Welcome to Gaia! ::

At a similar point in time, a particularly bug-like man was leaving his own duplex. He held a battered guitar by the neck as he shut his door and then spent a moment ignoring the goat that had grown reasonably used to residing in front of the flea-man's home.

The goat, meanwhile, chose to make a point of ignoring the fact that she was being ignored by bleating hungrily in the direction that F was already disappearing off to.

Obviously, F ignored this. He was in the mood for a highly productive day mostly involving the idle strumming of his guitar on the beach.

In space between his duplex and the sea, the flea-man was occupying himself with stepping on as many fallen leaves as possible, and so had his head down as he walked. Although he was heading more or less directly towards the kid, F hadn't yet spotted Miller.

F looked up only momentarily between the crunches, but it was long enough to catch sight of a shape that didn't quite fit in with the bench in front of him. He squinted instinctively as he slowed his pace, although this didn't particularly aid him in making out the person's features. The two arm-like extentions from his torso quivered and waved slightly.

F resorted to simply moving closer to identify the being, and when he was a few meters from Miller, a look of recognition clicked onto his own bug-like features.

That kid from Halloween?

"Oh-ay, ith you!" he blurted in a rather garbled manner, stepping up to the lad with long strides and something of a grin on his alien face.

"Va' wath fun." F announced, a look of mock-enjoyment sweeping across his features. He brought his guitar up to rest on the bench with a short release of breath and a "Hmf" sound.

"Did I geth your name?" he asked with a head tilt. "I don' reme'ber." he admitted with an odd twitch of his mouth bristles that F assumed would translate as a small smile.
At this distance the boy would be able to see his tongues wagging as he spoke, and quivering slightly even as he didn't. They could taste Miller's scent on the air.

F smiled slightly at the blatant sarcasm.

"Call me F." he said with a proud grin as he realised he hadn't mangled his words. The grin faltered only slightly at the boy's blunt remark.

"Wha', vethe?" he questioned calmly, protuding the accused appendages from his mouth further.
"I call 'em Eggbert, Lola and Bubble." he said as he pointed to each, and then swallowed the excess saliva that had accumulated as his tongues were displayed.

"Vey're all vuh bether to drink your blood with, my dear." he gurgled with a lazy smile before stretching out his arms until his joints clicked audiably and then flopping onto the bench beside his guitar.

"'Ay, don' worry, mate. I'f done worthe." he admitted with an amused snort. The kid hadn't run away screaming, and that proved more control than F could claim to have.

At Miller's response, F simply gave a silent grin. Perhaps his lame jokes were harder to take lightly now that he appeared a little less than harmless.

"Altho good for decorating caketh." he chirped brightly with a tongue wag, before his extra limbs twitched impatiently and his eyes wandered over to his guitar.

F looked at the boy blankly for a second. Why would someone with no musical talent carry a guitar?

"Certainly not." he answered with a careless head shake, rapping his toughened fingers against the wood.

"I wath planning to sail off vis mound on it." the flea-man announced with a hint of a grin and a brief gesture in the direction he had been headed - towards the beach.

"Ah-" F waved away Miller's comment. "-I's not tho bad once you ge' used to id all." he shrugged lightly.
"An' vis ith coming from vuh guy turnin' into a giant flea." a vague smile crept onto the man's features as he looked pointedly at the kid.

"All thorth." F replied, but realised his choice of words weren't particularly wise considering his awkward tongues. "-er. Loth o' thingth." he attempted again, to find this was only vaguely more understandable.

"I used to play in vuh thtreet." he explained simply as he ran his hand down the curved side of the guitar, obviously quite fond of the battered instrument. F then picked up the guitar and began to strum some tuneful chords.