[Whatever is lurking in the youngster - a dark fae of some kind? the offspring of an Elder God? An elemental based on the fabric of time and space itself?? - remains calmly quiet, as it awaits the right moment to emerge or make itself known.]
November of 1928. I'm hazy as to the exact date. Too many days on end, at work. I have a sense we're at some point in the relative distant future, though I'm not sure Mr. H.G. Wells ever envisioned a future quite like this, unless he dabbled in the kind of novels that the bookshops tuck away under the counter. [The human face of the other blushes and he might avert his eyes slightly, modestly even.]
But I'm being rude, aren't I, rattling on like this and not introducing myself properly. I'm James Oldham-Jaquith. I'd shake your hand, but I'm still getting my head around the etiquette of this place.
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November of 1928. I'm hazy as to the exact date. Too many days on end, at work. I have a sense we're at some point in the relative distant future, though I'm not sure Mr. H.G. Wells ever envisioned a future quite like this, unless he dabbled in the kind of novels that the bookshops tuck away under the counter. [The human face of the other blushes and he might avert his eyes slightly, modestly even.]
But I'm being rude, aren't I, rattling on like this and not introducing myself properly. I'm James Oldham-Jaquith. I'd shake your hand, but I'm still getting my head around the etiquette of this place.