( Red's focus grows more on the monster, part of her, her even if she catches the moment he sees. He sees and steps past what happened with Clara. On Fuckin Hera, she would have shut it all down if she thought he caught even a glimpse of what was shared there- what she can't share, because it'll kill him (kill the whole galaxies). And it terrifies her to think she might end up responsible for that despite all her attempts to be better than what she was made to be. It terrifies her his ever being friends with her could ever hurt him. It terrifies her the thought of losing- She swallows as he continues forward (comforted that it does feel like... a friend, she's starting to know what that feels like to have). She's seen his own aura in full. She can show him this, show him her. She can choose it. She wants to.
There's the door in her mind he'll find himself at next. Even from outside of it, it shudders, buckles. The only door inside of her mind made of metal, but it burns. Touching it, it burns. She has to force it open through her fear - not of Cerberus but of being seen differently.
The door flings open, and on the other side, he will see it too, feel it. The monster stands, guards: the ancient growl, the gnashing of teeth, the claws scraping and tearing. In its current size, it would tower over the building they currently sit on. The Underworld is always cold, but Cerberus is bursting with flame from every crack - eyes to mouth to the lines of it are red-orange with flame. It is barely contained inside of the spines and fur and long tail which whips around like a snake.
The three heads seek to tear, to bite, to guard, to terrify, to follow orders, and it has since its creation (ancient as it is). The chains that bind it are just as old. It would swallow his soul if it could, if given half the chance.
No.
But then- then she hears his words. They're the nicest things anyone has ever said about her, and she shakes her head- some part of denying it, knowing the truth is she's monstruous but he somehow sees her as all of that. She feels how it roots there in her mind where the shifting's at, and she lifts her hand to cling to his arm while his fingertips press against her forehead. )
I feel it - the anchor.
I can hear you there in my head where I usually feel like I don't have any control at all. ( Her eyes burn. She doesn't know what to do with everything she said or how important he is to her and the fact she knows his entire future, and- and all the rest. But she knows she feels his anchor there now. She can reach it. )
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There's the door in her mind he'll find himself at next. Even from outside of it, it shudders, buckles. The only door inside of her mind made of metal, but it burns. Touching it, it burns. She has to force it open through her fear - not of Cerberus but of being seen differently.
The door flings open, and on the other side, he will see it too, feel it. The monster stands, guards: the ancient growl, the gnashing of teeth, the claws scraping and tearing. In its current size, it would tower over the building they currently sit on. The Underworld is always cold, but Cerberus is bursting with flame from every crack - eyes to mouth to the lines of it are red-orange with flame. It is barely contained inside of the spines and fur and long tail which whips around like a snake.
The three heads seek to tear, to bite, to guard, to terrify, to follow orders, and it has since its creation (ancient as it is). The chains that bind it are just as old. It would swallow his soul if it could, if given half the chance.
No.
But then- then she hears his words. They're the nicest things anyone has ever said about her, and she shakes her head- some part of denying it, knowing the truth is she's monstruous but he somehow sees her as all of that. She feels how it roots there in her mind where the shifting's at, and she lifts her hand to cling to his arm while his fingertips press against her forehead. )
I feel it - the anchor.
I can hear you there in my head where I usually feel like I don't have any control at all. ( Her eyes burn. She doesn't know what to do with everything she said or how important he is to her and the fact she knows his entire future, and- and all the rest. But she knows she feels his anchor there now. She can reach it. )
...thank you.