[ The guy seems affable enough – maybe even beyond the norm in Panorama, the way he launches into conversation without hesitation or suspicion. Then again, Stephen's personal experience with the populace might not be average for fluxdrifts – apprehensive body language, recoiling magical auras, even a shoe store cashier who doubled over and asked him to leave on account of the screams. It was... telling. Some of the people who'd uncovered his nature had been extraperceptive, but not all. He wasn't used to having to maintain this level of control in the Void. To having anyone who would see.
Thankfully, this guy seems more interested in making his pitch than interrogating a passerby about his particular universal background. Or maybe not pitch so much as... an invitation? From what Stephen's gathered about those who roam the diffusion zones, areas of interest that come up are often seen as resources to be guarded for one's own. Meanwhile, this guy's handing out invites to the party. ]
Forum? [ And a crawling phone – literally. Stephen thinks over the past couple weeks, to the intermittent rumors of loot out in the shifting wastelands, to people chatting over their phone screens at the local burger joint. He hasn't gotten a phone himself yet, but from the guy's words and the way something sparks around the atoms of his otherwise typical fluxdrift aura, Stephen has an inkling where some of those rumors may have come from.
Then again, he looks him over – the red face, the old eyes, the dad-at-Disneyland sunhat on his head. ] You're not... a storm chaser? One of those diffusion zone scouts?
[ No one ever accused Stephen of being too tactful. Then again, there's an edge of genuine intrigue to his voice, a glint of excitement in his eyes. ]
no subject
Thankfully, this guy seems more interested in making his pitch than interrogating a passerby about his particular universal background. Or maybe not pitch so much as... an invitation? From what Stephen's gathered about those who roam the diffusion zones, areas of interest that come up are often seen as resources to be guarded for one's own. Meanwhile, this guy's handing out invites to the party. ]
Forum? [ And a crawling phone – literally. Stephen thinks over the past couple weeks, to the intermittent rumors of loot out in the shifting wastelands, to people chatting over their phone screens at the local burger joint. He hasn't gotten a phone himself yet, but from the guy's words and the way something sparks around the atoms of his otherwise typical fluxdrift aura, Stephen has an inkling where some of those rumors may have come from.
Then again, he looks him over – the red face, the old eyes, the dad-at-Disneyland sunhat on his head. ] You're not... a storm chaser? One of those diffusion zone scouts?
[ No one ever accused Stephen of being too tactful. Then again, there's an edge of genuine intrigue to his voice, a glint of excitement in his eyes. ]