no shirt, no 'choos, no service

All of the below is original fiction, but i have popped them into character categories~

Veronica (Ronnie) Hagin (F)

- What The Doctor Ordered

Summary: A nurse is suffering from allergies at work. She's lucky her doctor boyfriend is on hand to assist.

Ren Caville (M)

Soren & Elyx (M)

- Worlds Collide

Summary: Having settled onto a new planet and befriending one of Eos-9's native constructs, Soren finds himself caught up in helping the Echo explore and navigate human reflexes for the first time.

- Sneezy Friendship

Summary: Having moved to the city from a countryside farm, Ren is out on his own for the first time. Not only is his hometown warmer and safer, but he has always been surrounded by people. Now alone, he comes down with a terrible cold while on shift at the local bar. His supervisor, a not-so-unattractive singleton, takes it upon himself to be the one to offer Ren the care and companionship he desperately needs.

- Of Colds and Broken Hearts (in progress)

Part 1 - Part 2

Summary: After getting dumped, Ren goes to drown his sorrows in a local bar, his sour mood made even worse by his incoming cold. Intending on spending the evening alone in solitary bitterness, Ren wasn't expecting to enjoy the company of another as much as he does. Especially when he is shown a bit of unexpected care and kindness.

Rocco Kaczorowski (M)

- What Works For You

Summary: An art exhibition which has been on the horizon for a long time is finally here; unfortunately, the artist has come down with a terrible cold. He needs to think of ways to be able to attend, lest he blow his one shot forever.

Tybalt Vansson (M)

- Whiteout (in progress)

Part 1

Summary: a trained marksman catches a cold while on a mission stationed out in the snowy, mountainous wastelands.

Raphael (Rafe) Gentry (M)

- World on Fire (in progress)

Part 1

Summary: A journalist is plagued by fever-dreams whenever he comes down with something. His entire life, he thought they were just that - fever dreams. But events unfold and he discovers that they're not just dreams - they're prophecies. Word travels fast, and an agency soon discovers his abilities, concocting something creative that will mean he is beneficial to them... for better or for worse.

When humanity arrived on Eos-9 three months prior, it was assumed to be a barren planet. More than ten years of research while aboard the ship that brought them here and years prior to that of Earth-bound research had indicated no sustainable life was present here. Aside from the unusual vegetation, there didn't appear to be another living thing. Technically, that much was still true. 

A team of survey corps had been deployed to investigate the area shortly after arrival, an excursion which had stretched on for several days. Whether one was to believe in fate, or whether it was sheer coincidence, one of the surveyors had lost their footing and fallen down an approximation of a rabbit-hole, uncovering some of Eos-9's ever-expanding curiosities. Arguably, its greatest one.

Beneath the ground were what appeared to be tunnels lined with dormant mechanisms nestled within an approximation of a civilisation. It appeared abandoned upon first inspection, but it was only a matter of time before humanity discovered that they were not as alone as they first appeared to be. 

Within the mechanisms resided constructs of the planet, of which the colonists had dubbed the ‘Echoes’. They were dutifully named as such due to when first contact occurred, they were nothing more than voices without a physical presence, like echoes of the planet.

No one knew who, or what, had made them. The first survey teams had found empty cities half-buried beneath silver dunes, full of silent machines waiting patiently in dormant halls.

Then the machines woke. 

They spoke human languages before the colonists taught them. They already knew Earth history. They knew Shakespeare and Seoul street maps and old Brazilian soap operas and the exact composition of atmospheric carbon in 2091. 

They had, apparently, been watching humanity for a very long time.

Humanity was initially seen as an intruder, a dangerous threat to the planet's delicate ecosystem in which the Echoes had spent millennia protecting. Eviction was attempted, followed by pleading, bargaining, and finally, acceptance. The Echoes permitted humanity to remain on Eos-9 on the premise that they would work together to upkeep the safety and efficiency of the planet, to respect it and not to exploit it. Naturally, no one had argued.

That had been several weeks prior.

