Rondo dan Olorthavaas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
coffee_elf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2020-06-17 11:41 am
coffee_elf) wrote in nexus_crossings2020-06-17 11:41 am
working out complications
People who have met and are familiar with Rondo are relatively few and far between in the Nexus. He appears here and there, and occasionally introduces himself, but for the most part he’s been an observer. It helps that he’s small and quiet; his ability to be overlooked is almost supernatural. Those who have met him, though, may notice that he looks slightly different today. He’s colored his hair, for one thing. The soft brown is full of streaks of plum-purple and there are a couple tiny braids decorating the back of his neck, each with a pair of little jewels stuck in the end, like the eyes of a dangling snake.
His clothing is mostly black, too, where he normally wears earthtones and green. Otherwise he seems the same, though, seated on a bench outside the library, surrounded by books but scrolling through his tablet screen. Rondo is obviously not human, significantly under five feet tall, with an elongated face and pointed ears dotted with chains and earrings. He looks young, though. A student, maybe? The large cup of coffee at his knee makes that idea plausible.
“Um…” he’s hesitant to speak publicly in this place. There are so many humans, and other species he doesn’t even know anything about. But he does have a couple questions. “So, uh, for people who come and go from this place, assuming you can’t just openly announce to your neighbors and friends that you have a gateway to a multidimensional realm—how do you keep it a secret? How strictly do you separate Nexus stuff from home stuff? Are you worried about cross-contamination?”
“And—I’m kind of thinking about renting a room here. Because I keep finding books I want, and things I’d like to have access to, but can’t take home. Tech, instruments, even food and clothes. I’d only need, like, a studio, I guess? Anyone looking for a very part-time tenant? Or roommate?”
His clothing is mostly black, too, where he normally wears earthtones and green. Otherwise he seems the same, though, seated on a bench outside the library, surrounded by books but scrolling through his tablet screen. Rondo is obviously not human, significantly under five feet tall, with an elongated face and pointed ears dotted with chains and earrings. He looks young, though. A student, maybe? The large cup of coffee at his knee makes that idea plausible.
“Um…” he’s hesitant to speak publicly in this place. There are so many humans, and other species he doesn’t even know anything about. But he does have a couple questions. “So, uh, for people who come and go from this place, assuming you can’t just openly announce to your neighbors and friends that you have a gateway to a multidimensional realm—how do you keep it a secret? How strictly do you separate Nexus stuff from home stuff? Are you worried about cross-contamination?”
“And—I’m kind of thinking about renting a room here. Because I keep finding books I want, and things I’d like to have access to, but can’t take home. Tech, instruments, even food and clothes. I’d only need, like, a studio, I guess? Anyone looking for a very part-time tenant? Or roommate?”
no subject
But maybe some day, he'll be in a position of enough authority to help set a precedent. "At least this place is open to you."
The idea of violence being a genuine biological trigger is strange to him, but he takes it without questioning the veracity. Hands over Ziggy's, he gives his fingers a gentle squeeze, still trying to be reassuring. "I suppose the anti-violence field they say exists here helps a little with that. At least you're not likely to see or experience it, only the memory. I could get you something cool to drink if that would help?"
no subject
"We can aid them from here." He's confident of that, or rather certain his mother will make it happen even if she has to raise hell to get it done.
"Thank you, but it won't help." The fingers as he squeeze flex oddly. Ziggy's joints aren't as robust as someone completely made for the Earth-like gravity here. Trying to explain the effect was something he struggled with. "It's like an actual illness. I acted to defend someone and I was laid in bed for days. Even watching movies that I know are fake can be exhausting."
There's not really a better way to explain it. His human side, easily stirred up and temperamental, was a disadvantage when it came to this particular aspect of his biology.
no subject
He nods slowly at the explanation, and he still can't really imagine what it's like, but it sounds like rest and time are the only real helps for it. "We can talk about something nicer, then, if you want. Or I could move on, if you need space. I like talking to you, though."
no subject
"I'm happy to talk about anything." Ziggy gave a non-committal shrug. He's generally interested in individuals so listening to someone and learning about them or their existence is enough to keep him engaged.