Patron Librarian of the Floor of Technological Sciences

Leslie looked up and slowly blinked. Wariness and desperate loneliness at war between her. Could she? Should she? WAsn’t it a danger to speak to those she didn’t know? LEslie’s little hands held the berries and looked back at the purple man.

So tired.

“They.. they came off the bush? I saw the birds nibbling from it. If the birds eat it, that means it’s safe. Doesn’t it?”

“You cannot trust the judgement of birds,” he says flatly, as though he’s oblivious to the how silly that sounds said out loud.

“Everything that you eat should be washed. Has no one ever told you that?”

Netzach doesn’t quite appreciate it. They know Yesod well, and despite this, still wish that the other was perhaps, a bit less callous. A basic personality trait isn’t something one can change with their bare hands though, and Netzach sits in long suffering silence instead. They won’t say anything right now, it’s just not worth the heart to heart on emotional availability towards your friends. 

“I mean, they didn’t say, but the implications weren’t fantastic.” They’re not fond of the idea of being torn apart. After all, Netzach has learned, to some degree, to value their life. Even if they feel at odds with the world at times, there are things worth exploring, and frankly, they’ve enjoyed the relative freedom this place provides. “It’s better than being locked underground, so honestly? I’m not complaining.” Maybe Yesod can see the light as well. 

Not gone? They pale slightly, dread like a rock in their stomach. “That’s, weird. I’ve been here for at least a month. I’ve missed you and Hod and Malkuth.” It’s a quiet admission, gaze averted. 

Netzach shakes their head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Pretty chill, actually. The people here have been pretty nice to me.” They don’t offer more in this moment, and end up dragging their fingers through their hair. “You seem like something’s bugging you more than just the fact that we’re here.” 

The silence is as uncomfortable for Yesod as it is for Netzach. He has never been terribly personable, even with his fellow Sephirot, and he’s mentally pushing himself to not have any of his frustrated little slips. Netzach is, after all, at least attempting to be helpful.

But Yesod does not know how he feels about that admission that he (and Malkuth and Hod) have been missed.

“I see.” He does not see how Netzach has been here a month despite not being missing, but the information is filed away anyway; he does not have to understand in order to file. The mental list of everything he doesn’t know is only growing.

“There are Abnormalities known for manipulating time as well as space. It’s possible that we’ve run afoul of something that escaped before it could be cataloged.”

Netzach cannot get by on clinical coldness alone. However, the familiarity of the other offers a small spark of comfort, one that sits in the base of Netzach’s stomach like a wayward infection. Coming to the conclusions that you are still somewhat human means getting back in touch with one’s emotions, with what it means to feel overfull by qualms not relevant to artificial life. This means, they stand stock still for a moment, trying to separate and process everything all at once, until it becomes so overwhelming that they give up all together, and just let thoughts run like water from a faucet. 

“An hour? Shit.” They have little else to say on the matter, instead, drawing in a breath and trying to put everything in order. “Am, have I been gone for long?” Netzach asks that question tentatively, pausing over the other statement.

If Yesod is watching, there is a difference in how Netzach moves. There is a particularly fluidity to them, a tremor nigh impossible to reproduce by mechanics alone. They move much like a person would, taking breaths despite the need not to, and blink every so often as well. It’s a stark difference from the sluggish, mechanical motions from before their meltdown. 

“Well, uh, we’ve been kidnapped, I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. If you saw the message, it’s like we’re here on a kind of fucked vacation.” They’re fidgeting, toying with and tugging on their sleeves incessantly. They don’t touch Yesod, though their gaze bores through the other like a drill. “Uh, we can’t leave, or we’ll be punished. And we shouldn’t go out at night, apparently. I didn’t really like that, but I haven’t tried actually doing something about it yet. I’m still kind of taking everything in.” 

Despite the weight of Netzach’s stare, Yesod is, as usual, all business, with only the slight crease between his eyebrows to give away exactly how troubled he is.

“There was something about being assigned housing.” He speaks vaguely despite recalling it clearly. “I believe I have been assigned to M7. Do you know what this supposed punishment for leaving is to be?” For he has no intention to stay.

The crease between his eyebrows deepens as he regards Netzach. He moves on despite his question.

“… You weren’t gone at all.” It sounds like he is only just connecting those dots himself; the last time Yesod saw Netzach, the other was wasted on the floor, yet, clearly, from Netzach’s own words the head of the Safety Team has been here for significantly longer than Yesod has.

The timeline’s between each of their stories aren’t quite lining up. To put it lightly? Vexing. It makes him itch.

But now that Yesod was thinking about that, he was starting to notice how something seemed different about his companion that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

puts on………… a crop top

...............

buy her one yesod :-)

The distinctly unpleasant look that crosses his face answers the question for him: No, he would not.

Yesod’s expression prompts them to laugh, low and amused. It’s not a hard enough laugh to prompt teary eyes, but it does perk them up a little bit.

“It’s not like, a physical thing you know. Just, getting better at expressing my emotions, and handling things. It feels easier to live day to day. It’s good, I promise.”

“Emotions can have a surprising amount of physical consequences,” Yesod comments, although it’s clear he means it as an observation rather than a critique. He cannot say he feels the same way, but if it leads to longer stretches of sobriety for Netzach, then Yesod cannot find a problem with it.