[Cal] The Newcomer

The usually solitary SOLDIER has a new addition to her unit.
Characters: Vandre, Maturin, Moss, Caliah

Poses still need a lot of work, I still don't have the same ability at imparting the mood of a scene and character as I used to in the old days *sigh* I'm tending to just describe one action after the other, talk, then describe again, in rather flat prose. Ughh. Give me some eloquence, please - without falling into the usual mistakes people make about posing their thoughts and other obnoxious no-nos of rp. >< Moss is a cool character. A librarian *pokes people*

So yes, rp on FL is not always about combat. Cal's just a combat-centric character. There's a ball soon and Mardi-Gras like festivities, including a parade and fair (June 7-9) so anyone who wants to participate should send their apps in before then <3


Traverse Town - Main Square


The main square of Traverse Town is a lively place, even at night, although people are fewer and far between and only the truly brave will venture out into the dark streets which are often overrun by the Heartless. Beyond the main square, there is a large wooden door to the east that heads towards the business district, and a set of wide stairs heading to the upper level of town. There are also various nooks and crannies leading towards back allies and other dark areas where creatures of the night like to lurk. Towards the west is a small yet inviting cafe next to an alley, and above that is a small inn. To the north are more stores such as Cid's item shop, as well as a weapons shop and even candy shops. Fluorescent lamp posts emit a soft amber glow from every corner of the town, lighting up a large map towards the upper right corner of the square, next to the stairway. There is also a bright red post box located here, and a post office not far away..

Contents:
Vandre
Obvious exits:
<South> [leads to 'Traverse Town - Outskirts']
<East> [leads to 'Traverse Town - Business District']
<North> [leads to 'Traverse Town - Upper Level']
<Cid> [leads to 'Traverse Town - Cid's Workshop']
<Cafe> [leads to 'Sidewalk Cafe - Traverse Town']

[Caliah:] Shutters moan and creak, whistling in the teeth of a fairly strong wind; fallen leaves borne tumbling on the gust scatter across the square, clinging to the clothes of passersby, blowing into thresholds and hanging off lampposts. The faint rumble of thunder mingles with the usual nightly noises, belying the presence of a storm hovering just upon the outskirts of the town. If rain had fallen, it's long gone, having swept the streets of debris and the skies of their usual pall of chimney-smoke.

Alone and unremarkable, a tall figure stands slightly stooped on one of the stairways leading down to the square, leaning against the railing, gazing out at nothing in particular. By the pale hair and sharp features, and the odd violet eyes that gave off a peculiar glow, she might be easily recognised as being one of the SOLDIERs that haunted this town; nothing else about her drab garb or even her posture gives her away, her expression still as her eyes sweep the silent square.

[Vandre:]

The sound of metal hissing echos through the air and from the south a cloud of black smoke appears. Pushing through it is a young man, not too young, eyes flickering a slight gold, an unnaturally gilded color as he appears through the cloud of black. A trail of flexible metal follows whistling as it coils around his waist, wrapping tightly as if controlled by unseen hands, the handle follows suit and attaches itself to his back.

Pausing, the young man turns and studies the square quickly, assessing his environment and situation. And then, almost methodically, he glances down at a paper in his hands, gazing over it casually, almost as if the battle before hand hadn't happened. Boots thud loudly now as he strides into the center and gazes towards the other. "Excuse me" he speaks, voice crisp and clear.

[Caliah:] What little sound that had filtered through to the lean blond SOLDIER on the landing had easily earned her attention, even through the murmuring of the wind. Cool violet eyes intent in their appraisal of the young man in the square below, the woman refrains from replying immediately, drawing away from the railing and situating herself so that he would have to either angle his head clumsily or step back to get her in his line of sight. Instinctive as that action seemed, it's not wholly defensive or simply cautious - it did place the other clearly within her own range of vision...and the range of other things. "Do I know you?"

