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[occultigen]

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[occultigen]

Oh, please believe me, I've endured my fair share of things anyone might call incredibly intrusive, and I doubt anything you might come up with right now should be so offensive as those.

But I am. I'm fortunate to have met him, and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about how lucky I am for it.

[thepuppetmaster]

I believe you.
Bit having endured intrusion doesn't give me a right to add to the experiences.
And in that knowledge, I wouldn't want to.
If we get to know one another better, the answers will come out in their own time.

Though, likewise, if there's anything you want to ask about me, go ahead.
I doubt you could offend me either.

[occultigen]

I'd like that — to get to know you, in time. I haven't any family left, after...everything. So I think...when there's a way to mend a bond like that, it ought to be mended. Sometimes it can't be. But it's worth the try, to see if it can.

...

I do have a question, actually, but I'm afraid you'll find it a bit odd, and perhaps a touch intrusive for my own part. Is that all right?

[thepuppetmaster]

Yeah, that's alright.
Go ahead.

[occultigen]

What color are your eyes?

[thepuppetmaster]

They're orange.

[occultigen]

I was surprised, when Dave first showed me his. But not frightened, exactly. I think...if it'd been anyone else, I might've been, but it was Dave, so I wasn't.

I'm sure yours are lovely, too. Surprising or not.

[thepuppetmaster]

Thanks.
People don't really stare anymore.
Usually.

[occultigen]

People will always find something to stare at.

That's one thing that never changes, no matter the time or place.

[thepuppetmaster]

Guess so.
Something like eyes, though.
You know when people want to stare.
Because they make one hell of an effort not to.

[occultigen]

Yes. And then they can't help themselves anyway.

I knew a boy once with eyes like a cat's — green-gold. I don't know if people still say what they used to about eyes like that, but as I remember it, someone with green-gold eyes was thought to be cursed.

[thepuppetmaster]

Cursed?
Cursed with what?

[occultigen]

Bad luck and misfortune, among other things. The sort of person...that one wouldn't want to get close to, for fear that some of the calamity might catch up with them, too.

[thepuppetmaster]

Superstitious bullshit, in other words.
People can always find ways to be afraid of the things that they don't understand.

[occultigen]

Just so. Superstitious bullshit, very much so.

It's a shame, really. There are already so many things to be afraid of as it is, without making up more of them all on your own.

[thepuppetmaster]

I can agree with you on that.

So, how is my second impression going.
I mean, I think it's going well.
I haven't made any egregious faux pas yet, as far as I can tell.

[occultigen]

I think you're doing a very fine job at it so far, really.

Would you like to ask me a question, in exchange for the one you granted me? To be fair, and all.

[thepuppetmaster]

Really.
You only asked me my eye color, it isn't as if you were prying into details of my tragic and lonely childhood.
If I'm going to ask a question of equal intrusiveness I suppose I should ask you what your favorite ice cream flavor is or something.

Sure.
What's your favorite ice cream flavor.

[occultigen]

Oh, well...I had cucumber ice cream once, in the summer, and it was rather refreshing!

But I think if I had to pick just one favorite, it would be cookie dough! It's marvelous, the bites when one gets a bit of frozen cookie along with the vanilla and the rest.

[thepuppetmaster]

Heh.
Good choice.
I always get brain freeze.