“Ah,” Syx frowned softly, “The world has gotten quite… strange since I came here, but roughly speaking it’s still my Metrocity,” it did give a horrible thought, to have truly lost all the people he had known… it was strange enough when his father had become his mother.
He blushed a light lavender when his staring was called out. Worrying his lip in thought, he reminded himself what he had learned from Harrison’s Wayne. Similar, but not the same. He’d had to do a lot of thinking lately anyway… maybe it would be okay to open up a little.
Syx steepled his fingers before him, “Do you know why I throw myself relentlessly at Metro Man despite always failing? It’s the same reason that I used to punch brick walls in prison,” he tipped his head long blue fingers tracing nearly faded away scars on his knuckles, “Because I’m the only one that can get hurt. I know that no robot or laser I throw at him will do more than mess up is hair.”
His bright green eyes sought hers, “Why would I really want him dead? Any of you dead? He’s all that remains of everything I lost. We’re the last. Even if there are technically more of us now.”
“I’ve envied him, I’ve hated him, I’ve loved him, and he’s broken my heart a million ways whether he was aware of it at the time or not,” Syx shook his head with a sigh, “You’re not the first I’ve seen with scars, just not nearly so… severe? It still is just… I put Wayne on a pedestal. He was unbreakable so it was okay to hit him. It was stupid and immature and idiotic as much as it was fun and entertaining. But it meant that when he did get hurt… when I see any of you hurt… it’s as if gravity suddenly failed. I’m still trying to figure out what to do with this new information.”
[Throughout his little speech, Wendalyn has been eating her pretzel and watching him with a seemingly lazy interest. She is listening, but he isn’t saying much that is actually interesting. The most interesting thing that he mentions is having a soured romantic relationship with his Metro Man too.]
You must have misheard me. I said ‘cause injury’, not kill. [She takes another bite of pretzel.] It’s far more attention getting than any half-baked memory bomb.
As for what you do with information like that… You keep it to your fucking self. [The half eaten pretzel pointed at him does nothing to soften the hard look she’s giving him. She is dead serious and he had better realize as much.] Don’t write your theories down. Don’t draw up plans that play off a perceived weakness. If you don’t want my kind dead or worse, you don’t draw attention to the possibility that more than the concentrated power of the sun can harm us.
Syx raised an eyebrow, “Which is exactly why I wouldn’t ‘cause injury’ in the first fucking place. Gods aren’t supposed to bleed,” he snorted, “Just because I get shook up seeing it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to do it. I need to know that so I don’t fuck up and accidentally hurt him. As impossible as I once thought that was.”
“And I am not an idiot,” he smacked the pretzel out of his face, “I know just what those fuckers would do if they could,” his lips drew thin and paled at the unwanted memories, “There isn’t a human on this planet that could piece together my notes even if they were all written down. My technology would be just as bad in their hands as that information would be,” he mumbled like a paranoid man, biting the inside of his cheek to shut up. He’d gotten yelled at by his Uncles too often for his paranoia no matter how warranted Syx knew it to be.
The concentrated power of the sun bit had him rolling his eyes. He hadn’t tested it on Wayne though he had finished building it, “Like that would do more than cause a sudden bought of nakedness.”
RP backup 