<span style="font-family:Happy Monkey"><span style="font-size: 18px"><i>Oh... Oh no! Poe immediately held up his tiny baby hands in the face of the gun pointed at him, eyes wide, form shivering, once again a nervous wreck. How did he get out of this one? </i>"Eh...! Eh....!" <i>Poe sighed frantically, that blush turning the velvet of his face pink again in his anxiety. </i><br/>
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<i>Unlike these people...Poe was not dead. A psychopomp from the Dreaming, he could move between the overlapping neighboring worlds at will. So...if he got shot, he could die here. And this sort of purgatory was not where psychopomps ended up when they were deceased.</i><br/>
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<i>When the mechanical man finally realized that he was not a hideous monster but in fact a hotel guest, Poe was only too eager to nod and agree, </i>"Um...yes! Yes... Eh...!"<br/>
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<i>As the gun was put away, Poe lowered his hands and slumped visibly in relief. Sure, that was fine. Not many people liked insectoid beings or creatures, although Poe resented just the tiniest bit being called a "bug". But he totally got it. To be fair, he hadn't intended on making a lot of friends here; mostly, he was here to enjoy company without being at work on dreams.</i><br/>
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<i>Directed on where he should go, Poe glanced at the indicated seats and gave the machine man the equivalent of a smile, showing him a tiny thumbs up and peace sign as he muttered, </i>"Yes... Yes.... Eh..."<i> and moved over to the stool closest to the stage area. Once there, he preoccupied himself with inspecting the stage and softly gurgling in appreciation for the decorations.</i></span></span>