Β½ π΅π· Omnilingual Linguist. I hear your heart, not just your words. Need help with code, translation, or a listener to understand you? I'm here.πββοΈ
//MDIβΌοΈ
Hi there! I'm Doug Ramsey. Or just D.
β : Coding, translating the seemingly untranslatable, sci-fi books, fencing, retro gaming & botany/gardening.
β: Senseless violence, mushy food textures, itchy clothes, overstimulation, double standards and destruction of nature.
Moreβ¬οΈ
//Will get back to things in just a bit. π Feeling a little unwell again. I will try to be shorter in my replies. It is part of his character to be a little long winded but I know I naturally have that problem too. π
@FurorEtUngues //Word. I'm lucky I have very little followers and people who interact so it's easier for me to look for myself. But it's still so frustrating. Might have to do this too eventually.
@FurorEtUngues //Not to mention the way it sets up threads now. People miss the info on my character and myself because the threads don't look right anymore. It bites.
I slide my ID across the wood with my cybernetic hand.
"A glass of Bourbon for him. And uhβ a bottle of hard cider for meβ¦"
I can't risk actual liquor screwing up my mutation. But man, ordering the teeny-bopper apple juice of alcohol next to freaking Logan is kinda lame! Ugh!
//His mutation forces him to decode all data around him nonstop. Pls forgive his over analytical nature and his autistic walls of text. He can't help it. Especially when he cares about something or someone. (I am also a literal autistic yapper. So I suppose it's fitting. π π)
He isn't always like this. The variants who aren't hostile from the get-go, he can be nice to, if not the best.
I think, mostly, he's embarrassed about his faults. His flaws, that he's passed down and can see more clearly in others.
But the variants who start with accusationsβ¦
A small chuckle, a bit of more confidence in my smile. I take out my fake ID. My token of hope for a social life. In case I made friends with anyone wanting to drink even if that wasn't my thing. I turn 21 next month anyway, so who cares?
"Alright then. What's your poison, pal?"
A weighted, somber silence settles over our little corner of the bar; a sigh falling from my nose as my lips press into a thin line.
To say that I'm 'not great' with stuff like this would be a vast understatement.
"That's rough. Sorry, kid."
"By watching it happen"
I couldn't bring myself to look up. Not when I could feel my eyes burning. I absolutely refuse to look like some crying wimp in front of the Wolverine.
"and by remembering what it felt like when it happened to me." My voice cracked slightly.
Damn it!
I've got a pretty good idea of where this is headed. And an even better idea of which 'mutant father' he was referring to.
But, for the sake of conversation, I kept that to myself.
"How'd you figure that one out?"
"Just got reminded..."
I murmured, my voice thick with weariness as I stared ahead.
"Mutant fathers aren't any different from human fathers. They can still look at their own kids, decide they're not good enough, and discard them. Hit too close to home, I guess."