Nᴀʀᴜᴋᴀᴍɪ Yᴜ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
covenantal) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradis2015-12-18 05:04 pm
covenantal) wrote in paradis2015-12-18 05:04 pm
ＳＯＲＤＲＥＡＣＨ
"Chatterclock" - Dave Strider
(When equipped, add Chatterclock's stats as a bonus to the wielder's.)ACTIVE SKILLS:
- HP: --
- ATK: ☆☆☆
- DEF: ☆
- SPD: ☆☆☆☆☆
- MGC: ☆☆☆
- RES: ☆☆
- MP: 100
(All of Chatterclock's offensive spells require the blade to make contact with the enemy at least once before implementation.)PASSIVE SKILLS:
- Clockstopper: Halts one enemy for a short time, MP 8
- Clockstopper II: Halts all enemies for a short time, MP 16
- Accelerate: Increases speed of wielder for a short time, MP 8
- Accelerate II: Increases speed of wielder for a longer time, MP 12
- Memento Mori: What he used against the Hellbull, MP 36
- Counterclock: [NOT YET UNLOCKED, effect unknown], MP 80
- Auto-target
- Danger sense
- Diagnostics
Yu NarukamiACTIVE SKILLS:
- HP: 223
- ATK: ☆☆☆☆
- DEF: ☆☆☆
- SPD: ☆☆
- MGC: ☆☆
- RES: ☆☆☆
- MP: 75
PASSIVE SKILLS:
- Ziodye: Deals heavy Elec damage to 1 foe, MP 12
- Mazionga: Deals medium Elec damage to all foes, MP 16
- Garula: Deals medium Wind damage to 1 foe, MP 8
- Bufula: Deals medium Ice damage to 1 foe, MP 8
- Agilao: Deals medium Fire damage to 1 foe, MP 8
- Diarama: Moderately restores 1 ally's HP, MP 6
- Marakukaja: Increases Defense for 3 turns (party), MP 24
- Tetrakarn: Barrier that reflects phys dmg once, MP 36
- Resist Elec
- Endure
Oh I'm sure some of ours will hit 100
The first day was overwhelming, with so many voices and faces and light. And he didn't say it, he couldn't say it, but to see trees growing without a ceiling, to meet fresh soil instead of stone, to see the sky--he's never known such expansiveness in all the long age of his life. He's kept his own counsel as often as he's rambled out loud, since Yu brought him up into the living world.
He finds he's comfortable enough with the stars. The sun, too, soon feels natural, and he's fond of the way he can track time by tracing the light it casts through the window on the walls and floor. But sunset and sundown--those daily holders of change--draw out his silence and thoughtfulness.
The other thing that does is Nanako.
Chatterclock's silences all have different characters. Sometimes he's very obviously asleep or resting, his presence muted in the room so that he might almost be a normal sword, if not for the faint suggestion someone else there, like a napping cat under the bed. Sometimes, when Yu's friends come over, it's like he's still figuring out how to be around some of them, figuring out which ones he clicks with naturally (Yosuke, Rise) and which he feels clumsy around (Naoto, mostly).
But after Nanako's visits, as the stars fade, and while the last glimmers of light slip below the horizon, Chatterclock gets pensive and wistful, like there's something just out of reach, something he'd want, if he just knew what it was.
He's in that kind of mood when he speaks up, breaking the silence in the room.]
Hey, Yu.
[Metaphorically, anyway. He's been careful not to alert Yu's uncle to his presence. Chatterclock might come from the sixth floor, but Dojima's scary, yo.]
PROBABLY
Yu had done what he could to handle his friends, to field their many, many questions for and about Chatterclock. He knew his new friend was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things, happening after so long alone in the dark. Of course, it had been kind of a mixed bag, considering he'd been on the point of collapse from the agony of walking on a broken limb for so long, so they'd had to do a little covering for each other. Since he was healed, though, he's been doing what he can. Yosuke tends to stick his foot in his mouth the most, but with Rise around, she can shut him up with a well-placed foot stomp or cheerful, loud interruption when need be.
The only one who hasn't really been by is Teddie. He came once, with Yosuke, and was strangely quiet, watching Chatterclock with thoughtful eyes.
Yu continues to dwell in the quiet, generally at peace aside from his more speculative thoughts, when Chatterclock does indeed beat him to the punch. Mentally, of course, since the sound of voices would alert Nanako in a heartbeat. Yu glances at the sword, reaching out to brush his fingers over the grip. ]
What's up?
