[ Save your strength, Sion should have said in the moment when Julius gave pause, focusing upon his connection to the foreign cell-structures within him, or perhaps do not be foolish, you must mind your recovery and rest, but before either statement had chance enough to fall from the Director's lips, branches which flex and coil like vines effloresce from Julius' back, comprised of a light which is--...
Captivating, but unsurprising. Like Sion had glimpsed such a thing before.
And after a flurry of heartbeats and a stilted hitch of breath, he realizes where he had— ]
When I dreamt of you, you burst forth from a cocoon, and from your back, branches arched high into the aether with all the majesty of wings.
[ Slowly, he lifts a hand, as though making to touch one of the four cellular constructs, but before contact is made, he stalls, falling just short of brushing a branch with his golden-hued fingertips. ]
That is... more than prophetic, it is improbable. Nearly impossible. [ Voice falling soft, his words are touched by an undertone of reverence for the other man; the deepest and truest regard: ] Reality borne from a dream--...
[ It's wonderful. It's amazing and just a little bit breath-taking, overwhelming in the most profound of ways. It's meant for Julius, but at the same time— ]
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[ Save your strength, Sion should have said in the moment when Julius gave pause, focusing upon his connection to the foreign cell-structures within him, or perhaps do not be foolish, you must mind your recovery and rest, but before either statement had chance enough to fall from the Director's lips, branches which flex and coil like vines effloresce from Julius' back, comprised of a light which is--...
Captivating, but unsurprising. Like Sion had glimpsed such a thing before.
And after a flurry of heartbeats and a stilted hitch of breath, he realizes where he had— ]
When I dreamt of you, you burst forth from a cocoon, and from your back, branches arched high into the aether with all the majesty of wings.
[ Slowly, he lifts a hand, as though making to touch one of the four cellular constructs, but before contact is made, he stalls, falling just short of brushing a branch with his golden-hued fingertips. ]
That is... more than prophetic, it is improbable. Nearly impossible. [ Voice falling soft, his words are touched by an undertone of reverence for the other man; the deepest and truest regard: ] Reality borne from a dream--...
[ It's wonderful. It's amazing and just a little bit breath-taking, overwhelming in the most profound of ways. It's meant for Julius, but at the same time— ]
It's too beautiful to touch.
[ —Sion himself cannot grasp it. ]