Posts: 3
Preferred Name: Peryton
Pronouns: they/them, she/her
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Post by Phineas on Aug 3, 2015 13:22:59 GMT -5
True to form, or perhaps to life, no matter how much preparation was taken to avoid embarrassment, it always managed to find Phineas Gauthier. It seemed to think of them both as earnest siblings; inseparable and bound for all sorts of sibling-mischief, and like a true sibling it didn't quite care what Phineas's opinion on the matter was.
For those that do care, he had been hoping to avoid telling the world what he'd had for breakfast that morning, and he'd done a rather fine job of doing just that while delivering a personal message from his mother to a business partner. However, as he exited the building and slowly came down off his magic-born high, as he always did, he came to the sobering realization that he, with his crippling fear of heights, had been flying not minutes beforehand to get to the building in a hasty manner. Not only that, but in his careless state he had had the wondrous gall to look down, and, ever helpful, his visor had told him the exact distance from the ground he'd been. Never mind that he was safe on sweet, sweet solid earth now, just the thought of where he'd been made him so immediately nauseous it was a wonder he didn't burst at his finely tailored seams.
He was too light to push through crowds, and delicately balanced as he was on too-thin legs it would be disastrous of him to try. All the same, he did sort of gently navigate his way through cracks and maybe suggest with the lightest of taps that certain people adjust themselves and when they didn't oh...oh well he just. Sort of. Awkwardly stood there. Sick. And swaying. Eyes pleading behind the pale blue loupes of the optivisor the covered his face for the sanctuary of the alley that was so very, very close. But of course, if you are not assertive, you will not be noticed, and outside of the negotiation room Phineas found it very hard to be...not a complete pile of mush.
So, polite to the last, he scrambled his way to a wall and just. Hurled. And heaved. And panted and all sorts of nastiness that was greatly disgusting to most passerby who noticed and terribly embarrassing for the poor sweaty fellow.
His unfortunate bout of latent-fear-induced sickness however was enough to produce a bit of an indent in the crowd, moreso than his quiet prodding had been. Enough that, trembling, he could at last get to the alley and hide himself there.
It provided some small relief--at least he was out of the way. But now, crouched in the dark, he looked every bit the augment junkie, and he felt it too, even though he knew different of himself. He bit back a whine as he slid off his visor and laid it on the ground beside him. Surely there was something in his bag that he could clean himself up with?
Phineas was so preoccupied with searching through the dark satchel that he didn't notice the woman coming up to him, and so neglected to give her a proper greeting. Nothing was going right for him at the moment. |
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Posts: 5
Preferred Name: Dylan
Pronouns: He / Him
Character Name: Hexie
Main Account: aLonelyCow
Status: Active
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Post by Hexadecimal on Aug 4, 2015 19:52:30 GMT -5
Life had never been better than it had been in that very moment of the young cyber-security specialist's life. With a number of upper-grade contracts given to her for various companies and even a small government job, Minna had a bright smile stuck on her face throughout her stroll in the bustling innards of Novus. Truly, there was very little that could bring her spirit down.
Feeling the faint brush of a finger tapping against her shoulder, Minna moved to the side for the stranger that felt the need to break free from the crowd. A brilliant set of wings caught her attention, keeping her attention on the man even as he made his way to an unmarked wall. Perhaps he needed to find a door, she thought. There were a good number of shops in the area and even she had wanted a breather every once in awhile. Maybe that was all he needed.
If only he could have found a trash can.
Minna witnessed the entire embarrassing scene and flushed with the second-hand wave that passed right through her. It drew her eyes downwards, examining him from afar. There was a funky-looking mask reminiscent of jeweler's equipment, his legs were obviously gone and replaced with those of a chicken (well a finer bird was likely the model, but they would forever be chicken legs to the girl), and there were also his wings.
Was he facing rejection? How recent were the surgeries? Questions wove amongst worry as she followed him. The majority would ignore a person like him, worried mostly for their own well being, and he could have been left to rot and die in the alleyway. She refused to be one of those self-absorbed folk.
"Excuse me, mister?"
A tiny head poked around the corner to glance once more at Phineas, inquisitive eyes once again taking in every small detail she could see in the shadows. One gloved hand appeared near the woman's head, holding a small, wet disposable cloth out for him to take. Instead of making him wait, Minna instead pressed forward and entered the alleyway properly, coming into the man's general space with a tiny smile.
She crouched before him and wordlessly wiped away at his cheek, her smile forming a prouder grin at her actions. "I have more if you'd like. Are you feeling okay, sir?"
