[ he doesn't remember how it happened that he is even holding onto a pill. but that's what happens. something shifts and there is now a pink pill on the palm of his hand.
angelo isn't a human. not quite. but even as a newtype, none of his senses are keen enough to be working against a machine (a machine?) that barely talks in intelligible sentences. right now he's parsing them based on what makes sense, and the thing that does -- which shouldn't -- is the fact that he is drawn to this pill.
why? embrace what? this isn't the red comet. this isn't the ideals of neo zeon made into a convenient mask that's telling him this is everything, lieutenant. it does not speak to him as one would to a rose and being tended to with violence and a powerful will to become hope, which really is just another word for destruction. a red comet.
but he is drawn to it. it makes no sense.
angelo, entranced, stares at his palm and hears the word but doesn't quite hear it and asks -- ]
no subject
angelo isn't a human. not quite. but even as a newtype, none of his senses are keen enough to be working against a machine (a machine?) that barely talks in intelligible sentences. right now he's parsing them based on what makes sense, and the thing that does -- which shouldn't -- is the fact that he is drawn to this pill.
why? embrace what? this isn't the red comet. this isn't the ideals of neo zeon made into a convenient mask that's telling him this is everything, lieutenant. it does not speak to him as one would to a rose and being tended to with violence and a powerful will to become hope, which really is just another word for destruction. a red comet.
but he is drawn to it. it makes no sense.
angelo, entranced, stares at his palm and hears the word but doesn't quite hear it and asks -- ]
What is this? [ bitch this isn't Captain ]