Vox drifted across the plaza, limbs (or tentacles, or something equally wiggly) poised in a show of excitement. With a flash of too-white teeth, he zeroed in on Noe, who was busy adjusting trays of shells and sauces on one of the tables. "My dear Noe!" he exclaimed, voice humming like radio static. Without preamble he swooped forward, wrapping what looked like arms around her. It might have been a hug—until his body seemed to slip and spark right through hers, like a current searching for a ground. A faint, electric crackle danced across her coat, disappearing almost before anyone could blink.
Pulling back as though nothing unusual had happened (that was how you gave someone a hug, right?), Vox flexed his fingers—or were they filaments?—and gave her a sweet smile. "So lovely to see you in the flesh," he said, no trace of irony in his tone. Then, pivoting on a heel that hadn’t existed a moment before, he made a beeline for the taco spread.
Grabbing the nearest shell, Vox proceeded to fill it with an unholy combination of dessert sauces, random shredded vegetables, and—was that pickled stardust? "A bit of sweet, a bit of…whatever this is," he mused aloud, sprinkling something labelled Rumored Hel Snips on top. He held his culinary creation aloft for the group to see, wearing a grin that suggested he expected applause.
Then, without hesitation, he took a massive bite—his eyes (all of them) widening in delight. "Mmm! Tastes like a lullaby performed by squeaking door hinges," he declared happily, glancing at Dahlia. "You should try it!"
Pulling back as though nothing unusual had happened (that was how you gave someone a hug, right?), Vox flexed his fingers—or were they filaments?—and gave her a sweet smile. "So lovely to see you in the flesh," he said, no trace of irony in his tone. Then, pivoting on a heel that hadn’t existed a moment before, he made a beeline for the taco spread.
Grabbing the nearest shell, Vox proceeded to fill it with an unholy combination of dessert sauces, random shredded vegetables, and—was that pickled stardust? "A bit of sweet, a bit of…whatever this is," he mused aloud, sprinkling something labelled Rumored Hel Snips on top. He held his culinary creation aloft for the group to see, wearing a grin that suggested he expected applause.
Then, without hesitation, he took a massive bite—his eyes (all of them) widening in delight. "Mmm! Tastes like a lullaby performed by squeaking door hinges," he declared happily, glancing at Dahlia. "You should try it!"
vox
