This is the start of my story for @allthingsao3 Relay Game. ＼(^-^)／
The world is painted orange as the sun sets, somehow in spite of everything changing the one constant was the setting sun's glow calling him back home. Michael took his time taking in the view as he walked home there was a small flock of Pidove flying off somewhere, even the long way was quick.
He opened the door and was immediately greeted by Carl the Chatot, "Hello? Hello?" "Hi Carl" Micheal reached up to pet him and was next greeted by Vincent the Purrloin's happy trilling, "Hey buddy how're you?" Micheal didn't notice his father standing behind him, "…Micheal. Where have you been?"
He asked with his usual dull dryness, the two locked eyes for a minute. "Out. I met that new guy that moved in with the Newlins. He's in the same boat as us, what did that detective call us again? Fallers right?" Micheal's father nodded solemnly.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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happy valentines dayyyyyy(tomorrow for me). I decided to write a drabble about platonic love, since it's very underrated! Space!Gesa is aroace! but he still shows love in selective and different ways! don't mind his aloofness!
Love. Amor. Amour.
There’s a lot of definitions for love, just like art.
If you explained to him the traditional definition of love on Earth, he would be a little confused, awkward, and maybe at times distasteful.
He doesn’t understand the commotion humans make about it. Not entirely. The sickly affection and physicality of it all, the sweets, the poetry, the romance… what is the fuss? He didn’t even want to think about copulation. He never really considered having a life partner either way.
He’s had a partner in the past, but soon realized that he wasn’t fond of dynamic. The departure of the person was still painful, but here he was, starting a new day. He tilts his head down to the marble, pondering about the new knowledge of human love. Did every human feel this way? Apparently not. Gesaffelstein couldn’t tell if he was relieved or not. He then glances back to his sculptures, searching for the ones that represented past interactions, and how he felt with them. The departure was a prominent one, actually consisting of three stages. Doting, differences, then departure. How long has that been?
There were other interactions from others. One piece was of him looking up to another floating mini satellite representing a ship of some kind. Michel.
Michel was a being that traveled passed him. Gesaffelstein learned morse code from him. They both played their music through the radio signal Michel had. He remembered the last conversation they had in morse.
Gesaffelstein didn’t play music for the rest of his day, extra silent without his mutual. Now Michel, he was fond of. But not romantically. No, it wasn’t that kind of fondness. What was it.
The answer to a problem is almost always the easiest one. Friendship. Now, Gesaffelstein knows a little bit about friendship with the little experience he has, but he didn’t consider that friendship can have just as much depth and importance as romance. Friendship has its own intimacy. That, that is what he enjoyed. Selectively, of course. He still couldn’t handle multiple visitors or most visitors at all. Distress would crack through the planet, beams of light blasting at any intruders. Or maybe he sets the entirety of the planet’s temperature below freezing.
Another thing with Michel was that, Michel did not set foot on the land. Michel was a cautious man, as was Gesaffelstein. The larger satellite warned him at first despite the language being unreadable. And yet, Michel kept his distance. And despite the distance, the connection was strong. So, so strong. Gesaffelstein enjoyed it. He hoped all is well for Michel, and on occasion wonders when he would ever return.
If Gesaffelstein felt love, that was the kind of love he yearned for. Communication of depth, music, everything beyond his orbit. If Gesaffelstein felt love, he would say he would remain on standby until the very last hour before his mother’s supernova. He may not devote his everything for a being, but he’s someone to rely on. He cared. He may not be affectionate physically, no no. But perhaps his words were his strength. Any wisdom he had, he would share. He would sit down and write through someone’s tribulation. If someone could find peace in his still world, accompanied by melodic tunes and beeps, he wins.
