+1 fibish

[auseuil]

Honestly, he arrived as if he'd been here before. Indeed, if one wasn't already familiar with the faces in Nexus, the 'young man's' casual demeanor as he just strolled through an open door into the plaza would make it seem as if he'd spent every damn day in here. The attitude of a local or at the very least a frequent visitor, calm and mildly curious as he inspected a vending machine, milled about a screen near the plaza, lightly kicked a few benches, before eventually just draping himself all over one like a gangly teenaged octopus. A soggy bookbag, once slung over his arm, hit the pavement with a wet SPLAP as he seated himself, seaweed wound around the straps and zippers slapping the ground along with it.

The scent of the sea absolutely clung to him, the youth's overall appearance edging somewhere near 'damp'. As if he'd just crawled out of some lagoon, hair a bit too black, skin a bit too smooth. Those eyes just a little too dark. The teeth a touch too sharp. And for a while, he said nothing, apparently content to just take up the entire bench and people watch. A few minutes passed, before finally, at last, the man would speak up, his voice oddly, vaguely melodic and low.

"What's the weirdest thing you ever saw?"

Comments

[itmeanscourage]

Isamu pondered his conundrum in light of the siren’s metaphor. “To use those terms, you are essentially correct. I am not able to make calls. When they call, I do not hear it ring, and they are greeted with something more akin to white noise or monotonously relaxing hold music.”

That kind of worked, actually. Common ground!

“And it is not as though I cannot communicate in other ways. Verbal communication can and does happen. For those that are not half-human, empathy makes up for a lack of facial expressions, but not being able to pick up on that has not hindered communication.”

He shook his head, returning to the metaphor again. “My phone is busted. But now pretend that I am also tech support.”