IC Inbox: @Springtide

[inthemiddle]

If you have an IC message for Silas, you can leave it here.

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-For Ethan, Sept 2020

[inthemiddle]

[Silas reads further instruction on how to work his phone and fiddles with. He's catching on! Slowly... but somewhat surely. You're supposed to speak to this thing? And others can hear you-?]

H, hello-? Can I be heard? I apologize. This is absurd....

[Ethan can't hear him through the microphone, because Silas both turned on the audio feature only to mute himself. What Ethan can hear is the man muttering as he paces the hallway of the house they unknowingly share, Silas having just left his room to pace-]

[syntech]

[You know. Somehow. Somehow, he feels like he should have expected this. Twice now he's offered help to someone, and twice now they're actually living in the same house as he is. It's almost like it's not a coincidence.

At least there's the agreement with the Mandalorian to round things off. It takes him only a moment, blissfully useful things that his headphones are, to realise that he's hearing someone's attempt in real-time. And, in so doing, he can register that the voice is what he would have expected - that is, Silas talks exactly the same as he types.]

... Hm.

[The exhaled noise is a private one, as he rises from where he's been staring at the phone and comparing data to something on his HUD between responses, and he tucks the former into his pocket and pushes himself to his feet, leaving the quiet solitude of his otherwise empty room to go... well, assist his poor housemate. How they haven't run into each other since the clinic, who knows.]

{... Having some trouble with that?}

[The voice is, naturally, much louder and more immediate than Silas might be expecting, and he raises a hand in greeting when he steps into the hallway. At least it's convenient, he supposes, and the poor druid isn't left chattering into a voice recorder that can't even hear him. Sur...prise?]

[inthemiddle]

[Silas makes a noise of surprise that could best be described as "whhii!". His shoulders shoot up tense, as do his flowers, closing on top his head as if no longer in bloom. He nearly throws his phone, but luckily, can fumble quickly enough to catch it again between both gloved hands.

The druid twists around to see, oh, actually a familiar face!]

Sir! How-? What..? Does this device summon people!? [that's about as plausible as anything else it can do, to Silas]

[syntech]

[It's as plausible as not, given what else Ethan hasn't yet had the misfortune to find out it can do.]

{I don't think so, no. At least, it's not a capability I've uncovered.}

[He's trying not to chuckle at all, watching Silas fumble with his phone. The recovery is pretty impressive, all things considered.]

{Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. But... I came out of my room, there.}

[He thumbs over his shoulder to said room, maybe possibly hoping it will click with the druid before too much explaining has to happen.]

[inthemiddle]

[Silas silently mouths a repeat of "room, there" as he looks to the indicated spot. Oh!]

You also live here! How pleasant to know. Even if it took a startle... [that's just fine, Silas can handle a startle. This is good news, they're already somewhat familiar.]

Have you been quite well? Since the hospital incident...

[syntech]

{Lucky, it seems. Hopefully we won't have a repeat of that particular incident too soon, granted.}

[Ah... pleasantries. To Silas' probable relief, at least, Ethan doesn't look any worse for wear. Yet.]

{As expected, given the situation. I've just been taking my time looking over the phones and computers to see how they work as a base.

What of yourself?}

[Yes, he's very good at this. Just as long as someone else carries the general conversation to a topic.]

[inthemiddle]

I will certainly be more cautious. Should I start seeing in blue. [Silas eyes their surroundings before ushering Ethan to the kitchen area.]

Go along. Sit, sir. I'll make us a pot of tea. I've figured as much out for myself. [which is quite the accomplishments given the over appliance is far from Silas' world, but he saw someone use it and could mimic the action with enough success to boil water in the kettle...]

Mastery of such devices is your specialty. I take it. You are so comfortable with them.

[syntech]

[Wh--wait a second. Ethan is being ushered toward the kitchen before he's really even aware of the movements. There's a... strangeness, to his interactions here, and it's something he's not quite sure he's comfortable with. Something he doesn't know if he wants.

But all the same, the teen gives a little sigh and a shrug as he settles down - and really, he's just as brittle-seeming as he had been in the clinic. It's visible in the way he moves and sits, gingerly and with great care.]

{I'd hope we both are, in that situation. And... thank you? I wouldn't have thought to have tea about now, but it does tend to make me feel a little more energetic.}

[He's aware that's probably psychosomatic, but it doesn't matter, really.]

{You could say that. These are... considerably older than what I'm used to working with, but it always feels nice to work with technology. They're sort of the only thing I had to spend time on, when I was young.}

[That's... kind of depressing. Oops.]

[inthemiddle]

You discovered a fulfilling pursuit early on. That's very fortunate.

[Silas definitely gives off the start of a certain kind of Daddy Energy, of which he is not aware of. His general desire to be supportive and his utterly lack of tech savvy might cross him over into "are you winning, son?" territory.

He stands at quite the cautious distance as he puts the kettle on. Stove top flame. Plant. Those mix too well for comfort, really.]

Might I inquire. How old are you currently, sir?

[syntech]

{It's not really uncommon where I'm from, but yeah. Certainly, it was better than staring at the ceiling in a hospital bed for months.}

[He's definitely noticed an oddity to Silas' energy, a skipped beat somewhere in the general backdrop of softly gentle supportiveness. What does that mean? He doesn't know, yet.

It's something he's trying to figure out - as opposed to the cautiousness with which Silas handles the kettle, which... honestly makes sense, yeah. Plants and flames. Maybe he'll go looking at Fruit's Basket for an electric kettle and really blow Silas' mind.]

Huh?

[He's caught off guard enough in his thoughts that it takes a moment to process. Oh. Oh, right. They haven't even really gone through that much in the way of talking about themselves, have they?]