[Vandre:] Pausing, he ponders the slim person's actions, a woman...barely. He steps back and turns to face her. "Are you Caliah Liancourt De Llys?" He inquires, looking down at the piece of paper in his hand and then back up at the other again. He exhales as studies her, gilded eyes examining the other in silence as a slight wind blows.

[Caliah:] Catlike eyes narrowing minutely as they flicker over the youth's garments, noting insignia and other aspects of his uniform, Caliah nods once, crisply, descending the stair and closing the distance between them. "Should I know who it is addressing me?" she queries dryly, drawing to a halt just a few paces away and turning to face the other. "You look like...one of us."

Vandre nods briefly as he remains standing allowing the distance to be shortened by the woman's own movements. "Vandre Da'Zarnius. It's a pleasure", he speaks in a crisp tone as he offers a formal salute. "And yes I am a SOLDIER. I was sent to find you, something about starting a small platoon for investigations and whatnot. They'll have more information for you."

[Caliah:] "And here I'd thought they'd slacked off a little in their offworld concerns."

Returning the salute, the pale-haired gamine angles a frigid, unimpressed glance up at the taller man, crossing her arms loosely before her and clasping her elbows; if she were disappointed or pleased at these developments he'd just divulged, it appears impossible to tell. She extends a black-gloved hand, gesturing briefly for the papers he had in his possession. "Investigations....on what exactly?" The delicately phrased inquiry would seem at odds with the single-minded scrutiny that's bent upon the man before her, for one who wasn't well-acquainted with this particular SOLDIER.

[Maturin:] A slender figure in a long coat leaps neatly off the ledge beyond Cid's workshop, landing atop the bright red mailbox in a manner that suggests practice more than skill. He settles there comfortably, coat sliding down and making the mailbox look as if it were wearing a cape. Legs folding beneath him, Maturin settles his staff across his knees and gives a long, comfortable sigh. He is sporting a bruise on his jawline and, for whatever reason, appears relieved to be where he is.

[Vandre:] With a slight nod, the young SOLDIER hands over the papers, clipped to them is a copy of an identification card. "Here, take a look," he says casually. Pausing as if allowing the other some time to examine he cranes his neck and idly look arounds the square, catching motion from the corners of his eyes as he focuses his attention partially on the coat wearing figure, caution in his eyes.

[Caliah:] Accepting the proffered papers, Caliah scans each page swiftly, uttering a soft, thoughtful sound in her throat as she reads through them. The identification card elicits a mildly interested glance from her. "That photograph's old," she comments dryly, unclipping the id and tucking it into one pocket. "And as for yourself? You say you've been --"

The pale blond SOLDIER's violet gaze flicks to the figure seated atop the mailbox, passing over the individual with what seemed only marginal interest, somewhat fleeting. "Asked here?" she rephrases mid-sentence, touching her lips lightly with a fingertip.

[Vandre:] Tilting his head, half of his attention focused on the coat-wearing fellow and the other on the SOLDIER, the young man wrinkles his lips into a brief smile, amusement filling his eyes as he observes with keen interest the reaction of the other. "I've been asked here, as in to seek you out...for the purpose you'll read" he says casually, masking whatever entertainment he had found in the situation beforehand.

[Maturin:] Maturin seems to respond primarily to the eyes resting on him than anything else, for his own visible eye shifts to the side before landing on Caliah and Vandre, unblinking and vaguely curious. He's an odd sort, to be true, if style of dress wasn't enough to suggest it, sitting on a mailbox hardly dissuades such thoughts. Perhaps also responding to the caution given him by Vandre, he responds with mild suspicion, shifting his staff to rest more on one leg.

Long distance to Vandre: Caliah says, "LATRINE DUTY!"
Vandre pages: SCREAM
From afar, Vandre uses manipulate materia...XD
You paged Vandre with 'to do what? sob...clean latrines? XDDD'

[Caliah:] "I have." Handing the sheaf of papers back to the other SOLDIER, the lean blond's seen to shake her head slightly as she regards him levelly. "I don't think I've heard of you, but I've certainly heard of the unit you were once assigned to. The first's may be a good thing; the second...I'm not quite so certain." Conversing with him in her clipped accents, she doesn't seem aware of Maturin's shifting atop the mailbox, nor of his gaze upon them; appearances were after all, deceptive. "I assume you know of what we were...doing before we ended up going through those portals."