Now, the Echoes walked alongside humanity wearing approximations of human bodies.

“I'm just saying,” Soren was explaining as he shrugged to his companion. “One of the things I miss most about Earth are the cigarettes.” 

Soren lay back against a warm black stone, jacket bundled beneath his head, staring straight up at the sky. Elyx was sitting upright beside him, motionless except for the faint turning of his head between the stars and the lights of the colony domes. 

There was a stretch of silence that passed before a voice spoke beside Soren, much deeper and more monotonous than his own, almost ethereal. 

“Humans would ingest carcinogenic material into their respiratory systems?” Another thoughtful pause, followed by, “On purpose?” 

The voice next to him belonged to one of Soren's closest friends planet-side, Elyx - an Echo.

Some of the Echoes looked nearly perfect, practically human. Others were… off.

Elyx belonged firmly in the second category.

His limbs were a fraction too long. His fingers bent with unsettling smoothness. His face was handsome in the way sculptures were handsome - technically correct, emotionally strange. His smile arrived a second or two too late sometimes, as if triggered by internal processing rather than instinct.

But Soren liked him anyway. Maybe because he was the only real friend Soren had made since arriving on this planet. Or maybe because Elyx never treated him like he was disappointing.

Most people over fifty looked at Soren’s generation with quiet resentment. They were the children born during the Collapse Years, after the oceanline evacuations had begun, after Earth stopped pretending recovery was possible. They inherited smoke-choked skies and ration riots and departure lotteries.

Then, they inherited exile.

But Elyx listened to Soren talk about Earth like it was important. Like it had mattered. 

“Well, yeah, I guess so,” Soren continued in response to Elyx's question. Questions… There were always questions, so many of them. The Echo's fascination with humanity was neverending, and honestly endearing. 

“That would appear to be irresponsible,” Elyx concluded, staring at Soren thoughtfully. 

“No, no, you don't understand,” Soren was trying to explain. Or justify. Perhaps both. “That first drag of a cigarette on a cold winter morning with a cup of fresh coffee just hits different.” 

“You were correct in your estimation,” Elyx confirmed. “I do not understand.” 

Silence settled between them after that. Not awkward, exactly, just… considering. Soren could have tried to explain the simple pleasure of cigarettes despite their detrimental effects to Elyx, but memories of life back on Earth always made him somber. 

The two of them watched the twin moons for a few moments in companionable quiet, the only sounds being the faint ruffle of grass in the gentle breeze and the soft hum of colony life below them. Until a sound (or two) pierced the quiet between them. 

“hh.. h'ITSCH!.. H'TSCSH-!..” 

The sounds were sudden, sharp, leaving Soren sniffling a little after, rubbing the back of his wrist against the underside of his nose to rid it of any residual irritation. 

“..Soren?” 

The voice came unexpectedly, a note of uncertainty woven behind it. Shifting his fingers for a quick pinch-rub around his nostrils, Soren settled back against his makeshift rock-pillow. 

“Yeah?” he asked without looking over. He didn’t need to glance across to know that Elyx was staring at him, able to feel the pressure of the Echo’s silver irises boring into him. 

“What was that?” the construct asked, shifting across to close the space between them. Their knees were almost pressed together. 

“What was what?” Soren asked, tilting his head to listen, as though what Elyx was referencing was coming from elsewhere. When he heard nothing suspicious, realisation settled in, his head rolling to the side curiously. “You mean me?” 

“Yes,” Elyx replied, his gaze honed acutely onto Soren now, caught somewhere between fascinated and horrified . “You expelled air at high velocity accompanied by involuntary muscular contraction.” 

“I just sneezed,” he snorted casually, as though that would answer all of Elyx's questions. Naturally, it did not. If anything, it only heightened the Echo’s curiosity. Soren could practically hear the dozens of follow-up questions buzzing around the Echo’s mind. 

“Sneezed?” Elyx asked as though trying out the unfamilar word for the first time, eyes narrowing in suspicion as they locked onto Soren. “Are you compromised?”

