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(PFFT! Alphonse! XDD If Photinus had any idea what Alphonse was thinking he'd probaby misunderstand and be so mortified he'd consider running away again. And go look for a shirt. With long sleeves. And long pants... Shoes would be nice too. He doesn't have the sandals anymore either... ;.;

Wow, he... must look like a beach bum. How ironic. XD

Not so sappy... in a place like this I'm sure happy is something patients seek actively, or forget about entirely. :< But you know, animals don't feel emotions like self-loathing, so if Alphonse focused on trying to feel how he used to feel, maybe he would find a lot of things hadn't actually changed. Same for Photinus. *prods them each with a toe* >>; )


Lifting his hand to gesture to Alphonse's bandage had provided a rough landing spot for one dazed firefly. It nearly tumbled over the edge until it caught a hold of Photinus' glove. The boy's concern had caused the nearly glow-free digits to brighten again. He watched as the little beetle gathered its wits and crawled up toward his knuckles, and when he turned his hand palm-up it followed. Before it had rested enough to take flight, another blinded firefly landed on his hand as it had fled, disoriented and searching for its familiar "beacon." Then a third. Photinus frowned, olive-green eyes scanning for the others. Those fireflies had either flown off to dimmer parts of the room or landed on Alphonse's hair or shoulders. Since only a few from the bunch had swarmed around his antennae, not many were affected, and none were harmed.

He sighed with short-lived relief, eyes widening when he realized how close that put him to Alphonse. He had been close enough to catch a firefly as it fell from the air around his antennae.

Once the fireflies had regained their bearings and flown away, Photinus took the opportunity to scoot away again, responding verbally to Alphonse's answer to his question. Somehow he was not surprised that the volbeat gijinka had lost his temper and punched something. He seemed full of thinly-reigned anger at least part of the time. And Photinus was full of nervousness again, glowing nearly as brightly as before, though it was unclear to him which had bothered him more. "It isn't...infected is it? Have you considered seeing a nurse?"

(Deeeewwwd! xD

But was it becoming human that made life complicated, or was it the complication that was placed upon the survivor?
This is how it always seems to go with Photinus though. For him it's incredibly difficult to relax around people. e.e; <3 )


"They do that sometimes, with light bulbs and other bright things..." Photinus murmured. He didn't even bother to say that sometimes lights had a similar effect on him, especially if someone was emitting that glow. He rarely even noticed until he'd gotten himself in trouble. Alphonse seemed to be blaming himself. Photinus wondered if sincerity would help lessen the guilt. Certainly none of the fireflies in this room blamed him. "It's not your fault."

A moment later, once again Photinus' eyes widened, and his eyes dropped toward the floor. Perhaps he had been overreacting to Alphonse all evening. The more he thought about the volbeat and tried to consider his point of view, the more harmless he seemed. His anger was a reaction to his situation but he was not actually angry at anyone... besides himself. Another kind of glow colored his features, and his embarrassment was well-earned chagrin.

He finally looked up to meet Alphonse's gaze with a determined look of his own, but was met instead by a barrier, the volbeat's closed eyes, and Alphonse was hugging himself tightly. Photinus approached him again, only this time deliberately, if tentatively. His hand rested on Alphonse's arm gently. "You don't need to blame yourself." This time he wasn't talking about the fireflies, he was talking about a boy and pokemon and survivor's blame.

Photinus let his hand fall away from Alphonse's arm. His verbal reply was little more than a grunt as he looked away with a gentle frown. He was probably not the most antisocial person here, but he knew little about the people he had spoken to. Most times, would it even be considered conversation? For someone as standoffish as this volbeat, he knew more about him than most, probably his top three to five, anyway. His story, apart from fine details seemed to be fairly typical. Either that or Photinus had an undesired knack for finding the creepers and especially traumatized patients. There was probably a category for a patient whose loss of family exceeded a certain number. That mark would be on both of their records.