Of course, he could be anyone. She was by no means a fighter, but the young hacker kept her other hand free to make use of her shock gloves if the need arose.
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Posts: 3
Preferred Name: Peryton
Pronouns: they/them, she/her
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Post by Phineas on Aug 13, 2015 13:52:11 GMT -5
Oh. Oh he did wish that he'd have noticed the woman before she right there beside him, there talking, prodding at him, probably about to smack him for being such a mess after performing expected tasks. Not. That a stranger would know that he had just performed routine stress-incurring activities, but of course in Phineas's mind such an eventuality was perfectly logical and so he was prepared for, surely yes, some sort of reprimand.
But her touch was gentle. And there was a brief moment where he felt as though perhaps the worst possible thing wasn't actually in the realm of possibility. However, within him feelings of safety and comfort tended to be very fickle indeed, and as quick as they came they would dance away laughing at the void they left behind for anxiety to fill.
"Yes. That's. More would be. Yes."
It was surprisingly communicative, given his current hopelessly frazzled state, and spoken in an accent that was far more refined than it ought to be given the conversational failings of its owner. Provided with any other escape route, like woefully bad manners or an inclination to mug people who showed him small genuine kindnesses which were largely absent in his business-oriented lifestyle, he might have spared himself the torment and not spoken at all. Alas, his bad habits were constrained to twitching and barfing in public, both of which had put him in this supremely anxious situation.
Of dealing with concern for his well-being, yes, but hush.
He took the wipes gladly as an excuse to avoid more physical contact and tried to be more coherent. "I'm...I'm quite alright ma'am." A blatant and not very convincing lie, but it was hard to look and sound convincing and remind himself he was safe on the ground and deal with embarrassment and social anxiety all at once. It was just all so much to juggle at once. "In a general kind of. Physical sense you know. I'm not contagious or anything--I mean no. I'm not sick, not to suggest that or anything, not that there's anything wrong with being sick of course, are you sick? No I didn't mean to ask if you were sick, that's rude. Uhm. I'm quite alright, yes, thank you for asking. H-Hello, I don't think I said hello."
There was a slight pause for him to breath and bow his head before he muttered an apology.
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Posts: 5
Preferred Name: Dylan
Pronouns: He / Him
Character Name: Hexie
Main Account: aLonelyCow
Status: Active
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Post by Hexadecimal on Aug 14, 2015 21:17:06 GMT -5
Something didn't seem right with the man, though she figured that anyone who would put on such a public display wouldn't exactly be considered normal, anyway. Nevertheless, Minna fished out more of her wipes to hand off to the sickly fellow, charming despite the remaining trail of yellow-tinted chunks stuck to his person. Maybe he was a nervous little bird.
"You're a really flustered-up little fellow, aren't you?" she asked oh-so-modestly, leaning in towards him with a blatant disregard for his disheveled appearance. "It's totally alright!" A grin, followed suit with soft, modest laughter. "You just had a bit of a moment but now that you got someone here, you'll be okay, I promise. We won't get any better if we stay to ourselves, will we?"
She carried a childish view of the world on her sleeve, wearing her desires openly but never passing the line between allowed speech and terrorism as determined by the Novus higher ups. That was a war she could never afford to fight if she wanted to keep her business going. Cyber-security usually had 'loyalist' on its requirements, since nine times out of ten, it seemed like the attacker wouldn't care if the government collapsed the next day.
But that was a worry for another time. Handing off one more wipe to Phineas, Minna bounced back to make a slight bow in his direction, holding out her hand for him to take. "Where you off to? I should stick around to make sure you can still walk, at least!" Her face lit up at the idea that crossed her. After all, perhaps they would be heading in the same direction?
Of course they were. The young hacker had no direction to move that day.
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Posts: 3
Preferred Name: Peryton
Pronouns: they/them, she/her
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Post by Phineas on Aug 22, 2015 12:57:37 GMT -5
"In general, yes," he replied quietly. But there was just so much in the world to be flustered about--a silly thought he kept to himself of course, as it would be unseemly in the highest degree for someone of the upper class to insist such a thing. Ha. A bit of a moment though. He had a lot of those, and would probably have a lot more before he up and died of one. Very depressing to think about, really, hm.
It was difficult to wrap his mind around the concept of getting out of his moment when he didn't really have to, but luckily enough for him it was even more difficult to imagine remaining in a shambles in front of someone else. Such activities were better left to be private affairs, 'save your tears for your pillow', proper avoidance of engaging with feelings of crippling anxiety and all that. After all, there was plenty of time left for him to cower in back alleys on other days when he was more alone and less with-miss-bright-eyes. Capital, capital. It was decided then. He was officially done having a breakdown.
