Isn't it always easier (perhaps not better but certainly easier) to speak of things less tragic? And there are many stories Elidibus can speak about. He allows a faint smile to touch his lips.
"You may judge my ability for yourself." He adds some other snacks to his plate and makes certain whatever beverage he grabbed will be adequate before following her suggestion to find a place to sit. Mercy has only to pick a spot and he will make himself comfortable at the same cluster.
"Amia. This is the place you once lived?" Though the flow of their conversation has let him deduce she's as much an alien to this world as he is, he has yet to drop the formalities of speaking 'in public' as it were. It seems as though it comes second nature for him to do so.
She collects her own things and finds a comfortable spot at one of the little tables they've set up. There are more than a few chocolate things on her plate. Why forego when it's right there? It's still astounding to see the breadth and volume of foods available in Gloucester. The grocery store is more a land of plenty than many people know, she thinks.
"Yeah. Well, it's the... world. I lived in a village called Evergreen. That's in Leigland, which is... it's like America? It's bigger'n Massachusetts. States." Politically, anyway. She's not entirely sure how big geographically it is by comparison. "What's your hometown, then?"
He asked of her hometown and it is only to be expected that she would ask about his.
"Amaurot," comes the simple answer. Though his expression remains serene, it seems Elidibus cannot completely hide the attachment he has to his hometown. The emotion in his tone looks to betray a complexity of love and something else, which feels like a distance that simply can't be written off as a sudden (but recent) departure.
It's as if he hasn't seen his home for a long time even before he came to be on Earth. And while Elidibus may well be intentionally showing such emotion to better connect with Mercy, it is not faked.
"To my people, it was the center of our civilization. I would find it difficult to compare it to anything I have learned so far about this world." He could describe buildings that rivaled skyscrapers or the lack of want for anything, from food to clothes to shelter. But what mortal civilization had ever been as grand? His view is biased of course but also thrown in sharp and painful contrast by recently restored memories.
Yes, it would be best not to speak too much, if only to remain polite surely.
"So Leigland is the nation you lived in, Evergreen the village. And Amia the world as you knew it?" In comparison Elidibus has said very little about his place of origin. Yet it seems attentive and curious and content to question Mercy further about herself if she lets him get away with it.
"You seem to have adjusted well." He offers a faint smile. Granted it's been two years. And for mortals that is ample opportunity to settle in. "Do you live under the ADI's jurisdiction or with the landlady named Bonnie?"
Meanwhile he's not ignoring the food on his plate. Every so often he pauses to pick up a something and pop it into his mouth. Most of what he grabbed was bite sized and not at all intrusive to continuing a conversation.
no subject
"You may judge my ability for yourself." He adds some other snacks to his plate and makes certain whatever beverage he grabbed will be adequate before following her suggestion to find a place to sit. Mercy has only to pick a spot and he will make himself comfortable at the same cluster.
"Amia. This is the place you once lived?" Though the flow of their conversation has let him deduce she's as much an alien to this world as he is, he has yet to drop the formalities of speaking 'in public' as it were. It seems as though it comes second nature for him to do so.
no subject
"Yeah. Well, it's the... world. I lived in a village called Evergreen. That's in Leigland, which is... it's like America? It's bigger'n Massachusetts. States." Politically, anyway. She's not entirely sure how big geographically it is by comparison. "What's your hometown, then?"
no subject
"Amaurot," comes the simple answer. Though his expression remains serene, it seems Elidibus cannot completely hide the attachment he has to his hometown. The emotion in his tone looks to betray a complexity of love and something else, which feels like a distance that simply can't be written off as a sudden (but recent) departure.
It's as if he hasn't seen his home for a long time even before he came to be on Earth. And while Elidibus may well be intentionally showing such emotion to better connect with Mercy, it is not faked.
"To my people, it was the center of our civilization. I would find it difficult to compare it to anything I have learned so far about this world." He could describe buildings that rivaled skyscrapers or the lack of want for anything, from food to clothes to shelter. But what mortal civilization had ever been as grand? His view is biased of course but also thrown in sharp and painful contrast by recently restored memories.
Yes, it would be best not to speak too much, if only to remain polite surely.
"So Leigland is the nation you lived in, Evergreen the village. And Amia the world as you knew it?" In comparison Elidibus has said very little about his place of origin. Yet it seems attentive and curious and content to question Mercy further about herself if she lets him get away with it.
"You seem to have adjusted well." He offers a faint smile. Granted it's been two years. And for mortals that is ample opportunity to settle in. "Do you live under the ADI's jurisdiction or with the landlady named Bonnie?"
Meanwhile he's not ignoring the food on his plate. Every so often he pauses to pick up a something and pop it into his mouth. Most of what he grabbed was bite sized and not at all intrusive to continuing a conversation.