[Vandre:] With a curt nod, the young SOLDIER speaks, "That's right, combat any rebel forces that threatened ShinRa, in that case it was AVALANCHE. But then again things have changed...is that what we are to do now? Seek our new rebel forces that endanger the Imperial Power and snuff them out?" He questions, blinking as he shifts his gaze back to the lean figure on the mailbox and then back to Caliah.

[Moss:]

Some people shouldn't attempt to walk and chew gum at the same time. With Moss, gum is out of the question. Which makes it a very bad idea for him to do what he's doing now.

The odd-looking young man who ambles slowly into the vicinity pays minimal attention to his surroundings. Instead, he is focused on his bloodied left arm, which appears to have been violently savaged by some creature with a plentitude of very sharp teeth. As he walks, Moss is in the process of wrapping the wound with a roll of gauze. It's quick and dirty, until he can get home and do a proper job of cleaning the injury, but bleeding all over Traverse Town seems a bit rude.

All of which means his distraction is, perhaps, forgiveable. He can't be expected to pay attention to rogue mailboxes that leap into his path without noti--CLONK. Moss promptly walks right into Maturin's mailbox-perch, which is a mighty warrior indeed: It knocks him right down on his rump on the street, where the young man spends a dazed moment, quite clearly wondering what just happened.

[Maturin:] Maturin just lets his gaze drop to the interesting creature that appears and ambles directly into the mailbox. Peering down at him for a little bit, he moves his staff to very helpfully poke Moss in the shoulder. Then, with a wiggle of his thin hips, Maturin slides down off the mailbox, crouching down in front of Moss with his staff and arms resting on his knees. Voice quiet and curious, the youth queries, "Are you all right?" His head is cocked to the side, his attention for the others in the square currently turned onto the unfortunate man who walked into the evil, dastardly Mailbox of Doom.

[Caliah:] Amusement shades the cut-crystal cadences of Caliah's voice. "What is, first and foremost, the threat t--" Pausing mid-word as the resounding crash echoes through the square, the lithe, slighter SOLDIER angles a bemused glance at the stranger sprawled on the ground, her lips still parted in her surprise.

"Threat to the Empire," she finishes, having pitched her voice low enough so that only her companion might hear, ice-pale features impassive as the bird-feathered young man's ravaged limb fails to escape her notice. "And to many others."

[Vandre:] Teetering on his heels, the young SOLDIER turns to face the source of the crash, eyeing the fallen gangly person while his gaze flits over to the perched figure in the coat as well. He offers a slight chuckle, eyes flashing a brief gold as he turns to face Caliah once more. "The Heartless" he answers, mimicking the other's low tone as if to keep such discussion between the two and not those passing by.

[Moss:]

Whether or not Moss's long ears are keen enough to overhear the low conversation is a moot point, at the moment. He's far more occupied giving the mailbox a brief, betrayed look. The expression quickly shifts to one of startlement as the floppy-hatted black mage prods at his shoulder, and Moss blinks owlishly up at Maturin for a moment before reaching up absently to straighten his spectacles, answering the fellow's question with a sheepish nod. He doesn't immediately seek to regain his feet - it's harder to fall on your face when you're already on the floor. Instead, he watches with amused dismay as the roll of gauze, dropped when he fell, meanders across the square, leaving a line of loose-woven white cloth from his half-wrapped arm to Vandre's feet, where it peters out to leave an empty cardboard tube.

