Perfect Illusion

[Maxpphire]

"I too would like for us to be friends," He warmly smiled in agreement not really caring that she had a tendency to be awkward. Everyone had those moments after all. He had stopped with her once she found a piece that caught her interest, and listened to her describe it. It sounded interesting and weird to him.

"A skull, snake, naked woman, and possibly a telephone. Certainly an odd combination." He said thinking about it "I would have guessed maybe it's something about taking part in pleasures, but the skull and snake throw me off on that front." He was curious about what the painting meant as it for sure did seem like an odd one, and in a rare moment, he wished his eyes worked properly so he could see it. He was trying to imagine someone with super loose skin like that and it was something hard to imagine.

[pentagrandma]

“Maybe it’s one of those paintings that just doesn’t have a meaning,” she suggested, features twisted up in bewildered deciphering. “Hidden shapes aside, I feel bad for the old man.” Not that he’s real. “That would be a hard way to live; carrying all of that around with you. I’d bet it’s heavy, and it would drag on the floor, collecting all sorts of unpleasant things.” Not to mention cleaning it. Her nose scrunched at the thought.

... “Hey!” Blurted Ash, sudden and bright. “Maybe that’s what the random objects are symbolic of? Things he’s collected along the way.” With the issuance of a considering hum, and a small shake of her head, she second-guessed, “Probably not.”

[Maxpphire]

"All art has meaning of some kind, even if not to the artist itself. When you look upon it, or listen, or read, or take part in whatever form the art you are enjoying takes, you give it meaning to yourself. Even if it is something as simple of "wow I feel bad for the person in the painting" that's still a definition you're giving to it yourself." He smiled looking towards the painting, "At least that's what I believe, hard to enjoy something if we don't give it our own meaning to enjoy." He added onto the end, as he wasn't trying to force his ideals upon her either.

"From what you described just now gave me a new interpretation of it, sounds as if it shows all the troubles one has gone through and how they carry that emotional weight. After all everyone has skeletons in the closet, people who take advantage of them, bad relationships, and communication issues." He said realizing how that's translated into his own life, the facility, Sam, the past that he runs from, and a habit of oversharing. Maybe he was putting a bit too much thought into the painting itself.

"This is one of the few definitive times I wish my eyes worked properly instead of only part way. I can imagine what a bunch of loose skin would look like but now I'm curious as to what it really does look like, and even feel like. Can imagine it wouldn't feel great, but it's one of those things I've never really thought about before either." He mentioned going off on a bit of a ramble, thinking about what it would be like.

[pentagrandma]

Aislin watched Dreki while he spoke, contemplating his thoughtful smile, and how it had changed shape as he continued; growing pensive. Those were things anyone could relate to, but it seemed that he took particular stock in them. How many skeletons did Dreki have in his closet? How many times had he been taken advantage of? How bad were his bad relationships? And just how many times had he been misunderstood?

She didn’t ask. It was bad manners to pry, but that was only her excuse. In truth, she feared he would be too honest, share too much; feared she would delve far too deep into his plight, and drown trying to save him from it. She couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least; not while she was still a mere foal, careening about the city on teetering legs. Maybe, once her footing had been found - once they knew more of each other, in a shallower sense - maybe then, she could.

Her own lips twisted into a little moue of consideration as she looked back toward the painting. He was right; everything had a meaning to someone, and his had made sense. She shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the painting as superficial. He hadn’t forced his ideals on her, but she was swayed nonetheless. “I think you’re right,” she finally said. “About all of it; finding meaning in things, and the one you found in this. I mean, even a meaning as simple as, ‘it looks nice,’ is still... you know, meaningful.”

Strangely, Ash found herself wishing they could trade roles. Not forever, of course - she didn’t think herself capable of surviving on her own without vision - but temporarily. His way of interpreting things was different from hers in a compelling sort of way; and she wondered if it would change, were he able to see them firsthand. How would he have described this piece to her, had she been the one unseeing?

She could see, but she was overlooking the very things in front of her.

... “I wish I could lend you my eyes.”

[Maxpphire]

Dreki had opened up a bit more than he really thought he had thought his descriptions on what he thought about the artwork they all came across. It hadn't really dawned on him that he had been so open either, just that he was conversing about the pieces in general. It only made sense with his description of how art is all meaningful in some way or another, and despite being book smart, stuff like this generally slipped his mind. When she spoke to him about lending her eyes he looked at her a bit surprised, not expecting anyone to ever make such a statement. It caused him to think for a short moment, but ultimately he settled upon a warm smile.

"You already have," he explained "if not then you wouldn't be here describing artworks to me. I know it's not exactly what you mean, but what you're doing is as close as one can get with that. It's a sweet thought, but you're already doing the next best thing." He did really appreciate what she was doing, more so than what he could really make out in words, part of why he had offered her a meal, which turned into coffee at this point. His night had turned from terrible, to great all things considered, and it's all because she approached him.

