[For the time it takes him to consider his answers and the time he spends speaking, she works toward petals, leaves, a stem - progressively the shape gains form and clarity, the product of diligent attention. That focus wavers only from time to time, and she takes her pauses where she needs to to keep from making mistakes.]
[Like after that first portion of his answer, when she glances up at him naturally in tandem with her own smile, only for it to waver, because even in as short a look as that she can see that there's something amiss with him. What it could be she isn't certain, but it's easy enough to guess that there are complications of some indeterminate nature with his brother. It doesn't sound like a failing in their relationship, exactly, but she hasn't got enough information to make an assumption one way or another, and her familiarity with siblings is sketchy at best. Instead, she listens as she always does, brows raising at the mention of who really made Baymax and lowering again, deeper than before, toward the end.]
It sounds like you and your brother are both very talented. [There's a soft sort of thoughtfulness to it; that's the part she responds to first because the rest is still percolating, still simmering under the surface.] There are a lot of people where I come from who can do some pretty amazing things, but I've never known anyone who could create someone like Baymax, or any other sort of robot. [She's primarily had to learn about that type of entity since coming to Cerealia, in fact.] If I ever meet Tadashi, I'll have to tell him so, too. [There goes the stem, cleanly, delicately curving.] I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of the two of you.
[But there's no malice in it; it's said so placidly that despite the lack of any explanation as to why, her tone makes it fairly obvious that it's more a token jealousy than the actual emotion. It isn't for their technological skill - no, it's the first part she covets, that togetherness and the comfort of having a family, having someone with whom there is the unbreakable bond of blood. As a Nobody, she can claim no such relation... not even to parents.]
[Exhaling, she shapes a leaf. Midway through it, she seems to come to a conclusion about how to address the rest of his words, and begins,] Where I'm from, there are several worlds close together. Not very many people ever have the chance to see more than one of them - but most people never know that the others exist to begin with, either. So I would say... [The end of that leaf takes form. She begins another.] ... you're halfway there. [It's not so simple as that, is never so simple - but he's already proven himself capable enough in the realm of technology. It's not hard for her to imagine him finding some way to manage it, if he's truly dedicated to it.]
[That's something for another time, though, and she sets it aside.] I think it's easier, too - when other people understand. No matter what the situation. But... [And here she pauses. The art is nearing its completion, though deciding what other touches to add isn't why she stops, the corners of her mouth turning down.] ... there are some things that shouldn't be shared. [Except that doesn't sound right at all, does it? And so she clarifies.] There are some things-- that I would never wish on anybody.
[Frowning, she begins to move again. A little adjustment here, a little addition there.] So if more than one person has had those kind of experiences, or suffered through the same things - it's hard to be glad about that, even if it does make it seem less lonely.
no subject
[Like after that first portion of his answer, when she glances up at him naturally in tandem with her own smile, only for it to waver, because even in as short a look as that she can see that there's something amiss with him. What it could be she isn't certain, but it's easy enough to guess that there are complications of some indeterminate nature with his brother. It doesn't sound like a failing in their relationship, exactly, but she hasn't got enough information to make an assumption one way or another, and her familiarity with siblings is sketchy at best. Instead, she listens as she always does, brows raising at the mention of who really made Baymax and lowering again, deeper than before, toward the end.]
It sounds like you and your brother are both very talented. [There's a soft sort of thoughtfulness to it; that's the part she responds to first because the rest is still percolating, still simmering under the surface.] There are a lot of people where I come from who can do some pretty amazing things, but I've never known anyone who could create someone like Baymax, or any other sort of robot. [She's primarily had to learn about that type of entity since coming to Cerealia, in fact.] If I ever meet Tadashi, I'll have to tell him so, too. [There goes the stem, cleanly, delicately curving.] I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of the two of you.
[But there's no malice in it; it's said so placidly that despite the lack of any explanation as to why, her tone makes it fairly obvious that it's more a token jealousy than the actual emotion. It isn't for their technological skill - no, it's the first part she covets, that togetherness and the comfort of having a family, having someone with whom there is the unbreakable bond of blood. As a Nobody, she can claim no such relation... not even to parents.]
[Exhaling, she shapes a leaf. Midway through it, she seems to come to a conclusion about how to address the rest of his words, and begins,] Where I'm from, there are several worlds close together. Not very many people ever have the chance to see more than one of them - but most people never know that the others exist to begin with, either. So I would say... [The end of that leaf takes form. She begins another.] ... you're halfway there. [It's not so simple as that, is never so simple - but he's already proven himself capable enough in the realm of technology. It's not hard for her to imagine him finding some way to manage it, if he's truly dedicated to it.]
[That's something for another time, though, and she sets it aside.] I think it's easier, too - when other people understand. No matter what the situation. But... [And here she pauses. The art is nearing its completion, though deciding what other touches to add isn't why she stops, the corners of her mouth turning down.] ... there are some things that shouldn't be shared. [Except that doesn't sound right at all, does it? And so she clarifies.] There are some things-- that I would never wish on anybody.
[Frowning, she begins to move again. A little adjustment here, a little addition there.] So if more than one person has had those kind of experiences, or suffered through the same things - it's hard to be glad about that, even if it does make it seem less lonely.