Open Finished There's something out there

When they entered the building, Maarab gave his eye time to adjust to the change in lighting, leaning against the edge of the bar, rather than taking a seat. He looked around giving the jukebox a curious look, just listening to the music for a moment.

Then he typed, "There is a lot to learn here." He stared down at his phone a little longer, finger hovering over the letters, but didn't type anything more right away, instead looking over at Umiko with a short laugh and a shrug, before continuing, "what is your apprentice learning from you."

After that, Maarab wandered over to check ot the jukebox himself. Though he was paying more attention to Umiko than the strange instrument.

Maarab stopped staring at the machine at that, walking back to the bar to let someone who knew how to work it have a chance. He stayed standing, leaning an elbow on the bar and looking down at Umiko.

He typed and erased a few times, not sending to text to speech as he attempted to figure out how to respond. Then he just shook his head. "What do you do here."

It was a wide open question. Maarab looked at his phone with a dissatisfied expression before looking back at the other man. He added, "I have not heard of that fighting style."

Maarab shook his head. That was not what he'd meant with his question, but he decided to listen rather than correct himself right away. It had been an ambiguous question after all. The drink suggestion had him laughing again. He gestured towards his mouth, opening it wide enough that Umiko could see his cut off tongue if he looked. Closing his mouth with a smirk, he typed, " I do not drink in public."

He was quiet after that, just letting Umiko speak. Though his steady gaze made it clear he was listening. How much of it he understood of it was hard to tell, his expression one of someone lost in thought. When he was ready to add more to the conversation, Maarab frowned down at his phone for a long moment, unsure what to ask. He scratched at the scar on his neck before typing. "We used shadow magic at home. What is your path for if not for fighting."

Nodding, Maarab typed, "I have been taught to fight for much the same reasons. " He broke his gaze, looking down with the back of his hand to his mouth in thought. All the tense clenching and unclenching of his hand had opened his never healed injury enough for a couple drops of blood to run along it. Maarab did not seem to notice.

It was not enough to interfere with his typing, but he was slow enough at that it was hard to tell. "Except home did not care much about self discovery as long as you did not question orders." Maarab barked out a short laugh, giving Umiko a quick searching glance and a humorless grin. He looked away after that, unable to keep a troubled look from his face.

"Dying is easy enough. You are saying your master changed you with that path." Realizing that the robotic voice made it hard to tell, Maarab added, "That was a question. I do not understand. "

That got Maarab's attention. He spoke sharply at Umiko, grin dropping, but whatever he was trying to say was unintelligible. A couple black feathers floated to the ground at his feet. Then he took a breath and actually looked at his hand. Frowning and muttering something else too garbled to understand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth bandage to wrap it with.

The familiar action was enough to calm him down. He typed by way of explanation. "I do not like more voices in my head." Maarab let it go with that. He wasn't grinning anymore, but he was too interested by this conversation to just leave.

Maarab shook his head, typing, "At home dying was just a tool, but we usually come back. Makes it hard to relate." He paused to think a moment, continuing, "What do you do with your second chance. I was born to be a weapon. Your leader sounds different. " It took him some time to type that, erasing and hesitation making it obvious the words were are struggle.