thesphererp | [video // @jackwynand56] first transmission.

[He's probably seen one grown woman in his life without scarring from Adam use; he's honestly blown away by her appearance in a purely innocent way. The same way a child might be blown away by the sight of their first firework show.

A small voice left over from his false memories reminds him to maybe keep his comments to himself, though.]

Okay.

[He's just going to find a spot to sit down and rest while he waits. He even manages to find a leftover chocolate bar in his sweater.]

[It doesn't take her long to get to the right sphere but it does take her awhile to find exactly where he's sitting. She doesn't stop talking to him but her stories and accounts are of the sphere itself and what little she knows about it. She mentions a little about the nightmares, how scary it is and that it's okay to call for help if he finds himself in them.

Her voice echoes first through the golden communicator and then in person.]

Excuse me.

[Her steps slow to a stop about a yard away from him.] Are you the person that I'm looking for? [She hadn't asked his name and she isn't sure what he looks like but she has a feeling that this is him.

Her voice is just as sweet and warm in person but there is a musical edge to it that isn't fully captured through the devices.]

[Well, he sure looks lost and new. He's wearing a waterlogged, ambiguously stained sweater that has a distinct smell of fish and rusting metal, his hair is ruffled and still clumped with blood brought along from his home world, and most interestingly he has a case of heterochromia. One brown eye, and one blue eye that might be glowing just a bit... or maybe it's just the light. The one thing she might catch that she saw in his videos are his tattoos; three linked chains on each wrist.

Jack stands up quickly and reaches as if to grab something from inside his sweater, but.. on second thought he leaves it in there. Another motion as if he's trying to decide what to do with his hands, aaand... he settles for just crossing his arms and nodding.]

Hi.

Hello.

[She closes the distance between them and kneels down in front of him. Her dress is lacy and white, clinging to her slim frame with buttons trailing down her back. Her hair is the color of wheat and falling in messy waves over her shoulders while light blue-gray eyes meet his.] How are you feeling?

[She lightly brushes his hair back to keep it out of his eyes.]

You look like you need to dry your clothes. Can I help you? I have a drier.

[He winces slightly when touched, as if fully expecting her to hit him. More than that, his face is turning steadily redder as he tries to remember how to behave in situations that aren't life-or-death.

He nods almost imperceptibly, glancing down at his clothing in an almost shameful gesture. There's really no rescuing them, but it's worth a shot.]

[She watches the way his features twitch and her heart breaks a little. What sort of world is he used too?] Come with me. I'll help. [She gently takes his hand in hers and helps him rise to his feet. Her fingers lace through his as she tries to remember where she can buy him new clothes.

He probably won't want to wear any of her dresses.]

What's your name?

[Oh.

Oh, he is! Holding hands. With a girl.

!!!!!

Angel might notice an odd quality of Jack's physiology - while he is incredibly muscular and he's currently putting actual effort into not crushing her fingers, his skin is baby soft without a trace of callouses.

He also definitely wouldn't fit in her dresses even if he wanted to - he's easily past 6 feet tall, and ripped as hell. And currently, he's in way too much shock to say anything. Maybe if he's lucky she won't notice him turning beet red.]

[She notices a few different things about Jack but she doesn't know what to make of it. She moves slowly, gently gliding him to her side and then leading him towards her room. She isn't entirely sure what she's doing but he needs her and she can't just leave him like this.]

Do you not have a name?

[He can speak... so why doesn't he?]

I don't have a name either. Oh, um... where I'm from. They don't give people names but someone here gave me a name. His name is Seregil and he calls me Inësa or you can call me something else.

[She does pause briefly and purchases a few items at a store before continuing towards her room. The bag stays looped around her arm while her hand remains constantly in contact with his. She really isn't comfortable leaving him on his own. Maybe he's sick? That might explain why his face is so red.]

What?

[He was paying attention, he swears... he might have just missed what she said over the sound of his own heartbeat.]

Jack. I'm Jack- ... yeah.

[He was going to say "Jack Wynand", but... he isn't Jack Wynand. Or is he? Does it matter? He's Jack. That's good enough for now.]

In... esa. [He stumbles over the name, pursing his lips slightly with frustration toward himself. But more importantly-] Why didn't you get a name?

Oh, well, the world where I'm from.

We have a place but we aren't given names. It's a little hard to explain but there weren't names for a lot of things. There isn't a need to define them. [Her expression softens as she glances up at him.]

You don't have to call me that. If it's hard to say.

[It's mostly what Seregil and Alec call her.]

A few people call me a few different things.

[A beat.]

I like the name Jack.

No one used my name. Back home.

[He mostly went by "boyo"... the thought of mentioning that leaves a sour taste in his mouth.]

I like my name. And hearing it.

[He hesitates. Renaming her seems so rude, especially when it feels so nice to hear his own name because it's his.]

Ines.... Inisa... mm. Ingrid. Is that.. okay?

[She gently squeezes his hand, her lips shaping into a warm smile.]

Alright, Jack. I'll make sure to use it.

[Ingrid sounds like an odd name and it doesn't sound like it belongs to her but she really doesn't care what he decides to call her. Rudy still calls her Barbra.]

Whatever you're comfortable with is fine.

Okay.

[He's not sure if he's comfortable with it, but it'll be easier to remember if nothing else.

Also, he might be dragging his heels a bit as it dawns on him that they're going into her room. She might have been a fake memory implanted in him by a psychopath, but Mama Wynand warned him vehemently about going into girls' rooms. Even if he's invited, it's... rude. And presumptuous.]

[She smiles at him and continues to guide him towards her room.

It isn't a room in the strictest sense of the word. It's more like a small apartment. Just inside the door is a living room with a small kitchen off to the side. There is a bathroom behind one door and a bedroom behind another. She shares the room but she usually sleeps on the couch and then neatly collects her things to tuck them out of sight.

She's happy to have a place to sleep and is the least picky person in the world.]

This is where I live. Please make yourself at home. I bought you a change of clothes. I hope it fits. [She pauses and for the first time since they met she looks awkward and uncertain, a light pink bush spreads over the bridge of her nose.] The bathroom is through there. If you leave your clothes there I can wash them.

Would you like tea?

Okay.

[He's still very awkward, still red around the ears, but... sure, he can do that. He takes the change of clothes, and thinks a little about the tea question. Has he had tea before? He's not sure he has.]

I like coffee.

[And he's just going to... disappear into the bathroom for a while, without an attempt at segueing. It takes him a while to even come to terms with getting his clothing off, then a while longer to get his clothes on... and a little after that wondering why she didn't buy suspenders or sock garters, before deciding he doesn't really care if he looks under-dressed. He's sure no one cares that much.

He comes out and places most of his clothes neatly folded on the couch, but.. his sweater is being held sort of like a bag, and it's now apparent that about a third of his apparent weight was actually just whatever he's been carrying in there. Is that a gun barrel peeking out?]

I'll see- [The bathroom door closes.] -what I can find.

[There isn't any coffee in the kitchen so she makes tea and hopes that it isn't the end of the world. She's met a few people in the Sphere's who are very passionate about coffee. Maybe she'll finally pick up some and keep it at the house. No one but guests or Jack will drink it but it will be good to have on hand. The tea itself is a heavy black tea that's somewhat similar to coffee.

She hopes that he likes it.

The tea and a small dish of sugar balance on a tray as she stepped over towards the small table in front of the couch.]

I didn't have coffee. I hope this is okay.

[She glances up at him and frowns.]

Is everything okay?

Mm.

[He puts the sweater down next to the rest of his clothes, and a few more random objects peek out of it while it settles. It looks like half the things Jack owns are crammed in there... how did he even get them to fit?

He finally sits on the couch, takes the tea, and chugs the cup in a single gulp. He didn't even give it time to cool down... which occurs to him slightly after drinking, when he realizes his tongue stings a bit. He's still going to silently gesture for more, though.]

It's good.

[She takes a seat on the couch and watches him with growing interest. She's never met anyone like Jack before.]

Oh. [Nope, he's drinking that without blowing on it.] It's very hot. You might want to drink it a little slower. [She pours him another cup though she doesn't fill it up all the way this time.]

What's all this?

[She points to his small collection of random objects. She has something similar though the items she caries with her fit in her jacket pocket or in her boots. Her dress doesn't have any pockets in it.]

Would you like a bag? I was going to clean your other clothes of that's alright?

It's, uh... stuff. That I needed.

[He guesses it can't all go in the washer. After some hesitation (and downing that second cup of tea just as recklessly) he starts taking things out and sorting them on the coffee table. Somehow he takes out three different guns of different sizes, a few boxes of ammo, a makeshift crossbow, a flamethrower, a polaroid camera, a fistful of candy bars, a chunky tape recorder, a monkey wrench, several glowing hypodermic needles, a few boxes of first aid supplies, a shortwave radio, and half of a hotdog wrapped in tin foil.

By the end he looks almost ashamed. But not ashamed enough to stop himself from eating that hotdog.]

[She slides a little closer to Jack's side to inspect the impressive collection of guns, ammo and knickknacks he keep on himself. How on earth does he manage to carry all of this?! She reaches forward and brushes her fingers against the edge of the camera.]

It's so much.

[The hot dog is a little surprising.] Oh, I'm sorry. Are you hungry?

[She turns to look up at him, her lips parted in a questioning expression.] I can... make you something. If you'd like.

[Fresh food? That's another thing that he's... not even sure he's ever had. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers Tenenbaum eating sandwiches at her desk, but he doesn't think she ever shared. And there was definitely never hot food in the lab.]

Yeah.

[He pauses as he tries to think of what he likes to eat. He honestly can't say he has a preference.]

Meatloaf?

[Her fingers rest lightly on his thigh as a warm smile spreads across her lips.]

If not that I should have enough for meat balls. If that's alright. I think I have everything that is needed to make spaghetti. Sorry. I'm not used to having guests. Really, you're my first guest.

[She leans forward, pours him some more tea and then takes her own mug as she rises to her feet.

At some point she'd abandoned a few layers of her attire and was now barefoot, wearing only the white dress that she often wore. She sipped at her tea as she steps towards the small corner kitchen, pulling an apron over her head before she starts pulling things out of the fridge.]

Do you mind if I ask about where you're from? I imagine it's different than what I'm used to if these are the sorts of things you have to carry with you.

[His mouth opens as if to speak, but then she touches his thigh and his brain may as well have short-circuited. Instead he lets out a hushed little sigh, and his eyes follow her in a daze as she walks away.

Oh wait. She asked a question. She wants to know about Rapture. Focus, idiot.]

It's like this place. Underwater. But it leaks. And everyone... [He furrows his brow, fighting the urge to clam up and forcing himself to say something substantial.] ...Everyone was bad. Evil. Crazy. I had to.. I needed the guns. To stay alive.

[She glances over his shoulder and notices the vacant stare for only a second before he answers her question. Maybe he is sick? Is moatloaf like meatballs but with less sauce and no noddles? She really hoped so.

A small pot warms on the stove as she tosses tomato sauce and large meatballs into a pot. The tomato sauce should keep it from burning while the meatballs heat up. She hopes it's enough.]

That doesn't sound like fun. [It's the understatement of the year.] Oh, umm... I can tell you that the people here aren't evil. I don't think you'll need guns. They might say mean things sometimes but I think it's because their scared. I don't think they want to hurt anyone.

[She doesn't expect him to believe her but she hopes that it helps.]

Um... Are you sure you're okay? You don't look well.

[It smells heavenly, if nothing else. It's so very... domestic, he almost feels like he's dreaming.]

I'm okay. [He assumes she's talking about the dark circles under his eyes, or the unhealthy pallor of his skin.] No sunlight in Rapture. And I... did some stupid things. I changed my- genetics. A lot.

[He sort of wonders how much of him is really... him. He couldn't wrap his head around all his modifications if he tried, and he wouldn't have been able to stomach reading through his documentation.]

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