01-20-2017, 09:36 PM
He'd lost them when the world changed. What was once the regular annoyance of telepathic siblings come to check on his welfare, was suddenly a drop into real silence. At first, he enjoyed it. He was always sneaking off to find some alone time away from the eager care of his family, and now he didn't have to. But too soon it had become worrying, distressing. They were a constant in his life, every one of them. Where had they all gone?
Ever the carefree and fun, the one that tries to make others laugh though he cannot hear it, he slowly morphed into something different. Something much less fun and so dreary. A crease had stuck between his worried brows and his feet dragged careless tracks in the snow. He looked around, always searching, but there were no yellow sisters coming to speak in his mind, be his mouthpiece to others. His father had taught him to use his voice, form words and speak, but he didn't like to. Avoided it, if he could. His sisters had laughed, so it must be a terrible voice.
And now he passed, a melancholy soul that had once been so very bright and sunny. Instead of rolling in beds of flowers, watching their pollen sweep up and drift like colorful dust, he walked. Just walked. And bumped into things. Warm things that smelled pretty.
He stepped back and looked up, brown eyes falling on not one, but two pretty faces to go with the pretty smells. His sorrows were swept away for the time, welcoming the distraction of new people to meet, and a lopsided grin tipped his mouth upward. Oh, but they both looked so unhappy! His brows pulled together and black muzzle reached for a blue one, then the other, blowing sweet breaths. He reached for the darker girl, who looked so much sadder, and gently nudged under her chin. Chin up! Then he swung his hips and settled in next to the peach girl, completely at ease with such nearness to complete strangers.
After a long moment, he worked up the courage to say the one thing he'd practiced endless times so that he wouldn't mess up his own name whenever he had to say it for others.
"Baymax." Deep, strange, a little off. Then he smiled again, looking from one to the other and already formulating how one might make them happy for a time. His eyes fell to their lips often, ready to put more of his father's teachings to use and read their words, though he much preferred looking into their lovely eyes. Lovely, but sad eyes. He hoped to fix that though.
Ever the carefree and fun, the one that tries to make others laugh though he cannot hear it, he slowly morphed into something different. Something much less fun and so dreary. A crease had stuck between his worried brows and his feet dragged careless tracks in the snow. He looked around, always searching, but there were no yellow sisters coming to speak in his mind, be his mouthpiece to others. His father had taught him to use his voice, form words and speak, but he didn't like to. Avoided it, if he could. His sisters had laughed, so it must be a terrible voice.
And now he passed, a melancholy soul that had once been so very bright and sunny. Instead of rolling in beds of flowers, watching their pollen sweep up and drift like colorful dust, he walked. Just walked. And bumped into things. Warm things that smelled pretty.
He stepped back and looked up, brown eyes falling on not one, but two pretty faces to go with the pretty smells. His sorrows were swept away for the time, welcoming the distraction of new people to meet, and a lopsided grin tipped his mouth upward. Oh, but they both looked so unhappy! His brows pulled together and black muzzle reached for a blue one, then the other, blowing sweet breaths. He reached for the darker girl, who looked so much sadder, and gently nudged under her chin. Chin up! Then he swung his hips and settled in next to the peach girl, completely at ease with such nearness to complete strangers.
After a long moment, he worked up the courage to say the one thing he'd practiced endless times so that he wouldn't mess up his own name whenever he had to say it for others.
"Baymax." Deep, strange, a little off. Then he smiled again, looking from one to the other and already formulating how one might make them happy for a time. His eyes fell to their lips often, ready to put more of his father's teachings to use and read their words, though he much preferred looking into their lovely eyes. Lovely, but sad eyes. He hoped to fix that though.