It took a bit for him to answer, as if he was debating whether or not to give you a straight answer. "Normaly it depend of our intent ... those of my kind who live here did start to let's say... humanize ourself to some extent we are not a good exemple of normal communication for our kind... Normaly my kind is using thelepathy in close spaces, when team hunting or in close connection, anything else would be comunicated by signal or voice. "

The creature scoff, and if you could have seen them you were preaty sure they were rooling their eyes at your first statement. " I said acknowledge, not noticed, you are not that difficult to read human, if i wanted to take you by surprise i would have done so a while ago. My kind exist beyond names but since your's still nead sutch a deffininition to understand others you can call me Nomad ..."

Oh lovely. A camera that can see if he decides to change....
Yeah let's not think about that.

Nicote frowned. "Anyone there?" He mutters. He is not a fan of being watched by seeable things or nonseeable hings.

Link: https://www.sylestia.com/forums/?thread=63832&page=545#5450 Author: Cian Time Posted: 7/25/2020 at 4:20 PM You soon notice a grid on the ground, the same exact grid that was originaly closing the opening from the ventilation system and had now fallen, revealing the metalic inside of the now gapping hole who's sides were littered with claw marks the size of your hand. A small camera was pointing directly toward your bed from the metal tube, capturing every moment of your life.

" Well, yes, the gravity isn't capable to move object any other way then downward last time i could checked..." The voice came from somwhere behind you and was followed by the sound of various items falling. " It seem like you are one of those ... why does humans like turning their areas into tripping hazard."

She didn't seemed to apreciate your reply and a loud snapping similar to the sound of a gunshoot echoed in the area. " If it's so mutch of an issue i can make sure you wont nead to eat ever again ..."

"So I've been told. I dont like extremely neat rooms. Too formal for my tastes. And this isnt a mess it's called organized chaos. The books are in the cornor and the pillows are spaced out in perfect formation for me to crash on them whenever I run out of pomogranate juicece." Nicote said like it was a perfectly normal thing to be addicted to pomogranates.

" well, oranized chaos as you say is still a masive tripping hazard ... and i am going to assume that pomogranate juice work like blood for some of us ..." He statted flatly as a young man you could only assume was him flicker into vew. He was wearing old timey cloaths that seemed very out of place with the modern world, his skin was a grayish white contrasting with his dark hairs, a black ring was running around each of his wrist and his neck. He was staring at you with pale blue, featurless eyes.