Pomni listens, shifting to let her arm hang down by her side while she did so, even if just for the moment. Her lips are pulled in a interested-yet-contemplative frown as Jean explains their world, and the notions are something she can barely wrap her head around. Changing out one's body, just like that? Even beyond this form she got stuck in, she didn't get the impression changing one's body was exactly easy.
The compliments paused her train of thought, though. Quite frankly throws that thing right off the rails.
As far as she'd been concerned, this body was a prison from minute one of being in it. Something she loathed, felt no affection towards, and sometimes found herself neglecting out of a sense of defiance to it. To think that someone could see it as something to be desired, though--- not even just desired, but sought after, and, if one were able to, hand-selected and worn with pride...
It's rewiring something in her thought process, to say the very least. Her hand's risen up to lightly touch the side of her face, as if the more direct contact with something she'd felt thoroughly disconnected from would help the notion process further.
"...Do you really mean that?" She's quieter, now, almost a little tentative. With most compliments, she'd clam up, get awkward, laugh it off, but something about this one felt different. More profound, even. "I mean, I just kind of got stuck into this thing when I got shoved into the Digital Circus, so I guess I always just saw it as... I don't know. Something made to be a spectacle? Something to be laughed at, just another part of the freakshow that we got turned into."
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The compliments paused her train of thought, though. Quite frankly throws that thing right off the rails.
As far as she'd been concerned, this body was a prison from minute one of being in it. Something she loathed, felt no affection towards, and sometimes found herself neglecting out of a sense of defiance to it. To think that someone could see it as something to be desired, though--- not even just desired, but sought after, and, if one were able to, hand-selected and worn with pride...
It's rewiring something in her thought process, to say the very least. Her hand's risen up to lightly touch the side of her face, as if the more direct contact with something she'd felt thoroughly disconnected from would help the notion process further.
"...Do you really mean that?" She's quieter, now, almost a little tentative. With most compliments, she'd clam up, get awkward, laugh it off, but something about this one felt different. More profound, even. "I mean, I just kind of got stuck into this thing when I got shoved into the Digital Circus, so I guess I always just saw it as... I don't know. Something made to be a spectacle? Something to be laughed at, just another part of the freakshow that we got turned into."