[Maturin:] Maturin watches the bandages trundle along for a moment or two before he turns his gaze back to Moss and, pointing at his arm, feels the need to inform him, "Your arm's unraveling." He slips to his feet with not so much grace but simple ease, following the White Gauze Road, as it were. Once he comes to the end, the slender youth tilts his head back to look up at Vandre with his usual unimpressed expression. A blink, then, "Excuse me." He promptly drops to his knees by the man and bends down, deft fingers gathering up the roll and sliding the cloth back around it so that he can begin to roll it up again. La la la. His staff winds up slung into the sheathe on his back, something that is difficult to even see, as it seems to fit into the back of his coat.

[Caliah:] Thin-lipped with disapproval at the sight of blood, the female SOLDIER might be seen to raise a hand to her ribs, brushing her gloved fingers lightly over the worn black fabric clothing her narrow torso, pale brow puckering as if at some unpleasant memory. "They have quite insatiable appetites," she mutters acidly, a slender eyebrow arcing as the roll of white gauze makes its merry way to Vandre's feet, her mouth twitching in a barely suppressed smirk.

"I don't think that's ah...worth using any longer," she imparts humourously to the boy gathering the now likely debris-encrusted bandaging from the ground, sparing the injured individual who'd remained sitting by the mailbox an offhanded look.

[Vandre:] Chuckling lightly, the young SOLDIER turns, amused by the sight of the funny hat wearing person. He opens his mouth as if to speak but stays silent and remains in place, allowing the other to pick up the bandages. "Are you two playing a game?" He inquiries with a perked eyebrow as he leans over slightly and stares at the hat pointing upward, he offers an amused smile before standing upright once more.

[Moss:]

Usable or not, Moss's choices are to re-collect the unwound gauze, or to have the stuff trail after him across the city, so he is grateful for Maturin's intervention. While the black mage chases the end of the gauze, Moss endeavors to get to his feet without tripping over the hem of his robe - a tricky prospect under the best of circumstances. After several false starts that end with a wince as he automatically puts pressure on the wounded arm, Moss wraps the fingers of his *good* arm around the handle on the side of the mailbox, and successfully leverages himself up.

Vandre's question earns the SOLDIER an amused glance, but it shifts into worry as Moss catches a glimpse of Caliah's expression. The second young ... man?... doesn't look very happy at the interruption, and the Shumi rubs the back of his neck, ducking his head in apology. He remains conspicuously silent, though.

[Maturin:] "If so, I've no idea who's winning," comes Maturin's bland reply as he continues to roll up the bandages, "And they can always be cleaned off for use." He brushes bits of dirt from the bandages as he goes, but he doesn't seem so much concerned with their use later as getting them together for the moment. Soon enough, he makes his way partially across the square, and doesn't seem to mind the length of time it is taking him to gather the gauze completely. It's not as if he was doing anything more productive a moment ago.

<OOC> Maturin giggles. A girl who can be mistaken for a boy and a boy who is attired like a girl. XP
<OOC> Moss says, "It's just genderbending all over the place."
<OOC> Caliah sniffles. :P
<OOC> Vandre is the only manly man around here...snorts at the girly boys!
<OOC> Maturin tchs. I'm hotter than you.
<OOC> Vandre says, "I told you that lie!"
<OOC> Maturin says, "Yes and, sadly, I believed it. :p XD"

[Caliah:] "Mm. But a new roll would be better, unless you can sterilise that one. I wonder where the nurse is when you need her..." Observing the boy going about his self-appointed errand in a rather detached fashion, Caliah slants an eye at the young man standing beside her, a hand on her hip. "She'd know best what to do in this situation. I don't suppose you'd been told that she'd been assigned here as well?" she inquires. "Strange, that one. A little reticent in answering questions of any sort."

[Vandre:] Shrugging, Vandre rolls his shoulders lazily. "I only know of what concerns me. Yes a bit odd, maybe you can judge a book by its cover, as they say." He speaks coolly with a glint of his eyes, gaze trailing after the retreating funny hat wearer and then over to the gangly robed figure. "They're both similar, I think...like they were destined to meet, lost brothers of the sort," he muses outloud, stroking his chin idly as amusement fills his face.

