Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was a boring, uneventful day. Mostly by Thom's choice. Rather than go off to explore the island, he had remained lurking infront of his own duplex, amusing himself with kicking his soccer ball against the duplex wall. He had been thrilled to discover that the glass of his window refused to break, and had taken full advantage of this trait, punting one soccer ball after another at the wall and responding to each return bound as the angle demanded.

It had never occurred to him that someone might live upstairs. Thus, when he heard a door close over the thuds of his soccer ball, he immediately lost interest in his game. Leaving the ball where it fell, he peeked around towards the staircase, quirking a brow at the woman on her way down. ...And then she tripped, and Thom stepped up to meet her, one hand catching himself on the railing while the other arm rescued her from her fall, drawing her to his side. "Are you all right?"

He released her without complaint, holding up his now-free hand to show he meant no harm. "It's quite alright. Happens t' everyone. And I'm fine," he assured her, grinning wryly. As if this little thing could hurt him, even if she had falling completely down the stairs and landed sprawled atop him.

Thom took a small step back, more to make her more comfortable than anything, but grimaced as his foot landed on something coarse and slimey. A glance down informed him that not only was he standing in trash, but the falling bag had effectively coated his feet in it. Disgusted, he wrinkled his nose, shaking off one foot and carefully stepping to avoid as much garbage as possible. "Ah, no worries. We'll get that cleaned up.."

Thom was not at all pleased by the stinking mess dripping along his bare feet and would have very much liked to retreat to his duplex and find something with which to clean them. However, he felt obligated to stay and help clean up the assorted goop covering the stairs and, stepping down a couple of stairs, began gathering the trash in that area. It would have been rude to just walk off, even if he had kept her from falling. And, as she was his upstairs neighbor, it would probably prove beneficial to him to stay on her good side.

Hands full of garbage, he glanced up when she spoke, eyeing her curiously as she searched for the word. As he followed her point to her own scales, recognition dawned and, nodding, he straightened up, reaching forward to replaced the garbage in the bag. "Scales? I do, unfortunately. Turnin' t'some kind of snake, I'd wager. D'you know what you'll be?"

Chuckling bitterly, Thom bent to retrieve a few larger goops of god-knows-what, dropping them in the bag as well before straightening up and attempting to flick the excess off his hands. "Well, as long as you've still got toes, I'd say you'll be fine."

However, his smile returned somewhat with the offer, though he shook his head. "No trouble, I assure you. An', ah, I wouldn't want t'get...goop on your floor." He grinned, shifting one foot out of the trail of sludge.

"If you insist," he agreed, quirking a brow. Hell, he was perfectly happy not to get rotting trash all over his floor. And he could always help her clean up her floor...if he had to. Until then, the company of a pretty woman was much more inviting than resuming kicking a ball at a wall.

At the unexpected squeaked, he stepped up another step, as if expecting to have to catch her again. When she simply apologized, he blinked, then laughed, offering a hand. "Thom Brinley. S'a pleasure t' meet you, Natsumi."

Ah yes, the muck. He had forgotten for a moment there. He frowned down at his hand as if it had interrupted something important, then, chuckling, followed her up the stairs. As if there was anywhere else to go. The stairs led right to her front door, and there was no other duplex above him.

Remaining otherwise silent, he followed inside, walking awkwardly on the balls of his feet to leave as little gunk on the floor as possible. Upon reaching the bathroom, he dipped his hands beneath the faucet once she was done, then moved to sit on the edge of the tub, acceptng the rag and setting about cleaning his feet. "Thank you."

While she was gone, Thom busied himself with cleaning off his feet. For the first time since his change, he had found a reason to be thankful for his lack of toes: nasty rotting gunk couldn't get between them if he stepped in it. Still, the thought of old horrible germ encrusted garbage coating his feet was enough to make him extra meticulous in his cleaning, especially when one considered the myriad of little cuts on his feet from walking around barefoot. An infection would not bode well.

Thus, he was still cleaning when Natsumi returned, though admittedly nearly complete. However, the perfection of his task would go unfulfilled, for a little squeak from the woman distracted him. Blinking, he looked up, at her expression glancing behind himself as if expecting to find some horrible monster. And so he narrowed his search, eyes scanning the tub area for what might have spooked her. A roach, a spider, something. Certainly not himself.

By the time he returned his eyes to the woman, she was hiding from him, and he wisely made the decision that they should leave the bathroom. Maybe then the ability to speak would return. Setting the rag aside, he rose to his feet, cocking his head at her as if unsure what to make of her behavior. "Ah... Whatsay we 'ead outside? I don't like bein' indoors f' very long. 'Ave you ever played football?" Dumb jock routine. But it was a distraction, at least.