PRISMAGRAM POST

[ritterstand]

( This is is a general Instagram/Prismagram mingle post! Feel free to post your character's heavily filtered photos, thirst traps, random videos, memes etc! Be warned that due to image content, this post may be slow to load.)

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Comments

[cadeuces]

I'm sure they've been quite hurt.
I can't imagine it myself, either. I'm equally certain we're all a little guilty of it in the end, no matter how we try to suppress it.
It's difficult to be intimate with someone and not develop feelings for them, I think.

private

[tekhartha]

[It is, Zenyatta knows, painfully true- and that is what gives him pause.

Finally, falteringly, he switches to DMs.]

I think I am falling in love.

private

[cadeuces]

( Oh!! Oh, Zenyatta, she's surprised but the message alone already has her smiling. Likely not Genji, as their bond is both a stronger and more delicate sort, but perhaps... )

Would you like to meet to speak about it in person?

[tekhartha]

That is not a terrible idea. I shall be with you shortly.

[Although he does take an uncharacteristically long time to announce his presence at the door when he does arrive, hovering outside as if he were an unwanted guest. It hovers about him even once he's crossed the threshhold.]

Thank you for making time for me, Angela. I am- a little overwhelmed.

[cadeuces]

( When he does finally announce himself, she's quick to the door and reaching for him, hand for an elbow to guide him inside with as warm a smile as ever, head tipped to his general air of discomfort. )

Please, you never have to thank me when I love your company; it's good to see you, even if a bit frazzled.

( And if he'll let her, her other hand lowers and reaches out in the subtlest offer for an embrace, if it would help. He said he was in love, but also that he is overwhelmed. She doesn't want to make that worse, but she thinks he could use the contact. Perhaps confirmation that his core is running hotter, as if his heart were beating faster. )

Isn't that what friends are for? Helping us sort the pieces out, sometimes. Come, let's sit.

[tekhartha]

[There is, as always, something of the hearth about Angela as she greets him, a glow that conjures a sense of homecoming; even his own vagabond heart, beholden to no single homestead, cannot help but respond to it.]

They are. [With only that slightest of invitations he spills forward, squeezing her strong, yielding curves against him for a few moments. When Zenyatta steps back his shoulders have fractionally sunk, and the warmth of his core has reduced.] Thank you, Angela.

[He sits. He teases the fabric of his trousers- the outer seam is loose, he notes silently, he should repair it.

Little distractions.]

I may be walking a terribly foolish path.

[cadeuces]

( It's that moment's hesitation inside her doorway that seems to break once it seats itself back in the frame with a click and has him spilling into the embrace that leaves her heart in her throat, swallowing heavy over that sympathetic lump on his behalf.

He squeezes her tight, and she brings a hand up to cradle his head to her, rocking her weight from one foot to the other to sway him along with it before he's easing, and she sneaks a kiss to his metal temple before withdrawing entirely. She's still holding his hand as they part, looking up at him with a little smile that reassures him even as his body language eases. Then draws him in toward the sofa where they both draw up their legs and her own rest halfway atop the metal limb clothed in thick trousers. )

And how foolish could it possibly be? To the point of stumbling off a cliffside, or tripping over some roots across the way for scuffed knees?

[tekhartha]

[Zenyatta has never been rocked before. The sensation is strange, almost giddy- it is what parents do for beloved children in distress, he thinks, and though he is scarcely a child there is still something peaceful about being soothed like one.

Like dancers they separate, shift, and return to one another on the sofa. The place where Angela's lips have invisibly marked him is still barely warm from her body.]

I am not sure. Perhaps it would be wrong to call it a trip or stumble. That implies accident. [He sighs softly, leaning into her shoulders and lacing his arm through hers. At this rate they'll be a tangle of limbs before the conversation is over.] He has warned me that he will hurt me, though I cannot believe that. But I suppose the fault would be mine, if it were to happen.

[cadeuces]

( For children, perhaps, but its no less successful on adults, either. At least in her experience. There's something reminiscent in the motion for everyone, some throwback to memories or seeing it in the media with a deeper link to comfort. It's like dancing, soothing and slow, drawn in closer for it.

All that matters to her is that it helps. And it seems to have, as his movements become more fluid and he moves along with her, settling, leaning. Slender fingers lace with his and she draws it up to press another kiss to the flats of his fingertips, counter-leaning to him. )

Perhaps; what I meant to ask instead was: how badly would you be knowingly hurting yourself if you take this "perilous path"? And does he mean emotionally, or physically?

( She knows there's a difference between an unstable heart and a volatile temper, or someone unable to maintain or control their own strength— no one had to intentionally lash out to cause damage to those around them. And she knows the struggles of trying to love someone who refuses to acknowledge the good or worth in themselves. She doesn't know how deep Zenyatta's patience runs or where his thresholds may lie for how much he can "take", no matter how wise he comes off. Already, she worries for him. )