[Take me out to the Ball game]

[gypsy_embodied]

Back alleys and strangers on the street, life in New York City took so much heat. Or something. The lyrics never sat well with Rhovas, as he was more a fan to modern rave music than he was to folk music from Wisconsin. The man sat on the brick fencing to the duplexes on Keplar Avenue wearing no more than the usual billowing silk pants of black.

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[gypsy_embodied]

Rhovas shakes his head, smiling still. As she grwos more in comfort, as does he, leaning back more.

"I have no city. We have no city. Nomads never have a city,but in such, we are not bound to them. But, no, Lan. You are the first. I find it rather interesting. I know so little."

[gypsy_embodied]

"To you and to others, yes," Rhovas offers his palm, the color of the scales changing to a rusty brown.

"There are some of us who can become as reptiles are, but I am not one of them," smirking. It's nice not to have to keep everything held in. "And I enjoy your questions. For once in a very long time am I allowed to show someone myself like this. It is forbidden where I come from."

[nightflowering]

She traces the scales with a fingertip and lays her hand over his palm. "The Nexus is a wonderful place. I am, ah, unaccustomed to looking like my natural self."

"I understand why it's necessary to keep hidden, to keep safe. But, but I also know how important it is to sometimes be free." The feathers flicker up again. Non-human body language can be tricky to decipher.

[gypsy_embodied]

He just smiles, nodding slowly. Understanding. "Aye. It is certainly nice to be free. I like the Nexus more than my own world. People are far more accepting of certain cultures."

[nightflowering]

"Yes. That's it. Or, they're more worried about themselves and their homeworld than you." Still holding his palm she rubs her cheek against it - almost cat-like. Lan is trying to get a better scent from him.

"But even so, I miss my home. Not my homeworld, but my home, my city, my sisters."

[gypsy_embodied]

Sadly, whatever scent she can find is one that smells wrong. Dead. If she can find it. Or soap. Lots of soap. Rhovas likes to keep his mirages smelling like cherry blossoms and spring rain.

"Tell me about your sisters?"

[nightflowering]

"My sisters? They are like me. Slight, shy, quiet. We're not a loud or large people." He does smell odd - oh well, can't have everything.

"They look a little like me and I look a little like them. And you? What about your family?"