milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The door slides open, briefly revealing the interior of the UNSC heavy cruiser Spark In Darkness. A Huragok floats idly through, and the door closes. As the creature approaches the Bar a note pops up.

Well, it was only a matter of time, really. Vergil floats over the Bar, dips down behind it, and comes up with a slate and several pieces of chalk.

Hello
I am called Vergil
I am a Huragok
I understand English, but communicate in sign language
And tonight I am tending the Bar.

Specials

Pink Beaner
Pink Heart
Purple Heart
Blue Moon
Golden Glow Punch (non-alcoholic)

Enjoy!

It eyes the sign, twitters to itself in satisfaction, and floats to one side to wait for orders.

[Tinytag: Valentine's Day Plot]

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The new smells hit his nose quickly, and he gets it. Jacob's hands slide out, palms down along the woodgrain until his fingertips bump into the glasses, slowly extending up to grasp one. "Shots?"

He sniffs the first one he's grabbed, the second in line. "Fruit. Hm." He tastes the pink heart recipe, and it's pretty good, pretty sweet. What he'd have called a sissy drink when he was alive.

"I like it."

There's a prrrt noise, and Vergil takes back the other glasses in three tentacles. It will mix up a properly-sized glass of the stuff and place it in front of the human instead of the other samples.

"Do you know how to talk?" he asks, catching onto the noises not being words.

Jacob reaches a hand up to where a face should be, searching.

Vergil dips its head to come within range of the fingers. The six black eyes will close immediately if Jacob gets too close to them.

It knows how to talk perfectly well, but to its species, speech is done with movement and gesture, not with voice.

His fingertips are soft and almost shy as he explores Vergil's head, surprised at first at the almost squishy feel.

"...Just what are you?"

The gesture it makes with its tentacles, just under Jacob's forearm so that the motion can be felt, is the set of gestures its kind use to explain that something's weight balance is heavily canted towards the front- Weighted Forward. The name of its species would mean nothing, but its own individual name is... it is what it is.

"Heavy...no. Weight. Weight front?" he says, unsure. He never learned sign language, even before he went blind, but he recognizes a few gestures he's come in contact with.

It's close enough. Vergil pats the human's arm consolingly with one tentacle; he tried.

"Yeah, well. Never was real great at the whole sign language thing," he chuckles. "Jacob."

Jacob. It will remember that.

It also does its best to indicate that it can produce another drink, if the human would like.

"Think I'm good with just the one. Don't want to run into anything else," he says. "You make pretty good drinks."

^__^

Jacob won't see the expression, but he should be able to tell that that's a happy whistle in response.

That makes him smile a little, and pats the thing's tentacles, drinking from his glass again and only afterwards trying to imitate the whistle.

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