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Why do you go into the Labyrinth?
[There's a doubled meaning there, overlap: What's the team's mission, and what does Yu in particular hope to find in that age-old tomb?]
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After a long, long few moments of no reply at all, Yu grasps Chatterclock by the hilt and pulls the sword into his lap, sitting crosslegged so he can lay Chatterclock across his thighs. One of his hands rests loosely on the flat of the blade, warm and steady, while his other remains loosely curled around the hilt.
Memories come unbidden into his mind, the briefest of flashes of screaming and crying and the pale face of a child, eyes closed.
His fingers drum, just once. ]
There's a war coming.
[ His voice is even, but low. ]
My parents are diplomats. They've been working my whole life to try and stop it. They're not succeeding. My friends and I decided to go into the labyrinth to see if we could find anything, anything at all, to help us stop the war before it starts.
[ He's quiet then, bound up, reserved, tense. ]
... and I want to know the truth behind the mystery of the labyrinth.
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Yu has something personal at stake, here. For a quiet fraction of an instant, Chatterclock considers whether that changes the offer he's about to make.
Nah.]
Let's make a Pact for real.
[Personal or not, he can also feel the truth of Yu's words, the conviction behind them. The fact of the matter is, Chatterclock would offer himself up for probably any reason Yu could dream up. He's already grateful to be out of there. To be with people. To have an identity, a name that is his.
He just wanted to know. And, knowing, he feels his instincts validated.
Chatterclock likes it here. He likes Yu's family, he likes the town. He likes Yu's friends and leaning what makes each of them tick. He likes Yu's love for them brushing past him every time he hears one of their voices, sees Nanako sneak a peek through the crack in the door.
The word 'war' almost makes him shiver, like something dark ghosted through his shadow. This town, it's too full of life and joy for something like that. The plague human beings pass unto themselves. Death.
Not here.]
I'm game if you are.
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It took him a long time to tell his other friends, too. He doesn't like to allude to what happened at all.
After the initial moment of memories, the emotions rolling off him have been murky. He's feeling many things and not actively trying to identify any of them.
His fingertips press into the flat of the blade. ]
What do we have to do?
[ It's true that his stake in this is personal. But the larger piece of his decision is:
He trusts Chatterclock. ]
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[Look here, not there. It's like Chatterclock's trying to lead them both away from that dark, unknowable place. He understands. He's not touching. He won't push. Probably, in an hour, he'll forget all about it.
(He will and he won't. The memory of it will come back again when he's not thinking about it, and then he'll have time to wonder. To worry. But not now.)]
Right now, we're kind of plugged into each other on all levels, which, like, it got the job done in our time crunch but isn't necessarily the best way to go about shit, you feel me?
[It's dangerous, say his under-feelings. Dangerous and seductive, to be woven in so deeply, so completely with someone he trusts. Beyond the power at stake, beyond the knowledge he's putting his life in Yu's hands and vice versa, they have to be aware of the immediate, terrible intimacy the Pact creates between them. If Yu hasn't picked up on the risks yet, Chatterclock, at least, knows better.]
Clarifying what each of us wants and is willing to put in will strengthen our bond in the important places and trim down the distracting shit. It also, you know. Puts in safeguards? We're dealing with some heady junk here and it's just good practice to be clear about what it is we're doing. And like, being. To each other, in this thing.
[A beat.]
Hahaha, hell, I'm literally asking us to DTR. Laugh my fucking ass off.
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[ There's traces of surprise and wonderment in his mental voice. The idea of not being so closely attuned to Chatterclock after four straight days of it already, somehow, feels foreign. It's not an unwelcome thought - there is a level of discomfort he can't deny with being so exposed to the air all the time, so unable to keep up the masks to which he's always been accustomed - but it is ... strange, suddenly.
He's not against having Chatterclock in his mind. This connection being a two-way street, he can see into Chatterclock's, too, and really does have full faith in him. Not to betray him, not to be masquerading as something, someone, he is not. He doesn't believe Chatterclock has that kind of guile.
But there is something unsettling about the entire concept that he can't deny to himself. About two people, two minds, so deeply intertwined. It's not the way Things Should Be. In the long term, he wonders how well he'd still be able to delineate them, how much those boundaries might start to blur. ]
Alright.
[ And: ]
We're friends, aren't we? The rest we can figure out. What do we need to do?
