The black-haired man in a wheelchair turns towards Lady DeVespe. "[color=fdc68a]That woman had horns, right? Hello again, by the way.[/color]" Shiny, black horns. Reminds him of some kind of insect, like a beetle. Is it fake? He wants to know, but the new redhead has already gone down to the lower deck, out of sight. A mental sigh.

	He turned his wheelchair to the sea. The cold and damp surges of wind. If only he could feel it, it'd probably feel good on the skin. instead, he can only 'feel' the process of rust in his 'bones' speeding up, if even slightly. XeVespe seems to be liking it, her face looks quite a lot more mellow now, possibly relieved that the dock and the land it stood on are so far out of reach.

	What's a good conversation starter? "[color=fdc68a]So... What are[/color]" your abilities? A bit broad... "[color=fdc68a]No, do you ha[/color]"ve magic powers? Isn't that a bit ableist towards those who aren't magically inclined? "[color=fdc68a]H-how do you fare in combat?[/color]" He realized it just shortly after he said it, who asks a lady how they fare in combat? But no, it's a pressing matter for this woman in particular, she who's so obviously running away from something... Yet, would her having two guards already be a sufficient answer to his question?

	He mentally felt the cringe. He's been out of social circles for too damn long.

	[@spiral origin]