Simon may be far from home, but no matter where in the multiverse he goes, he will always remain a selfish little brat, pursuing "change" only when it serves him. Physical conditioning, tactical warfare, and most recently, enhancing his new abilities. His heart, cold as ever, has been submerged in ice for years and years and years, only thawing when he hurts and when he thinks of her, never once defrosting in service for the sake of anyone else.
Until today.
It's not as though the fair-haired fright of a teenager registered this as a date, far from it, as his memories of anything vaguely similar are fractured into tiny shards. The wounds, punctured by those very bits of broken glass are still present, open and and unruly, and yet, like a warrior should, Simon ignores them. But he is no longer a mere, fleshy mortal. The glow from within his chest is even more of a blessing than the number that was once on his hand. If anything, for this? Numbers were simply preparation.
He's a god now. And gods can take what they want.]
Cool?
You r-really think I'm-
[On the outside, Simon would curse and deny any opportunity to better himself. But on the inside, he knows he is anything but. And so, he chooses to cast his paranoia aside in favor of this new era, this new opportunity. Grace, of all people, she would understand-]
...Fine?
Just.
The way I am.
[She, his best friend, would be happy for him. Why, if he could go back for her, he would! Then they could be gods together. But she isn't here now, and the last word Grace would ever use to describe him would be that.
Cool.
Without so much as a second thought, Simon leans in for a kiss. He doesn't have the faintest idea what he's doing, but thankfully, that furry mouth of his is closed.]
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Date: 2022-01-04 05:05 am (UTC)Simon may be far from home, but no matter where in the multiverse he goes, he will always remain a selfish little brat, pursuing "change" only when it serves him. Physical conditioning, tactical warfare, and most recently, enhancing his new abilities. His heart, cold as ever, has been submerged in ice for years and years and years, only thawing when he hurts and when he thinks of her, never once defrosting in service for the sake of anyone else.
Until today.
It's not as though the fair-haired fright of a teenager registered this as a date, far from it, as his memories of anything vaguely similar are fractured into tiny shards. The wounds, punctured by those very bits of broken glass are still present, open and and unruly, and yet, like a warrior should, Simon ignores them. But he is no longer a mere, fleshy mortal. The glow from within his chest is even more of a blessing than the number that was once on his hand. If anything, for this? Numbers were simply preparation.
He's a god now. And gods can take what they want.]
Cool?
You r-really think I'm-
[On the outside, Simon would curse and deny any opportunity to better himself. But on the inside, he knows he is anything but. And so, he chooses to cast his paranoia aside in favor of this new era, this new opportunity. Grace, of all people, she would understand-]
...Fine?
Just.
The way I am.
[She, his best friend, would be happy for him. Why, if he could go back for her, he would! Then they could be gods together. But she isn't here now, and the last word Grace would ever use to describe him would be that.
Cool.
Without so much as a second thought, Simon leans in for a kiss. He doesn't have the faintest idea what he's doing, but thankfully, that furry mouth of his is closed.]