HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS

" well, you're honestly the prettiest alien i've ever seen.. not that i've really seen any aliens. "

yeah, definitely not like a grey-headed little roswell looking fella. or little green guy with antenna. there were so many different kinds of peop-- er, strangers living in spirale.

Jacinthe had been told of this performance, but she wasn't certain Robin had seen her yet in the nearly full dining room surrounding the stage. Nevertheless, she had claimed she would attend, and she proudly did so!

If Robin should look her way during her song, she would give an encouraging smile. If not, Jacinthe would simply hunt her down find her after — the bouquet had to find the hands it meant to congratulate.

Besides, it gave her more of an opportunity to connect with familiar face when she was done. She hadn't missed Jacinthe in the crowd of customers, not when she had such a strong presence and sense of fashion.

“My files say I was hummin’ and singin’ nonsense before I could talk in full sentences.” Till likes to imagine that’s the kind of story his mother would have told him had they not been separated.

He waves away her justifications about her choice to freelance easily. “Nah, I get it. I’ve never gotten on well with, uh… agencies historically, so… But, I mean, Ismael is good people if ya ever did want t’ sign with anyone. Ivan seems pretty happy, too.” Well, at least Ivan didn’t seem unhappy. It was definitely a huge improvement, even if Till found Ivan’s decision not to branch out with his newfound freedom baffling.

“S-superstar? I-I wouldn’t say I was a superstar, but I w-was pretty well known in my world too…” It was one of the many reasons he liked being here so much. It seemed like everyone back in his old world had known everything about him and had already judged him on it before meeting him. The best-case scenario was that other humans would look at him with pity. He hated it. Curse Ivan and his big mouth. Till swore that man would tell his entire life story to a stranger if they sat still long enough to listen to it. But, at least that was her only big takeaway from her conversation with Ivan, and not how 'charming' he was or something.

“S-speaking of...” Till scratches at the brand on his neck self-consciously. “How… What kinda things did Ivan tell ya about our world? We do come from the same place, yeah. We went t’ school together. I’ve known him since we were kids.”

Till looks around. It is getting pretty late. Do the buses even run this late?

“Oh, yeah, I’m Till. ‘Robin’, huh? Like the songbird? That’s nice. ‘S like whoever named ya knew or somethin’.”

She'd spent a lot of her under the labels of other people. It might be nice to work under her own independence for a change!

So, not a superstar. But famous? There were artists like that. Perhaps he was a novice on the big stage, or perhaps he did shows or competitions. Of course, Ivan's claims to have been shot several times was something she couldn't tie to showbusiness in their world, but she had entertained the possibility. Till brought it up himself. "Not... a lot. Just that he was injured after seeing an old wound on my neck. They were from different circumstances, however."

"I do wonder if that's why my parents gave me that name. I wasn't much of a singer as a baby, but my mother enjoyed singing. I can't deny the likelihood that it was related. Although it wouldn't explain why they named my twin brother Sunday." A songbird and a day of the week made for an interesting set of names for a pair of twins.