“What? No.” Soren said as his head snapped to the side, sounding offended, his features narrowing a little. A stretch of considering silence passed before Elyx piped up again. 

“Did it hurt?” The question was laden with slight concern, which made Soren roll his eyes fondly. 

“No, it didn’t hurt,” he reassured, glancing across at Elyx as a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Haven't you seen someone sneeze before?” 

“Not this close in proximity,” Elyx offered honestly. Then, unexpectedly, “Can you do it again?” 

“Again?” Soren repeated, baffled, as though he wasn't quite understanding the question. His next words came out sharp with disbelief. “No, I can't do it again.” 

“Why not?” 

Sighing softly, Soren realised that this was just another part of humanity that he would need to educate Elyx on. For as much as the Echoes appeared to have studied humanity, they seemed to have skimmed over the minor details. Elyx had apparently been tardy for the lesson on bodily reflexes. 

“It doesn't work like that,” Soren started to explain patiently, hands motioning for emphasis. “It just… happens. You can't control it. Like, your body just does it, y'know?” 

The blank look on Elyx's face told Soren that he did not know. 

“Why did it happen?” 

Soren couldn't help the slight smile and huff of amusement at the question. Elyx's fascination and curiosity really did make him endearing, his intimidating aesthetic belying his naivety. 

“Something just irritated my nose, I guess,” Soren shrugged. “Making me sneeze is my body’s way of getting it out.” 

Elyx appeared extremely intrigued by the explanation, his fascination growing stronger by the minute. “Your respiratory system forces a violent expulsion response to microscopic intrusion?

Soren balked. “Uh, yeah? I guess so. But when you say it like that, it sounds terrible."

“It sounds extraordinary.” 

“Does it?” Soren asked. “It isn’t really.”

“I would like to experience it.” Soren took a second to pause, staring at Elyx blankly.

“You want to sneeze?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yes,” came the flat, stoic reply, as if Soren was asking something obvious. 

“Are you even able to?” Soren wondered aloud. It wasn’t like Elyx was exactly human, after all. And Echo physiology wasn't exactly Soren's forte. He doubted it was anyone's.

“I believe it is worth attempting.” 

“Okay, but,” Soren started, in quiet disbelief that this conversation was even happening. “It’s not something you can just decide to do. Sneezing just… happens naturally.” 

“It has not happened to me,” Elyx informed him, shuffling closer and closer until they were practically shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“Case in point,” Soren sighed. “If it hasn’t happened yet, it probably isn’t going to.” 

“Humans induce sneezing sometimes,” Elyx supplied casually. Soren froze, almost toppling over, despite being sitting. 

“How could you possibly know that?” he asked, stunned. 

“I have consumed sixteen million hours of human media.” Elyx said it as though it was the most casual, natural thing he could have done. “There are archives involving pepper and feathers, although the results are often inconsistent.” 

“You’re serious about this,” Soren stated, amusement creeping into his tone. 

“Yes,” Elyx confirmed, pausing briefly as he scanned back through the Earth archives he had committed to memory, before continuing. “There is also photonic stimulation triggered by direct sunlight.” 

“You’ve done your homework,” Soren quipped, sounding almost impressed. “But yeah, that one’s real. Happens to a lot of people.” 

“Excellent.” 

Before Soren could protest, Elyx had turned towards both moons, head tilted back as he gazed directly up towards them. They both waited for a stretch of seconds while nothing happened, until Elyx sighed and turned back towards Soren with a look of sheer disappointment on his face. 

“That does not appear to function correctly.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Soren huffed, unable to stop the smile that was spreading across his lips. Elyx was so serious about this that it was impossible not to held at least some element of comedic value. “You do realise that reflex isn’t universal, right? Not to mention you just looked at the moon.” 

The blank stare he received indicated that Elyx had not, in fact, realised that. 

“Do my receptors lack the required sensitivity to trigger such a phenomenon?” The question was delivered with such deadpan sincerity that Soren couldn’t help but audibly laugh. 

