Friendship is Magic

Mr.Face:

"Seriously? I suppouse that I will just have to supply a rundown of teas then. I have Earl Grey, Lady Grey, Darjeeling, Oolong, Chai, Maple, ginger...really the list goes on." I explained briefly. It was still ridiculous to me.. the idea of not knowing that there were different kinds of tea.

Cricket

". . . huh. Learn something new every day, I suppose." I wondered how much time someone had to have on their hands to memorise the fancy names of all of those. "If you're meaning for me t' chose one, I'd pick . . . let's see 'ere. Eenie meenie mynie, probably ginger, because that's one of th' only actual words I recognise there."

Mr.Face:

"Clearly you need to work on your vocabulary." I stated. "However I can get you ginger tea. OS, request a kettle of ginger tea be brought up at dinner, for our guest." I commanded. I loved that I'd been able to install a whispernet in the government building residential wing...so I could talk to the OS whenever the need arose. Made everything exceptionally easy.

"Yes, sir." She replied, in that same blue, and silenced herself.

Cricket

I blinked at the sudden voice and glanced around the room. "Huh. Computer lass gets around . . . as for th' vocabulary comment, aye! I'd like to. But tea isn't quite th' place I'd think t' look."

Mr.Face:

"Oh, yes, that is the OS. You have probably experienced it on a more... business like level before. It is female because the colour blue sounds female. And blue is a pleasant colour. ...I think." I stated. The OS is a computer-user interface at its basest level, and really has no set gender. " And as to the vocabulary aspect of this...esoteric vocabulary words pervade the entirety of society. One only needs to look."

Cricket

"Aye, blue's quite nice, actually . . . color of th' sky most days, sometimes th' water. 'as a nice ring t' it, too. Th' word, I mean. Blue. It's like a a soft little pop of something bursting, like . . . almost a water droplet." I paused a moment, and the silence brought me out of my rant and back into the reality of where I was. "You 'ave any favorite words, Face?"

Mr.Face:

"Words? Oh yes. Thousands." I replied simply. I heard someone enter the room and it was simply a member of the waitstaff, rigid in their movements so as to not forget where they were headed. Carrying the tea kettle and my glass of Pellegrino. "And your conceptualisation of the word blue is interesting." I added, uncertain as to how to carry on proper non-conciliatory dialogue.

Cricket

"Thousands?" I could hear someone's footsteps, then the clink of drinks being set on the table. I imagined a blank white mask where I thought the person's face might be, though I wasn't sure if even the kitchen workers would have to wear one. That had got to be the most one-of-a-kind job in the world, serving drinks to the only faceless dictator known to character-kind. Or at least, that I'd heard of. Wondered what that had to be like. I waited until I heard them leave. "That many, hm?"

I then realised that tea in pitch black might not have been the best idea, but I could manage. I felt carefully for the heat in the dark, and felt along the hot kettle with my nail until I'd found the spout and handle. Had to be a cup somewhere . . . or, I could just pour the stuff straightaway into my mouth once it cooled down, I suppose.

Mr.Face:

"Yes. I quite enjoy the intricacies of language. As such...it is difficult to choose." I replied, listening to him feeling his way around the teapot. I found myself withholding a condescending laugh at that. Instead I sipped my Pellegrino, and tried to ignore the sound of my own teeth on glass.

Cricket

Ah. There was the cup. Now here was a puzzle to solve, pouring the stuff. I lined up the cup to the spout, slipped one hand to the handle while I placed the other along the cup rim. "None in particular?" I tipped the thing until I felt something smart the tip of my finger, and sucked in a breath as I pulled away. Took a careful sip. No spills. That went well. "Aha. Not a drop."

Mr.Face:

"Vacuous, Bergamot, Rhododendron, Antecedent, Recalcitrant, Sanctimonious, Sacrosanct, Verisimilitude...As I said the list goes on." I expounded briefly on the subject of the English language.

I continued listening to the saga of My Pris---Cricket and the cup of tea with quiet amusement. As if the dark really made it that much more difficult. "Congratulations on your mundane victory, I suppouse." I stated dryly.

Cricket

Once again, he was speaking a different language. Not at all an unpleasant one, save the occasional click of teeth. I tried the sound of the first, having no clue whatsoever what it might mean. "Vacuous . . ."

