steameddorito
Steam didnât pay his discomfort any mind. It didnât bother him any. Heâd just leave if he were attacked. Although watching the results of that would certainly be fascinating. But. That would come in due time, he was sure. âNot at all. Last week I met a mermaid Ford. That was interesting.â He gave a small chuckle. He then took off his hat and gave a small bow. âThey call me Steam. Short for Steampunk Bill Cipher.â He stood up, twirled his hat and placed it back on his head. They eye spun around behind the goggle lens for a moment before refocusing, right on Ford.
The eye wasâŚa little unnerving. Considering this was a Cipher, that meant the eye had to come from someone in particular, likely. An old enemy perhaps?
Or perhaps a counterpart, but he didnât want to think about that.
Sixerâs tails flicked again. He didnât offer the demon any sort of âpleasantâ response to the greeting.
âI should have guessed by your attire,â Sixer said shortly. âDo you make it a hobby of traveling around and bothering my counterparts? I doubt that any of them have received you with open arms.â
Sixerâs body language was making it very clear that he didnât want Steam here either, but after spending as long as he had in the Nightmare Realm, in his collapsing dimension, it was occasionally hard to shake off old habits.
Steam sat in mid air and placed his cane across his lap. âActually, I do. And honestly, it would be such a boring trip if a Ford did welcome me with open arms. The standoffish-ness is to be expected. A challenge, if you will.â Of course Sixer was right about the eye with his second guess. But Steam didnât bring it up either. Would be far less than tactful to do so.... yet. âYouâre actually a lot more agreeable than some. At least youâve yet to attack me.â He brushed some dirt off the hem on his pants. It didnât matter how high he floated. Dirt always got on his clothes.


