[Moss:]

Moss eventually bestirs himself to help Maturin, moving away from the mailbox as he gathers gauze from *his* end of the chain. It's sort of like that scene in Lady and the Tramp, with two important differences: Gauze is not spaghetti, and there will be no smooching when Moss and Maturin meet in the middle. One hopes not, anyway.

He's distracted by Caliah's words, which encourage him to give her a cheerful smile. It's nice to know the grumpy-looking guy isn't as mean as he looked at first. The time it takes him to smile at her nearly costs him another fall as he steps on gauze he hasn't yet picked up, but the nasty jerk it gives his arm calls his attention sharply back to the basics. Like walking, and gathering up the last of the ruined medwrap. The gangly young man gives Maturin a grateful nod. Awkwardly shifting the gauze *he* holds into his left hand, he offers his right to the black mage, long fingers outstretched.

[Maturin:] Maturin straightens to his feet when he meets Moss at the middle, looking down at the gauze in his hand and then to the gauze in the other man's hand before he says, "This seems impractical." Nonetheless, he hands the gauze over to the avianic man, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at Vandre and Caliah, "I can hear you, you know." This seems to be focused more towards Vandre than anyone else, his visible eye still unblinking. Yeah, buddy. You're not exactly the Shadow in voice subtlety. That, and the acoustics of the square, especially with such minor distance, really aren't that bad.

[Caliah:] Vandre's attempt at a jest is met with a wry glance from Caliah, one corner of her mouth curving in what might be construed as part smirk, part smile, even more so at the inevitable reaction from Maturin; she refrains from commenting, however, affording a dry observation on her fellow SOLDIER's earlier remark instead: "It -will- concern you soon enough, I daresay, especially when you'll be needing -her- skills after some time here. Like that fellow." She sees fit to answer Moss' smile with a slight, if courteous, nod, her attention still, however, on the other's injury rather than the bandaging that Maturin had managed to gather.

[Vandre:] Sighing, Vandre slinks his shoulders. "Right, well she best show up eventully, as to get introductions out the way" he says to the SOLDIER next to him before turning to face the funny hat wearer. "I know. But you wear bright colors and a hat...it's just strange...nothing wrong, I suppose. The world isn't ending because of it now is it?" He replies biting his lower lip lazily as he tilts his head, eyes searching Maturin and then the gangly figure. "Do you need any assistance getting to your destination?" He asks, trying to be polite at least as best as he knows.

[Moss:]

Moss intended to shake Maturin's hand, not receive an armful of gauze, but he's rather used to being misinterpreted. The black mage's quip to Vandre brings a brief smile to his face, shoulders shaking in silent laughter at the wry comment. Moss spends a moment shuffling all of the gauze to his left hand - at least he can keep it out of his way, for the moment. That done, he answers Vandre with a shake of his head, approaching the pair. There's a brief shuffle in a voluminous pocket of his robe before he withdraws a business card, deftly offering it to the SOLDIER. It serves as an introduction, as well as potentially an explanation for where he's going, for it reads in plain black letterhead: 'Moss Archivist, Traverse Town Library.'

[Maturin:] Maturin rests his hands on his hips, which are partially exposed anyway, and looks at Vandre as if the mage were seven feet tall and brawny enough to hold authority, "There are any number of strange things in this Town, and I am hardly as weird as things get." Should've have said anything about the hat, man. He loves that hat. He tilts it back, flicks his bangs back fully to the side he wants them on, then smiles easily Moss nonetheless, noting, since Moss has given over a business card, that he should probably give his own name, "I am Maturin Delaurelie." A dramatic, but strangely etiquette-perfect bow follows this introduction, his ankles crossing neatly and everything as he puts a hand to his stomach and bows at the waist. Hello. I am Mat. I pwn. Thank you.