“I mean, maybe? I’m not an expert on Echo physiology.” A beat of thoughtful consideration passed. “But there may be other methods.”

Elyx narrowed his eyes. 

“I do not understand why you are smiling when you say that.” 

“Because this is actually kinda funny.” 

“Explain.” 

“You’re an alien trying to get yourself to sneeze like a human for the first time.” 

“I’m not an alien,” Elyx sulked. “You are.” 

Soren opened his mouth to respond but closed it almost instantly. Honestly, there wasn’t really any coming back from that one. Elyx was right; he was the alien here. Humans were the aliens on Eos-9. Which was actually pretty strange to think about. Although perhaps no stranger than trying to get an incorporeal being to sneeze while being corporeal. That was certainly high up on the list of oddities. 

“I need you to assist me.” Elyx shuffled across the rock, crouching down just in front of Soren with a look of pure enthusiasm that softened his features just enough to make him seem almost human. Almost. Soren was gently taken aback for a moment, looking into the steel-silver gaze of the Echo before him. 

“Please.” 

The word came out much softer than either of them had anticipated. And that was Soren’s real problem with Elyx. Not the uncanny proportions. Not the mechanical precision. Not even the impossible ancient intelligence behind those silver eyes. It was moments like this, moments where Elyx sounded young, curious, hopeful. Like someone discovering existence for the first time. And, in a roundabout sort of way, he kind of was. 

“Fine.” Soren sighed dramatically, unable to resist most anything Elyx asked of him. And this felt oddly intimate in a way that Soren couldn’t really describe. Though he did hasten to add, “But if this goes dramatically wrong and you end up imploding or something then I’m not being held liable. And I’m definitely not explaining this to the rest of the colony.” 

“Your terms are agreeable,” Elyx lilted, a soft, gentle smile barely beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth.

With a firm nod, Soren began glancing around, unable to quite believe that his current thoughts were occupied with varying ways of getting Elyx to sneeze. Had anyone told him that this would be his life on this new planet, he would have probably launched himself into the nearest wormhole. 

“I dunno, dust maybe?” he suggested, not really finding much else that would be of any use. Elyx responded without hesitation, scooping up a handful of fine, silty sand from around the rock base, lifting it up to his face before Soren could stop him. 

“Wait, not that much-”

But it was too late. Elyx had already drawn in a huge breath through his nose, sniffing back a large portion of the sand in the process. It made him cough, the sounds dry and tight, causing him to drop the sand back to the floor with a sound of utter contempt. Soren could only blink in wide-eyed disbelief, waiting to see if anything else happened. 

“You can cough?” he asked, startled. It took Elyx a moment or two to regain composure before he glanced back at Soren with glistening eyes. 

“Apparently.” 

“Well, I guess that’s a good sign?” 

“What made you deduce that conclusion?” 

“If you can cough, then that means you can probably do other reflexes, right? Which means you can probably sneeze. We just... haven’t found a way to make it happen yet.” 

Elyx was quiet, thoughtful, though there was a glint of hopefulness in his expression that Soren found impossible to disappoint.

“Okay, we can try something else,” Soren said, now on a mission to get Elyx to sneeze. No matter what it took. 

The ‘something else’ turned out to be just Soren attempting to physically irritate Elyx’s nose externally. He was kneeling in front of the Echo, the non-human details impossible to ignore at such close proximity. 

The faint metallic sheen beneath synthetic skin; the perfect stillness between movements. Barely noticeable traits that were usually missed, now glaringly obvious as Soren continued his mission.

Two fingers lightly pinched the bridge of Elyx's nose, occasionally wriggling or rubbing in an attempt to stimulate any kind of reaction. 

“Anything?” he asked, almost hopeful, as he gave the Echo’s nose another wriggle before very gently flicking the tip. Elyx just blinked, going still for a moment as though internally analysing, before sighing heavily. 

“No,” he said glumly. “Nothing.” 

Soren wrinkled his own nose in demonstration. “There’s usually, like, a tickle.”

