They.. aren't threatening to put out your eyes, are they? No, no. You're being unflattering again, you're sure, but just in case, you slide on the unfamiliar glasses as soon as OA presents them to you.
(Everyone hates your eyes, but honestly, you don't understand why. You like them better than the rosewood they should be: the way they blind you in the light is thoroughly unlovable, but they look nice against the swarthy complexion of your skin, and they go well with your clothes. All of your clothes, because white goes with everything.)
(It's not like it's an actual mutation! Some of the people they let past the culling pits these days are honestly distressing; for heavens sake, you saw a girl with multiple pupils out and about the other night, and you don't understand how no one seems to have a problem with that.)
You forgot how soothing it is to have glasses on. For the first time in hours, the suns indirect light doesn't leave you feeling like there are needles in your eyes, and the sparks still dancing at the edge of your vision are reduced to mere blurs. The tint on the glasses is weaker than what you prefer, but the way the worlds gone dark is comforitng.
"They're not cull-worthy," you retort with a sniff. They're not threatening to put your orbs out, but the joke still leaves you feeling defensive. "Everyone always asks that, like - haah - they've never seen a psi- a ps- someone with powers before."
"You're lucky you're so tall." Your tone is playful, but it's not quite a joke. You can see their eyes, bright as the sky behind them, but with the glasses on, they almost look normal. "I bet no one can even see your orbs up there, can they?"
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(Everyone hates your eyes, but honestly, you don't understand why. You like them better than the rosewood they should be: the way they blind you in the light is thoroughly unlovable, but they look nice against the swarthy complexion of your skin, and they go well with your clothes. All of your clothes, because white goes with everything.)
(It's not like it's an actual mutation! Some of the people they let past the culling pits these days are honestly distressing; for heavens sake, you saw a girl with multiple pupils out and about the other night, and you don't understand how no one seems to have a problem with that.)
You forgot how soothing it is to have glasses on. For the first time in hours, the suns indirect light doesn't leave you feeling like there are needles in your eyes, and the sparks still dancing at the edge of your vision are reduced to mere blurs. The tint on the glasses is weaker than what you prefer, but the way the worlds gone dark is comforitng.
"They're not cull-worthy," you retort with a sniff. They're not threatening to put your orbs out, but the joke still leaves you feeling defensive. "Everyone always asks that, like - haah - they've never seen a psi- a ps- someone with powers before."
"You're lucky you're so tall." Your tone is playful, but it's not quite a joke. You can see their eyes, bright as the sky behind them, but with the glasses on, they almost look normal. "I bet no one can even see your orbs up there, can they?"