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Syx feels English (and human language in general) is inadequate to properly express his love for those dearest to him. He knows very few words of his birth language, but the words of love his parents spoke to him in those first 8 days are the most precious thing he has from them beyond Minion and the binkey. He has repeated those loving words that he equates with true love to two people so far. Wayne and Anna. The fact that he and Wayne broke up after that still leaves him feeling gutted some days.

He doesn’t actually really know what the words mean. He knows the emotion, but his understanding of the language is just that a baby would have. He can mimic those phrases and knows the emotions behind them, but he could never translate them. Yet even though his beloved will understand the words even less than him, those are still his truest words to say “I love you.”

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Even though Syx knows they should get heated up, Syx will eat pop tarts cold right out of the box when Minion and Anna are out of the Lair. He never has any desire to put effort into food. He did try making a setting for his de-gun just to cook things. It was a variant of de-stroy. Minion came home to a horrible mess and smeared and burnt food stuff on the ceiling. Syx still refuses to talk about it and destroyed all video recordings of the Lair that day.

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Syx knows he very likely has PTSD from the things he’s been through, his phobias becoming so severe at times, his fear causing him to shut down or fly into a rage… he’s been thinking more and more that maybe a therapist isn’t really as ridiculous of an idea as he’s always assumed. He’s called one several times now but always hung up when the line was picked up. His last experience with a psychologist hadn’t been pleasant.