[Comparatively, Bull is used to standing out. Even in a world filled with those of his race, he was still bright as a beacon, though perhaps less for his horns and skin color and more the culture and philosophy he stood behind. Now, though, it seems more for his looks.
While he hasn't known Rosalind for longer than the space of this first conversation, he likes her hair this way, softer and looser. Then again, he likes red hair no matter the fashion - braided, tied back in a tail (easier to pull on that way), bundled up, curled, short-cropped...]
Oh yeah? That's been the weird part for me. Like those bright lights in the ceiling? That's definitely not fire. And those machines that make the clicking noises? And that glowy thing over my chest? I could see right through it.
[Those are computers and HUD projections, Bull. Please help him science. There's an edge of discomfort in his voice, however, noticeable as well in the narrowing of his eye.
It feels like a really fucked up dream. He doesn't enjoy being so out of his element, and the garden is miles better than those narrow corridors, colored lights, and enclosed space.]
no subject
While he hasn't known Rosalind for longer than the space of this first conversation, he likes her hair this way, softer and looser. Then again, he likes red hair no matter the fashion - braided, tied back in a tail (easier to pull on that way), bundled up, curled, short-cropped...]
Oh yeah? That's been the weird part for me. Like those bright lights in the ceiling? That's definitely not fire. And those machines that make the clicking noises? And that glowy thing over my chest? I could see right through it.
[Those are computers and HUD projections, Bull. Please help him science. There's an edge of discomfort in his voice, however, noticeable as well in the narrowing of his eye.
It feels like a really fucked up dream. He doesn't enjoy being so out of his element, and the garden is miles better than those narrow corridors, colored lights, and enclosed space.]