openmisc | Kent/Feldspar

“I don’t mind, go for it,” they smile, spreading their fingers a bit and giving them a wiggle. “I’ve got the advantage here. It’s only fair you get to see what we aliens look like.”

And it’s fascinating to them too, getting to watch how a blind alien would experience the world. Aside from the odd stumble here and there, he doesn’t really carry himself any differently.

“Attack and defense. Sounds like they’re scared of what they don’t know.”

"Bingo."

He laughs, sliding onto the floor woth them on his knees. "That means you're right."

He slides his hands along those three digits. "Opposable thumb," he says with a smile. "But not mammalian."

“Four limbs like you. My toes match my fingers, by the way. But hey-”

Feldspar laughs and picks up Kent’s hand and places it on the top of their head.

“No fur!”

He cackles a little, delighted, and slides his hand down the back of their neck.

"Well, we call it hair. Fur is more for animals."

“Hair,” Feldspar repeats. “Fair enough. Feel my skull too? Pointier than yours. Oh, and my ears!”

They guide Kent’s hand to one of their ears - the one that looks less chewed-up. “They droop as we get older.”

He grins, lightly brushing his thumb across the tip of their ear. He brings fingers to their face next, along their strange shaped jaw and - "Scars? Or - normal markings?" he wonders.

Feldspar can feel the heat rising in their suit as Kent finds his way to their face. “Scars. I do a lot of crashing. We’ve got marks on our face and necks and stuff, but you can’t really feel them. They’re like…these, here.”

They touch one of the freckle patches on Kent’s arm.

“Only larger.”

They draw a bigger circle to indicate the general size of the Hearthian ‘scales’.

“I’ve got them on my forehead and down my back, but some of us are covered in them. And uh…our faces…are different. If you wanted to feel that too.”

He moves his hands to their shoulders again, lowering his head a bit as he laughs. "No, it's alright. I think that's as much mapping as I can handle right now." But he doesn't want to move his hands. He wants to keep them here, grounded on their shoulders, as if they can lead him to safety once more.

"You seem more like...well, nothing I've ever experienced. That's a compliment, by the way."

Feldspar doesn’t comment on Kent keeping his hands on their shoulders. They laugh again - this time at the compliment. They’ve heard it before.

“It usually isn’t meant as one, not when it comes to me.”

“It’s a surprise Felds has lasted this long,” Slate calls over, and suddenly they remember that they aren’t alone. They sit back with a self-deprecating smirk and wait for Slate to walk their way.

“Mayor’s on their way, along with Gneiss. They’re calling for a campfire tonight to introduce the alie- er. Kent. But Rutile and Gneiss want to meet them first.”

Feldspar nods, putting their hand over one of Kent’s and then getting to their feet. They pull up Kent as well, wanting his traveler to be impressive when the mayor and Gneiss arrive.

“Rutile’s our mayor,,” Feldspar tells Kent. “They’re good. Knowledgeable. They tend to look down on the whole space exploration thing, but only because we sometimes cause fires.”

“Sometimes? More like with half our launches,” Slate snickers.

“Yeah. That. And Gneiss…” How to describe Gneiss, one of the best of them? “Gneiss is one of our elders. They’re kind and supportive, and lead our orchestra. They’ve built every single Hearthian instrument. You’ll like them, promise. And I’ll…I’ll be right here no matter what, okay?”

Kent takes their hand and stands up. "You'll have to guide me. I'll show you how," he says to them in a whisper before letting go of their hand. He can hear the sound of footsteps approaching outside the door and he tries not to look nervous. He reaches for a cane that isn't there and settles for his hands pulled close to his body instead.

Feldspar’s expression hardens into something serious and protective. If there’s something they needs to learn for Kent’s sake then they will - they’re a quick study.

They stand close enough to bump shoulders if Kent sways as Rutile and Gneiss come through the door of Outer Wilds Ventures, the old floorboards creaking suddenly stopping short with a quiet gasp. Gneiss has their hands over their mouth, eyes darting up and down at the newcomer, while Rutile looks on with a studious frown.

“Gossan says you can understand our language,” the mayor begins. “They also say that you’re blind. I’m Rutile, mayor of our little settlement.”

“My stars,” Gneiss says quietly. “You’re really real. I had to see it for myself, but here you are. A traveler from another planet!”

Rutile gives Gneiss a friendly elbow to the side. “Oh, yes, right. I’m Gneiss. Just Gneiss. You’re so handsome!”

From behind the two Feldspar can hear Gossan chuckle.

If there is one thing Kent can do, it's schmooze. He sets in his best smile, genuinely charmed by their enthusiasm that sounds so real.

"All of that is true. I know your language, in a very bizarre twist. I wonder if your writing is the same. I'm familiar with the letters. I offered to take a check at your star charts, so I can try to approximate our placement."

