hey lyre. hyre.

[oftheseventhstar]

Aodhan has seen her around enough times, the young woman who hesitated far too long on the question of a name, the one with an accent that doesn't fit in among even the variation of Limsa Lominsa.

(Not that Aodhan has any room to talk. He barely speaks the tongue, and slides by under the grace of whatever power it was that touched him that night - and he knows the man behind the Adventurer's Guild's bar squinted just as much at his Meracydian script.)

She's running from something, he'd bet. And whatever that thing is... Well. The first and perhaps hardest-earned lesson of the Rogue's Guild, of the pirate city as a whole -

It never hurts to have someone to watch your back.

So out of the half-dozen adventurers, she's the one he picks out, practically melting out of the shadows surrounding the cave entrance. And better her than a total stranger - half the reason he's been staying hidden, after all, is that there's more than enough people gawking at his ears already. Viera aren't jsut an uncommon sight here, they're completely unknown.

A lift of his hand - equal parts 'wave' and 'see I'm not holding my weapon.' "I take it you're also for investigating the cavern," he says. "Care for some company? Better than going into the it alone."

Comments

hail, nael

[eclipsedsoul]

The thing that keeps throwing M off about Eorzea--besides, well, the everything--is that M is just not used to being spoken to. So when the man she's spotted around Limsa proper a few times since her baffling arrival in this world calls out her, for just a moment, her brain stalls. Her body, too, freezes; it's only for a second, as she takes in a relaxed and friendly smile and a clear lack of weapons in hand, but she's sure, somehow, that he notices it.

(It stings, a little, that a stranger could pick that up from her, but that over a thousand years, the man she loved either never could, or never wanted to.)

She flicks his ears a half curious glance; for a second, up close, the shape had reminded her of the wings of certain Kevesi and her heart had stuttered a song of conflicted homesickness, but then the moment fades and she doesn't want to be rude.

She looks away, and avoids meeting his gaze directly, too. "Aye," she says. "I heard there was commotion around these parts--thought I'd head over to check it out." After all, verbally is how she's picking up most of her jobs, considering she can't actually read the bizarre text of this land, for all that she can understand the spoken word.

"I...wouldn't say no to company," M says, slow but not quite wary--just uncertain. She's as unused to that concept as she is at being spoken to. "I'm...M," she says, and offers a smile but not her hand, except in a little wave of her own.