[Eight takes a seat at the counter, keeping his umbrella in his lap, leaning his Octobrush beside him and keeping his backpack-like ink tank on the floor by his feet. A surprising amount of Eight's current problems will be solved once he finds a good solution for carting all this around. At least it got him a painting job, even if the owner of the store wasn't happy that Eight didn't want to gum up the highly precise bristles of the inkbrush with paint. He was still fast enough to get a little extra, though he suspects he should hold onto it just in case.
That's why he's here instead of somewhere nice. He studies the menu with no small amount of confusion. None of these meals are fish and therefore he has no idea what kind of animal they could be. What's "beef?" A "pork" chop? He knows that a chicken is a bird, but is it anything like seagull meat-?
His eyes snap to the movement down the counter. He watches the altercation with the cake carefully, keeping his hand on the handle of his brush the same way one would keep their hand on a gun they weren't sure they would need to use. He watches the man leave, keeping his eyes trained on him until we was past the diner's window.
...It takes a moment for Eight to realize he's being spoken to and...he isn't sure if he's being insulted or not? He's an octopus, it's not out of the question that "slick" is some kind of comment on his species.
Ah, no, that isn't fair. That's part adrenaline, partly the fact that a minority in his own home. But...aren't both of them in the minority here? She's definitely not human either.
no subject
That's why he's here instead of somewhere nice. He studies the menu with no small amount of confusion. None of these meals are fish and therefore he has no idea what kind of animal they could be. What's "beef?" A "pork" chop? He knows that a chicken is a bird, but is it anything like seagull meat-?
His eyes snap to the movement down the counter. He watches the altercation with the cake carefully, keeping his hand on the handle of his brush the same way one would keep their hand on a gun they weren't sure they would need to use. He watches the man leave, keeping his eyes trained on him until we was past the diner's window.
...It takes a moment for Eight to realize he's being spoken to and...he isn't sure if he's being insulted or not? He's an octopus, it's not out of the question that "slick" is some kind of comment on his species.
Ah, no, that isn't fair. That's part adrenaline, partly the fact that a minority in his own home. But...aren't both of them in the minority here? She's definitely not human either.
He takes his hand off the paint brush.]
...Are you alright?