“Gossan had mentioned,” Rutile continues. “It’ll be interesting to learn more about your…neck of the woods, I guess. They also mentioned that your craft is still up on Brittle Hollow, and that it was apparently a one-way journey.”

“Without his knowledge,” Feldspar pipes up. “They were given the schematics to the machine without any real details about what it would do. It worked differently the first time it was tested. I don’t think Kent really thought he’d end up here without a way to go back.”

Rutile, for all of their seriousness, does look sympathetic.

“Well, we can tell one thing,” Gneiss adds, “you’re very courageous.”

Courageous.

Kent never thought of himself as such. Not in any sense of the word. In fact, he's pretty sure he'd be counted as very, very stupid.

But he smiles a little at the compliment anyway.

"There are some - things on the vessel still. I didn't take them because I was too - disoriented. Feldspar said he'd try and retrieve them, but they can help explain my world in a way that I can't. But I am willing to help out in whatever way I can. My people have been flying in space and landing on the moon for thirty years - uh - a little less than half our typical lifespan."

Feldspar can only agree with Gneiss - they think he’s very courageous for even getting into the vessel to begin with, never mind following through with activating it. At least they knew that strapping themselves to a rocket would either men they’d explode or fly.

Kent’s response earns an actual smile out of Rutile though. “We’ve been going into space even less than that. I’m sure your knowledge would be invaluable to our Outer Wilds crew here. Please tell me your ships cause less fires.”

"Controlled fires that don't spread. We build our launch pads near oceans and place concrete structures underneath to mitigate any damage to the wildlife," he explains. "How many fires have you caused?"

“What’s concrete?” Slate asks instead of answering the question.

“Too many,” Rutile mutters. “I think maybe you’ve come here to save us from Outer Wilds Ventures.”

Gneiss laughs and Rutile pulls a smirk, though Feldspar can see on Hornfels face that they’re not very amused by the repeated digs.

"Concrete. It's a mixture of cement, sand, and gravel. It makes a very sturdy material that cen hold up against heat. And - uh, I'd be happy to help Outer Wilds Ventures. Exploration of space is - paramount. I mostly focused on radiowaves, though. Using sound to map the stars."

Feldspar glares at Slate before they can ask what cement is too.

“Radiowaves!”

Hornfels is looking elated by the very idea, as though they’ve never thought of it before. And it’s very likely that they haven’t. They’ve only used their eyes to observe the sky.

“Before Hornfels can question you half to death, let’s talk about where you’ll stay. Feldspar - the cabin by the waterfall. Can you prep it? I’m going to speak a while with our guest, make sure they’re cared for.”

Staying alone on an alien planet in a house that he doesn't know how to navigate, next to a waterfall...

He's not thrilled about it, but he certainly isn't going to turn it down.

But the mayor is good about explaining almost everything to Kent on the way to the cabin. They are patient as Kent explores the small area and gives him a place to rest. They tell him about the campfire, where he will be introduced to the society as a whole, and they answer all of Kent's questions.

The people of Timber Hearth take to Kent almost immediately. The others keep the people from crowding Kent, hut he's happy enough to answer questions.

And when he's seated at the fire, someone hands him a stick for his marshmallow.

"Marshmallow?" he exclaims. "We have these!"

The hatchlings are absolutely beside themselves with the news of the alien’s arrival, and it’s all Feldspar and the other older Hearthians can do to keep them from bombarding Kent with a thousand questions and wanting to see his two eyes and five fingers and hair up close. Riebeck is exceptionally excited, so much so that they burst into tears when they first see him and have to spend the rest of the evening being comforted by Esker.

Feldspar wants to spend time with Kent, but so does everyone else, so they spend a little of their time hanging around the outside of the campfire playing the harmonica. When it finally looks like there’s a clear spot next to Kent they quickly jump to their feet and take their spot beside him, grinning slightly in disbelief.

“You don’t! Really? Do you roast them over fires too?”

"We do!" he exclaims, taking one and tasting it, pre-roasted. "Oh my god, they're exactly like this. Shaped and everything. You don't have chocolate, do you?"

What a weird coincidence. He leans against Feldspar a little, gaining a little grounding from them.

They shake their head and reaches for a marshmallow from the can. “No, we don’t have that stuff. But that’s so weird that we both have marshmallows. Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that should hop from solar system to solar system, does it?”

Feldspar clicks their tongue. “Weird,” they mutter again to themselves.

Kent holds out a stick to them. "Here. I trust you with my marshmallow roasting," he says with a smile. "Unless you like burning them. In which case, I retract that statement and you have to sit elsewhere. I refuse to smell burned marshmallow."

"I'm not insane," Feldspar scoffs, taking the stick and holding it the right distance over the fire, like the pro that they are. "One perfectly-toasted marshmallow coming up!"

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