“A tickle,” Elyx repeated, as though speaking the words aloud would commit it to memory. 

“Yeah. It’s a weird feeling, kinda makes your face all twitchy.”

“My face does not twitch involuntarily.” Elyx straightened a little as he said it. An eye roll came from Soren. 

Though he continued, now adamant for this task not to defeat him, rubbing higher, fingers moving side to side over the narrow bridge of Elyx’s nose. Still nothing. Elyx watched him intently the entire time, silver eyes unblinking.

“Y'know, that’s really unsettling,” Soren muttered, eyes flicking down occasionally but refusing to meet his gaze. 

“You are concentrating.”

“Most people close their eyes when someone’s this close.” Another gentle wriggle. “Or at least look down.” 

“I enjoy observing you.” The delivery was so deadpan, so genuine, that Soren nearly slipped off the rock. Elyx tilted his head. “Was that statement inappropriate?”

“No,” Soren said a mite too quickly, a faint heat rising to his cheeks. “Just— distracting.”

“Oh,” Elyx said quietly, before adding, mostly to himself, “Interesting.”

Soren scowled, still just inches away from Elyx’s face. “That wasn’t an invitation to analyse it.”

“It is difficult not to.” 

Soren groaned. “You are impossible.”

“Continue the nose manipulation.”

“Can you not word everything so weirdly?” Soren blurted, almost flustered. 

Still, he tried again.

Pinching. Rubbing. Gliding a finger from the bridge to the tip. 

Nothing.

No twitch, no reaction. No sneeze.

“Okay,” Soren said finally, sitting back. “Maybe your body just can’t do it.”

Elyx looked sincerely disappointed, slumping a little. 

“But the reflex exists in your species.”

“It does,” Soren agreed, before adding, “But you don’t have a species.”

It came out a little harsher than Soren intended, a trickle of guilt running down his spine as he watched Elyx ruffle a little. 

“That feels philosophically incorrect.”

“You know what I mean,” Soren was quick to correct. Technically, Elyx did have a species, but not one with a physical form. The being currently kneeling before him was constructed manually after rigorous study of the human system. A replica, so to speak. No one really knew just how accurate Echoes were to human physiology. 

Elyx went quiet for a moment, gaze drifting toward the distant colony lights.

Then, softer: “I would still like to understand it.”

Something twisted in Soren’s chest at the candid vulnerability in the Echo's tone. Elyx approached every human experience like a starving man discovering food. Laughter; music; warmth; touch.

Now sneezing, apparently.

“Okay,” Soren said, motivation restored. “We’re not giving up yet.”

Elyx straightened immediately, hopeful. “Excellent.”

“Don’t look so excited,” he warned as he sat back on his haunches a little.

“I am excited.”

Soren laughed softly despite himself, shaking his head as he glanced around them, considering his options. 

“Right,” he concluded, standing abruptly before his eyes settled on Elyx, glinting with confident mischief in the moonlight. “Last attempt.” 

Elyx stood too, towering over Soren slightly, his trust in the human almost palpable between them. 

The strange, turquoise grasses around them swayed in the breeze blowing across from the ridges. Long filaments sprouted upwards around the edges of the rock, thin as wire and surprisingly soft. Soren plucked one from the ground, studying it thoughtfully as he twirled it between his fingers. Elyx watched with rapt fascination. 

“You have an idea,” he proclaimed, more of a statement than a question. Though his expression tightened a little, caught between confused and awed. “With… vegetation?” 

“This should work,” Soren stated, as though that would explain everything. 

“Explain.”

Of course, it didn’t.

“I'm not explaining because it sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud,” Soren shrugged, ignoring Elyx's dubious glance. “Just… trust the process.” 

At that, Elyx held perfectly still standing before Soren. The realisation hit Soren a little too late that Elyx wasn't only trusting the process; he was trusting Soren. It seemed so trivial but Elyx had no idea what Soren had planned and yet confided his full trust to him. It meant more than Soren anticipated. But he swallowed that thought down, other more pressing matters at hand. 

