Tichondrius looked up suddenly when he heard a sharp yelp from the doorway, the pale white artsy girl from earlier the source of the commotion. Her familiar let forth a guffaw, amusing Tychus with the thought that it must have been the one behind making her squeal. When she greeted him, adding in a quick apology for her sudden interruption he nodded politely, flashing a warm smile toward her. The moment she mentioned her name, Rin, he recalled reading her name on the roster for the dead languages course he was assisting in. He himself was fluent in the two languages being taught to entry level dead language students, as well as two other upper level languages, and so it was likely he'd be directly instructing students from time to time. That, in effect, made the girl standing before him one of his students. [i]Interesting...[/i] the thought floated through his mind as she went on, asking if she could draw him or take a photograph of him. The comment on him being beautiful brought a shy smile from him, the idea of being called beautiful somewhat embarrassing to him. Most people thought he was strange looking, an oddity. This was a change of pace he could get behind.

The girl's bond with her daemon was clear and almost charming, the playful banter between them reminding him of his first daemon, Jin, who was sitting on the table right beside him. He wouldn't bother to wake Jin up though, not unless it became necessary to do so. When he caught Rin's eyes homing in on the collar, he immediately assumed she'd be taken aback by it, though her singsongy voice asking if he had made it caught him further off guard. Perhaps he could get along with her well enough. She had yet to be terribly put off by any of his passive mannerisms. Jin held up a single finger to say 'one moment' before sliding off of the table, collar still in hand. He quickly rifled through the box, removing a dark brown leather notebook packed with mostly filled in tan pages that held notes he wrote to himself and to others, diagrams of designs, ingredient lists for meals, supply lists, addresses to ship to, and so on. It was one of many dozen that filled his closet, each of the predecessors filled to the brim with black ink. His hand then slipped into his pocket, producing a jade coloured [url=http://www.ulugtekin.com/pen/Ulugtekin%20Montblanc/Rare/Montblanc_144_Green_Striped_Fountain_Pen/Montblanc_144_Green_Striped_Fountain_Pen_6.JPG] fountain pen[/url].

Tychus abandoned the collar on the table and held the notebook with one hand, opening it carefully to a blank page with his thumb. His other hand brought down the nib of the pen, writing quickly and fluidly, his pen darting across the page in a swift and almost showy manner, his stone gray eyes never leaving the page. The moment he lifted the pen from the paper, he rotated the notebook to her, letting her see what he had written:

[centre][i]"Hi, I'm Tichondrius Gresham (I also answer to Tychus), a fourth year and the TA for your Dead Language class. I'm also a mute, hence the writing.

I'd love to be drawn by you, but on one condition: I want you to model the collar I just made."[/centre][/i]

He looked from the book to her, reaching over and grabbing the collar with his free hand while he held the notebook out for her to read. After giving her enough time to read the writing, he took a step toward her, holding out the collar to her, offering it to her. This thumb was pressed gently against the soft almost silky leather that lined the inside and in his palm was also the lock to the collar that he expected her to put on as well so that the collar wouldn't simply fall off. The lock itself was a little embarrassing for him to hold, it being a small brass heart with a keyhole meant to only be opened by the owner of the key. Tichondrius bit down softly on his bottom lip, anticipating rejection on his offer, doing his best to hold back embarrassment.