Ayatan (They/Them) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ayatantreasure) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nexus_crossings2022-02-23 08:12 am
ayatantreasure) wrote in nexus_crossings2022-02-23 08:12 am
+1 Space Ninja
This place reminds them of Cetus, a little. Not quite as bustling and busy with the snow blanketing the walkways, but the closed shopfronts and toned-down open air markets suggest that the dry seasons might be comparable - surpass it even. They've been doing recon for several days now, first by observing from rooftop perches, then mingling among the pedestrians. It seems odd to walk among people of so many different sizes and shapes, and almost never be looked at twice. Never recognized for what they are.
No fear. No adoration. They can just... be.
It's a start.
The warframe is tall as an adult human, metal skin glinting slightly in the faded winter sunlight, hoof-like feet stepping lightly despite the metallic scrape against snow-dusted concrete. The long ribbon-like syandana attached to their back flutters softly in the breeze, a playful contrast to the weapons they carry on their back - a sword, some kind of rifle, a pouch of throwing knives. Their hands are empty, though, flexing yellow fingers absently as if trying to grasp something intangible.
Finally, they choose a perch on the edge of the walkway that passes by the Plaza, balanced effortlessly in a crouch atop a low wall. They raise one hand, projecting an image of words in a swooping script, which the Nexus then translates:
Have you ever dreamed so deeply you forgot who you were?
No fear. No adoration. They can just... be.
It's a start.
The warframe is tall as an adult human, metal skin glinting slightly in the faded winter sunlight, hoof-like feet stepping lightly despite the metallic scrape against snow-dusted concrete. The long ribbon-like syandana attached to their back flutters softly in the breeze, a playful contrast to the weapons they carry on their back - a sword, some kind of rifle, a pouch of throwing knives. Their hands are empty, though, flexing yellow fingers absently as if trying to grasp something intangible.
Finally, they choose a perch on the edge of the walkway that passes by the Plaza, balanced effortlessly in a crouch atop a low wall. They raise one hand, projecting an image of words in a swooping script, which the Nexus then translates:
Have you ever dreamed so deeply you forgot who you were?
no subject
Part of her really wants to reach out and touch the glowing letters, but she refrains for the moment. Candle-flames look pretty and touchable to children, after all, and grabbing them is the opposite of a good idea. "Did you just get here? Do you need anything to eat or drink? It's a strange place, but people can be very kind and friendly here, and there are lots of things to see."
no subject
Warframes don't eat. It's difficult to look apologetic when your face is so inflexible, so they shrug instead, and tap a hand against their chest as if to indicate their heart, a gesture of appreciation for the offer. But I like to look at shops.
no subject
"Well, if you'd like to walk around with me, we can," she offers. "I don't have anything to do this afternoon. We could look at shops or go to the park."
no subject
I'd like that, they project after, in case their response wasn't understood. What shops are your favorite?
no subject
"I like the toy shops the most," she admits, a little sheepish. "But the plant nursery is nice, too. It's just, we didn't have the variety of fabric they have here, to make toys with. Some of the plush animals are just so wonderfully soft and fluffy! And they're made for people bigger than me, so some of them are honestly big enough I could just set them on the floor and sleep on them like a little bed."
She might or might not have napped on a unicorn squishmallow, ssh.
no subject
Toy shop please!
Though their attention is clearly on Deet as they begin to make their way toward the aforementioned shops, they still take the time to peer here and there at whatever landmarks they're passing, much like a tourist would. There's a contrasting sort of vigilance about them, however, like someone who's spent so long at war that they're keeping an eye out for trouble even in complete safety. It contrasts with their obvious delight at their surroundings, an inner child yearning for play.
no subject
"Toy shop!" She agrees happily, and she would offer to hold hands and lead them, but given the height disparity they would have to walk bent over. Instead, she walks a short distance ahead until they're on the sidewalk, then flutters her way into the air. As delicate as those wings of hers look, she seems to be able to hover with them, an impressive feat.
The toy shop isn't far, situated between a clothing shop and a thrift store for electronic equipment (a lucrative business where so many worlds with varying technology levels meet). A little bell chimes when Deet tugs the door open. The inside smells a little like vanilla and cotton candy.
no subject
Their footsteps are light as they follow in her wake, the long ribbon on their back fluttering and shining like a tail. They can't smile, but there is an amused pause in their step at the gentle jingle of the bell, an ancient novelty to the Tenno. It's quickly forgotten, of course, on seeing the inside of the toy shop.
It's all so clean.
Pristine fluffy plushies of all sorts of animals that they've never seen before. Boxes of jigsaw puzzles and constructive toys, colorful blocks and sleds with hovertech instead of metal runners. Sheets of stickers, flying models of spacecraft that do buzzing loop-de-loops around the ceiling. It's hard to know where to start! Their fingers twitch a little, eager to touch, uncertain if they're allowed.