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[@BrutalBx]

Nzige had to chuckle at Theo's introduction. [color=ffff00]"Well met, Theo from Everywhere,"[/color] Ziggy said, though she had a hunch he was American, possibly a New Yorker if her voice analysis was accurate. It was a very American thing to refuse to be defined, to see oneself as the 'default', and to believe that America's culture, like its military presence, was global. Ziggy did not hold these things against Theo, they were merely aspects of his culture that he imbibed from his environment, and one cannot control the circumstances of one's own birth.

Upon being offered the top bunk, Nzige approached the bed. She didn't mind which bunk either way, but as her hand absentmindedly went up to touch the frame, the inaudible sonic ping that occurred from the contact got swallowed up by the metal structure, returning a very faint echo to Ziggy's finger. These beds were made of vibranium, though not pure. The metal was highly resistant to vibrations, and could be forged to either absorb all sound or to perfectly transfer it without itself receiving any shock or wear.

What Theo said next though...one didn't have to be a sound expert to pick up on the muted pain behind the words. Nzige listened carefully to what he had to say. Ziggy wondered if Theo was here for a chance at redemption, not unlike herself. His statement about his laugh piqued Nzige's interest. For her, sounds, and by extension, voices and music, were mathematical waves, purely scientific. Though she understood the effects music could have on emotions, her analytical mind had to draw the line whenever a voice or song was said to have 'magical' properties. Sound was vibrations and nothing more, anything else was purely subjective and psychological. She would have to ask him to laugh later so she could analyze its properties. Maybe it was similar in concept to the brown note, and resonated at a frequency that somehow interfered with neurons instead of with the bowels.

Putting such thoughts aside, Ziggy could tell Theo was waiting for her response, waiting to know if she would accept or reject his existence. Her thoughts zeroed in on his hobbies. Baseball. Ziggy liked Cricket because she watched it with her stepfather growing up, but decided to avoid this topic; as far as she knew, those who liked cricket hated baseball, and those who liked baseball hated cricket. Like rugby and American football, it was a source of nationalistic pride, and the knee-jerk dislike of whatever was different or 'deviated' from what one was used to. Beer. Unfortunately, Nzige's religion forbade the consumption of alcohol, so any potential conversation that could be had was already dead.

Building shit. [color=ffff00]"My teacher builds things,"[/color] Ziggy finally said, sidestepping the issue of Theo's mental health. For now, she'll treat it as a non-issue and respectfully deal with him like a normal person. As someone who's on the spectrum, Nzige most of the time just wants people to understand without making a big fuss; she wanted neither annoyed, inconvenienced rejection, nor patronizing sympathy, and hope Theo was the same way. Ziggy went to her luggage and pulled out a long bag. Unzipping it, she took out something long and thin wrapped in cloth. Pulling off the cloth, she revealed a metal rod with a triangular cross-section. [color=ffff00]"My abilities involve sound, so my teacher made this for me to help me channel and focus my power. You've seen Star Wars, right?"[/color] Gripping the handle with both hands, Ziggy channeled the iconic lightsaber activation crackle followed by a steady hum through the rod, though the rod did not glow. She playfully swung it around slowly, adjusting the volume of the hum to sync up with her swings, though she was careful not to let it touch anything as doing so would create a cacophony similar to fifty smartphones vibrating on an aluminum table. She hoped something silly like this would help relieve any tension and break the ice properly, though she had slight misgivings about using Princess Shuri's gift as a plaything.