#absolutepoison

Pam is complex for Siria to understand sometimes ( as all humans are to her -- though Pam is more than, better than human ). She has moods that shift, periods when she doesn’t want touch, where she just wants her plants or to be left to her own, sometimes mysterious devices. 

She’s learned not to feel left out or abandoned during those times, despite some moments at first where she’d bitten back a whine or a small sigh of incomprehension. Instead, she often settles for a nap, just curls up on the couch with a few pillows and a blanket and naps until it passes, or until she thinks of something else to do. 

This is one of those days - and she hasn’t seen Pam since she left the flat straight after lunch. Outside is all storm clouds and high winds ( she sees the trees sway from their balcony, and in the park across the street, shudders to think of how that would feel against her own skin, or against fur -- curls up tighter under her blankets, treasures the warmth she’s amassed ) and she lulls herself into a half-sleep, eyes closed.

It could be a few minutes - or a few hours, she’s lost track of time - when she feels a soft touch against her cheek, thinks at first that a window fell open and that wind is passing through, brushing against her skin. But wind isn’t that soft, doesn’t brush against her like she’s something fragile, to be protected. 

And wind certainly doesn’t press lips to her other cheek in a light, barely there k i s s.

Her eyes flutter open, a smile curling her lips as she looks up at the redhead, back from wherever she’d gone, windswept but still as beautiful and unearthly as ever. 

             WHEN YOU ARE FAR FROM HOME  it can be easy to forget your roots— quite literally in the case of one such flora colossus who has been away from home for most of the better part of a century. Not that he had ever truly considered Planet X HOME, perhaps for a time when he had been a sapling… but space travel, traversing the GALAXY… Even the less savoury parts of his time as a bounty hunter are remembered fondly. Here on Earth, everything seems so far away. So small. Even the stars look microscopic and faded, with their radiance partially BLOTTED by the city lights.

   But he still watches them, every night, sat on the grassiest, tallest knoll in the park, peering up into the blackness of space with something that isn’t QUITE homesickness, but certainly hovers in around the same area. People mostly left him alone ; after all, how is one SUPPOSED to approach a lumbering tree being, sitting cross-legged in the middle of Gotham Park ?

Of course it’s her shirt. The neckline hangs off Harley’s shoulders, the chest is loose, the bottom hem falls halfway down her thighs. She just kinda figured Ivy wouldn’t care, at this point.

MEME ;  SEND MY MUSE A SYMBOL FOR A TEXT MESSAGE ( ♛ ) 

status :  accepting. 

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

though we still have the other thread so you decide c: