[Man] It's a nice day for a nice lunch. Sun is shining, birds are singing, a healthy breeze keeps most of the exhaust from the busy street away from sensitive noses. And a certain man, face pinched and narrow, cleft feet obvious in his Japanese sandals, is strolling along, observing. He's always observing.
What he observes today is a young woman who doesn't seem quite right, as though she's sitting on secrets she's not supposed to tell, as though she's not quite a part of the everyday ebb and flow of the world around her. It's enough to intrigue him, and he strolls over, letting his hand rest on the patio's fence.
"Hello," he greets. His voice is thin and nasal, like the bleating of a goat. Overall, the effect does even out to something caprinous, as though he was never human at all, but roughly transmuted to this form and thrown into the world. "Who are you?"
She's really not prepared for someone who sounds rather goat-like to approach her. Who would, really? She blinks a little, and then smiles a little. Always condescending, her smiles.
"Oh, hello," she says absently. "I'm Cassandra. And who are you, you... little... goat... man?"
Cassandra has absolutely no tact. Don't bother introducing me, obviously, it's only just my body. Really. I'll survive the indignity.
"Man," he introduces, a slight drag to his speech drawing it out as Maahn. He doesn't seem fazed in the slightest by the appellation. He waves a hand across the restaurant's patrons, eyes quick and incisive even when his expression is simple and slow. "You have the look of someone unlike this folk. Something born of things their dreams don't touch. Something you keep invisible."
He has the air of a prophet - albeit a very quiet prophet - when he says that. He watches her carefully for her reaction. There are more things in Heaven and Earth....
Cassandra's from a different time and place. This sort of stuff isn't quite as odd to her as it would be to most people. Or me. Even I would find that odd.
She raises an eyebrow curiously. "Oh, really now? Well, that's... sweet." She's nobility, deigning to allow a commoner to speak to her. Or something.
Comments 22
What he observes today is a young woman who doesn't seem quite right, as though she's sitting on secrets she's not supposed to tell, as though she's not quite a part of the everyday ebb and flow of the world around her. It's enough to intrigue him, and he strolls over, letting his hand rest on the patio's fence.
"Hello," he greets. His voice is thin and nasal, like the bleating of a goat. Overall, the effect does even out to something caprinous, as though he was never human at all, but roughly transmuted to this form and thrown into the world. "Who are you?"
Reply
"Oh, hello," she says absently. "I'm Cassandra. And who are you, you... little... goat... man?"
Cassandra has absolutely no tact. Don't bother introducing me, obviously, it's only just my body. Really. I'll survive the indignity.
Oh, do shut up.
Reply
He has the air of a prophet - albeit a very quiet prophet - when he says that. He watches her carefully for her reaction. There are more things in Heaven and Earth....
Reply
She raises an eyebrow curiously. "Oh, really now? Well, that's... sweet." She's nobility, deigning to allow a commoner to speak to her. Or something.
Reply
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