"Anything else in the room catching your interest or do you have more to say on this piece?" He asked as he didn't have too much more commentary on what was described to him. He wondered what would call out to her next, or if she just wanted to go grab food now. He didn't mind either way what they did next, but would leave it up to her.

[pentagrandma]

Ash frowned as she met Dreki’s initial look of surprise, thinking that perhaps it had been tasteless for her to say that last part. When he smiled, however, so did she - and she kept on smiling while he spoke. She was glad that she could offer this, at the very least.

His query had her looking around, humming a little sound of consideration. “This way,” she decided, tugging him gently toward a colorful piece she wanted to get a closer look at. Upon arrival, she spent a moment in quiet regard, before supplying her commentary.

“I really like this one,” she began. “The style is kind of reminiscent of pop art; all bold lines and vibrant colors, with very little dimension. It’s a portrait of a girl, with lime-green skin and freckles. Her hair is purple-- no, fuchsia. Like an orchid. Her lips are neon blue. She’s drinking from a water bottle filled with yellow liquid; it dribbles from the corners of her mouth, down to her chin, and spills from a hole in her throat. Like...” There’s a moment of pause spent in consideration. “A stoma, maybe? A tracheal stoma? ... The background is black, flecked with white starbursts. Maybe she’s an alien.”

[Maxpphire]

He had followed her with no resistance, wonder to what she would describe to him next. When they stopped, he listened to her carefully and thought about it for a moment. It sounded very interesting to him, wishing he knew what the colors actually looked like, rather than just the barely out of reach items that are of said colors.

"The creativity of others is amazing," he started pensively with hints of excitement in his voice, "although I wonder how exactly the anatomy of such an alien would work. Would they instantly absorb the nutrients they need through their tongue and thus the waste comes right out? If thats the case then would one really require downstairs plumbing?" He kept the terms as PG as possible, mostly so she wouldn't feel as embarrassed given their earlier conversation, although it wasn't a sexual thought at all. "I wonder if the artist has some sort of medical issue or oddity, as this could also be a very creative expression of such things, feeling alien to others in regards to how their body functions. Maybe indicative of stomach or digestion issues."

He seemed a bit deep in his thoughts at the end of that statement, being reminded of how his stomach had been acting up as of late. He wondered if that was just how his body handled stress, and either didn't notice it before, or if something changed more than his DNA with his last doctor's appointment with Hofflan. He more or less linked it to him having been a poor eater in general for the past several years and having tried to be better about it was just causing him issues. Also unaware he just kind of spilled the fact that maybe there was something wrong with him, and that he felt alien to others, even with the recent realization that other Supernaturals existed and knowing that other altered humans existed, there was only one of him. As far as he was aware of, he was the only one who had been spliced with only angel and absolutely nothing else. That his sense of loneliness was deeper than just physically being alone. While in his thoughts, he looked up at the painting, with a look of longing having slowly taken over his face. He had caught himself however, realized he might be concerning her with his sudden quietness and likely look, he quickly turned it into a smile, although a hint of sadness could be seen behind his eyes if looking for it.

"I really like this one," he mentioned, "The creativity behind it amazes me, regardless if it means something serious or not to the artist. It's different, and in the simplicity of the term, I can understand what it's like being different." He was referencing both his blindness and his unique status of what race he could even be considered as, but assumed that she would pick up on him feeling different from most others simply just due to his blindness.

[pentagrandma]

As before, Aislin had trouble finding any sort of significance in the piece. She favored it because it was colorful and interesting. The girl had the look of a comic book character, and she liked that, too. Of all of the artwork they had admired together, this was the most her in terms of style.

When Dreki had finished his first bout of theorizing, Ash offered a speculative, “Maybe she’s lost her voice. The artist, or the alien girl.” She looked toward him, then, when no immediate response proved forthcoming; watching as his expression slowly warped into one of yearning. Even the following smile he offered was wistful, and shaped by sorrow. A sympathetic frown twisted her own lips as her hand slid unbidden down his arm - stopping just shy of clasping his. Instead, her fingertips touched tentatively to his palm in a bid to comfort.

Of course, Ash hadn’t made any connection toward Dreki’s affinity with the alien girl, beyond that of his blindness. Still, she felt for him - and found herself wishing, again, that she could do more. After a period of carefully composing her thoughts, she said, “Most everyone wants to be someone else at one point in their life. There are people who feel like outcasts, and just want to fit in; and ordinary folk who want to be seen as individuals... I always thought I was special because I was different from those in my hometown - but here, I’m just the same as everyone else. You may be blind, but you’ve got a way of seeing things that I can’t even begin to comprehend. I wish I could view the world through your lens...

