#theguiltybluecore

Those were tears.

(( theguiltybluecore I switched accounts so this is the new thingimabobber. ^_^ Sorry for the inconvenience ))

"Am I scaring you, Wheatley?"

The premise brought the slightest grimace to his bland and stoic expression; if he recognized any emotion by now, any tone, it was that of pleading. He knew the feel of it by heart; he knew the taste of bile and bitter metal on the roof of his quivering, begging mouth, he knew the sickness that rose watching another's shaking form wither as cries rose to their lips, and most revoltingly, he knew EXACTLY what it was like to hear such panicked, high pitched wails for reprieve and how his body could take such pleasure in it-- even when on the Voice's volition alone, even when it was so vile to Los's mind. He couldn't bear for the last thing he heard to be Wheatley's pleas... No matter how fitting it was for his final act, as one last damage to inflict, it was too physically painful of a notion.

"I'm sorry... But there's nothing to be discussed, my friend. Can you see that?" His monotonous voice rung hollowly about the dark, softly buzzing space. It was just like-- home, here, a pale and sleek Black Mesa... But up above... Emerald eyes, glistening in the faintest light of their own irises, rose to the ceiling wistfully. "The world is so beautiful..." One sad little life would scarcely be noticed, wasn't that right? The beautiful world would keep on turning, without a single clue to his passing... With so many genocides, suicides, and homicides, the world had yet to give an extra blink of its golden eye, so why would one life make any difference?

The human world, however... Shimmering, tears building within his eyes, he lowered his gaze once again-- staring at his hands as he struggled for clarity. The human world would know of his death, he was sure. His death could be measured by lives saved. It was all the same, anyway... A stupid lab rat! It was laughable enough, that he'd thought himself worthy of living among the others-- and it wasn't as though he'd ever expected to live this long... A sickly, patchwork lab rat isn't just released once its tests are completed-- it's much too dangerous. It's contamination.

"I'm glad that I could see it, though... I think about that a lot. The sky... So blue... The sunset-- trees-- clouds. Doesn't it look as though the clouds could be swirled around with a brush of one's fingertips? There's just so much that books and stories couldn't begin to explain! So much information... And yet... It's odd. It's such a small thing to the humans... I'd hypothesize that it's easy to disregard that which one has rights to."

Ah, he was rambling again. Pursing his lips, gaze darkening to shadows, the cyborg-- trembling and weak-limbed, if he were to be honest, and frightened of what was to come-- shuffled yet closer towards the edge. Though the movement made towards him caught the corner of his eye, his deadened and hollow stance refused to lift from its stiff direction. 

~✘ℂ✖℧ℛÅℐℰ✘~

The second Wheatley came down to his height, Courage threw his arms around him and sobbed into the android’s shoulder. Sniffling and hiccuping as he continued to cry. A total wreck at this point.

i had one

i had

Gulpins always interrupt my furfrou hunt

i nearly had it

THE GRASS WAS SHINING

BUT WRONG PATCH

AND GULPIN

Please send love!

http://italy-the-kid.tumblr.com/

✌ My muse is having nightmare, calling out your muse’s name.

Wheatley had finally nodded off into a comfortable sleep mode beside her on the couch. She had convinced the sleepy android to try to get some shut-eye. Promising that she’d be right there if he had a bad dream. While he rested Hope watched TV, playing with his hair aimlessly as he slept. It was nice for a while, relaxing even, before she felt him go tense. He flailed his extensive limbs suddenly, in reaction to a memory she couldn’t see. The robot was talking in his sleep now, muttering things she couldn’t quite catch. The only thing she could make out was her name as he cried out for her.