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There's no hiding the sweet rise of gladness from Chatterclock, like a bubble popping perfectly to the water's surface. Yes. Yes, that's exactly it. Friends. He's Yu's friend. His excitement is childlike in its simple sincerity.]
We'll make it like,
[And he explains it with sense and image, a series of impressions half-figurative and half-feel, because how else does one describe constructs built of magic, bridging minds?
There's nothing they can do about distance; for their magic to be shared efficaciously, they have to be that close. But they can set up something like a system of valves and channels: connections to deliver battle thoughts and power instantaneously, without data loss, but shunts off that excess emotion before it can breach the barrier of self. Membranes through which thoughts might only be shared when they wish, like any other two humans in the world. Feelings will still leak through, but isn't that true in the physical world, too? There's so much a person communicates nonverbally.]
I think... um. The swanked up language to make that official is something like... My hand to your hand I swear, my strength to your strength be bound... Something something.
[There's a brief brush of embarrassment, but not the existentially anxious kind this time. Probably, even before the centuries of amnesia, he just wasn't paying attention to this lesson.]
It's all kind of a mental thing anyway, the formal shit. I mean, for some people it'd be a huge deal, but the words don't matter so much with someone of my temperament as long as we've both got the same idea.
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And that's nice. That he can be this to Chatterclock. That Chatterclock can be this to him.
Yu rolls his gaze heavenward as his mind fills with foreign ideas and sensations. There should be something odd about thoughts filling his attention that aren't his own, but somehow, it doesn't feel that way. Without meaning to Yu fills Chatterclock's ideas in with his own, like he's responding in a conversation, which is what this is. Valves and channels solidify into a network of pipes and gears and steam, created entirely in the strange magic space between them.
A system that they build together, entirely between and just for them. ]
My hand to your hand I swear...
[ Yu repeats the words, and they're a murmur, but they resonate with something he couldn't put a name to. ]
My strength to your strength be bound.
[ Without thinking he carries on: ]
Partners in power and faith, long may this union be crowned.
[ There's a pause, and Yu takes one of his hands off of Chatterclock to brace his elbow in his thigh, hiding the lower portion of his face in the cup of his hand. Anyone just looking at him might think he was uncomfortable, but Chatterclock will be able to feel the fact that he is simply kind of embarrassed. ]
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Hahaha. In sickness and in health, till death do us part, right?
[It's good-natured ribbing served up with the hint of a grin, but it's obvious Chatterclock feels a little silly, too. It doesn't dull at all his gladness to be part of this, the indescribable rightness as the new Pact takes form between them, solid and strong. Those points of contact with Someone Else still feel so alien and familiar at the same time. He was always meant to do this.
(How can he know marriage vows and not his own name?)
What was concept and idea crystallizes into something real on the magic plane, solidifying the bonds between them, making them efficient. Strength to strength: They will fight. Hand to hand: They'll work. Partners in power and faith, together, they'll pull their way down to the heart of the Labyrinth. They'll find what beats there.]
I guess it does kinda sound like that. Same idea in a way, though. Partnership. [A small, casual-to-hide-I'm-happy shrug.] The idea we're more than the sum of our parts.
[Instead of blazing with light and then dimming as before, Chatterclock's glow warms up gradually until he's just right in Yu's hand.
Friends.]
Yu, let us be in accord.
[The words are less formal when he says them this time, but rich with knowing, now. Full of trust. Yu is the partner he was made for.]
I, Soul-forged Chatterclock, will be your sword.
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[ He radiates embarrassment, hiding his face a little further down in his hand, shoulders hunched. But a trickle of amusement threads its way through the fallen-apart mess his composure has become. It's hard to feel bad or even strange about it when Chatterclock is so warmly approving.
Marriage vows. It does sound a lot like that, doesn't it?
Well. This is a pretty serious kind of Pact, even if it isn't marriage. ]
We will be, [ he echoes. More, is what he means.
With a barely-voiced sigh he sits up straight, looking down at Chatterclock and laying his free hand on the blade again. A faint smile tilts up one corner of his mouth. ]
Let us be in accord.
[ Yu starts smiling outright, an expression that makes his face crinkle. ]
I, Yu Narukami, will be your wielder.