[Vandre:] Lips crease as they curve into a slight grin. Vandre takes the card, eyeing it over as he nods and flashes it to Caliah. "Moss Archivist, a pleasure, despite...circumstances." He adds inclining his head politely as he returns the card. "And...Maturin Delaurelie. I see, a pleasure as well. Not strange...shall we say, unique? Always a good thing" he continues offering a reassuring wink. "The name's Vandre Da'Zarnius, and I'll allow my companion here to introduce their own self."

[Caliah:] "I wonder if something prompted you earlier to make that offer...like actually owning a vehicle." That from Caliah, murmured in thinly amused undertones even as Vandre shows her the business card; from her vantage point, at least, one look had sufficed for her to glimpse what was printed upon the rectangle of paper. "I happen to have lost mine." Having said that, she clears her throat, inclining her head politely at Moss, her gaze lingering on him a moment longer at his lack of a reply to Vandre's question. Maturin earns a similar study, if not quite so sharp. "Caliah Liancourt," she supplies finally, clearly somewhat amused at the other SOLDIER's readiness to give his own name.

[Moss:]

If Moss tried Maturin's bow, he'd end up flat on his face, he just knows it. The nod Maturin receives is flavored with an expression of good-natured envy. The Shumi doesn't try to mimic the bow, but he *does* nod cheerful greetings to each of the others as they offer their names - and then he seems to remember something, for he makes the universal gesture of 'Wait, wait!' before carefully withdrawing a slender, leather-bound book from the back of his wide belt. An inkpen follows, and he deftly balances the book atop the pile of gauze with a grace that belies his ill-fated footwork. This impromptu table allows him to flip to a half-filled page, passing tome and pen to the black mage and gesturing hopefully from Maturin to Vandre to Caliah with a friendly smile. Hey, pass it around!

The contents of the book - at least on the page he's opened to - appear to be some sort of guest log: There are columns for name, homeworld, and date of arrival in Traverse Town.

[Maturin:] Maturin straightens from his bow in order to cut off a neat, not entirely serious salute, "It is a pleasure make your acquaintance. " Looking at Caliah with that same vagueness of curiosity, he says, "You lost a vehicle? How?" He is then handed a book, which he looks at with care only to settle his gaze on Moss, "Might I have a copy of this some time? You should really post it somewhere people can see. Some people in Traverse are still searching for people from their world." He takes the quill, nonetheless, and neatly writes the information the book asks for him, his writing neat, legible, and sharp. Once that's done, he holds the book out towards Vandre and Caliah, letting them choose who goes next. To Vandre, he does say, "Thank you for referring to me as unique."

Long distance to Vandre: Caliah PUSHES YOU TO MAT
From afar, Vandre screams.

[Vandre:] Fidgeting briefly, Vandre lifts a hand up and tugs at the wrist of his glove, forcing the leather to slip tighter about his hand. The book catches his gaze as he glances over at Moss and then Maturin before allowing his gaze to move towards Caliah. "I was merely being polite, you don't seem like someone who enjoys having things done for them" he muses outloud, eyes curious as they study Caliah over, as if under a different light. "I'll sign the book when it's my turn, but I'll sign it regardless" he assures Moss turning to face him now.

[Caliah:] Eyeing the leatherbound book that the librarian had produced with faint curiosity, the pale-haired young woman appears content, however, to await her turn, showing surprising care in handling the tome when she takes it from Maturin's hands. Studying the entries instead of writing her own straightaway, she smooths the page with her fingers, eyes thoughtful. "Someone proved a little too...careless with their spells," she answers the boy distractedly, shifting slim shoulders in a helpless shrug. C'est la vie. "It's most likely still buried somewhere beyond the gates of this town. A good ways down. It served its purpose at least."

[Moss:]

Moss gives Maturin a startled glance, one that shifts quickly to thoughtfulness as he nods slowly, then enthusiastically, with a broad grin. He quite obviously hadn't thought of the potential implciations of his little project for other travellers, but the contents of the book certainly aren't secret. And he *does* more-or-less live in the library, where such a resource could be made readily available to anyone who cares to come by...

