He can't paint himself. It's too hard as all he is. But this is just a second long thing. She doesn't know how to do it and she's asking him what to do.
He can do this.
His eyes close and he breathes deep like he's gathering every part of himself what he can. Like he's preparing to sever a limb and not just do good by his Messiahs and his ownself. (He ain't supposed to have a self, he's supposed to-)
He takes the power from her, opening it up with a face torn between fear, determination, and trying not to have expression up at all. He's not giving personhood to himself, he's just making a tribute's hard work keep. Yeah. His hands tremble but he's going to do it if it kills him. He puts the powder on.
And once it's on, the paint made for staying, he droops like he's been drained of energy entirely. His face goes blank again but his eyes are a little brighter than before.
no subject
He can do this.
His eyes close and he breathes deep like he's gathering every part of himself what he can. Like he's preparing to sever a limb and not just do good by his Messiahs and his ownself. (He ain't supposed to have a self, he's supposed to-)
He takes the power from her, opening it up with a face torn between fear, determination, and trying not to have expression up at all. He's not giving personhood to himself, he's just making a tribute's hard work keep. Yeah. His hands tremble but he's going to do it if it kills him. He puts the powder on.
And once it's on, the paint made for staying, he droops like he's been drained of energy entirely. His face goes blank again but his eyes are a little brighter than before.