[Leaning forward a little further than she'd like for the sake of her balance, she can make out at least one of his raised - empty - hands, one side of a blond head of hair, and...]
[A cat ear?]
[Curious. For a second or two she entertains the idea that he might look more similar to people of His Majesty's sort, or perhaps Goofy's, than she was expecting.]
I don't, [she admits, voice thoughtful. She's heard of far more places than she's been to, but Paris is not one of them, and the 'where' of it is still more obscure to her. It's got an interesting name - awfully short - but that's the extent of its meaning to her. (The fact of it is, however, that the details help. Not because they're things she needs to know, exactly, but because they do fill the silence, and because she's used to knowing things about people. That's the majority of her experience with human beings, after all - being aware of all sorts of things about them, from the useless and mundane to the thoroughly private. It's been very strange, not knowing anything about anyone.)]
[More quiet than before, she echoes,] Superhero...? [as though she's testing out the word. From secondhand memories far older than most of the rest are, her mind supplies her with an example, but Pete never did make for much of a hero, super or otherwise. (Surely this fellow doesn't look anything like him--?)] ... I see.
[His request, however, seems to encourage her back into silence. For a good few moments, it looks like she might not respond, but in the end, she does.]
... Naminé.
[There's a subtle raise at the end, as if she's waiting to see whether it might provoke any sort of reaction. (There's one she has in mind, and she's hoping she doesn't find it.)]
no subject
[A cat ear?]
[Curious. For a second or two she entertains the idea that he might look more similar to people of His Majesty's sort, or perhaps Goofy's, than she was expecting.]
I don't, [she admits, voice thoughtful. She's heard of far more places than she's been to, but Paris is not one of them, and the 'where' of it is still more obscure to her. It's got an interesting name - awfully short - but that's the extent of its meaning to her. (The fact of it is, however, that the details help. Not because they're things she needs to know, exactly, but because they do fill the silence, and because she's used to knowing things about people. That's the majority of her experience with human beings, after all - being aware of all sorts of things about them, from the useless and mundane to the thoroughly private. It's been very strange, not knowing anything about anyone.)]
[More quiet than before, she echoes,] Superhero...? [as though she's testing out the word. From secondhand memories far older than most of the rest are, her mind supplies her with an example, but Pete never did make for much of a hero, super or otherwise. (Surely this fellow doesn't look anything like him--?)] ... I see.
[His request, however, seems to encourage her back into silence. For a good few moments, it looks like she might not respond, but in the end, she does.]
... Naminé.
[There's a subtle raise at the end, as if she's waiting to see whether it might provoke any sort of reaction. (There's one she has in mind, and she's hoping she doesn't find it.)]
My name is Naminé.