Murmuring a soft you're welcome and gathering his tools back together, Fox stuffs them into his bag and fastens it shut. He doesn't have time to compliment the hippocampi heads before they're tucked into a pouch, but he has a gut feeling that Hadama knows how good they are. As for the Voice, his expression darkens considerably, and he rolls his shoulders in a gesture that isn't a shrug so much as it's as though he's trying to get rid of something.
"I did - more than once, I'm afraid to say," he mutters. "I used to be an Ascended, before the war. It didn't agree with me though - I wouldn't have considered myself on that side of things, even though I didn't have a pulse to prove my humanity." Clearing his throat awkwardly, he manages a brief smile for Hadama.
"It was good to meet you. Maybe I'll see you at that festival?"
"I did - more than once, I'm afraid to say," he mutters. "I used to be an Ascended, before the war. It didn't agree with me though - I wouldn't have considered myself on that side of things, even though I didn't have a pulse to prove my humanity." Clearing his throat awkwardly, he manages a brief smile for Hadama.
"It was good to meet you. Maybe I'll see you at that festival?"
welcome to the desecration, baby
we built you up and we'll tear you right down