Increasingly, he found that any words ventured were the wrong ones, regardless of a situation. The phrase 'it's not your fault,' or 'don't blame yourself,' are useless in a place like this. Yet tonight he had tried to offer some gesture of comfort like a newbie would. That's why I like my room. It's dark and quiet, most of the time, and I don't have to try to say what they want to hear. I... always... get it wrong. The memories were still vivid and terrifying, but they were like that no matter where he was. It was easier to deal with when there was no light, no faces, no laughter, no judgment, no anger.

But the sanctuary extended to the courtyard, when battles weren't being fought arbitrarily of course. The cool open air and the grass beneath his feet were a special treat. And he had met Dimas there, and now Alphonse... "I didn't realize you were trying to sleep." As if it had been his fault that Alphonse had followed him here. But there was little else he could think of that would have made a difference to him.

"Ah, yes, Moonlight. It won't be visible the rest of the night." It being the moon's light. Or tomorrow, probably. It hadn't been visible in the time Photinus had been out; the clouds had amassed right around dusk. It might rain. But what if he was unable to see it because I stood in the way or distracted him? I don't really know how it works, but it seems that the clouds alone block its power. Again, this feeling of guilt. He really was unsure of how to feel around Alphonse. None of it had been good so far, none of it right. He probably should practice what he preached, but...

"I was studying that pokemon manual. Or, I was trying to anyway. There are so many patients I can't begin to understand, and that manual was all I could find to enlighten me." Of course, he could have asked anyone, assuming they knew anything about pokemon! A book would be a more reliable source, naturally. He raised his palm up before him to look at his hand. When he spoke again, his voice was very quiet. "Gloves are awkward, but I had to cover them." He did not find any need to voice the reasons for the sudden upwelling of fear-- no, terror. (And the blinding flare of light that accompanied it.) He had already learned to stay quiet around Alphonse about any personal background or opinions, and he really was trying to remember to keep his mouth shut about it. "I can at least hide the light if I need to," he said, balling up his fist and thus squelching the light. When his hand was relaxed however, the light wasn't much dimmer.

He pointed to the ceiling, looking at the glowing tip of his index finger. It pulsed slightly as he chuckled, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "They make good pen lights in the dark, so I didn't feel a need to leave until I felt stiff and stretched. And, um..." he glanced at Alphonse then looked away. "When I noticed you were there, I almost left," he admitted with a shrug. And then the firefly... Well, he wasn't going to blame it on one of them. They were doing what they'd normally have done. Perhaps the only reason he hadn't disregarded its danger was his own curiosity.

Why was Alphonse suddenly interested in Photinus? The glowing did not count; when the volbeat followed the glow cast by Photinus, it served only the same instinctual function it served for the firefly now. He never had really cared about or for Photinus as a person or even as a curiosity. He had reacted negatively with every offered comfort, vain or otherwise (It's the sentiment that counts, right?). He had hardly even responded when shown the library that few others even knew about. So why now? Had he run out of things he was willing to say about himself? So then, was the asking serving another selfish function, perhaps to keep the glow nearby?

Frankly he was surprised that Alphonse had not asked "the" question: 'Can I see?' He stared so fixedly at them, why should he not? Was that just one thing he wouldn't say? Some kind of personal code? If so, perhaps asking after him was part of that 'code' too. Perhaps it was just something Photinus had to volunteer, then, while denouncing it in a grandiose manner, he would actually be mulling it over in his head. I wonder what he would say if I told him I was gay? It's not true, of course, but if I was the sort who liked to toy with people it might be interesting to watch, he thought with an inner sigh. By now they were both staring at his hands, weren't they? His fingers twitched and he considered an offer to show him what his hands looked like without the gloves.

And he was trying to figure out what to say when Alphonse mentioned someone in particular. "Oh, you met Jera too?" What a bizarre child, he thought with a small warm smile. Of course he could only hope that Jera had found the one he had been missing and that that person had been able to keep him safe. He looked up at Alphonse with tired sadness. "Do you really think I would be so upset over a little harassment that I would want to cover them?" He sighed and removed one of his gloves. The entire hand glowed, of course. He offered it to Alphonse to stare at, but he looked away. Whenever he saw that glow, all he ever saw was blood. "You don't know anything about me. Please don't assume that you do."