2B's thin lips grow ever so thinner, stiff, pinkish-red, and even holding that little gleam of wetness from where her tongue taped over them in quiet. She thinks of what it is to admire someone— to desire and mirror their image intentionally rather than it being a natural thing. She never had that enough to personally understand the concept. What she knows she was is respect and high regard for those who were worthy of it.
Now admiration, that would mean you strive for something. These are mental waters 2B has never crossed before, and now that she tentatively wades through them, and so many other thoughts . . . Where did she want to end up? Where did she strive to change? She never did. Never has. The concept is alien, just how a pure white orchid mantis remains perfectly still on the ledge of a spared chair rest that gives its position away awfully— out of place. She only knew what was already predetermined, what and who she was: A Battler. In actuality, an Executioner, always despising the loop she had been stuck in. Would she really want that for anyone else? A human?
Could she kill God, she wonders again?
"I'm not someone to be admired," she settles with, grim and clipped.
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Now admiration, that would mean you strive for something. These are mental waters 2B has never crossed before, and now that she tentatively wades through them, and so many other thoughts . . . Where did she want to end up? Where did she strive to change? She never did. Never has. The concept is alien, just how a pure white orchid mantis remains perfectly still on the ledge of a spared chair rest that gives its position away awfully— out of place. She only knew what was already predetermined, what and who she was: A Battler. In actuality, an Executioner, always despising the loop she had been stuck in. Would she really want that for anyone else? A human?
Could she kill God, she wonders again?
"I'm not someone to be admired," she settles with, grim and clipped.