Roan froze, the bit of pulp on his finger halfway to his mouth when xe rose over him again. What now? The stick again? He hadn't seen the implement, but maybe xe was keen to prod his tongue again now that he'd sampled some of the fruit. No...that would be less in the department of a simple checkup and more in the vein of experimentation.
So surely not that.
Reassured by his conclusion as xyr tentacles seemed entirely preoccupied by fussing with his hair, Roan smiled and continued his own experiment--a nibble of ice cream that wasn't ice cream. He rolled it around the inside of his cheeks to test for numbness as xyr color changed slightly again and xyr tentacles covered xyr face.
What does that mean? Distress? Is long hair troubling? Quite possibly...xe has none. Maybe it's confusion? Horror? "What is this terrifying head-covering you've acquired?" His hands were free and his fingers twitched for a moment as he wondered if reaching for xyr tentacles to pull them away from xyr face would be considered aggressive rather than comforting. Best not to risk it. But he would risk a fuller bite now, because it seemed to be fine on contact and mixed with spit, and that meant it was time to test its merit against stomach acid.
Whatever was wrong, xe seemed to recover, floofing down beside him like a dainty cartoon ghost. Roan gave xem a sidelong glance. Definitely something in xyr tentacles this time, and it didn't seem like more hair-fretting was the goal. He lifted the juice-filled fruit to his lips as he watched and more sounds than he'd heard emanate from xem thus far came from his side. Sort of like xe had taken a windchime and shaken it about. More words he couldn't understand, but at least they sounded good and not ominous.
"Might I see?" he asked, wondering what he'd triggered up on the display that was so interesting. He didn't really expect an answer; didn't get one. But xe did put the device on the pod's top.
Progress? Progress! His empty hand was halfway to the device when he was suddenly engulfed by plastic-covered, wriggling limbs. Lips parting in surprise, Roan jerked his hand back and found his bicep encircled. "Er," he said, the inarticulate rebuff quiet because he didn't want to startle xem and wind up crushed under xyr strong grip. Additional words gurgled in the back of his throat, half-laugh, half-groan as the poking over his empty stomach both tickled and reminded him he was getting rather desperate to consume the food in his other hand. He took another bite to smother his unease, taking comfort in the knowledge that xe could have harmed him bodily, like a half-dozen snakes crushing their victim, but hadn't.
If xe had been human, the whole endeavor would leave him feeling objectified. As it was, he chuckled, revisiting his exploration theory as he rubbed his palm over his abs where the poking had been the most concentrated. Was it possible he wasn't alone in the alien species lack-of-recognition department? Cocking his head toward xem, he said with amusement riding his voice, "Done already?" He lifted his hand and swept it toward his legs, frowning as his pants had shifted enough to show the bands that kept him seated. "There's more of me."
He took a heartier bite this time, not feeling any foul effects from the food--although there could be hours to go in the full food-not-poison-or-maybe-is confirmation cycle. It was about as smart as taunting one's host. Regardless of whether or not said host could understand. He was chewing and savoring the strange conjuring of ice cream comparisons playing over his tongue when xe began repeating sounds.
Over and over, the same three bright tones, like musical notes falling between them. He eyed the tentacle aimed toward xem. Ah! Standard protocol! At last! A name! Maybe! Roan swallowed, nodded, then hummed the tones back first because it seemed to be the more important consideration. They came out an octave lower and hopefully in tune. He didn't have much cause for pitch practice unless a night trawling pubs got out rowdy. (Maybe he just didn't sing unless drunk? He'd never really thought about it before.) Next came the shape of the sounds themselves. "Ulala," he attempted, sounds and tones in the wrong order. He shook his head. On his next attempt he thought it was much closer and he grinned. "Oh, this is definitely progress. Excellent! Nice to meet you, Ula--" and a short huff of irritation cut himself off before he hauled on the reins of his own enthusiasm. "U-a-la."
Next, he thumped his chest and drawled out, "Rrr. Oh. Uhn." The important parts of his own name. Repeating it multiple times, he continuing pointing to himself. Textbook encounter scenario. He should have thought of that first; they'd be so much closer to him getting his 'how do I leave' question out in the open. "Row. Uhn. Roan."
