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Charity: giving to those in need. Helping those of lesser circumstances. Donating a currency towards a worthy goal.

There were definitions for these things. In books, even. He could mine their purpose in human society, even if he thought it'd be better for them to all simply band together as one and make their needs become realities for the betterment of the city they all called home. Ah-well, he would've been happy to see what was being advertised as *display*. Thought he might've enjoyed the smell, much like the libraries, and maybe the chance at bringing something home to share?

Tenoch didn't understand what part, if any, *dancing* played in all of this, but he intended to be prepared for each and every possible outcome that evening. Knew well and good that he needed to work on 'being' more out in the world. So he would don 'a suit', official dress-wear of people going to formal parties; lilac pastels with black trim and tie. There were rules apparently on buttons -- cuffs, belly, blazer -- never had he been more thankful for their tech than at that moment. If he could pull something from an image and have it suddenly on his person.

He understood formality. Wasn't sure if the 'humans' did. No ones outfits looked like any sort of uniform regulation, or near the same, or -- whether it was a trick of the heat -- light. He swore he'd spotted some who were wearing garb strung entirely of beads, fishline, tiny sparkly scales -- sequins? Others - there were whispered mentions of 'statement pieces' and 'living art' in the way of models. There was a blinding amount of Variety, mixed in with the sort of chatter that sent him scattering to the display walls like a vine; the amount of items on auction-able view as vast as the throngs of bodies that peeled in haphazardly to ogle them.

This was nothing at all like the Children's books he'd studied in preparation for the event! Cinderella lied to him!

He observed, as always he'd been taught, sideways glances, peripherals, dog-tilted angles, watching - - -

So much so that he'd nearly knocked over a strange man imitating a penguin, carrying little drinks on trays that smelled like very fruity disinfectant. Which in-turn got him observed, and how in the cosmos could he learn anything if they were watching him, watching them, watching --

It was too much!!

He bore his teeth in the way of a dogs grin, got balked at, and stepped out of the area holding small statues adorned with tiny human genitalia carrying the occasional bit of fruit and foliage that covered nothing at all. Humans seemed to love their own forms cast in stone; found himself in a room full of tall pillars and canvases cast under varying sprays of light.

Floor light, ceiling light, spotlight, colored lights made of heart shaped glass!

Humans seemed to also be obsessed with lights. From their cities, to their streets, every corner of their world they could, cast in light, right down to their little display trinkets. Tenoch had read somewhere that they shared 61 percent of their genetic makeup with bugs...or was it banannas...regardless, he was starting to think it true, and that the bug in question must have been a Moth.

All his buzzing thoughts, led to him standing and staring not at the people, but at the things they were enamored with. Particularly the paintings. He didn't know how to define their value, not as Isaac - not as Itztenoch - but...if he looked long enough? A smear of color that would catch his attention more than the rest, even if he couldn't define why.

Like with the rain smells, and playing near the sea. Things he just liked without needing to put a reason to.

Strange.

Stranger still was the man that stood out like an off colored swatch. Contrast drab and normality packed into an arena full of grand dresses and full suits. Isaac brushed his trailing braid back behind an ear, and watched the man the same way people watched their paintings. At odd angles and with slow head tilts; as if that somehow gave the things sense.

Eye contact - and Tenoch briefly felt caught out, because he was very sure art wasn't supposed to stare *back* - or was it? It seemed that everything the typical human owned, mounted, or framed had eyes.

Even their vegetables -- peas -- potato's --

Did fruits have eyes also? Like how some cars seemed to have beaming faces made of metal grills and headlights that stuck out brighter than their high-beams. There were all sorts of eye-like relations that he'd never really considered; maybe if he bothered Aliez or Naeria about it?

He pinned that thought for another time as he found his staring gently matched by the man, mimicked the look he received with added intensity, because what was better than still fruits and busts of white birds? An interactive piece!

A challenge!

Tenoch was delighted, a slight thrum of excitement for being noticed that looking over the display pieces didn't bring. Maybe it was nostalgia....for when his people watching'd had a purpose that felt more important than simply entertaining himself; when every discovery was confusing and new.

So Tenoch failed to answer the silently lobbed question, but instead, moved closer --

What. Was. That.

His attentions shifted between the man himself, and the handheld device. Some nostalgic bit of familiarity that flared up whenever he ran across Earth and it’s unique tech, if his interest in the man hadn’t been peaked before?

It certainly was now.

And much like the box labeled Pandora? Once interested? He couldn’t become uninterested, or was that something to do with opening and closing doors — or not peeking at presents? The vast array of ancient myths and humans beginnings were so often confusing…

It was why he liked the children’s books. The morals were simple, un-muddled, and brightly colored.

“Yes.” A firm nod to acknowledge the greeting, and his hands found his pockets instead of on offer to the stranger, but surely not everyone liked shaking hands? So in his pockets they stayed.

“Your fruit bearing shirt is nice, and now? You’re officially more interesting than the art…I’m Isaac.” there, a perfectly standard greeting, tempered with a smile and genuine compliment! He could see the scaffolding forming up around the process known as ‘making friends’, he felt good about his chances at having a conversation even! Surely he didn’t have to be miserly all the time?

Maybe if he could find a thing that interested him…..

A person, and then? He could find things, and then? Hobbies, jobs, all that sameness that the others had and he just — hadn’t….

What?

Tenoch oozed confusion, face scrunched, suddenly lacking in words to answer back with, because of course the human was seeing someone! He clearly had functional eyes, they’d made contact after all! Tenoch had to have been one of many someone’s he’d already seen that night.

Which left him wondering if maybe it was his compliments which were off the mark? If he’d deeply misread the sort of subject topic which would garner interest —- But humans were supposed to like compliments too, weren’t they? All the things that existed in their own image. They found faces in toast, in rocks, in the nature of all that was around them. He realized, as he watched the mans back recede into the crowd, that maybe it was the focus of his compliments which had been off. Surely everyone else was admiring the art pieces at all manner of volumes, and yes they complimented each other too, but?

Tonight was for the art — auction — some nature of charity with deep layers of meaning that still managed to escape him.

*It was fine.*

He let it go and made a note to simply try his hand again, differently next time for sure, when he was less an alien stuffed into a mansuit and more at ease; even if no surroundings would ever feel same enough to bring him the comfort of home.

The second note he made was of the tech which reminded him so of his companion - it’d been quite awhile since he’d asked Fae-Fae to spar, since he’d checked in on how her own interests were going.

Would tampering with human tech be something she’d be into?

He thought Fae-Fae would’ve liked the bit of tech that made up the mans voice, however protogenic to their own: she would’ve lovingly improved upon it, made it sing like the earth birds or human instruments - a symphony of both.

He’d find time to bring it up with her after he stared at more art.