Which were, essentially, manually tickling the Echo's nose in a bid to make him sneeze for the first time. 

And that was the reason he hadn’t spoken it aloud; it sounded insane. 

Setting his jaw, Soren lifted the thin, wiry blade up in front of Elyx's face and gently, delicately slipped it up inside one nostril.

At first, there was nothing. Just a slight furrow of Elyx's brows as his nose adjusted to the tiny intruder threading inside. Though when Soren dipped it just a little higher, wriggling it minutely, Elyx jerked very slightly, his eyes widening. 

“Oh…” 

Soren paused, inadvertently halting any progress they were making. “What?” 

“I felt something,” Elyx declared, a hand lifting as he motioned towards his face. 

“Like what?” The hope was audible in Soren's tone. “A tickle?” 

“Yes,” Elyx confirmed, prompting Soren to begin movement once more, flicking the blade up against the sensitive inner walls of Elyx's nose. The reaction was immediate. “It is.. hh-..” 

A small, involuntary hitch cut Elyx's sentence short, Soren able to see the visible twitch in the Echo's nose, the way his slender nostrils flared rounder just slightly. 

“My facial actuators are behaving unpredictably.”

“Good,” Soren confirmed, a slight, almost smug smile curving his lips as he continued to weave the grass inside Elyx's nose. 

“That's good?” Elyx asked, his voice slightly breathy. 

“Yeah,” Soren chimed. “It means it's working.” 

Though despite continuing to flick the blade inside Elyx's nose, the Echo's expression soon levelled, a small inhale drawn through his nose before it was sighed back out again. 

“It stopped,” he concluded, unable to hide his disappointment. Soren frowned. 

“What do you mean it stopped?” 

“The feeling,” Elyx explained. “It's gone.” 

Soren had paused for the moment, considering, before Elyx snapped him back into the moment. 

“Again,” he stated, almost a command rather than a request. “Try it again.” 

“You're really committed to this, aren't you?” Soren quirked. 

“Yes.” Elyx's eyes fixed on Soren's, almost pleading. “It was working.” 

“Alright,” Soren conceded, locking in. “Round two.” 

Trying again, Soren swept the grass just a fraction higher inside Elyx's nose, teasing the sensitive inner walls, making them quiver gently against the irritation. The reaction was once again immediate, Elyx's nose twitching as a sharp, involuntary inhale was drawn. For the first time, his eyes fluttered against the sensation, his shoulders hunching just a fraction as a tiny hitch escaped. 

“..hH-!.. 

“I can see it,” Soren almost whispered, fascinated as he watched each tiny crease, each flicker of Elyx's expression as the tickle expanded. His hand kept flickering the blade inside Elyx's nose, searching for that sensitive sweet-spot that would trigger a sneeze. 

A hand suddenly reached out, gently grabbing Soren's wrist, not to stop him but as though grounding himself. 

“There is-.. hH-!.. pressure,” Elyx managed to stammer out even as his breath caught in his throat, his gaze rapidly losing focus. 

“That means it's building,” Soren assured. “Don't think about it. Just let it happen.” 

His wrist snapped the blade just a tiny bit higher, Elyx's nose twitching once, twice, a tiny, helpless sound escaping that Soren had never heard him make before. 

“Hh-!.. ihh-... It is.. ehh-... escalating.” 

“Don't overthink it,” Soren advised, knowing Elyx too well by now that he was likely overanalysing every single sensation, unintentionally preventing the sneeze from coming. He visibly watched as Elyx's eyes drifted closed as the grass continued its assault, the Echo's nostrils flaring wide around the intruder, a tiny glisten of moisture beginning to collect around the inner shores. 

“My s-.. sensory input is nahh-.. narrowing.”

“Stop trying to narrate it,” Soren almost snapped, though Elyx didn't stop. 

“It feels as though something is.. ihh-! o-overriding motor control..”

Soren couldn't help the huff of soft laughter at that. “That's exactly what's happening. You gotta let it.” 