So surely not that.
Reassured by his conclusion as xyr tentacles seemed entirely preoccupied by fussing with his hair, Roan smiled and continued his own experiment--a nibble of ice cream that wasn't ice cream. He rolled it around the inside of his cheeks to test for numbness as xyr color changed slightly again and xyr tentacles covered xyr face.
What does that mean? Distress? Is long hair troubling? Quite possibly...xe has none. Maybe it's confusion? Horror? "What is this terrifying head-covering you've acquired?" His hands were free and his fingers twitched for a moment as he wondered if reaching for xyr tentacles to pull them away from xyr face would be considered aggressive rather than comforting. Best not to risk it. But he would risk a fuller bite now, because it seemed to be fine on contact and mixed with spit, and that meant it was time to test its merit against stomach acid.
Whatever was wrong, xe seemed to recover, floofing down beside him like a dainty cartoon ghost. Roan gave xem a sidelong glance. Definitely something in xyr tentacles this time, and it didn't seem like more hair-fretting was the goal. He lifted the juice-filled fruit to his lips as he watched and more sounds than he'd heard emanate from xem thus far came from his side. Sort of like xe had taken a windchime and shaken it about. More words he couldn't understand, but at least they sounded good and not ominous.
"Might I see?" he asked, wondering what he'd triggered up on the display that was so interesting. He didn't really expect an answer; didn't get one. But xe did put the device on the pod's top.
Progress? Progress! His empty hand was halfway to the device when he was suddenly engulfed by plastic-covered, wriggling limbs. Lips parting in surprise, Roan jerked his hand back and found his bicep encircled. "Er," he said, the inarticulate rebuff quiet because he didn't want to startle xem and wind up crushed under xyr strong grip. Additional words gurgled in the back of his throat, half-laugh, half-groan as the poking over his empty stomach both tickled and reminded him he was getting rather desperate to consume the food in his other hand. He took another bite to smother his unease, taking comfort in the knowledge that xe could have harmed him bodily, like a half-dozen snakes crushing their victim, but hadn't.
If xe had been human, the whole endeavor would leave him feeling objectified. As it was, he chuckled, revisiting his exploration theory as he rubbed his palm over his abs where the poking had been the most concentrated. Was it possible he wasn't alone in the alien species lack-of-recognition department? Cocking his head toward xem, he said with amusement riding his voice, "Done already?" He lifted his hand and swept it toward his legs, frowning as his pants had shifted enough to show the bands that kept him seated. "There's more of me."
He took a heartier bite this time, not feeling any foul effects from the food--although there could be hours to go in the full food-not-poison-or-maybe-is confirmation cycle. It was about as smart as taunting one's host. Regardless of whether or not said host could understand. He was chewing and savoring the strange conjuring of ice cream comparisons playing over his tongue when xe began repeating sounds.
Over and over, the same three bright tones, like musical notes falling between them. He eyed the tentacle aimed toward xem. Ah! Standard protocol! At last! A name! Maybe! Roan swallowed, nodded, then hummed the tones back first because it seemed to be the more important consideration. They came out an octave lower and hopefully in tune. He didn't have much cause for pitch practice unless a night trawling pubs got out rowdy. (Maybe he just didn't sing unless drunk? He'd never really thought about it before.) Next came the shape of the sounds themselves. "Ulala," he attempted, sounds and tones in the wrong order. He shook his head. On his next attempt he thought it was much closer and he grinned. "Oh, this is definitely progress. Excellent! Nice to meet you, Ula--" and a short huff of irritation cut himself off before he hauled on the reins of his own enthusiasm. "U-a-la."
Next, he thumped his chest and drawled out, "Rrr. Oh. Uhn." The important parts of his own name. Repeating it multiple times, he continuing pointing to himself. Textbook encounter scenario. He should have thought of that first; they'd be so much closer to him getting his 'how do I leave' question out in the open. "Row. Uhn. Roan."
Dreams come in a size too big so we can grow into them.
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