voice; 001

[tekhartha]

I had never given much thought to sexual intimacy before I arrived here.

[The soft, sonorous thrum of Zenyatta's voice comes drifting across the network like a cloud on the wind, punctuated haphazardly by the faintest of chimes as his orbs circle, unseen. His tone is carefully neutral, curious and undemanding, as he continues.]

When my omnic brothers and sisters liberated ourselves, some among us chose to forsake such human forms of sexual gratification as symbolic of our subservience; our bodies were built for the use of humans, and our ability to feel physical pleasure merely a supplement to human pleasure. To use them as free, sentient beings was to agree that we were little more than shallow imitations of our creators.

I had not considered my own path at all, until now- and, for my ignorance, it is all I can think about for a few days each month!

[Wryly amused for a second there before he continues. If he is being perfectly honest there is one person in particular who is driving him to distraction, but... he hums.]

I believe I would like to try it for myself, under the right circumstances, yet I find myself-- quite unsure. Would any of you be so kind as to share your own first experiences? [brightly:] "Virginity" is merely a social construct, of course, but I am sure each of you has a story you might care to tell!

Comments

[tekhartha]

[There is something in the soft, unsteady lilt of the voice that falters across the network that sets-- not a chill in Zenyatta, but a profound unease that lingers as the man speaks. Recounts, in fragments, a disorienting story of pain and pleasure and devotion- though it sounds more like obsession than it does love.

He does not have to ask who he is. Already he suspects that he exists only in this man's fractured mind.

A part of him, the part that still uses Mondatta's voice, reminds him that it is not for him to judge another's past. He holds onto it, and answers with the utmost kindness.]

There are many forms of love in this world- it is not always soft and gentle, and sometimes it will hurt. But it is never cruel. When one grows accustomed to a fist, it becomes easy to become infatuated with it on the rare occasion that it is simply a hand.

[veryhuman]

Right?

[ A very small sigh. ] I will tell you that fist never became a hand. Yet he still hopes one day that it will be. With enough diligence, with enough love, with enough devotion... those sort of words when given to someone cold turn to chains.

I hope you will not find yourself in such a situation for your first love. Virginity is a social construct. But love is love, isn't it? For the first one you love, be careful with whom you decide to bind yourself to. I would not wish for you to end up being unable to escape, like that poor creature.

[tekhartha]

[His words are wild, untamed by reason on their journey from his mind to the tip of his tongue, but they are no less true for it. Zenyatta's heart aches for him, for his loss, for the pain he has locked away in a heart that is not his own.]

There is always hope, in life and in love. I pray that he will find a way to break the chain and begin again. [wistfully:] I realise it seems an impossible feat. Sometimes I fear that, should I be presented with the chance, I might love too deeply and recklessly, or not at all. I am not sure which would be worse.

I think I would rather hurt.

[veryhuman]

A little hurt is fine.

[ A soft hum. ]

But destroying yourself will ... it won't allow you to become closer to what you want to be, my dear new friend. [ His voice turns a little cheerful in turn. ] After all, your words and your soul is kind. Which means you, too, wish to be kind, right?

My meaning... do you understand it?