“I think,” she continued, “What I'm trying to say is, it’s okay to be different. I’m of the belief that it’s something to be proud of. I mean, no two people are really the same, anyway.” Again, she paused, taking a moment to chew anxiously at her lower lip. Maybe she was saying too much; being too presumptuous. “I know we only just met, but I already see so much good in you... I hope you won’t feel alienated forever.”

[Maxpphire]

He had felt her hand move down his arm and touch his palm, his left palm, his scarred hand. When he felt her stop at his palm and not grab his hand, he was worried. The smooth and soft texture of his left palm would for sure give away the scar that made it up and wondered if that prevented her from going for the full grab. He wasn't sure what to do at first, but when she started to speak, for what seemed to be about trying to comfort him, he decided to bend his fingers towards hers, in acceptance of what she was trying to do. Her words didn't exactly fit his scenario, in fact it supported the thing he was upset with more, but she didn't know and she was just trying to comfort him. He wasn't going to upset over it, there was no need given how she was coming from a place of good.

"You claim everyone is different and yet you spout that you're the same, what am I supposed to believe?" He half joked, then continued on a more serious note. "You're more different than you think. You're probably the only person who would have ever gone up to me, if I had stayed here alone. It's enough to have made my night better than what it was going. I might feel alienated from others at times, but then, I run into moments like these, and I feel more, what's the right word here," he took a moment to think, "I guess I tend to forget about my own issues for a bit and it's nice. While you can see the good in me, I can see the good in you, and it does far surpass most people I know." He spoke in an appreciative tone, he felt his wordsay have come out a bit awkwardly, he wasn't sure how to express how he was currently feeling, but he was enjoying himself at the very least.

"Also in regards to the artist being mute, I could see that as a possibility too, that's an interesting take on that. I wasn't ignoring you there, I promise. I just got lost in my thoughts, as you've already noticed, and talked me through them in a sense." He could relate with that as well, given how he shouldn't, no couldn't, tell her about what he is. After all it would.just chase her away like it did with Sam. He finally made a friend of sorts, he wanted to at least keep being her friend, and have someone who he could hang out with and talk to sometimes. He felt his chest tighten a bit, part of him became worried, what if he grew to like her as more than such? Would she come into danger? He realized even if he did grow to like her more, that he would need to keep it to himself, lest she get in harm's way.

"Also to start seeing things my way, you might have to blindfold yourself and try moving around without hurting yourself. Sure it isn't a true way of how I see now, but it was how I saw as a child," he said jokingly, "although I wouldn't recommend it. It's less fun than it sounds." He was masking his sudden sense of worry with jokes, mostly to keep her not as worried with how he felt.

[pentagrandma]

Ash paid no mind to the scar on Dreki’s hand; well, almost none. She ran the tip of her forefinger once across it, marveling at its smoothness, but was ultimately undeterred. When his fingers curved toward hers, she took it as invitation, and wove her own between. Her hand felt small, tangled up in his; and for a moment, she marveled at that, too.

Still, she frowned as he spoke. “You know what I mean,” she began, in response to his half-jest. “I know there’s no other me out there, and I know I’ve got my good qualities, but I can’t help but to sometimes feel like... a lamb, and lambs are just baby sheep.” She exhaled a little puff of self-deprecating laughter, then added, “I’m glad I could turn your night around, though, and make it into something semi-positive. Don’t worry, I didn’t feel ignored.”

After subjecting his hand to a gentle squeeze, she queried, in a partial-jest of her own, “If I walk around blindfolded for a day, would you be my guide?”

[Maxpphire]

"Semi-positive? More like you completely turned my night around. Give yourself credit now." He smiled at her, feeling her hand clasp around his and thus his clasped around hers. It was a gentle hold, he felt suddenly a tad nervous, but a good nervous. "You might be a baby sheep, but that just means you have room and time to grow. Most people change throughout their lives because they've grown and learned from their past. Try to remember that next time you feel like a lamb, that it's ok to feel like one, because it'll give you the ability to learn and grow from your past." He was trying to give her a way to encourage herself the next time she felt down. He then felt the light squeeze on his hand, and her question. He smiled knowing that it was basically her way of trying to get to know him a bit more in a way.

"I can try, but I cannot promise it will be as profound as what you've done for me tonight," He said open to the idea and underplaying the experience a bit. Mostly so she wouldn't be disappointed if it was more of mundane tasks. "We could try to go to a grocery store or something, and have you shop for groceries or something else that's basic like that. A lot of it boils down to memory, relying on your other senses, and sometimes even technology. Having a smart phone is a delight mostly because it's another tool in my arsenal to use to help out. To the point where I'm not even sure I could survive without one anymore." He began to think a bit on what they could do for that. "If you want I'll even let you borrow my old walking cane for the experience"

[pentagrandma]

How was it that Ash was now being the one consoled, when she’d been trying to comfort him? Typical. Still, she did feel better. Smiling now, she said, “Oh, gosh! Grocery shopping is already such a chore, I can’t even imagine having to do it without seeing.” ... When the realization dawned that it might sound as though she were ungrateful for the advantage she had, she hastened to add, “But I will do it, so that I can understand; even just a little.”