[ Yu only maintains this for a moment before moving his hands again, gripping the hilt properly and lifting Chatterclock in the air. This might seem like it's for the sake of a flourish, the way Chatterclock catches the faint moonlight from outside, but in the end Yu just stretches his legs out in front of him with another sigh, this one different in tone. Close to a hiss and more relieved. ]
It was getting uncomfortable sitting that way, [ he says, by way of explanation. It was putting pressure on his ankle.
Leaning back against his pillows, he lays Chatterclock across his lap again. He doesn't say anything more. It feels as if one should say something, after something so symbolically important as all that, but there don't seem to be words. Instead, he floats across a feeling of contentment. ]
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Mmm. Same.
[The final components of the Pact swivel and click into place, reassuringly solid and well-made. As simple as their contract is, it suits them, and Chatterclock's more than satisfied with what they're making together.
The sword's glow locks in and then sinks into the core of the blade--not vanished, but hidden within. Pact confirmed.
The figure appears without fanfare, without a flicker; there isn't and then is someone else on Yu's bed, sitting against the wall with his hands laced behind his head, eyes closed, legs bent comfortably over Yu's lap so their thighs aren't touching--or wouldn't be, if he weren't already as insubstantial as a vision. He's blond and slender and simply dressed--foreign fashion, definitely, and somehow archaic, too--and seems completely unaware of his own sudden appearance.
He can't be older than Yu, from the look of him. Might be younger, even. His hair is so pale it's nearly white: a moonbeam blond, like that glint of light along the blade when Yu lifted him.
For whatever reason, he's not wearing shoes. Maybe because Yu's in bed. Nobody wears shoes to bed. His feet are as narrow as the rest of him.
Without opening his eyes, the apparition dips his head in Yu's direction.]
Thanks for doing this for me, you know.
im revoking your friendship credentials
--and then an apparition appears besides him.
It's a credit to his temperament that he doesn't jump, or even make any kind of sound. He just pulls in a long, slow breath, his eyes very wide. Shock rolls through him like the rumble of distant thunder, shaking up his lungs and his thoughts and leaving him exposed to the sky.
His eyes scan over the legs resting so casually over his - skinny and long - and track the rest of the way up Chatterclock's body.
This ... this is a boy. This is the boy in the sword he's still holding. This is the real, human person. Yu knew all along that Chatterclock was a person, believed it almost from the moment they met, but to see him - all skinny limbs and an affected casual air, cut with boyish angles and hair that looks almost the same color as his own, in this light -
that's something so different.
What ... does he do? Will this illusion break if he speaks? He's suddenly endlessly grateful for the changed nature of their Pact; he instinctively slammed shut all the channels running from himself to his friend, so that Chatterclock wouldn't feel the maelstrom that's taking place inside his core right now. Won't be stirred from his moment of peace by the wild uncertainty that's making his pulse hum too fast in his wrists.
Chatterclock nods at him.
Carefully, as if Chatterclock might blow away from the slightest breeze, Yu reaches out, aiming his hand for where Chatterclock's shoulder would -- looks like it should -- be. ]
... Chatterclock?
[ He speaks aloud without thinking, his voice pitched low. ]
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Hm?
[It takes him a moment.
He realizes all at once that the angle's wrong, that the hand he felt wasn't on his hilt or his blade or on any part of him that makes sense, that Yu's staring at him like he's seen a ghost and what the hell, why is he over here, what is--k n e e s.
Chatterclock scrambles upwards and the mattress doesn't even bend beneath him, but he stands on the bed with his back to the wall and he has a back, he has hands, he is slapping both of them over his mouth and whispering--]
Fuck!
[But beneath his hands is a disbelieving, open-mouthed half-smile, tugging the corners of his eyes into shocked laughter that he doesn't let out. He moves his hands away from his face and stares at them for several seconds, rubs the pad of his thumb over the calluses--calluses!--on his fingers and palm--then dive-slides for the window to see if he can make his reflection out in the glass.
His makeshift mirror is not particularly effective at this hour of night, but he makes an attempt to restyle his hair anyway, running his hands back through it until it's swept artfully to his satisfaction. Only then does he look back at Yu, pull those long limbs back in to sit properly (all legs to himself this time), and clear his (!) throat.]
I knew I was hot shit.
[How he tries to hide his shock, excitement, bewilderment, how terrifyingly little he understands about his own existence--it's all so much more obvious on his living, moving face, in the tension of his shoulders.]
