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[dontdrinkthe]

[Alone out on the docks, a young teenage boy has been turning a bright pink orb in his hands distractedly, wondering just how to make it work. The voices he has heard from within its sphere have not been surprising to him, he is always surrounded by voices, and he pays little mind to them. Yet still, he assumes it to have some... purpose. He is

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Voice

[bornfromdeath]

Hello. Are you alright? You don't look quite well.

[dontdrinkthe]

I don't?

[...how he looks is really not something Artemis spends time thinking about.]

fffff sorry for lateness ORZ

[bornfromdeath]

You look like you could use a few good meals, at least.

I welcome you gladly~

[dontdrinkthe]

Oh.

[That's... not so unusual, he supposes. He hears it, from time to time. He looks like a child, wandering on his own. He doesn't expect others to know from sight alone that he is has lived centuries, that he cannot starve to death, mostly eats for appearances, occasionally for pleasure.]

I am all right right, thank you.

[He offers a brief little smile as reassurance. It's an earnest expression, even if it's small.]

\o/

[bornfromdeath]

Good. Ah- are you a telepath?

[His voice is more curious than anything else. He hasn't seen many people who can talk without moving their lips.]

~<3

[dontdrinkthe]

[He is a telepath, but he shakes his head.]

I was born mute. The sphere does the talking, I think.

[bornfromdeath]

Ah- I see. The Core really does provide.

[dontdrinkthe]

Telepaths must not be such a strange thing here.

[He's been asked several times... perhaps that should make him feel brave in admitting it, but he's spent too many long years wrapped around that secret.]