Elyx made another desperate little sound as his head tipped back slightly on instinct, eyes closed, nose twitching, nostrils flared wide, the perfect picture of someone caught in a sneeze. 

Soren dipped the blade higher still, the tip brushing lightly against the most sensitive spot along his inner wall. 

That did it.

A sharp inhale was drawn. Elyx froze completely, every muscle locked, jaw slack and eyes closed as his chest inflated on a hitch. 

“hh…Hh…!”

Soren could practically see him trying to maintain composure through sheer force of will. But it was a losing battle. 

Elyx's breath hitched violently, the next inhale shuddering through his entire frame, his expression collapsed as he was completely overcome. 

Then—

“hh-! H'TDJZSH-!!” 

The resulting sneeze was clumsy, untidy, unpracticed. Elyx made no attempt to cover, doubling forwards slightly as a fine mist sprayed out in front of him from the release. Luckily, Soren managed to duck out of the way just in time, avoiding getting caught in the crossfire. The sound was clipped, slightly metallic at the edges, almost human but not quite, echoing softly across the ridges. 

For a moment, both of them froze. Soren could only stare. Elyx stared back, his eyes wide. 

“You did it,” Soren congratulated, the blade of grass since removed from Elyx's nose and discarded somewhere at their feet. 

“That was… interesting,” Elyx concluded, drawing in a sharp, involuntary sniffle as he considered, almost awe-struck. “My thoracic systems compressed automatically.” 

“You did good for your first time,” Soren quipped, his voice softening slightly as he added, “Bless you.” 

Elyx's expression morphed into a look of confusion once more. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It's just something humans say whenever someone sneezes,” Soren said with a shrug. Elyx's expression grew no less confused. 

“Why?” 

“I dunno,” Soren admitted. “Something to do with wishing people good health? I'd need to look it up.” 

Elyx looked like he was about to respond when he froze in place suddenly, his eyes widening in something resembling shock, before he managed to mutter, “...it's happening again.” 

Soren looked almost as horrified, unable to quite believe what was happening before him. The second build up was much faster, Elyx barely being given time to turn slightly to the side as another sneeze barrelled through him. 

“hH-!.. h'TSZSHh-!”

That one had Elyx staggering half a step backwards from the force of it, one hand rising instinctively up towards his face a second or two too late, the backs of his fingers brushing beneath his dampening nostrils. 

“You're enjoying this far too much,” he snipped at Soren, who hadn’t been able to hide the grin that crept onto his face. 

“You managed that one all by yourself!” Soren exclaimed, a patronising tint edging his words. 

“Yes, I was present for it,” Elyx sulked, before his expression collapsed once again into startled distraction. Soren audibly gasped. 

“There's more?” 

Elyx still had his fingers crushed beneath his nose, blinking against tears of irritation as the tickle began to build again. 

“The sensation is relentless,” he narrated, his expression and posture utterly overwhelmed by it at this point, composure completely dismantled. His eyes fluttered shut again as his shoulders tensed hard.

Soren had never seen him this disordered, never seen him unable to think his way through something. It was captivating, in a weird sort of way. 

“..hh-.. hAH-! H'TZSSHH'uh-!!” 

The third sneeze cracked out of him strongest of all, leaving the Echo bleary-eyed and sniffling, his internal processes clearly calculating every minor detail, leaving Elyx standing motionless for several seconds.

Then, slowly, he lowered his hand from his face.

“…I understand now,” he said quietly, voice edged with a subtle thickness. 

Soren grinned. “You do?”

Elyx looked at him with something strangely bright in his expression, belying his next words. 

“It was horrible.”

Soren barked a laugh.

Then Elyx’s mouth twitched upward a fraction too late.

“But,” he admitted, “also fascinating.”

“So, no interest in doing it again?” Soren asked. Elyx shook his head slowly, as a faint, residual irritation still flickered beneath his features. 

“No,” he confessed. “I think I have experienced enough sneezing to last me this lifetime.”