It couldn't be helped, but both Cloud and the mechanic actually turned to each other now but Cloud had turned back to Fenrir just as quickly.
The mechanic turned to the bike with a sigh and tapped at a loose knob of sorts hanging over its tube. "Been this way for about three months, already. Aliens," he was whispering this to the brunet before he nodded again to Cloud who was was actually listening into their conversation as he sought for a rag. "They look human but they're not from Earth. Some of them are from the future, they say. And they've been coming to New York City by the number. Whenever we tell them it's 1964, they start crying."