the trick.
Hana hesitantly placed her hand on the girl's head. "Hello." She smiled a bit. "I'm Hana. Who are you?"
Oh! That is a hand. That is a hand on her head, and a human.Nothing to be too excited about - but even if she were excited, it wouldn't show.
There's a dilemma in this interaction, and that is the fact she cannot speak. Timidly, a sleeve is brought to her mouth, and her teeth loosely tap the edges of its hem.
Betteno
...your hair is pretty, may i pet it and maybe put little braids in?
She's never had anyone braid her hair before, and it sounds wonderful.
She takes into mind that Madotsuki's hair is also beautiful, and braids of that caliber would be great things to have. Without another moment to spare, she sits down, and nods - though the nod is very slow, very lethargic, and her expression stays the same.
So this was the child behind the computer, and maybe Betteno has a friend.
Once she settled onto his back he wrapped his arms under her legs and hoisted himself back up.
"You comfy? Just tell me when you want off, I’ll set you back down." He started walking. "You gotta name, young lady? I’m Cyril."
Cyril, what a nice name. It's foreign, too - this man speaks oddly, only proving her hypothesis.
To say she is comfy, Betteno cuddles into him. It's a nice feeling, after a while of being solitary, devoid of attention or any sort of physical contact, and she lifts a spindly digit to draw the characters of her name onto his shoulder in response.
It's shaky English, but it is well enough that it can be felt, at least.
Oh my. Another lost girl. He… sensed something in her, but couldn’t for the life of him put a finger or it. Perhaps he should be wary of this girl. After all there were things higher up on the scale than he was, like witches and demons
"Hello. Can I help you? I can help you get back to the city."
It was best to start there.
She's near a city, he implies - maybe she didn't stray too far from Tokyo, then.
Betteno can already sense the fact that he is otherworldly. There is something from within him that is being hidden, his 'human' body far from the question, and a deity of disguise knows far better than to turn a blind eye to an illusion.
Slowly faltering to glance up at Muroi, and still refusing to budge, she does not reply. For a moment, she wishes to understand what he is, and complies with his question.
Telepathically, sadly, for there's no other way to assure him she's alright.
I do not need it I need a Master
thank-you, hello
you have a nice icon.
Oh, a computer.
She's been around them much more since the appearance of detectives and other acquaintances she's come to meet, but she's not entirely sure how to use one. After all, she does come from the lord-knows-when B.C. times, and computers are fairly recent.
There's an account for something, something that she hasn't a clue of what it is - Betteno thinks she's completed it nicely, despite this - and they've complimented her.
It's just how to respond that troubles her; with this gadget, she can communicate. One key leads to another, and before long, she figures out how to work the keypad.
She thinks. Maybe she doesn't, but that's alright.
' _ hello, and thank you name?'
Looks like I gotta give you a piggy back ride, young lady. *Crouches down* Hop on.
Whoever this is, he has a grin that could challenge the sun's heat.
Whatever compelled him to give her a piggy back ride - actually, what is a piggy back ride? - the action, as well as the base of the current communication, will have to do for now. Without an obtainer, it's useless to reject. And, so, extending one leg after the other, Betteno does her best to lift what little weight she carries onto him.
For someone without the ability to show emotion, she looks confused.But maybe a 'piggy back ride' is pleasant. Maybe it means something nice.
She'll have to find out - either way, she has no method of retorting.
How awful; the command presented is 'truth', and the answer to the question it fathers is also related to it. She's not sure how to answer without speaking, but her mouth opens anyways, ghostly lips forming words that do not make a single sound.
I n g a
That is her worst regret in life - truth, in itself.Killing his only Master most likely was not a good idea.Going after his second master was also not a good idea.
Falling into line with Makirou Serada, Novelist, and becoming a deity used as a puppet was not a good idea, and living out of her time period was the worst idea of all.
Maybe, she takes it back. Now her biggest regret is simply living.
I’ll generate a number from 1-17 from the appropriate list for my muse to carry out the action!
WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?
A shame it is, but... She can't remember that, actually.
Perhaps it was murdering the child that represented something a human would never pay attention to - perhaps it was the feeling of losing a Master, or betraying another deity. Nonetheless, she lies to herself, as she is Illusion, after all...
And she thinks to herself, maybe it was the first time seeing a bumblebee. Bumblebees are nice, she thinks. She'd like to see one again.
Too many new people to count, and yet she doesn't flinch whatsoever. No, there's no reason to - unless she thinks highly of them, it isn't required.
Staying stark silent and not so much as moving an inch from her spot, the God deadpans, fingers hooked into the fabric of her formal dress. None of them are leaders. None of them wish to be, and so communication is not required.
Emotion is not applicable, and it never has been.
-- { ღ } " . . . "
It's aside from the norm for her, but she has no apparent clue where she is.
Whether this new development comes from her own power or otherwise is unknown to her - and, without a Master, there is nothing she can do to communicate with anyone.
If she could show it, she would prove that she dislikes being alone. For the moment, however, she will remain silent, as usual - and follow in footsteps.