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This is a real person, but not a real body, it seems. Could everyone see Chatterclock like this? Or just him? ]
I knew, [ he echoes, without thinking. His eyes are moving back and forth across Chatterclock's frame, flitting to meet his gaze (red...) and dropping to his shoulders, watching tension bunch and shift. Chatterclock is all nervous movement, like he's got more energy than he can possibly burn, while Yu ... Yu just remains still. Calm, steady, quiet. His hands are drawn back into his lap now, both resting on the sword, the pads of his fingers pressed to the flat of the blade. All ten of them. He's not sure if a physical connection is required to maintain Chatterclock this way. He figures trying can't hurt. ]
I knew you were in there, [ he clarifies a moment later, and something about the tone of his voice will make it clear all at once just how electric he's feeling. It's not clear at all in the set of his body, but his eyes are a little wide, and his breath is coming a little fast. Chatterclock's excitement is affecting him, and besides, the enormity of this revelation all by itself would be enough to set his mind buzzing. To most, he'd seem calm, but Chatterclock will be able to see it: he hasn't been this keyed up since they met, since their lives were in mutual danger. ]
... how do you feel?
[ It's a deliberately broad question. Physically? Mentally? Emotionally? ]
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But that's way too existentially confusing, and his nerves are jangling too hard for him to pursue the thought out loud. Chatterclock just shakes his head and picks his hand up again to investigate his palm, opening and closing his fingers a few times.]
I dunno, good question. With my nervous system? [Wait, that's not--] I mean it doesn't look like I have any mass to speak of, but obviously something's there or I wouldn't be reflecting light like this. So I guess I'm not imagining that shit's solid, I gotta be interacting with something...
[He hesitates, then tries slowly to push his hand down through the mattress. It doesn't work, but still, the bed refuses to show any sign of his actually being there. Chatterclock frowns thoughtfully.]
I can feel it, but I guess it doesn't feel me? ...I can still feel your fingers, too. Just saying.
[The red eyes dart up again to catch Yu's face, then skitter aside, down to Yu's hands on the blade. After a moment, still without making direct eye contact, he tilts his head a fraction.]
You feel anything when you touched me? I mean... over-here me. When you tapped my shoulder.
[I felt it, comes across the connection, more a sense-memory than a real, formulated thought.]
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Of course, that had also been the case when they met, just-- he's getting off track.
In response to the bird-quick shifting of Chatterclock's gaze, Yu taps his fingertips on the sword without thinking, and then stiffens slightly. ]
Sorry.
[ Reflex, of some kind. I'm here, that movement said, which was probably unnecessary. ]
I...
[ After a beat, Yu lifts his hand again. His fingers hesitate in the air twice, but finally he reaches the space where Chatterclock's shoulder should be.
He does not meet physical resistance. Chatterclock's form blurs over his fingertips, and Yu yanks his hand back, settling it on the sword after a moment of wordless wonder. ]
... sort of?
[ He considers this, and his mouth twists. ]
There's nothing physical to feel. It's like ... like static electricity, [ he blurts out, and then feels stupid, ducking his chin while his cheeks fill in with faint color. ] It's ... more like energy. A feeling. But ... yeah. [ He settles, his jitters leaving him as he realizes that the nature of his answer doesn't really matter as long as the answer itself is yes. When he looks up again, he smiles. ] Yeah, I did.
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Cool.
[It is. It's very cool.
Chatterclock looks down at himself again, somewhat flustered, and smooths his shirtfront down, scrutinizes his own slim arms, his slender chest.]
Wonder if this is what I looked like. You know, before.
[He tilts his head at the sword.]
If there was a before, I guess.
[He flexes an arm to test its strength, its mobility, and hums a doubtful note. He lifts it up, appraising himself.]
Past me should've lifted more, maybe.
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[ Yu doesn't exactly freeze.
But he does go very, very still. ]
"I heard voices... are you talking to somebody?"
[ Ah.
They've been discovered.
Yu stares at his still-closed door, picturing the small girl that must be lurking just beyond it. ]
Do you want to meet my cousin? [ The mental question is calm, perhaps remarkably even, held apart up above the sudden rush and churn that his emotions have become. ]
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That's okay?
[Beneath the surprise runs a faint undercurrent of unease, but not about Nanako, not about Yu. Something about the bond between family, the unspoken duty to keep her safe. The disturbance introducing any new element causes that balance.
He's not nervous about Nanako. He's nervous for Nanako, about making her aware of him, about scaring her.]
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You can come in, Nanako. There's someone I want to introduce you to.
