That was... that was two? of the questions all at once he ventured never to verse and, yes he could remember each and every flower stuck inside the oceanbed of her short hair, but he was mostly visibly archiving them for later approaches of a more thorough answer. She was smart. She was clever. When he made jokes, she actually got them unlike some of the newer residents here at Pax Letale, apartment of intoxication and absurd characters. As he leaned forward onto the table with the stave of his suit-armored elbows and adopted the bastard son of comedy -- seriousness -- into the residence of his flickeringly curious face... he wondered if she was joking or serious. That's the fuckin' curse of never taking things seriously (most of the time.)
Question one. "I believe that mythology, no matter how abstract or unreal it is, has it's living material in the imagination and in a realm entirely separate from the reality we experience. In myth, Gods and Goddesses needed what's called an avatar, and not some gay-ass blue alien, to come to Earth. The avatar, meaning a meatbag." he spread his arms, hello, meatbag here. AKA human being.
Secondly, and more importantly advanced on like a slowly perishing lion, moving in for the kill, he stared off to the side of their conversation. Into the mudhoney pool of his espresso, did that electrical shit happen a lot? Yes, it actually did. Increasingly, even. Why it was that she made him notice more so than he was able to abide understanding with himself, was beyond him... at least, for now. "It does. It actually happens every single day, in one way or another... are you suggesting something?"