Mimic was about to lift his shirt to show his largest and deepest scars, but thought better of it. "The explorer vowed to spend the rest of his life atoning for whatever he had done to provoke such wrath. With that resolution, he gave me this." Mimic unsheathed a beautiful finely crafted katana.
Mimicry is the Highest Form
- Thread starter Winds of Time
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Mimic showed her a sword, and her eyes became wide, and she flinched. She hated swrods. She believed if it wasn't considered barbaric in this day and age, people would have come at her with such things. People were so hateful... She feared them so. It wasn't her fault she had powers or blue skin. She hadn't asked for it!
At her reaction, he quickly sheathed his blade. "I apoligize if I disturbed you." He said sincerely. Tears came to his eyes again. "I never do anything right. I'm sorry!" Hanging his head, he walked over to a tree to sit down and hug his knees.
Eloi watched him cower, and cry, and wondered if he was copying her, or if he really felt that way. She leaned forward a little, watching him retreat to a tree, and hug his knees. She felt sorry for him, he seemed to wash back and forth between misery and happiness. At least she was at a constant bitter mood. She would hate to have seen happiness, and have it taken away multiple times through the day. However, she remained in the cup of her own tree, frightened of the man, and unsure of how to help or even communicate with him.
Without warning, Mimic rolled backwards into a handstand, now feeling a sense of joy. He flipped onto his feet, grinning. "Wait right there!" He said merrily before hurrying past the tree he had been sulking by.
Eloi watched the curious young man, and nodded slowly. He scurried off, and she wrapped her arms around her knees tightly. What had she gotten herself into, and why was she still here? She sighed, and waited for Mimic to return.
After plucking what he had left for out of the ground, he crept around to come from behind the woman. He stepped out of the dense forest holding out what he had found: Roses. He grinned, obviously pleased.
Eloi traced small patterns on the fabric of her knee as she waited for Mimic. Why did she even wait for him anyways? She could have run off, and avoided the strange male. But... She thought that would be rude. The attention was nice, even if he scared her. Why did she have to be so scared all the time? Perhaps she just needed to be scared of scientists... Not other people... But it was other people who gave her to the pyscoanalysist men... She didn't know but she did know she was scared. Of everyone.
Mimic circled back around to come from where he had left. He walked triumphantly back towards Eloi, holding the roses behind his back. He stopped and kneeled as he held them out. "For you, m'lady. These flowers pale in comparison to your beauty."
Eloi lifted her head slightly as Mimic offered her the rose. Why was he giving her a flower? Now the flower was going to die, and it would be all her fault. She didn't think she was worth a dying flower. Though, MImic seemed to be really proud of such a gesture, so she took the flower, and could smell the life still trying to course through the stem and leaves, and into the soft petals. She nodded her head slowly in thanks.
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