It wasn't uncommon to see Videogames out at night. Never on dark nights, but on the nights the moon could be seen, Videogames could generally be found trotting along. By the mountains, by the sea, it didn't matter. It's not like Videogames had anything better to do than to soak in the moon's light and comfort. He could only spend so long repairing things, after all, and .. well. It's not like Videogames had a particularly wide set of hobbies, now that he was no longer anyone important.
He's not really sure what to do with himself.
But even still, nature never ceases to amaze him.
Videogames hasn't seen anything like it, personally. He'd seen it from a distance, but now he trots along the water, letting it lap at his paws. He wonders what it'd be like, to let it pull him in. He wonders how peaceful it'd be, in the ocean, where the beautiful, glowing specks come from.
He doesn't entertain the thought.
Videogames supposes he should have expected to see someone else out here, tonight. Still, it comes as something of a shock, and he blinks at the silhouette of Rin as he debates his course of action. Turn around and hope she doesn't notice, approach her, or talk? She's so still, he can only assume she's feeling some sort of peace. Is it fair of him to interrupt? Even Videogames' careful attempts at, ah, manipulation can't prevent that, especially with how little she knows him.
Something compels him to approach. He shifts his weight, steps heavier, tries to make his approach slow and obvious to even those off guard.
"How often do you think something like this happens?" He chirps, voice low, trying to match the atmosphere. It's small talk, almost -- he thinks it is, anyways. She's almost smiling. He tries a grin, small and bright, hoping that his arrival won't make it disappear. He doesn't know. He doesn't know her well enough. He turns his attention to the water, brushing a paw through it. Keep the attention off of her, see if he can prompt any feelings or talk about it. A head-tilt. "It's pretty. Wonderful things come from nature," Even softer yet, easily passed over. A casual sort of fondness for the topic seeping into his voice. A leaden sort of weight, an awareness of his actions. He shouldn't just be .. going up to talk to people when he doesn't need to. He'll disrupt them. He's not supposed to be anything but a generic, kind figure.
This sort of approach is .. almost the opposite of that. Calls attention. He doesn't like it. He doesn't know why he approached to begin with.