Amalia
The surprise which flushes across his face is a gentle reminder of her loneliness, her place as other in the place she was born, lost without a mooring amongst a sea of strangers. She recoils at it, slightly, withdrawing further into herself, retreating back behind the line of us and them, Natural and Outlander. Something in her face hardens, guards against his smile. He with his memories of a home long lost is not one of Amalia's kind, whatever kind that is. He is an outlier, an interloper, a book of stories in a foreign tongue for which she lacks the key.
Amalia smiles as he gives his name, softening slightly, but even that is distant, unsure. Seiji. She likes it. "Amalia," she responds quietly, the syllables rolling quietly off her tongue. Should she bow as well? Uncertain, she tries it, the movement less graceful than his but enough to elicit a self-conscious chuckle as she immediately regrets the choice. Her head tilts in response to his question, and she shakes it quickly, indicating her dissent. "I live in the Settlement. I have... a shop."
She regards him for a moment, this cast out Outlander, lost within her world. "Do you?" she asks curiously, "Have somewhere to live?" Part of her wonders if he hopes to leave, if he has already made plans for his escape. Does he know that they are caged birds here, doomed to exist within a prison made by the sins of forefathers long since dead? If she who knows nothing but the bubble yearns for freedom, what must they feel, the newly entrapped?
Amalia smiles as he gives his name, softening slightly, but even that is distant, unsure. Seiji. She likes it. "Amalia," she responds quietly, the syllables rolling quietly off her tongue. Should she bow as well? Uncertain, she tries it, the movement less graceful than his but enough to elicit a self-conscious chuckle as she immediately regrets the choice. Her head tilts in response to his question, and she shakes it quickly, indicating her dissent. "I live in the Settlement. I have... a shop."
She regards him for a moment, this cast out Outlander, lost within her world. "Do you?" she asks curiously, "Have somewhere to live?" Part of her wonders if he hopes to leave, if he has already made plans for his escape. Does he know that they are caged birds here, doomed to exist within a prison made by the sins of forefathers long since dead? If she who knows nothing but the bubble yearns for freedom, what must they feel, the newly entrapped?