His attention is pulled from his pensive thoughts by the sound of Caliah's voice as she relates the ill fate of her former vehicle. Moss regards her with obvious curiosity, but it's not what she says that interests him, but how she says it. He doesn't question, though, just nods thanks as she, too, signs the book.

[Vandre:] Craning his neck, Vandre nods and takes the book. He flips through it with a hungry gaze, eyeing names, dates and the rest of the data. "Interesting" he comments and then finds a blank spot, signing his name in eloquent cursive script. "There", he comments and offers the book back to Moss, inclining his head politely once more.

[Caliah:] "I didn't know there were...so many. Entire families, no doubt, and many still to be reunited, as Maturin said." Smooth-voiced, her speech without inflection, Caliah might as well be discussing the weather for all the feeling she evinces on the subject, quietly as it's said. "I imagine that that logbook of yours will prove quite useful, especially if it were to be entered into a database."

What else she might have had to suggest on the matter remains unsaid, however, as the SOLDIER hesitates, most likely remembering something. "I hate to cut this short, but I'd forgotten I have to confirm what you just told me; I'll meet you later at the inn," she directs at Vandre, nodding brusquely to the others. "It was a pleasure talking to you."

[Moss(#1805)] Moss has seemed a rather carefree individual thus far, but the speed with which he sobers implies that there's a serious soul beneath all his easy good cheer. A database. It's another good thought, and Moss nods slowly as he collects the signed book from Vandre. They've given him a lot to think about.

However, Caliah's departure reminds him that he was en route, himself, when that tricksy, wicked mailbox accosted him. The throbbing in his left forearm isn't really abating, either, so that's one more reason not to turn this into a long-term social visit at the moment. With a grateful smile to both the remaining men, Moss dips his head in farewell and tucks the book under his good arm, clamping long fingers around the remaining gauze to keep pressure on the injury as he heads off to pay it proper
medical attention.

[Maturin:] Maturin waves almost absently in farewell to Caliah, then blinks as Moss moves to leave, smiling at him easily, "Goodbye, Moss." Yes, the man was bleeding to death, after all. He turns his attention towards Vandre, then, with a vague tension and a bit of suspicion. Not that he isn't friendly, but he and Vandre didn't get off on the right or the left foot. They just sort of jumped. So, he looks at him sidelong, with that same vaguely curious gaze.

[Vandre:] With a slight breath, Vandre offers Moss a brief salute, more casual than anything. "Be well, Archivist." He says, his tone crisp and clear. And then he notices the gaze, he cranes his neck and meets Maturin's gaze. Eyes levelled he stares intently then leans over, closer and closer. He pauses, grins and retracts, standing upright. "Something between my teeth?" He adds in a casual tone.

[Maturin:] Maturin leans back slightly as Vandre leans closer, his delicate nose twitching as he can probably even pick up the man's scent at such range. He blushes at the question and shakes his head slightly, "No. I'm just not exactly sure how you and I speak. We don't seem to be much alike, and you are quite a bit bigger than I am." He points at Vandre as he says this, voice amiable and matter-of-fact.

[Vandre:] Eyebrows of jet black arch as Vandre tilts his head, offering Maturin a perplexed expression. "What do you mean by that? We speak with our voices...something I've noticed Moss doesn't...a bit too shy, I figure." He says with an absent wiggle of his perk nose.
----

<OOC> Caliah says, "Van, take some fashion pointers from Mat and expose your hipbones :p"
<OOC> Caliah >.> <.<
<OOC> Vandre says, "ahaha"
<OOC> Vandre rips the top hem of his pants off, as well as the lower part of his shirt, exposing hipbones and a slight midriff sob...
<OOC> Caliah has a heart attack ><
<OOC> Maturin pokes them curiously.
<OOC> Maturin is sex on legs, Van. Join me! XD
<OOC> Caliah says, "oh god. *just waits for disaster to strike* XD"
<OOC> Moss covers his eyes.