It's a man. On a couch. And over there,
another man, on a couch. They could almost be related, though the golden haired one looks human at least. The other one has a few feathers and a long, furry tail, and he's the only one who bothers with a question
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Mikhail doesn't really care, but Ciel is not going to be ignored so easily. She heads towards the strange man as far as the least will let her, babbling something insistently that would likely only make sense if one is used to interpreting Russian from someone with a speech impediment.
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The little girl is looked at again, and he lifts his feet off the floor. No touchy!
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"Oh no," says the one in green.
"Of course not," says the other.
Horrible liars, they are.
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"Techno! Behave. He might be new here," scolds the other.
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And Kuja's eyebrow raises. "Your point is...?"
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There's a clump of young Black Mages watching Kuja. He looks like their grampa! But they remember to be careful about alternates.
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