When he turned his face up to return her smile and accept another wipe, his expression could be described as any number of things. 'Over his episode' was not one of them. Neither was 'happy', 'satisfied', or indeed 'face of a chap who truly enjoys sitting in squalor while a stranger looks on a twitters in a most charmingly concerned manner'. Mmmmm, 'pained' seemed more accurate. His smile certainly did not reach his eyes, and cleaved heavily to the textbook definition of forced. Truly, Phineas was in general, yes, a flustered-up little fellow.
One of the fine, rail-thin prosthesis that had replaced his arms--the bow arm, this one--worked in sharp little movements to remove the rest of the filth from his face. The simple action made him feel more in control somehow, and that brief instance of doing something for himself opened a floodgate of relief. Yes. He wasn't completely helpless.
The simple task of standing, however, reminded him that while not completely helpless though, he was still a lot a bit helpless. It occurred to him, while he stared at Hexie's offered hand like it was a five-headed hydra, that there were newborn birds less helpless than he was. It also occurred to him that that was kind of fucked, and he took her hand as best he could in his odd talon-fingers.
"I can walk, ma'am, it's just a bit--oOF--" he grunted with the effort of standing, even with her help, and found it necessary to hop a bit to catch his balance. "--difficult sometimes, you know. Uhm. But I'm used to the difficulty and I think the, ah, sickness is passing. So. Ah." He adjusted his gangling arms to put his hands on his hips in what would be a confident gesture were he anyone but who he was. "I do believe I'm good. Well on the way to being right as rain, but of course you, you I don't want to force you to keep coming along with me, you've already done so much..." And he hadn't been going anywhere in particular himself. Had to keep relatively free in case he was needed for some urgent matter, so it never really did do for him to make plans too far in advance...He was hungry. He was coming to the realization that all this stress was making him hungry, and he needed to eat, needed to calm down somewhere where he was less likely to get pummeled and mugged.
"Pancakes. I think I'm off to get pancakes. And you are." Don't be rude. He put his mask back on and steeled himself before continuing, "Welcome to join me. If you, uhm. Have the time. You...you probably don't, aha, you look like a busy sort of person, I'm sorry I've taken up so much of it already, your time that is. Sorry." Oh sweet lord have mercy on his soul.
"My name's Phineas by the way, and I'm terribly grateful you stopped." He added in a small voice, twiddling his fingers in a woefully pathetic manner. |
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Posts: 5
Preferred Name: Dylan
Pronouns: He / Him
Character Name: Hexie
Main Account: aLonelyCow
Status: Active
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Post by Hexadecimal on Nov 1, 2015 15:42:47 GMT -5
There was a certain appeal that drew Minna in towards the funny-looking man the moment he barged his way out of the crowd in the most pleasant of ways. In full witness to his mannerisms and hearing his diction, she had put together rather easily that he resembled herself on the surface. Sure, the man was likely awkward around new faces and didn’t take too well to a stranger’s assistance, but there was the familiar look in his eyes that she would recognize when faced with a mirror at an overly crowded party. Minus the speck of stomach acid still left of his cheek that he had just managed to nab.
What really caught her interest, and she was more than embarrassed to even think of such a thing, were the mechanical replacements to his limbs, among the other bits of biomachinery fitted to the core portion of his body. Really, there were the obvious parts that everyone in the world could see, but then she already began to wonder about the internal workings that had to be installed to make it all work along with his human structure.
There was a twinkle in her eyes as her mind raced ahead, ten miles a minute, to the point that she had all but missed his pleasantries. Minna had to recollect her thoughts to interpret what he had said, which had all turned out to be more musings on his part to calm himself down. Most likely. She nodded in response, mindlessly studying the handiwork that was ever-present on his body, and folded her hands together against her lap.
When she heard Phineas after his moment of silence, her face flushed up. He had to have noticed her staring, right? Maybe he was used to it, to the peculiar people who spent too long judging others for what they had decided to do with themselves, not that he was going to be looked down on for his choices. Well, perhaps only in a ‘this enhancement would have been better suited for your work’ sort of way. The woman had to step back to give him breathing room, otherwise she would have wound up leaning over him to see the joint connections for his hardware.
“Actually, I was just on the way home,” she tilted her head to the side and grinned. “Normally I’d cook something up for myself but I haven’t been out in such a long time, so... That sounds lovely!”
With a bit of laughter, Minna bent over again to extend her hand out for him to take. “I’m Minna, and it’s been a pleasure, so don’t worry about it.”
Pancakes... He had good taste.
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