When her fingers accidentally brushed against his skin, he felt warm. She was tempted, for a moment, to believe he had a fever, but decided that, perhaps his body temperature simply ran higher than a human's would. He showed no other symptoms of a fever, so she decided that she must have been right and quickly banished the thoughts from her mind as she finished her task and moved on to composing herself and helping him with his shoes.<br/><br/>Once his shoes were on and he was ready to go, she headed out the door and began walking down the road. She took note of his reactions as the cars and motorcycles went by, sounds and sights she was used to, but he clearly wasn't. She watched as his ears turned back, almost reminding her of a cute little puppy, though she tried not to be amused by his discomfort, cute though his reactions may be. It wasn't long before he covered his ears with his hands, though he continued following her closely.<br/><br/>Just as she took note of his reactions, she also took note of the reactions of those around them. They stared, many commented, a few tried to hide their comments my muttering them under their breath, many didn't bother to do that, pointing and declaring their opinions rudely. Of course, the fact that he was with her probably made matters worse, since people didn't know him, so on his own he was a bit strange, but many likely wouldn't have paid all that much attention to him.<br/><br/>She, on the other hand, had quite a reputation. Whether it was good or bad depended entirely on who you asked, but most people in this town knew who she was. To some she was a rebel, a troublemaker. To some she was the daughter of the man who led their town, a girl with just as much, if not more of a natural disposition to leading as her father did, given how many times she'd bought their children together and led them in both constructive, and somewhat reckless activities, but who rarely used this talent. To others she was a genius with vast untapped potential who wasted that potential, for reasons unbeknownst to them. Whatever they knew her for, most people, or at least most of the adults, tended to agree on one thing: that she is restless and doesn't live up to her potential.<br/><br/>In essence, she is a walking disappointment. Not that it bothered her much. She was used to it by now, and she didn't care to live her life governed by the expectations of others. She had no desire to live her life to impress others. She would live life to its fullest, in a way she enjoyed. As long as she was happy, who cared what other people thought?<br/><br/>She glanced at him once again and noticed that his hands had clenched into fists and he had little flames on his skin. They were small enough that most wouldn't notice, but she did. She instinctively reached out and touched his hand with hers, trying to offer some comfort, or perhaps show him that he wasn't alone. After a brief moment, when her brain finally processed what she had done and she thought he may not like it, she moved to pull her hand back. "<span style="font-style: italic">Sorry.</span>"<br/><br/>She sighed as yet another person made a loud, rude comment. She knew he couldn't understand their words, but their tone was enough. Regardless, she understood what they were staying and it got under her skin. "Would you mind your own business?" she snapped at someone, her usual calm and happy exterior giving way to her fiery temper for a moment as she glared at the man who quickly dipped his head and walked away quickly. The others around who had seen the display followed suit, walking past them without looking up at them. She released a heavy sigh, and with it the built up tension, returning to a more calm state.<br/><br/>Soon they reached the guards' office and she walked in. Seeing that the man was busy with someone, she waited quietly for him to finish, looking back to find that Prometheus was still outside the door, hesitating to come in. He had that same intense look in his eyes, only this time it didn't make her as uncomfortable as before. Rather, this time, she noticed all of the other things that seemed to be going on. Despite his usual warrior-like persona, he seemed uneasy, timid even. She tilted her head just a little, her eyes showing a hint of understanding. She opened the door and stepped back out so that she was in front of him.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Are you... alright?</span>" she asked, concerned. She held out a hand for him, if he wished to take it. "<span style="font-style: italic">Will you come?</span>" she asked in a gentle voice, waiting to see if he would take her hand or not. After a moment, whether or not he took her hand, she gently coaxed him into the building, seeing the person that the guard had been talking to leave. "<span style="font-style: italic">You want your swords?</span>" She asked, gesturing to the door, opening it and walking inside.<br/><br/>Once inside she walked into the guard's office. "Hey, Mr. Sullivan." she greeted him. "Hello, Emory. What can I do for you?" he asked. "You remember the guy who fell this morning? He wanted to get his swords back." she explained. "Right. Well, then." he looked past her, to Prometheus. "What's your name? Do you have any identification?" he asked him, but Emory quickly stepped in, knowing he wouldn't understand what he was being asked. "He doesn't have identification. Not unusual, considering he, you know, fell from the sky and all." she explained. "He doesn't seem to remember much of anything, either. Including how he got here. But he did remember his name. He said he thinks it is Prometheus." she continued.<br/><br/>The guard listened as she explained, looking past her to Prometheus. "He does seem rather confused. Does he have a last name?" he asked, to which she shook her head. "He didn't remember one." she was lying, but she couldn't very well explain what really happened. Hell, she still wasn't even one hundred percent certain she knew. "I know it's a lot to ask, but the swords are really his only possessions, and they could be the key to getting his memories back." another lie, but he seemed to buy it, sighing and folding his hands in front of him. "Please? I'll vouch for him, and I'll keep him out of trouble." she promised.<br/><br/>The older man laughed and quirked a brow. "No offense, Emory, but you're not exactly the first person I'd pick to keep someone out of trouble." he smiled. She pouted, "That hurt, Mr. Sullivan. You cut me real deep right here." she pointed to her heart, but cracked a smile. "I guess you're not wrong, though." she shrugged. He chuckled and sighed, "That being said, I do know that you won't let him hurt someone, and you wouldn't vouch for him if you thought he would try to hurt people." he explained. "Your parents will be around, right?" he asked with a contemplative look on his face and she nodded.<br/><br/>"Alright, then. Just this once. If you and your parents are taking care of him, I'm sure it'll work out just fine." he finally agreed, standing from his desk and opening a locked cabinet nearby, from which he retrieved the swords and held them out to Emory. "If anything happens..." he began and she waved a hand. "I know. If anything happens, I take responsibility." she finished the thought for him, taking the swords. "Thank you." she thanked him with a smile. "I owe you one."<br/><br/>"It's fine, just stay out of trouble." he waved off her thanks and looked past her to Prometheus. "I hope you get your memories back soon." he gave him a small smile. "Thanks." Emory thanked him for Prometheus before turning around, grabbing his hand, and leading him out of the office before he said anything that would give away that her story was a lie. Like, you know, anything not English.<br/><br/>Once they were outside she held the swords out to him. "<span style="font-style: italic">Here.</span>" she smiled sweetly as she handed them to him.