Aye, I probably looked hilarious to him right about now. Lovely. "And I'll 'ave you know that I can get by in th' dark more than most. Shadows, glimpses . . . I prefer t' not take in much more than that." I took another stubbornly proud sip. "It's th' pitch black that might get me, if, for instance, I'm pouring tea. Other than that? Pft. I don't mind."

Mr.Face:

Words sounded odd in the accent. "Repeat that, if you would. Your dialectic manipulations are...interesting." I requested, tilting my head to pretend to look at him. Though I realised that the gesture would be mostly lost on him, I did it anyway, simply to go satisfy my mental aesthetic picture.

"More than most...certainly. However... that doesn't mean that you're particularly...fantastic at it." I allowed the grin back into my voice there... Yes, one could argue that he was competent...but... it lacked... Confidence. I think. Or...something. He had a general picture but needed the detailed inventory. One should not have to feel up a teapot to find its notable features. "Keep in mind that you are at least decent enough to be amusing."

Cricket

"Vacuous," I repeated, more for myself than for him. It was an interesting word, that one. "So I've 'eard; I can 'ear you grinning. Unlike you I don't need t' be fantastic at it, 'owever interesting that might be." I did have to wonder exactly what I did look like, from his 'view'. Seeing with your ears . . . that had to be interesting.

Mr.Face:

The accent was strange. It made words...bend almost. Something fun to listen to. I had to wonder about odd words like... Predilection or Aristophanes. What would those sound like?

" So... you can't hear a teapot, but you can hear variation in facial expression? That is... Interesting to say the least." I asked, again amused by the whole thing. "And, I assume that it is quite interesting, though...my point of view is ridiculously skewed in that respect."

And it was at that point that dinner came out. I think we were having salmon this evening, though I'd set the schedule for what I wanted to eat every day months ago, and never bothered checking my own menu.

Cricket

"Aye. I 'appen t' listen t' people more than I listen t' teapots."

Another person came in, this time with something that smelled like fish . . . the good kind, mind you. It was then that my watering mouth informed me that I was hungrier than I'd thought. When was the last time I'd eaten?

But anyhow. I was curious. " 'ow much can you 'see', any'ow?"

Mr.Face:

"Expand on your question. Because as it currently stands, there are several ways I could answer that, many of which I am quite certain would evoke some kind of negative response regarding literal interpretations from you." I requested. I paid the waitstaff no mind as they left us dinner, and eventually they left.

I went ahead and did some preliminary cutting into my own plate, not actually bothering to eat yet... I didn't want to run the risk of puncturing my tongue mid conversation so early in the evening.

Cricket

To talk, to eat, to eat, to talk . . . both at once? I decided to keep talking as I carefully searched for the silverware. "Details o' things. Textures, th' shape of things . . . since you were grinning at me for not knowing where th' 'andle is on th' pot and don't seem t' 'ave any trouble finding th' placement of things like that, I assume you can see that much. Objects, faces?" By that point I'd found some arrangement of stuff on my plate, and took a careful bite.

Mr.Face:

"Ah. Alright. Allow me to simply give you a rundown of...this place. The table we're currently sitting at is made of hard wood, polished twice, and extends fifteen feet laterally, and about three feet horizontally. The back wall is fifteen feet and three inches behind us, and comprised entirely of smooth concrete. The floors here are wood, though not nearly as well maintained as the face of the table. There are four chairs in the room, we are sitting on two. One is at the other end of the table and one is on my right, twelve feet away next to the service entrance, in case I am ever hosting a large meeting down here for any ridiculous reason. The silverware provided to the both of us proceeds as follows with 5.4 centimetres of space between each individual piece. There is a soup spoon and a standard spoon on the left, the dinner plate, a salad fork and a regular fork, followed by the steak knives. Based on the acoustic resonance of the metals, one can deduce that they're stainless steel alloys. The ceiling extends a good twenty feet above us, ending in a mild arch... without running the calculus it probably curves at six inches per four feet or something like that, making the actual heights of the ceiling vary between twenty feet and 18.5 feet. " I stated, listing off facts calmly. "You aren't wearing shoes, and most of the rest of your attire is... not faring well under the duress of being worn almost constantly. You have hair. You stand at approximately 5'3"." I proceeded, just to make sure I got all of that in there.

