[Barnabas just stares at him, expressionlessly. Is he listening to what's being said to him? Well, yes, but he gives no indication it means much to him. Even the mention of a horse glides off of him like it's nothing, despite his love of horses. Mostly because the word itself is unfamiliar to him, his memory of the creatures not fully complete, given their... rare and unique nature from whence he hails.
That's what happens when they fit a more... mythological space, than something more natural like a chocobo, for instance!]
Finished?
[He asks after a moment's beat once Ademnet stops talking. Then he looks to the receptionist.]
My capability is not in question, I but only offered an avenue in which your initial question may be answered. You need not complicate things.
[But then without further ado, he approaches the receptionist with that saunter of his. There's a compulsion to give his name, and he does, which then garners him a key. Holding it in his hand, he looks at it with a pinching of his brow, before attempting to inquire about where they are.
The answers are, of course, perfunctory. Wellstone, the Staywell, all of them meaningless names that do not explain where they are in any meaningful way. Perhaps Barnabas would find it infuriating, were his heart capable of such a feeling, intead he just looks to the key in his hand as if it would unlock more than the door that would prove to be the other half to their pair.]
no subject
That's what happens when they fit a more... mythological space, than something more natural like a chocobo, for instance!]
Finished?
[He asks after a moment's beat once Ademnet stops talking. Then he looks to the receptionist.]
My capability is not in question, I but only offered an avenue in which your initial question may be answered. You need not complicate things.
[But then without further ado, he approaches the receptionist with that saunter of his. There's a compulsion to give his name, and he does, which then garners him a key. Holding it in his hand, he looks at it with a pinching of his brow, before attempting to inquire about where they are.
The answers are, of course, perfunctory. Wellstone, the Staywell, all of them meaningless names that do not explain where they are in any meaningful way. Perhaps Barnabas would find it infuriating, were his heart capable of such a feeling, intead he just looks to the key in his hand as if it would unlock more than the door that would prove to be the other half to their pair.]