It was quiet.

It was unsettling how quiet it was, sometimes. The oppressive atmosphere in the swamp and the city, the one that made you feel like you couldn't even talk if you tried, it was disquieting, disorientating. He was used to a more freeing atmosphere, to be frank, but at the very least, he could come down to the beach and feel more... at home. Homesickness was a problem for him, one he couldn't solve easily. He had no mementos from the other dimension, other than his memories, and more than anything, those memories hurt. To know what you wanted but to be unable to get there was hellish, to know that you had lost all that you truly loved in a permanent fashion - it felt wrong. He felt unnatural, moreso than usual, out of place in terms of body and in terms of space and time. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the inherent feeling of wrongness.

The sand didn't help. On the beach, under the moonlight. It was cool, not hot. It didn't scorch his hairs and warm his body, feeling like he could break down from sweat he didn't produce, it chilled him. It didn't help the alien feeling, but... the texture was the same, at least. Even if it wasn't the texture of his true home, it was still comforting enough to know that sand was the same across dimensions. Not that comforting, but it was enough for his melancholy mood right now.

He was humming quietly, the only song he really knew, blank indigo void, filled with tragedy and discomfort. This place was wrong, and to attempt to adapt was most certainly a futile effort, but he had to try. Even if he couldn't stop grieving, he had to try to move on.

// [member=1444]aya[/member]

tags - "speech"

His humming stopped, though his eyes were still planted up on the stars, refusing to turn his indigo gaze over to Aya, too enraptured to turn away from the anomaly. "Stars," he said, voice sounding so sincere and revealing that it was disquieting, to him especially - the cold veil of his voice had been something maintained since he was a young child, and not even he had heard it be anything but deep and robotic. "Stars are... different. Wrong."

"Self, came from elsewhere. Most likely theory previously, was from different location on same planet, but... stars confirm theory that self changed realities." There was quiet again, letting the sound of the waves lapping up on the shore fill the void in the conversation. "Self, old. Almost double age of average female goliath birdeater - more than triple maximum age of male birdeater. Have died, though. Multiple times. Always... always came back. Occasionally, returned within hours. Most recent death, though...."

He made a sound like a deep breath being inhaled and shifted backwards, rotating to stare Aya face to face, in the eyes, like a real conversationalist. "Greetings, subject Aya," he said, the greeting egregiously out of order in the conversation. "Does subject require something?"

tags - "speech"