Her gaze dipped toward their joined hands, and a measure of uncertainty crept into her expression. Should she let go? Had she already held on for too long? What was appropriate here? So much for avoiding intimacy with a stranger. “Are you ready to go to the cafe?” She settled upon asking, keeping her hand within his.

... “Would you like for me to guide you to the exit, or do you prefer to manage on your own now?” There. Let him decide if they should remain connected.

[Maxpphire]

"Well we don't have to go grocery shopping per say, it was just something that came to mind first. If there is something else you want to try, I can do my best to guide you through it. I do think an everyday task of somekind would be the easiest for me to kind of show you what I go through." He said thinking a bit more about what else they could do, even though she said she would do it, he wanted her to enjoy the process too. Even if it was something mundane, he wanted to teach her what he dealt with usually but he also wanted her to be willing to learn too.

"Yeah I'm ready to head to the cafe now if you are," he smiled at her, noticing she looked down at their hands and asked if he needed to be guided. He blushed a little, he didn't want to let go, but at the same time, he values his independence. He lightly squeezed her hand, "Well, I don't need to be guided, but, I enjoy this." He spoke timidly, and didn't exactly look at her, "if it makes you uncomfortable however, feel free to let go. It won't bother me either way." He seemed to be kind of embarrassed even admitting that to her. Part of him felt worried, maybe he was enjoying her company too much. It then turned into worry that she would find out what he is, and instead of at least becoming friends, that she too would walk away.

He sort of hated himself for this. He knew he was becoming quickly attached to her, he had no idea how to stop his own emotions from being like that. He wondered if it just because of how intensely lonely he felt at times. He waited for her to either let go of his hand and start walking, or to start walking while still holding his hand. He would understand either way and wouldn't be upset, he appreciated the moment it happened. He wasn't going to push his luck with her beyond that. He was going to enjoy his friendship with her, no matter how short of a time it ended up being, of which he was convinced that sooner or later, she would walk away from him, much like Sam had. He was kind of surprised Drew hadn't run off from him yet, but he wondered if it was more the nature of Drew's career that kept him around sometimes when he felt really like shit, which was happening quite a bit these past could if weeks.

[pentagrandma]

With the partial tightening of his fingers around hers, Ash lifted her focus anew. It was hard to miss the fact that he no longer looked at her; especially after having maintained such mystifying eye-contact prior. And then, she noted, there was that subtle bloom of color. He was embarrassed. It was sweet, and she appreciated his honesty. He could have just as easily played it as though her help was wanted, and she’d have been none the wiser.

She rewarded his courage by way of keeping their hands clasped, smiling as she began to start forward. “Elevator or stairs?” She prompted, opting not to comment on his nervous confession. For all she knew, he was touch-deprived. Physical contact was something she believed that everyone needed every once in a while; as important to the well-being of a person as maintaining a balanced diet. What was it that Mother Teresa had said? ... There is more hunger for love and appreciation in this world than for bread.

Aislin was no Mother Teresa, but she could still hold Dreki’s hand.

“You know how to get there, right?” She then asked, in reference to the cafe.

[Maxpphire]

He smiled as Ash started to walk forward, still holding his hand, as he walked with her. It felt nice, feeling physically connected to a person even with something as minor as holding hands. Since he had given up on one night stands, he had physically isolated himself without meaning to. Which was indeed a better feeling than the hollowness he had experienced after said moments, but not by much. He couldn't reliably figure out how he felt in regards to this all, except it was good feelings, good emotions. He hadn't quite felt so happy in a while, and thus, hoped their friendship would continue, but really that depended on how the night went.

"Either or work, whatever is easier for you," he said in regards to the elevator or stairs. Had it been 10+ years ago, and he still used a cane, he would have chosen the elevator as when fully blind, it's easier to go up rather than down when it came to stairs. Now that he could tell where one ended, it wasn't so hard at all to use them.

"Of course I know where it is," he spoke with happy sounding confidence, to pick up a slightly more serious tone after, "Most cities have their dangers at night, this one is no exception, but between the two of us, it will be fine. It can be a lengthy walk from here though, would you rather we grab an Uber or use the public transport?" He then asked her. He knew they would be safe because if anything dared happen, he would step in, knowing he is more durable than she is. "The walk from the Cafe to my place isn't that far so walking me home will be easy enough." He mentioned thinking a bit, going more off of what she wanted to do than anything.