"As for details that I cannot pick up on- Your face is nearly as blank as mine. Any bizarre stitching or anything unless exceptionally obvious is lost to me regarding clothing. Most subtle textures are right out. Things of certain densities obscure my view, as well as things of certain densities or resonant frequencies being nearly invisible. Most doors are nearly indistinguishable from walls unless a notably different material or depressed into the wall slightly. Intricate wall details are completely useless, so you will never see any crown moulding here....Does that answer your question?" I went ahead and finished up. After that I went ahead and had a bite of food, because I would probably have time to avoid accidentally stabbing myself while he processed that.

Cricket

If it's possible to gape while chewing delicious salmon, I was doing that. It's hard to express amazement while drinking tea, so to keep myself from whistling I took a controlled sip. The only sound after that was the tap of the cup against the table.

Then I whistled. ". . . A'right. Since most of that I can't tell myself, you could either be making things up on th' spot or really good, which . . . you're probably only really good. Oi my my." I paused. "It'd be odd not knowing peoples' faces, 'owever . . . aye, that'd be odd."

Mr.Face:

"I've never had issues with it before... I don't need to know what people look like that specifica--" ...I had spoken too soon. Literally, too soon. I'd accidentally gone and punctured my tongue by speaking too soon after I'd eaten the salmon. Extraordinarily classy, that was.

Without another word I simply disentangled the muscle from the lateral incisor. I could feel the blood from the wound dip down the side of my mouth. Again...So very classy. "...Excuse me for a moment..." I mumbled, before standing up to leave and try to clean the blood from my mouth. It would ruin the rest of the flavours.

Cricket

"Well, you seem t' 'ave cut yourself off rather quickly. What is it?" I raised an eyebrow in the dark. There wasn't anything out-of-the-ordinary going on, from what I could see.

Mr.Face:

Well. This was interesting. I had no desire to fill him in on my personal dental history at this point in time...however, it did look rather rude to be walking out on him in the middle of dinner like this. "I'm experiencing a bit of a... dental... logistics issue. I'll be back in a moment." I explained briefly. In part because speaking like this involved a lot of avoiding the tongue... it wasn't terribly painful- I'd done this kind of thing many times before... But... the swelling always threatened to cause more puncture wounds.

I continued out the door and towards the most direct route to my own room, to run the maintenance on this mess.

Cricket

"That doesn't sound pleasant," I muttered as he left, and then found myself alone in a dark and alien room. Which ... One can argue whether being alone in a dark and alien room is better or worse than being in a dark and alien room with Mr. Face, and the answer to that argument I'm not quite certain of myself.

It wasn't so bad. Hah, I no longer had to worry about manners, did I? ... And I still had food, didn't I?

I plucked a few bites of fish from my plate and downed them with a grin, kicking up my feet onto the table just to the right of the steak knives. Ah, that was delicious. I hadn't had food that delicious since raw fish. It was beautiful. Juicy. I loved it. Downed quite a bit of what was on my plate; not sure exactly how much, but quite a bit, quite fast.

I reached for the teapot to pour some more, and then had a thought.

...Huh. worth a try.

I leaned back in my chair, and after sitting very quietly to make sure no one else was around, clicked once. Sat quietly. ...Nothing.

I tried once more, louder this time, a sound I could feel all the way down my throat, and listened with such a concentration that time seemed to still. The sound whipped to the back of the room. And still ... I couldn't hear the teapot.

Mr.Face:

Conducting routine maintenence on my tongue was something I'd gotten very used to over the years, so really, once I arrived in my room, it was a small task to appropriately clean myself up, take some anti-inflammatory medication to reduce the swelling, and suck on some ice for the same purpouse. I as always had to wonder whether or not I had blood on my teeth, so I went ahead and brushed them anyway, prior to returning to dinner.

I made my way back down there promptly...It wasn't really good manners to leave someone alone in your house... nor was it wise. I walked back into the room and noticed that he had his feet on the table. "...What are you doing?" I asked, not bothering to sit down yet.