[ prp ] my body is a cage ( thezil & reese )

[lizbot]

Watching the smoke curiously, Reese nodded and then explained, "FEELINGS." She had more control over it than when she'd first woken up, but still it was mostly triggered and manipulated by feelings. Although it would be hard to call Reese truly happy, she had gained a certain contentment with her existence. Lighter days occurred more and more often, though it made her anger and depression all the more pronounced by way of contrast.

Leaning forward she sniffed at his new head and asked, "SMELL?" Did the world smell of fresh pumpkin? How did his senses filter through each head?

cherno astra

 

[its me debz]

"I see," he said, committing it to memory. "The modulating of the skellyvision sound was that way." Thezil's pumpkin voice was hoarse and gravelly, like smoke caught in the air. When he was quiet, it was like a whisper in the wind, a breeze that barely moved.

"I do not think I have a sense of smell." He concentrated, trying to identify his senses. Sight and hearing and speech were always built in, guided by the nature of the head. Touch, too, was easy: he still had fingers and skin and somehow could feel when others touched his "face", whatever his face might be at the time.

But taste? Smell? They were untested. Thezil breathed in deep, and physically startled, his flame glowing bright. "Oh," he said, perhaps a speech pattern picked up by a friend, "I do. It is spice and pumpkin and smoke. That is me. My room smells of cleaning product. Then there is you, like laundered clothing and...ghostliness."

He scratched at the chin of his pumpkinhead, baffled but pleased. "I did not know. I never thought to try."

lizbot