我这双手以前也是挽过大弓、降过烈马的。可是现在只能在这阴诡地狱里搅弄风云了。// These hands of mine once drew great bows and tamed fierce horses. But now, they can only stir up the storm in this scheming hell.
(Mei Changsu, episode 11)
The way he reaches into the coals until the heat forces him to flinch back, and as he does so you can't entirely tell whether he's laughing or sobbing...
The way he says this whilst looking at his own unrecognisable hands...
The way this feels like the first time in the show--after seeing him in brief moments seem to mourn those who are lost or places that have changed or people he still walks among but can never stand beside in the same way--that you see him mourn himself.
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i love reading about the uncanny because the whole thing of it is everything seems fine, but there's just something that's not quite right, and i love it.
example, once of my favorite characterizations of The Mayor from LMK in fics is in Sunbreak. He looks like a normal human, but his smile is a bit too wide, the skin around it a bit too white because of how strechted it is. He moves a bit too stifly to be considered normal and there's just something not quite right about the way the talks. Sure, he looks human, but there's so many little details about him that makes he look just a bit off. Just enough to make you unsure if he actually is a human or something else.
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@elegaia
The lab wing of headquarters was essentially just an overly long hall tacked onto the building, with numerous rooms branching off it, some with extra hallways forming a labyrinth of their own, some without. Yes, wing perhaps was the most appropriate term for it, because that was what it most resembled. You could tell you had wandered into the wing when the floor changed to a different shade of tile and the lighting got strangely dim. It was like all the power was going solely into the sprawling laboratories themselves rather than making the place appealing in any aesthetic way.
Before getting to the entrances of the laboratories proper, there was a door that was wooden instead, standing open. It actually led to an office, one that had belonged to the original Il Dottore. He hadn’t been particularly fond of it, so it was yet another space Epsilon had acquired for his own purposes. Mainly, it just existed as book storage, with the walls behind the desk covered in bookcases.
Epsilon didn’t usually spend that much time there, much like his predecessor, but today was a unique occasion. He was sitting at the desk, patiently waiting for someone he had asked to show up. This space, at least to him, read as less intimiating than the laboratory, and considering the temperament of his guest, this was important.
When Barbara finally made her appearance in the doorway—a quick, sudden movement like a startled animal—he did his level best to smile in a warm manner.
“Welcome! Come in, come in.” There was another chair in front of the desk, if she were to choose to sit.
“I’m so very pleased you agreed to meet with me.” And he was admittedly surprised she actually showed up. But what was she going to do, say no to a Harbinger, and then make herself scarce? That would be exceedingly foolish.
“I should have introduced myself properly when we met before,” he said. “I am the Epsilon Build. Call me Epsilon.” He did not, however, offer a hand to her. “From one healer to another, allow me to say I’ve been looking for an opportunity to speak with you. I have heard such interesting things about your abilities.”
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