{I'm nineteen, as of last August. Any reason you're curious?}

[inthemiddle]

[Silas narrows his eyes briefly at the mention of a hospital bed, but connects it soon enough. He can spot the signs easily enough, the young man must have some manner of chronic illness. Even someone who isn't a doctor by trade could notice as much with a bit of perception. Silas will need to circle back to that... later. It felt too invasive to dive into now.

They don't even have their tea, yet!]

Mere curiosity, sir. I am recently twenty five. I presumed you older by merit of your intelligence.

[syntech]

[He had mentioned that he didn't think Silas could heal him so easily. Nevertheless, it's not exactly something he minds talking about, in person. As mentioned, it's... pretty obvious there's something wrong with him, physically.]

{Ah. I've heard that from time to time. You could say I started young, when it comes to my ability. I had work starting from thirteen, I think.}

[Time flies, especially when you... throw yourself nearly bodily into your work.]

{I admit I hadn't settled on an age for you. Your symphony is hard to decipher, or maybe I've just been out of physical contact for too long.

Pardon my asking, too, but - what age bracket does twenty-five fall into? It's fairly young, by our standards, but I don't... know anything about druids, I don't think?}

[inthemiddle]

I am very young for a druid. However. I realized some four years earlier than most. So I am very experienced despite my age. [he's considered to have reached mastery levels of healing, something that takes some 6-7 years. He can't bring himself to brag, the confidence required to say he's very experienced drains his whole store of self esteem. That's it, that's the limit of him talking well of himself.]

Pardon me in turn. My symphony? What do you mean by that?

-For Hansa, Sept 2020

[inthemiddle]

[Silas goes dutifully to Fruit's Basket to meet his new "mentor", as he put it. Anybody who would grace him with a bit of knowledge would be sorely appreciated. He's lost well beyond any measure known to him before. The Springtide were a sheltered, isolated people. All of this is very new for Silas.

Even the sky is new to him. Hansa is likely to catch him simply staring up at it, curiously marveling despite the foggy air making it less than interesting to look upon for anybody else. There's no difficulty pulling his attention, Silas was standing attentively wait, even though he could have taken a seat on the bench outside, that was less "polite" in his mind.]

Good greetings, Sir. [Silas can't quite help himself, a small joke escaping] As promised. I'm quite soft spoken.

[robopriest]

If it isn't my technology-addled yelling friend.

[Says the eyepatched man walking up - even though his texting was eager and upbeat, his manner is almost the exact opposite. He's holding himself with some poise, and his tone is incredibly dry. There's a hint of a smirk on his face, glancing up and down the other man - huh, those things coming out of his head...]

I'm Father Hansa Cervantes. [He nods.] A pleasure to meet you.

[inthemiddle]

[The vibrancy of his hair and the lily flowers always draw lingering looks, Silas is beyond used to that. He's actually more surprised when they are ignored or overlooked. It occurs to him they must look like mere ornaments, to those not familiar with what a Springtide Druid is. Half consciously, he thinks to move them with a flutter, to reveal how much life they have. They are absolutely attached to him, though the mop of curly pink hair obscures how.

He offers a gloved hand to shake in greeting. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the main demeanor is respectable and Silas holding himself to a similar standard]

I am Silas. A druid of the Springtide clan. [if taken, his handshake is very briefly firm, before quickly shy from the hold]

It is an honor, Sir Fathe... er. [That doesn't sound correct, his ears bounce slightly] My apologies. Is Father a... name? Or a title? I am unfamiliar with that. As well.

[one more thing added to the long list]

[robopriest]

A druid?

[There's an arching of his eyebrow at that title, as he reaches forward to take the other's hand, giving it a rather curt, firm shake. Possible too firm, though the shake doesn't last too long to tell.]

Ahaha. [A light laugh, his eye glimmering with some amusement.] I'm a priest. That's a title we're given, usually by the congregation we lead in our church. The name's Hansa. I don't particularly care what you call me.

[inthemiddle]

Yes. Father Hansa would be appropriate? It is of utmost important to my people that we call all those by their proper title.

[even if they don't want a title, it's somehow more "proper" to call them by one anyways]

[robopriest]

Whatever you want. Father Hansa, Mr. Hansa, Mr. Cervantes, Overseer, "hey you", "buddy", "pal", "person who keeps getting on my nerves". I've heard them all.

[All said with a deadpan.]

[inthemiddle]

[Ah, the deadpan really sells it, Silas' mouth squishes against itself in a contained smile. The small chuff in the back of his throat is subtle, but obvious enough he's containing his amusement. Said wryly, Silas responds]

Quite the impressive swath of titles, sir.

[robopriest]

I attract them like honey attracts flies, I suppose.

[He hears the light chuff from the other, and his smile grows in reply.]

Now, about your technology problem. What do you have questions about?

[inthemiddle]

Ah. I'm sure where to begin... the whole of the device is unfamiliar to me. [he takes the phone out and into hand, before click on a certain button- the caps lock one]

I have been educated upon this curious button. I should. At least. Stop appearing to be yelling in all messages. Are there any basics you would suggest I learn?

[robopriest]

Yes, the capslock should be off. Unless you really want something loud and important to say. Or you just don't like the other person that much.

[He nods at the phone.]

I think, first things first...no more typing like you're writing a letter. You don't need to "sign" messsges.

[inthemiddle]

Truly? [he sounds disappointed by this...]

It only seemed polite... I suppose the benefit of these messages is the swiftness for which they send and arrive. Letters are rather long form. [talking himself into accepting it, don't mind him]

[robopriest]

Exactly. Text messages are brief. They're not meant to convey a lot. You have to cut your thoughts short. Politeness has nothing to do with it.

You even can use acronyms, for even further briefness.