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Week Two: Friday
Who: Ayamfua and Jerzy
Where: Lobby
When: Week Two: Friday, Evening
What: Fua has been waiting to speak to him, with powers so similar
Ayamfua sailed through the front doors generally unremarkable and silent. While there was a preternatural grace to her, she had an easy, personable way around her that tended to help her not stand out. With her scarf wrapped around her head and her simple, dark denim jacket and long skirt with boots she faded into the crowd rather well. For those that did not know some of her mystique and history, she would hardly turn any heads. A very dramatic difference from most of the other beings around who were her age.
In another five hundred years, the story would likely be the same. After this much time, it hardly seemed likely that she'd change all that much in that time. Holding one hand with long, delicate fingers in front of her nose she felt her temporary body heat warm the front of her face. Poor lost thing, mesmerized by her eyes. It would hopefully be a lesson to not be so dangerous. No crimefighter herself, Fua had seen strong, blustering men fluster after waking up and knowing that they had, for a short time, been utterly powerless. It wasn't a feeling she cherished, but all things had their uses.
Patiently, she strolled to wait by the elevators with her young companion. He didn't know it yet, but she was very fascinated by him. She could see the power in his vision, like a translucent beam that heightened her own in some ways, but sometimes showed little phantom shapes. Like most odd symbols of people's abilities, Fua learned to quickly ignore it when she needed to focus on him. He looked so fragile, scared even. She looked to her left and caught his nervous eyes.
"Hello." She said graciously, nodding her head a little at him, with the softest smiles. Then she turned back to stare at the elevator display, as seemed appropriate in today's age. You did not befriend the faun without patience.
Where: Lobby
When: Week Two: Friday, Evening
What: Fua has been waiting to speak to him, with powers so similar
Ayamfua sailed through the front doors generally unremarkable and silent. While there was a preternatural grace to her, she had an easy, personable way around her that tended to help her not stand out. With her scarf wrapped around her head and her simple, dark denim jacket and long skirt with boots she faded into the crowd rather well. For those that did not know some of her mystique and history, she would hardly turn any heads. A very dramatic difference from most of the other beings around who were her age.
In another five hundred years, the story would likely be the same. After this much time, it hardly seemed likely that she'd change all that much in that time. Holding one hand with long, delicate fingers in front of her nose she felt her temporary body heat warm the front of her face. Poor lost thing, mesmerized by her eyes. It would hopefully be a lesson to not be so dangerous. No crimefighter herself, Fua had seen strong, blustering men fluster after waking up and knowing that they had, for a short time, been utterly powerless. It wasn't a feeling she cherished, but all things had their uses.
Patiently, she strolled to wait by the elevators with her young companion. He didn't know it yet, but she was very fascinated by him. She could see the power in his vision, like a translucent beam that heightened her own in some ways, but sometimes showed little phantom shapes. Like most odd symbols of people's abilities, Fua learned to quickly ignore it when she needed to focus on him. He looked so fragile, scared even. She looked to her left and caught his nervous eyes.
"Hello." She said graciously, nodding her head a little at him, with the softest smiles. Then she turned back to stare at the elevator display, as seemed appropriate in today's age. You did not befriend the faun without patience.