11-12-2015, 01:31 PM
As the pair drew closer to the other set of Primes languishing on the automobile, Nealaphh noticed as the one in white seemed to take special notice of the shadow. Perhaps it was just that seeing an avian organism adorning the shoulder of a mysterious traveler in the Dunes was in and of itself worthy of lingering attention, but the way her eyes continually narrowed and widened suggested something a tad more insightful. As its was, however Tom's greeting seemed to have fallen short of their goal of appearing non-chalant. Ultimately, this was only to be a passing meeting, so hopefully it would not matter in the long run.
Nealaphh could get very little from the white-clad figure's thoughts. It was as if she was consciously preventing herself from projecting any sort of outward thinking, almost as if she was trying to be polite. Her physical form was intriguing as well, as she appeared to be made from some sort of white, chitinous substance and wrapped in humble cloth. It was almost evocative of Nealaphh's own usual mortal appearance, but the god-mind decided that this most vague of coincidences as nothing more than precisely that.
Her companion, however, was a veritable orchestra of uncontrolled thought and emotion, and one that was badly out of tune, at that. The sheer amount of animosity and restlessness that emanated from Dean Winchester's mind (it was hardly difficult to glean his name from the ambient thoughts) was an abstract melange that soothed Nealaphh's soul in a way he hadn't felt for some time. The sheer freedom and abandon with which Dean carried himself was the kind of attitude the God-Mind dearly wished that it could share. Alas, until it had assumed complete control of the Omniverse, it would have to maintain an image of quiescent charisma. How tiring. At present, however, it seemed as though the Winchester man was highly aggravated by the presence of Tom and his stupid bird. The god-mind feared the possibility of an altercation, and so briefly scanned the demon's mind for anything that might temporarily placate him.
Tell him you like his car. Nealaphh said, relaying the words to Tom.
Nealaphh could get very little from the white-clad figure's thoughts. It was as if she was consciously preventing herself from projecting any sort of outward thinking, almost as if she was trying to be polite. Her physical form was intriguing as well, as she appeared to be made from some sort of white, chitinous substance and wrapped in humble cloth. It was almost evocative of Nealaphh's own usual mortal appearance, but the god-mind decided that this most vague of coincidences as nothing more than precisely that.
Her companion, however, was a veritable orchestra of uncontrolled thought and emotion, and one that was badly out of tune, at that. The sheer amount of animosity and restlessness that emanated from Dean Winchester's mind (it was hardly difficult to glean his name from the ambient thoughts) was an abstract melange that soothed Nealaphh's soul in a way he hadn't felt for some time. The sheer freedom and abandon with which Dean carried himself was the kind of attitude the God-Mind dearly wished that it could share. Alas, until it had assumed complete control of the Omniverse, it would have to maintain an image of quiescent charisma. How tiring. At present, however, it seemed as though the Winchester man was highly aggravated by the presence of Tom and his stupid bird. The god-mind feared the possibility of an altercation, and so briefly scanned the demon's mind for anything that might temporarily placate him.
Tell him you like his car. Nealaphh said, relaying the words to Tom.
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued