Death, Destiny, and Dickishness(ongoing)

Death, Destiny, and Dickishness

Blue =Michelle

Black = Stephen

Ichiwick winced his tiny face as he cranked the handle of the strange device placed against the second-story window of the very nice-looking mansion nestled in a noble district of the city. It made a soft but high-pitched squeak as the blade cut through the glass. He fluttered his wings with the effort, trying to get leverage.

"Why do I have to be the one what does this, Ky?" came his small, light voice down into the courtyard, where a tall, fit man stood, wary and looking around the corner. "I 'ave to use both me arms and push the damn thing. You could do this in two seconds with a turn of your bloody green wrist."

"Shove it, Ichiwick," said Kyran, still keeping wary and not looking back at his tiny accomplice. "It's 'cause you can stand on the windowsill two stories up, where I'd have to hold on the whole time."

"Wha'ever," said Ichiwick, finishing the cutting with a final grunt. "It's done. Catch." The small pixie shoved the glass cutter off the windowsill, letting it fall. Kyran deftly caught it in a gloved hand, whipping it inside a pocket of his long coat. "All right, go inside and unlock the window," said Kyran.

"I'm goin', I'm goin," muttered Ichiwick, ducking through the fist-sized circular hole he just made, folding his wings down to fit through. Fluttering up, he unlatched the window and waved Kyran to come up.

While the large, green-skinned man scaled the wall to push open the window, Ichiwick looked around the room. This was the Lady's room, where her jewelry would be kept in a lockbox, ornately carved. His bright green eyes searched intently for it, locating it sitting on a dresser with a mirror. He zipped across the room to land on the top, and examined the lock, cocking his head to the side.

He bent down on one knee and picked the small lock up in both hands, shaking it and putting a long pointed ear to it. "Ah. Everlam. Got it." he said as Kyran pushed open the window and swung a leg into the room, planting his booted feet on the rich carpet.

The half-orc whistled in appreciation. "Swanky. Itchy, you get that box open while I see if there's anything else here."

"Already on it," said the pixie, delicately pushing his hand into the keyhole. A small, audible "click" was heard, and the lock popped open. "There, Ky."

Kyran walked softly over to the dresser and smiled at the assortment of gold chains and jewels in the box. "Very nice," he said, lifting them out and wrapping them in a rag, putting them in his pocket. "You work wonders as a lockpicking tool." he said.

"Yeah, and you're a great packmule," said Ichiwick, rolling his eyes. "Let's go before-"

footsteps started thudding in the hallway; several people. A female voice.

Kyran slammed the box shut and booked it for the window; Ichiwick zipped towards the open air outside.

"Oh shit."

Kyran took a leap out of the window, rolling into the courtyard as the noblewoman came into her room, catching a glimpse of him at the last second as he fell. She shouted "Guards! Seize him! Theif!" as he ran full speed towards the courtyard walls, scrambling to climb them.

"Come ON, dumbass!" came a tiny voice from the top of the wall; a frustrated Ichiwick fluttering over it. Kyran heaved himself up onto the wall just as an arrow plinked into the stone wall beside him.

His black eyes went wide. Ichiwick laughed. "Now we're in for some fun," he said as he zipped easily alongside Kyran, who was running for all his might.

An average-built human man fell from the sky. Out of nowhere - blue pants, black shirt, glasses, short brown hair. Very average. His trajectory the seemingly ironic and perfect direction that would collide into a small winged critter and a strangely green-skinned man. The gods themselves laughing at the comedic improbability of the face first dive... At this moment, Felix knew he was having a bad day.

Felix would say... he wasn't your average student goer in your oh so average college. He would explain in great detail about how little effort he liked to do. Minimal work at all times. Do no homework, pass every exam - get a C; good enough. Live a few blocks from campus to walk. No time for getting a bike, too broke for a car. Books are useless, borrow a classmates. Go to the library. Find a site. Your average college student indeed.

So why would he say as much not so average? Well you see, Felix would magnificently point out that he died. Very inconvenient, you see. It wasn't some glorious death for Valhalla or a valiant attempt at keeping Chivalry and someone else's life alive. No, it was much more simple. A driver speeding too quickly in the cacophony of a spring rain, car lights, tires squealing and the sound of someone's back snapping from the impact.

Felix was not pleased in the strange vision of a world that came to his view as the numbing of the sudden pain vanished from him. That old shadowy ghost train chugging and billowing across the landscape and ripping realities asunder with its powerful shattering of the worlds. Not that anyone saw it. Maybe it was some sort of in-between points? Not that Felix had even half a second of time to comprehend or react to the phantom machine... as it plummeted him directly into a void. Spiraling him clamorously through an area of darkness and a light. Faster. Faster. Spinning. Dizzy. The light getting brighter and brighter. Felix thought the expression of 'stay away from the light' a bit unfair at the speeds he was topping.

Yes, Felix would agree, today was not so average. Today was a bad day. A terrible chain of unlikely, unfathomable events conscribed together like a ball of hair.

...

At least someone broke his fall.

The two thieves had no time to react, and did not see the man coming. Well, who would have? He fell straight out of the sky. Ichiwick happened to glance up just in time to shout "FUCK!" and skittered out of the way, barely missing being squished by the newcomer's entrance. With a crash and a scraping of bodies on cobblestones, the slim man landed directly on top of the less-fortunate Kyran, who was sent sprawling, dropping the rag filled with jewelry into the street, the wind knocked out of him.

The tall orc coughed and gasped for air as the pixie, who landed on the cobblestones in a tiny heap of wings, scrambled to his feet, glowing brightly green in his panic. He shook his head to clear it and started scrambling towards the dropped jewels. "What in the Hells?!" came his small, irate voice.

You'd have to understand, this was an unusual predicament for the average fellow with a not so average day. How does one apologize in this situation? Sorry I fell on you after I died? Apologies my speeds weren't controllable in the black void thingy?

Priorities. Priorities. The little winged humanoid thing just spoke. That is probably a good focus.

"Ow."

Yes, his chest hurt from the land and he did a spectacular job rolling around like a ragdoll. Priorities, pain later.

"Did you just talk?"

He asked, finding his bent frames and placing them back on his head, taking a closer look at the green man, the wingy thingy, and jewelry that had scattered about. He started collecting it in a much less panicky manner than the little thing was. Better start some idle chat, make it less awkward. Try and get on their level.

"Uh... so... am I in a coma?"

Brilliant, if he was, they'd probably know.

Ichiwick was so taken aback by such a stupid question that he stopped moving, forgetting the incoming pursuit probably only a few blocks behind them. He simply stared with raised eyebrows and a totally shocked expression at this... human. "What-th- I... yes. Yes I fucking talked. What's the matter with you, roundears?"

"Well, he did just fall from the gods-damned sky," groaned Kyran, shoving himself to his feet. He noticed the newcomer had the jewels, and grabbed at them quickly with the quickness of a thief's practiced hands, snatching them away. "Thank you."

Ichiwick rose from the ground in a buzz of wings. Shouts were raising  nearby. "We better leg it, Ky. Take glassface with you," he said, eyeing the spectacles oddly.

"Right," said the big green man with a surprisingly pleasant baritone voice. "Come with us, mate," he said, pushing the skinny man forward into a run.

Felix was a little caught awry as he pointed at the chaos with one hand, looking back at the angry mob of armored, spear and bow wielding individuals. Priorities. Blame by association.

"Yeah, sure. You seem friendlier than that bunch.... I'd imagine. Leggin it."

He ran with them and couldn't help how awkwardly calm he was. Priorities priorities. Freak out time can be later.

Kyran grinned in spite of himself as the trio booked it away from the main road. He liked this odd human. Sense of humor. Good.

Ichiwick darted through the alleys, leading them on a zig-zagging course to throw off their pursuers.

Felix followed them through the maze of old-timey cobbled streets and smells that his nose had never met before. Although he had long dismissed the idea that this was some sort of LARP, (the fairy really made that a clear thing) he couldn't help thinking it.

Ichiwick ducked into a doorway of a storehouse; Kyran pressed himself against the wall as the pixie inserted his hand into the lock and opened the door for the two men.

Felix watched as the fairy made quick work of the lock with his arm. Neat. Very handy. ...ha.

Kyran shoved the man through the door and slammed it shut behind them, putting a gloved finger to his lips, his bottom teeth protruding like tusks in a "shh!"

He waited with an ear to the door and listened for a few moments. A shouting and a clanking came round the corner as the guards in their armoured uniforms raced past their hiding place. After several more minutes had gone by without incident, he sighed. "All right, they're gone. You can come out now, Ichiwick."

Ichiwick, who had somehow disappeared, popped suddenly back into view sitting on a barrel.

Felix breathed. They seemed safe now. The fairy made that apparent as well. Priorities shifting

Ichiwick cocked his head, staring at the man. "All right. Who are you, skyfaller? I ain't never seen someone without wings appear outta the sky like that."

Felix doubleshifted. "Wait, first I need to mark my bearings." He adjusted his glasses and smirked with a soft laugh. "Skyfaller. Nice. So, what are you guys? What time am I? What is this world?"

They both stared at him blankly, Kyran with glittering black eyes, Ichiwick with bright green. "What the blazes are you on about, glassface?" asked the pixie, raising an eyebrow. He turned to Kyran. "Think he's a wizard student, maybe?" Kyran shrugged.

"You aren't a wizard, are you, mate?" he asked, scratching his immaculately trimmed black goatee.

Didn't answer his questions. Actually more questions, now. Wizards. Implied magic. Magic is real? was it common? The floaty fairy thing.. implied a lot.

"Uh, no. At least not your implied image of it. I think. Maybe." Felix tried to think about it. "So... I guess I'll make assumptions, then. Orc and fairy?"

This time it was Kyran's turn to raise an eyebrow. He folded his arms across his chest. "Half," he said pointedly.

Ichiwick was more talkative. "Pixie, specifically," he said, rolling his eyes. "'Fairy' implies I could be anythin' under the blasted fae sun. Damn, you really haven't the foggiest idea of anything, do you? Otherwise you'd know the difference between those and also an orc and a half orc."

"Weird..." Felix drifted off, then suddenly exclaimed, "but fascinating! Those words translate perfectly well... minus some difference of variation of the situation- no matter. Language barrier seems there - yet either you speak English or we are somehow able to understand each other. Why, I wonder? So a pixie and a half-orc... what do you call my species?" he ranted with an odd glimmer of intrigue to everything.

"Wha' is this? Sphinx's riddles? You're a fucking human. At least you look bloody like one, roundears," said Ichiwick, amused.

Kyran chuckled. "Who are you, mate?" he looked him up and down, taking in his odd clothes. "Where are you from that you have to ask such inane questions?" he asked, smiling slightly.

Again, another phrase that translated well. Sphinx riddle. Even the implied meaning. "Human. Yes I am. Even my world uses that word. Which I am pretty sure I died in... one step led to another and here I am, falling on you." He motioned at them. "Ah. Yes. My name is Felix." He nodded.

They blinked.

"You... you're dead?" asked the pixie.

Kyran snorted. "You certainly don't smell like it." He grinned, his tusks exposing again. "I'm Kyran. Kyran Goeble. That's Itchy."

The pixie shot him a look, his wings jerking in exasperation. "Ichiwick. Ichiwick Boffledin."

"Oh, yeah, quite alive... at least, I still ache from that fall." He rolled his shoulder and took off his glasses to inspect them. "Hello Kyran. Itchick" He nodded to both, grinning.

"Ich-i-wick," stated the exasperated pixie, pointing down with a tiny finger to emphasize the syllables. Kyran laughed. "It would be my luck I got smashed by a dead guy from... somewhere. some plane or other." He took off his gloves, exposing green hands with short claws where the fingernails should have been.

"Heh. Must be ridiculous for you, eh?" asked Ichiwick. "What are you goin' to do now that you've managed to give Death a stab in the arse?"

"I wish I knew which way I stabbed him, so I might get some answers as to how I got here." Felix shrugged and mentally noted the claws. "But I do realize a couple of things. You two are those who can... acquire certain goods, and get away from a botch. Friendly enough to let me fall on you and take me with you, despite how..." he pauses to take a look at himself, glancing back at them, "...foreign I look."

"I digress. What I am saying is I am lost and not without my own sin. Let's say these activities are not my first rodeo, cowboy. and..." stared at the pixie. "You're male, right?" He grinned.

"Eh, I dunno," said Ichiwick, looking down at himself in mock confusion. "Are you?" he said, folding his arms and twitching his gossamer wings in indignance. Kyran snorted.

"Haha! who knows, now?" he laughed and gave himself a groin check. "Ah, still present. We are all good."

"Also, you mentioned a plane. How do you mean? You guys have airplanes?" he asked.

"Air plane? The plane of air? yeah...plane as in, uh, dimension, I think. It's a wizard word," said Kyran. "Well, mate, I don't know what a cowboy rodeo is, but, see, we are friendly. Very friendly," the big half-oc continued in that surprisingly smooth, pleasant voice. "But you can't just up and join our -erm- esteemed company by falling out of the sky. We need qualifications. So, what do you do, Felix?"

"Odd that rodeo doesn't translate. Too modern?" asked Felix to himself as he hummed and walked around the room. Qualifications. Qualifications. What could he bring to the table that they would be impressed with? He snapped his fingers with a lightbulb of an idea.

"Well, let's ignore that I am bright despite my... non-native handicap and that I know the talk of vagueness," he said regarding his previous feats. "I can make some interesting things... if you are willing to take a venture with your recent bounty." He smiled and bowed.

At this, Ichiwick and Kyran glanced at each other and frowned. "Look, Felix," said Kyran, "If we're going to invest in something, we'd like to know what we're paying for."

Ichiwick chuckled. "Ya. Believe you us, mate, we've pulled off more than our fair share of vague 'investment opportunities' on those blighters stupid enough to part with their money. So," he flew off the barrel with a whirring of wings, darting to hover mere inches from Felix's face. "What exactly do you do, roundears? Specifics, if you please."

This close, his tiny face was very visible in an expression of suspicion, and two slender antennae, thin as the finest thread, could be seen protruding from his short, spiky brown hair.

Felix laughed. "Smart." He clapped his hands as the pixie Ichiwick flew close to his face. He adjusted his glasses to get a better view. "But unlike any 'investment' I ask you to get me materials... and seeing common differences, should be cheap."

He paused. "Hmm. Does 'Alchemist' translate well?"

Ichiwick eyes him sideways. "You are an odd one, glassface. An Alchemist but from a different world? What exactly is your speciality?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Felix gave him a wide grin. "Physics, astrophysics, chemistry, biology, mechanical, electronical, math, engineering..." he paused and mused. "I was very bored and it was free... so... everything science, minus the theory crap."

Ichiwick fluttered back to stand on Kyran's broad shoulder. "Well, you certainly sound like one," he snorted, an odd sound from such a small voice.

"Hmm. Well, we'll give you a try as long as we see results, Felix," said Kyran thoughtfully. Ichiwick gave him a look. "What?" asked Kyran. "Alchemy from a different world? Worth looking into for enterprising individuals such as ourselves. Besides, it's not like he has anywhere else to go," he said pointedly with that toothy smile.

Felix smiled. "Then it is a deal." He clapped. "Let me write down the items I need," He stopped, thinking. "Hmm."

He knelt on the dusty floor and wrote out the word 'science' and looked at the two.  "Does written language translate?"

The half-orc peered down at the dusty floor, the pixie leaning over his shoulder to get a closer look. Ichiwick raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I'm guessing not."

"Yeah, that looks elvish-like to me, mate," said Kyran, thumbing his goatee. "Letters are all round. Here, what did you write?"

"Science." Felix frowned and drummed his fingers on his lip. He played around with some more styles but to no avail.

"Strange how that works. Maybe magic is how we are talking... such a strange thing."

Kyran laughed, a deep sound. "Probably. My guess is death has a sense of humor. Here," he said, scrawling what looked like blocky, strange, rune-like letters in the dirt with a claw. "That says 'science.'"

"Tch. Looks Mandarin," Felix commented as he stared at Kyran's scrawl. It wasn't Mandarin at all, but it was the closest thing he could think to describe it.

Ichiwick shook his head in amusement. "What's death like then, Felix?"

"Death? Death was...fast. Yet you knew time moved faster than you perceived. Like the world was spinning faster than the blink of an eye," he mused and brushed dirt off his jeans. "And death is dark. Very dark. I don't know if you know what a train is, but that might be the reason I cheated it... and landed on you."

"A train? Like a caravan train? What in all the hells..." Kyran asked, chuckling wryly. "I know more than a few priests who will be unhappy with that."

Ichiwick snorted again. "No kiddin'! All hail the mighty train god!" He bent over, laughing hysterically, one hand on his knees and the other grabbing Kyran's pointed green ear like a railing. Kyran made a face and flicked him off his shoulder, sending the laughing fairy flying.

Felix blinked and watched the flick. Durable little creatures. He shrugged. "Should have known this world had crazy religion as well. Oh well. So. I'll explain the ingredients. I need very thin paper, or cloth. Thinnest you can get. I need saltpeter. And I need charcoal. Also, I think you'll like some oil of vitriol, so I need a flask with water in it... and some fire starters."

Kyran made a suspicious and confused face. "Fire starters? What kind? Your basic flint and steel or something fancier like a flicker?"

"Don't know what a flicker is, but it sounds like a lighter... so that," Felix astutely responded. "Then a metal plate. Some vials. Rubber tube... and some sticks."

Kyran held up a finger and fished around in the deep pockets of his long leather coat. He pulled out a thin, black, carved stone cylinder about the width of a particularly thick pencil. "Don't know what rubber is, but this is a flicker. This what you need?"

"Eh? Rubber is a mystery word? hm." he mused and pondered. "A copper tube would do." Felix approached Kyran, looking at the object in his hand. "How does it work?"

Kyran deftly tossed it spinning in the air and caught it with quick fingers. "It's only a basic enchantment. You just need to focus a bit of will through it and..." he held it up with an end facing Felix. The circular butt of it now glowed a dull red. "It ain't hot, but next thing it touches will light if it's flammable, even if it's damp." He grinned. "I use it to light my pipe."

Felix looked at it with fascination. Here was an example of magic. If these guys had it, meant magic was commonplace. That would be intriguing. "How does it know it is flammable?"

Kyran shrugged. "I dunno. I didn't make the thing. I just -erm- acquired it. though they're pretty commonplace. You want to talk to the enchanter maybe?"

"Maybe. Sounds expensive." He murmured and drummed his chin. "How long do we need to lay low?"

"Oh, we can leave now," chirped Ichiwick. "We need to pawn our profits, first."

Kyran nodded once. "Yes. You'd... you'd better stay close, Felix. And probably don't open your mouth. We're going to a not-so-nice part of town. Actually," he said, eyeing Felix's odd clothes. "we might want to get you something less... conspicuous."

Felix looked down at his clothes and back up at them. He nodded. Priorities. "Yes, I would say the same to you... minus being green and a pixie... those don't exist in my world." He pulled at his shirt. "This is normal my world wear."

"Besides!" He grins and pulls off his shirt. His skin was white, thin, and pale... but it looked like he ran and exercised. "My clothing has foreign elven written on it. A craft of high and mysterious quality." He shows them a tag.

The half-orc burst out laughing. "Oh, you'll do just fine. I like it!" he pushed his bangs back from his face. "But you can keep that on for now. We don't have extra clothes on us. I have some at home, though I doubt they'll fit."

"Since when has not having something been a problem?" piped in Ichiwick.

Felix grinned and put his a shirt back on. "I don't have many things... but if I am successful I might have a few things. And if we play our cards right, this investment of yours might just be your charitable knowledge of everything."

"You may be right, skyfaller," said Ichiwick as Kyran pushed open the door, letting in the sunlight.

They made their way to a seedier area of the town, the streets and alleyways getting narrower and dirtier as they progressed.  They came to a dingy-looking pawn shop, stating in rusty red, peeling letters (unrecognizable to Felix)  "Mr. Beetle's Oddments"

Kyran pushed open the door, which squeaked on scraping hinges. A little dented bell tinkled as the door opened.

A wizened-looking, old, extraordinarily short and skinny fellow sat behind a counter. A large, dark-skinned, and muscle-adorned man standing behind him, his shaven head ducked to avoid the low ceiling.

"Ah! Mister Beetle!" said Kyran, opening his arms in greeting.

"Goeble," grunted Mr. Beetle in a thin, reedy voice. He adjusted a strand of greasy, white, straggly hair behind an ear. His beard waggled as he talked. "What've you and Butterfly got for me this time? Better not be expectin' much. I'm taking a cut out of what you owe me."

'What?" asked Kyran smoothly. "That was a misunderstanding. How was I to know that pendant had an enchantment on it that could be tracked? That family had a personal wizard. Not many have those. The odds are against it, you have to admit."

