play down - - - private

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]Nicolai had been here since sunrise, he would most likely stay here until the time came for his short migration with the milky white stone to the opposite corner of the camp to play with it in solitude, as he did every day, a strange event that pushed people away more than drew them near. He spent most of his days in solitude, undisturbed by his slightly unnerved clanmates, and though it was nice in many ways he was lonely, longed for company when in reality he was terrible in social situations and interaction make him feel ill. He was unsure as to what he was meant to do. Living like this, friendless, was bad but he couldn't just smile, speak normally, look people in the eye. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but that he couldn't and he didn't know why. There was nothing wrong with him, surely!

Presently, the little blue tabby was scrubbing his paws with a large flat leaf, dipping them in water and repeating the process. A soft aroma of pleasant scent was beginning to emanate from his body, namely his feet, curling in the air.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]Upon hearing a voice, Nicolai Gabriel physically didn't react, save for perhaps ceasing in his scrubbing, letting go of the wet leaf and letting it float to the ground, gently flopping down like a wet fish. The blue tabby stared at it for a while, silent save for his breathing, dark eyes widening further beyond their usually large size. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Cecilia's paws, gaze never rising above her ankles. His ears twitched, angled sideways, not towards her, as if her voice came from elsewhere.

"I-I-I-I wa-as c-cl-cl-cle-ea-ani-ng-g." he stuttered so much his words were difficult to decipher, and he split single syllables into doubles, triples, cloning sounds unnecessarily. "I-I ha-a-ad d-d-d-di-irty-y pa-aws." he scratched his wrist with his claws, for it itched, and blinked, a plaintive expression on his face.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]He was difficult to converse with, yes. Most gave up after a few exchanged situations, or he blanked out and left them standing awkwardly. Either way, conversations died with him, frequently. He had since taught people not to bother, with his secluded places of play and whatnot. The son of the leader could be described as odd, shy, whatever they wished to brand him as. He was none of those things, he told himself. Most wanted to be unique; he wished to be normal. So he told himself, he told the milky stone, he told the leaf - he was normal. And nobody would say otherwise.

When she introduced himself, he looked down and patted the leaf, as if comforting it. "I-I'm-m-m Ni-Ni-i-c-c-o-o." he murmured after a moment. "P-Pr-o-ox-xy-xy-ys-st-t-a-ar's m-my-y da-ad-d-d-ddy." by this point, he broke off, coming to understand that perhaps he was impossible to understand. Simultaneously, his roleplayer was beginning to wonder if, for easy reading, "translations" should be added after Nico's speech.

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]Nico stared at her paws. He couldn't even see her smile, he was focused entirely on her feet, his gaze never rising, always fixated to the ground and that which was upon it. "Ni-" and then he stopped, biting down on his tongue. "-co-" again, he stopped, biting down on his tongue. Anything to keep the syllables as they were meant to be. Perhaps now she'd understand him? His tongue hurt now, of course, throbbing, and he believed he could taste metal, but it was fine. The pain was a detached kind.

Again as she spoke, he listened, tried to form an answer and speak it. "I-I-I do-on't-" not bad, Nico- "t-t-t-ta-al-lk t-t-to him-m-m m-mu-uch-ch." on second thoughts... He did let go a little, slip, mess up. He probably sounded like a freak. He'd have to try and find people with telepathy and think what he wanted to say, vow to never speak again. He probably sounded horrible.

"D-d-do-o y-y-y-ou-u ha-a-a-a-" come on, Nico!- [b]"a-ave a d-d-da-addy?"

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]"Nico" was nicer than "Nicolai Gabriel". The name was bigger than him, it seemed. It held hope and expectation, things he couldn't fulfil. "Nico" was short, simple, unimpressive. Sort of like him, it reflected him well. An outcast name. He wondered what his father had expected him to become when he'd named him... Something better, perhaps. The little blue tabby huffed, caught up in his thoughts before he realised Cecilia was speaking, and he blinked to focus on her paws as she continued.

Libby, Elizabeth, Elly. He didn't know if he knew anybody known as that... Perhaps because he didn't often talk to people. So he started to shake his head, then faltered and nodded. Make himself seem normal. "Y-y-ye-e-es-ssss." he agreed softly, readily, shuffling his own paws again. They'd probably be dirty again by the time he'd done, and he'd have to repeat his previous actions of scrubbing them in water with a leaf until they were red.

When she asked if he was okay, he nodded mutely. "I-I-I f-f-f-i-i-in-ne." he spoke, a shiver running down his body, a cold finger of dread tracing his spine. [b]"D-d-do-on-n't ta-a-al-lk-k-k m-m-mu-much."

[fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 449px; text-align: justify; font-family: times new roman;]ooc: g'night! x)

He could see her teetering on the edge. Even though he didn't know what she looked like, even though he hadn't yet seen her face or anything other than her paws, he knew she was teetering. He could tell she was struggling with this just as he was. He was awaiting the moment the excuse was made, the moment she ditched him to go back to his seemingly mindless scrubbing. He probably seemed mentally stunted, and he hated it. He hated how he was looked at, as if he was more stupid than the average child. They knew nothing of his mind. The colours that danced across his monochrome gaze.

When she asked a question of him, his usual behaviour, he shrugged. It would be a bitterly disappointing response. "I-I-I-I wa-a-ash, I... I-I-I p-p-p-pl-la-a-ay wi-ith my-y-y s-s-s-s-sto-o-one... I-I si-it-t o-on my-y o-o-own-n-n."

[ "I wash, I play with my stone, I sit on my own." ]