which one is the mute again?

[lexiconning]

Date & Time: May 15th
Location: Transit bus stop!
Characters: Jercho and Sylls (eyecontact and lexiconning)
Summary: Syllona meets her network buddy acquaintance while waiting for the bus.
Warnings: cute quiet kids


Learning all the basics of living in a futuristic modern world was kind of overwhelming, but Syllona was willing enough to rise to the challenge. For the past month memorizing the city layout had been happening at a pretty good clip; shops, restaurants, buildings full of Exsilium's strange citizens. But exploring on foot was getting harder and harder, admittedly. The further she went from the hold the longer it took to trace her way back and even for someone so used to traveling long distances the whole thing was getting out of hand. What would she do when she got too far for a day trip?

So it was with a deep, worried frown she found herself sitting at a bench, waiting for what might be another option. Avoiding the.... big, metal contraption that everyone else seemed to use to get around could only get her by for so long. The 'bus', she'd heard it was called; the only problem was she could hardly make heads or tails of how it all was supposed to work.

Time ticked by, more and more people showing up to wait. She fidgeted, shifting away when someone sat down. Ugh, this was getting stressful. An idea came to mind, and her hands went for her satchel, searching-- ah! there it was. Tablet in hand, she typed out a message, carefully:

Jericho I have a question: How does a bus work? You know right?

Comments

[eyecontact]

Well, he was a fair hand at maps, he supposed...But rather than that, Jericho was more interested in finding out what passed for worth knowing to Syllona. The impression he had gotten from her and the girl who sat beside him were starting to grow distant, especially with each twitch of a smile or flash of interest not rooted in doubt.

For how disbelieving and uncertain her words had been at the start, Jericho felt compelled to give her something she could trust or...enjoy to some degree. And the garden seemed to be that, judging by her reaction. So, maps? Sure. He could mark a map.

He nodded, deftly lifting his pen out from the spiral binding of the notebook his tablet was resting on top of, giving her a smile. Sure thing!

[lexiconning]

Map retrieved, she unfolds it, smoothing the edges out and-- would you look at that! Those few feet between them is the perfect width to fit it down. That itself gains another notch of a smile, and another at the sight of his own pen.

The first thing she did was point out a few points-- leaning forward to make sure she reached. One there, labeled with "Good supplies! Lots of paper, saw fabric too", one simply labeled "Birds", and another a few blocks from it, "Bookstore! Save up". Then finally in the opposite direction from the Hold, and much further out, was "Sand, wood, broken metal". Whatever that was for, she blanched and put a hand over it. Was that a... sheepish look she was giving?

Where's the garden at?

[eyecontact]

He was exploring the notes on her map – Huh, looks like she's already covered the area close to the Hold – when the little beep hailed her next message. Another? He set it on a corner of the map, letting it work double-duty as a paperweight as he traced his finger along the little blocks and alleys...

Lightly at first, he made a few circles around the area where he knew the gardens to be at, then carefully write it just beside the circles in small, compact uppercase letters. There.

He sat up straight after that, lacing the pen between his fingers so he could hold it and type at the same time. Once he'd tapped the 'send' button, he looked to Syllona, mouth quirked, faintly amused, but moreso confused.

You can talk if you want :)

[lexiconning]

His tracing had Syllona's full attention, watching carefully to try and memorize it mentally too. His handwriting was very neat, she noticed. Did he write often then?

When she looked up, seeing his expression she mirrored the confusion. Then, of course, she looked down to the tablet in her hand.

"U-um..." Oh no. Here she was choking on the words. Blushing, she tensed up, avoiding Jericho's eyes. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again...

"I-" She flinched, drooping her head down as her free hand raised back up to the tablet.

I'm not very good at talking.

[eyecontact]

Yikes. His eyes winced a little at her reaction, feeling a rush of alarm and embarrassment on his own behalf...and hers, as well. Did he insult her? He had no idea something like that would cause such a start.

He felt terrible, watching her close up and hide again – and just when it seemed they had some pretty common ground to build up on! Gosh...

The words on the screen only made him feel guiltier.

I'm sorry. :(

[lexiconning]

It took her a few moments, pushing away the embarrassment and disappointment because she just couldn't do it! Jericho was much nicer than anyone she'd spoken to already, shouldn't that have made it easier to open up? But it was so hard; one second she knew what she wanted to say, but when she heard the sound of her own voice...

Syllona sighed, forced herself to sit up a little straighter, and frowned down at his apology. She gave a slow shake of her head.

No. It's okay. I'm just like this.

A beat. This sort of thing happened more and more frequently since... a while now. Worrying about it only made the anxiety worse, she'd found. But she knew. She knew she had to keep pushing.

You're being really nice to me Jericho. So

She looked up. "So I can try. If you... really want."

[eyecontact]

Her voice was painfully small at that, as if speaking took more effort than it really ought to have. It was none too soothing to hear, then, her trying to endure something that seemed to cause her such trouble for his sake. And he thought...