"No, Greenskin. I had my place searched by the guards, thanks to you. I lost some merchandise. So I'm taking 50% of whatever it is you're bringing me. And who is this?" he asked, turning a piercing brown gaze on Felix. "What rabble are you bringing in here, now, Goeble?"

Felix took a look at the knick knacks and little things adorned around the shop. Seemingly more interested in ignoring the conversation and looking around. It reminded him of a pawn shop. From the sounds of it, probably hit the nail on the head.

When put to the spot light he darted his eyes back into the conversation as if he hadn't been giving it any heed. "Excusez-moi. Vous me parlez monsieur?"

He didn't know what Elvish sounded like. But if it was a language made up by pansies and tree hugger... French would be close enough. Besides. Priorities. He looked foreign. Might as well speak foreign.... to everyone.

"Yes, I'm talking to you. Don't touch the merchandise, lightfingers." He turned a bushy-browed frown on Kyran, raising a finger, motioning with the quill pen. "Who is that, Goebles? His accent is weird. He from up north?" Mr. Beetle asked suspiciously.

Kyran smiled, silky as butter. "You could say that. He won't pinch anything, I promise. Now,  think you should see the merchandise, and we can haggle out a percentage and a price." He fished the rag with the jewels in it out of an inner pocket and rolled it out on the desk with a flair. Beetle ignored him and began inspecting the shiny jewelry. Ichiwick flew down to the table to hand him particularly nice-looking pieces, some pendants as big as his tiny head.

"Peut-re que si je dis tout ce que je narriate Ils obtiendront vraiment confus." Felix wandered about and mumbled as they spoke. He wasn't touching anything but he was leaning really close to things to maybe take concentration off his new found buddies.

They all four stared at him, unmoving. "Narrating what you say will confuse us?" Mr. Beetle's head quickly jerked to Ichiwick, who was about eye level, standing on a book on the desk. "Is he mad? Get him out!"

"No, no, he's harmless," said Ichiwick, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, he's prone to wander off. Rather not go chasing him again." Kyran sent Felix an odd look while Mr. Beetle was distracted talking to Ichiwick.

Felix made humming noises that could have been words, but instead resided speaking in his own head. His face turned away to not show the irritation.

Kyran slowly turned his black-eyed gaze back to Mr. Beetle. The three haggled a bit over a price and eventually came to an "agreement," if it could be called that from the slump of Kyran's shoulders. He sighed exasperatedly and started out the door.

"Pleasure, as always, mister Beetle," he said, saluting him with a flick of two fingers tapped to his forehead."

"Bah! Get your madman and your fluttery bit out of my shop," said the grumpy old man, shooing them out. The door banged shut behind them.

"Well," said Ichiwick, "That could have gone better."

"Could also have gone worse," said the half-orc. "What in  the hells were you doing, human?"

Felix frowned and tapped his lips as he left the shop. "Je aurais dsavoir mieux. Etwas automatisch meine Worte zu dern. Es muy frustrante. Tiiji sii mi jii." He literally made up the last language while thinking 'I wonder if it lets me make it up?'

"You sure, roundears? Your accent changes up but you're still speaking plain as day. Something translates your words no matter what you're saying?" asked Ichiwick, crossing his arms.

"Do you guys know another language?" Felix mimicked the crossed arms and leaned against a wall, frowning.

"Yeah, why?" said Ichiwick. Kyran nodded.

"I'd like you to speak it." Felix said, now interested in learning the capabilities of his art.

Ichiwick frowned, then shrugged. "Ithara, da sho athasni forthashu Essylvawyn, ithozha."

[I mean, if you want me to speak Sylvan, I can.]

Kyran shook his head. "Assylvauchkn." he chuckled. "dak ba Guvakkalassadul Umguruk."

[Sylvan. what a slushy-mouthed language.]

Felix hears them both speak and hears the changes of accent. At first he thought they might be pulling his leg, but the pixie would have balked at the half orc for insulting his language. Meaning... maybe accents matter. He mimicked. "I mean, if you want me to speak Sylvan, I can." He mimicked Ichiwick's bright, breathy accent. Turned to Kyran. "Sylvan. What a slushy mouthed language." Mimicked the guttural, deep other accent.

"Hey!" said Ichiwick irate. He flew in close to Felix, angrily putting his tiny palms against the lenses of his glasses. "It's better than that coughing fit he calls a language!" he said, jerking one arm to point at a laughing Kyran.