The jester remains still as the ghost materializes and goes to hit him, unfazed by what's happening. Ah, what a depressed statement. Excellent prose. When he hears the woman's voice he listens keenly, though his still and neutral body language would not suggest it. Ghost sound tastes... Different. Like someone left a blueberry pie on the windowsill to cool it down but forgot about it until the end of the day. Her mentioning how they have been adrift for some time inspires him with confidence, especially when she mentions that they have already been seen by two other towns. How very exciting!

There is no air of sympathy coming from him at all, even as the ghosts are given identities. When she walks through him he shudders and turns his body. He has never felt something similar to that before, though he's tempted to ask her to do it a few more times, that he may better describe it. But he doesn't for now, not deeming it appropriate. He tries to face where he assumes she is now that she has passed through him. All he has to go on regarding the nature of ghosts is stories, so he'll stick with what he knows for now.

The hand actually touching his skin comes as a surprise, but he remains still. His flesh feels rough in texture, firm due to the absence of muscles aside from those needed to move his mouth. A stark contrast to the gentle ethereal touch of the ghost. When she finishes introducing herself he takes a smooth step back and does an exaggerated bow. The bells on his hat jingle obnoxiously as his head tilts down and flips back up, his arms going out to the sides. His voice alters as he speaks, suddenly sounding overly pompous and regal.

[color=662d91]"What a lovely name, ma'am~ I am Amrik, a bringer of joy, good tales, and good times. A jester, if you will. I figured it best to approach you before the common folk got too carried away with their silly superstition. This is the port of Azure Strand, I wouldn't get too comfortable in this place, the smell gets to you after a while. Not to mention the amount of pickpockets. Oh my, the pickpockets!"[/color]

He stands straight and rests his hands on his hips, a grin so wide it would split open the face of any other creature concealed under his mask. His posture is almost perfect as his chin tilts up. He maintains this stance for a few seconds before hunching slightly, holding his hands together and sliding what he once more assumes is closer, now sounding more devious and inquisitive, with the voice of a woman. Young and pleasant yet husky, as though she has spent the past few nights shouting at the tavern or arena. He often does this when he's excited. So get used to it.

[color=662d91]"Would you care to tell me more about what happened to the crew of this ill fated ship? I would be glad to try and help a few lost souls find their way back home. You say you don't recognize the stars? Just how long have you been at sea?"[/color]