Well. It was better to spell it out than keep it just a thought. Eyes downcast on his tablet, he took a long time to type. There was a lot to say.

You can do whichever one you like best and that's OK with me.
I was just surprised because it's usually the other way around...in something like this the other person suggest I talk. And then it gets awkward because I actually can't. :\
Sometimes people think it's weird or even rude to talk aloud to me when I can't but it's not...I like hearing what people have to say.
I like reading it too though. So don't worry, one way or the other.
OK?

He sighed, tapping and sending that off. It really was all turned around, wasn't it?

[lexiconning]

That was an awful lot of typing he was doing. With not much else to grab her attention, she glanced over at the notebooks and pads next to him. Boy, he really did do a lot of writing, didn't he? The sight did give her a chance to realize something a little weird; Jericho was still writing even though he had asked her to speak. Could it be a similar problem? No, he just seemed too... friendly for all that non-sense.

Finally, there was the beep, and she read over what he had to say. Her posture went rigid halfway through, eyes flashing back and forth from his face then back to the tablet.

"You can't--" She started, but brought the tablet up higher to read on. As if doing so would make her read faster. She frowned at the end, blushing yet again and slapping a palm over her forehead. Idiot.

Then she let out a huff, straightened up and grabbed up her tablet again, glaring determinedly into it's screen.

I didn't know you couldn't talk! Why didn't you tell me? I must look so pathetic to you.

She looked up, bring that glare along, then... the posture, expression and all deflated with a sigh. Yes, it was embarrassing, but that didn't make it Jericho's fault. If anything...

I'll write too. It's easier for me and I don't mind.
You write all the time right? So I'll just do it with you.
Your handwriting is really good by the way. I'm kinda jealous.

[eyecontact]

He startled when she spoke aloud again, sitting up straight and blinking. But...

Pathetic–?

Jericho looked alarmed at that, his eyes wincing quickly not a moment after. His arms felt all jittery, skin tingling with nervous energy – the sort one gets in the thick of an uncomfortable bit of conversation. This certainly qualified. The queasy look persisted as she looked up at him again, persisted with a gulp as she sighed her displeasure.

His eyes dropped quickly to the screen the moment words came his way. It was hard to feel good about the compliment at the end, given her reaction not even a moment ago...

I don't think you're pathetic at all :(
I didn't mean to make you feel bad...
You can write if you want I honestly don't mind.

[lexiconning]

She stared, eyes widening as the changes in his expression caught up with her. His wincing and nervousness in turn making her shoulders sink and sparked a little fluttery ache in her chest. The embarrassment worsened, but now for a new reason.

Seeing that typed frowny face was the worst, and it struck her then that she had no idea what to say to make Jericho feel better. So... so with nothing else forthcoming she wrote what out what came to mind.

You didn't do anything wrong. And you're really nice Jericho.
I just think its weird and probably not fair because you have to type but I just do it because I can't speak up right.
Writing is just easier than talking for a bunch of reasons.

[eyecontact]

OK.

He couldn't argue with whatever made her feel best, could he? Even if it seemed strange to him...Jericho sighed, shaking his head a little in some attempt to shake off nerves. His mouth quirked for a second more, rereading 'not fair'...Not fair, huh? Well, that wasn't anybody's call, really.

So, that was that, wasn't it? Resolved in that, Jericho looked up, mouth twisted to one side and eyebrows raised, giving her a very welp kind of look, shrug and all. It was a look that watered away to some distant attention as he stared past her, leaning toward the street as he did so, squinting as another bus came by. Is that...?

No, it wasn't. A quick double-check at the map past Syllona's head made him doubly sure. So he relaxed, typing again.

The next one should be the right one. We can take that one to get close to the gardens.

[lexiconning]

By the time he shrugged, Syllona herself had calmed a bit. She'd expected the misunderstanding to drag on, for Jericho to think she was as stupid as she felt and.... and he hadn't. Somehow.

But what was that, he was looking at something behind...? Syllona squinted, momentarily confused. She turned, never liking the idea of anything behind her. Another bus... She tensed but then looked over, and waited for Jericho to type.

Ah, the next one, okay. She let out a breath she hadn't remembered holding.

Thank God! I got nervous. But. But okay. And the route to the gardens was the orange one. Right?

Her eyelids crinkled in a smile, even if there wasn't one on her mouth. Even as the bus pulled in to drop off more strangers, and she gave her veil a little tug to cover her bangs, she kept her attention on him. Tentative, but hopeful all the same.

[eyecontact]

He nodded, exchanging the look to a degree. Right. He was relieved, feeling that tense, awkward air fizzle out. A hurdle cleared, it seemed.

Funny, it had usually been him fussing quietly or flinching at times, but it seemed he was on quite the other side of that dynamic. It was an interesting perspective...Maybe I'm getting better at meeting strangers?

The wait wasn't going to be terribly long, but he wasn't about to let their conversation wither and die. He typed again.

Which places you visited did you like?