I'm Sian. My favorite things are rapidly cycling through hyperfixations and overthinking every aspect of my life.32 She/he/they -Neo pronouns are valid but none for me thx. Currently posting: Final Fantasy XIV, Animorphs, BNHA, cringe
people will see literally a grown adult man with a serious lack of cognitive empathy and a completely justified attitude of bitterness and cynicism toward the cruel behavior of other people and say “wow he’s not very good with people, is he maybe six, mentally? is he like a little man baby man?”
babygirl I’m bothered by noises you wouldn’t even hear
wrote this about sensory issues but people relating because of hallucinations or tinnitus or anything else I am shaking your hand in solidarity if you are comfortable with that
Two sets of footsteps echoed through the cavernous corridors of the citadel, reverberating off cold steel walls; one brisk and heavy, making little effort to slow for the other shuffling softly behind it. The boy was swimming in the too-large woolen coat, his feet slipping inside boots that were similarly oversized as he hurried after the guard ahead of him. Narrow and half starved, finding suitable clothing had been a struggle his wardens put slim effort towards resolving, though it was sufficient. While his teeth still chattered with an unfamiliar, interminable cold the boy was past the worst of it now. He couldn’t fathom how people survived in such a place, and yet clear evidence stood at every turn that they did much and more than just survive. What were they like, these people who lived under such conditions? Surely, they must be as cold as the barren expanse housing their city if the soldiers he’d encountered were anything to go by.
Yet as inauspicious as they were, he’d been treated with a marked lack of cruelty since departing his home. No harsh words were spoken, no motions made to strike him. He’d been fed, clothed, even some of his fresher hurts tended to. All care no doubt intended to ensure he had the capability of traveling unhindered, but he appreciated it, nonetheless.
No tears were shed on either side when the exchange was finished. The only parting words from his father warnings of what would transpire should he ruin this opportunity for them. His mother hadn’t even spared him a second glance. He didn’t care. He didn’t mourn. Perhaps because he was as cold as the soldiers and the homeland, they bore him to. His parents had certainly made it clear from the beginning that he barely qualified as human. Even a dog would flinch when shouted at, shy away when a hand was raised. No _normal_ child could hear so keenly, see as closely, know what had never been shared. As much a threat as a burden, and one happily traded for a chance a better life. The qualities that frightened them had somehow proven valuable.
Those selfsame senses were serving now to stand the boy’s hair on end as the guard escorting him came to a stop outside a wide doorway, behind which he could hear a deep thrumming. Since they’d stepped inside the whole building had a steady hum, like a living, breathing thing. The fortress had a nervous system and here was a somatic center. Rather than fear, he felt a sharp curiosity about what and who lay beyond and he looked from the doors to his escort expectantly. Without acknowledging him she held some sort of card to a panel on the side, triggering a beep that preceded a hiss as the doors slid open.