[ Yu suffuses their bond with warm feelings - of reassurance, of acceptance, of you belong here - but he only gets a moment for it before the door opens.
Nanako pokes her head in first, big brown eyes wide and curious. She freezes when she spots Chatterclock, and nearly yanks the door shut. But she doesn't quite finish the motion. She's just ... hiding. ]
It's alright, Nanako, [ Yu calls out, gentle, encouraging. ] He's a friend.
[ As shy and solemn as ever, Nanako again peeks her head into the room. After a beat, she actually steps inside, pushing the door mostly closed behind her out of politeness. She steps across the room, but stops a few feet away from the bed, apparently unsure of just how close she can venture. She glances at Yu several times, her hands fidgeting behind her back.
In response, Yu holds out his hand to her.
With a visible swallow, Nanako works up her courage and trots the last few steps needed to put her next to the bed, immediately reaching out to curl her tinier hand into Yu's. She watches Chatterclock steadily, her chin ducked down. ]
"Um... hello."
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Uh. Hi. [He swallows and glances nervously at Yu, then breathes out and faces Nanako again, chin still lowered.] I'm Chatterclock.
[He twists a pinch of his pants hem between his fingers, aware of how not-human that name sounds, aware of the strangeness of his existence, despite all Yu's reassurance. But he glances up again, meets Nanako's eyes, and then clears his throat and keeps going.]
Yu helped me out of the Labyrinth the other day, so, um. That's why I'm here.
[This is so unfair. He doesn't have anything to hide behind or a hand to hold while he meets new people. Where the hell are his societal cues?
After a moment, though, one occurs to him, and he bows his head, more polite to this tiny girl than he's been to anyone so far.]
Sorry for intruding on your hospitality.
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But after that, he stays quiet, holding his cousin's hand and watching Chatterclock from the corner of his eye. He wishes there was more he could do. He's never seen his friend quite this ... restrained. And even though "never" only constitutes a few days, the shift in Chatterclock's demeanor is still very striking. It's not that he thought his rambling, babbling friend couldn't be respectful when the time called for it. Yu knew he could. But the politeness he poses is undercut with fear, and that is the part he doesn't like.
Nanako, though, knows none of this. She just knows there's a strange, slightly transparent boy sitting on her big brother's bed. He seems nice enough. He even talks a little bit like big bro, enough to get a sudden smile out of her. ]
"Hehe, you sound like big bro. He said the same thing when he first got here, too! At least, that's what dad says. I was really little, so I guess I don't remember."
[ Yu has the grace to look embarrassed. He had said something very similar - sorry for intruding - when he'd first arrived, fourteen years old and lonely and scared but determined to be a good guest.
Nanako looks at him, and Yu nods his understanding. He looks at Chatterclock, and he thinks: ]
She wants to sit on the bed with us.
[ It's a statement, but also a gentle request. One Chatterclock is allowed to refuse. Meanwhile, Nanako keeps talking. ]
"Big bro helps everyone. He's even helped me and dad. So if that's why you're here, it's okay. Um, does this mean you're gonna stay with us?"
[ Her free hand presses into the bed, and she bounces up on her toes, trying to get a better look at Chatterclock. Yu, for his part, is kind of radiating embarrassment, and not even over their mental connection. It's just obvious in the slope of his shoulders, in the way he kind of stops looking at either of them for a few moments. ]
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...But then, maybe he can understand it, or at least the impulse behind it. Sorry for intruding. It clicks, suddenly, when Nanako calls Yu's uncle "Dad" that Yu entered this family later. That he came in from somewhere else.
These distinctions mean a lot to Chatterclock. Dad. Cousin. Big bro. They land heavier in his consciousness than other words, like weights holding the rest of his understanding of this world together. Signposts all the more visible for his lack of experience with them.
His hands loosen, release the hem of his pants.]
Okay.
[Nanako's smile, curiosity, and willingness to talk have eased the taut anxiety from Chatterclock's chest, leaving mostly the wrong-footed awkwardness of any guest and a stirring of answering curiosity. He rests his hands in his lap, one cupped in the other, pressing his thumb into his palm to keep himself from fidgeting. Meets her eyes properly, even though his ears are heating up under the overt attention.]
If that's okay with you. Like. It's your house.
[After a moment, just a tiny bit emboldened by the lack of instant rejection, he tilts his head.]
Someone ought to help you look after this guy, right?
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