<b><span style="text-decoration: underline">Mess Hall - Arthur</span></b><br/><br/>Arthur was a veteran with over five decades spent in this wicked world. The burning trail in the sky of Kohoutek's passing is forever etched in his mind. He's been to places during his time in the united armies that are now forgotten in both name and existence. Names like Britain, Paris or the USA would not evoke confusion, but memories. Yet despite all those wonders and horrors he's seen, seeing someone blush at the sight of him still brings a warm smile to Arthur's lips. While Aura might not agree with how charming her flustered nervousness was to him, it was undeniable that it only made the half-human look cuter. Surely that must be an universal fact, Arthur pondered. Children, adults, Aura and even Meguri looked better with an embarrassed colouring their cheeks.<br/><br/>The man's musing smile was comforting rather than condescending, like a pair of open arms inviting you to walk alongside him. So Arthur sipped his soup and dibbed his bread while listening attentively to Aura. He'd known from the start she'd have trouble. To be human all your life and then discover you're something different than human, and in the opinion of society, something less than human. Even putting aside being thrust into an unfamiliar, harsh world, the identity crisis alone would be cause enough for heavy depression. Arthur had made sure that the Cheshires spent a lot of time with Aura during her first days at the shelter, to at least provide her some comfort, and stop her from doing potentially harmful things to herself and others.<br/><br/>So really, Arthur knew Aura would want to vent the worries in her heart, but he couldn't have been more wrong about which worries. He'd expected her to talk about having trouble fitting in or getting along with the other residents, but not this. Sleepwalking? How was he supposed to give advice about that? Why had those blasted cats not told him a thing? Shifting in his seat, Arthur pondered what to say while looking for the Cheshire cats. He caught a glimpse of Mort following Michael, another new resident, and he knew Meguri must've been the one to ask Mort to keep an eye on him. Shade, on the other hand, was on the other side of the mess hall, playing tag with a bunch of satyr and oni kids.<br/><br/><span style="color: blue">"Well..." </span>Arthur straightened himself, smiling at Aura again.<span style="color: Blue">"I knew you'd likely not have an easy time, considering your circumstances, but I admit to not having expected this. I'm afraid I'm no expert on sleepwalking, but if you're worried, I could organize things so that any of your friends sleep in the same area, so they can keep an eye on you, or I could ask the Cheshires, if you'd prefer?"</span>Arthur asked, neatly dodging the 'no friends' issue.<br/><br/><br/><b><span style="text-decoration: underline">Mess hall - Michael</span></b><br/><br/>Soft padded feet followed the lizard-like man. The Cheshires were some of the few non-humanoid transhumans at the shelter. Though those oversized housecats are a far cry from the ancient feline hunters, they were still more beast than most other shelter residents. Mort assumed Michael might have an easier talking to him and getting over the social awkwardness the beastman struggled with. Besides, Whisper had asked him on Meguri's behalf, and while Mort felt no loyalty to the kitsune, Whisper was still the oldest of the three brothers, so Mort at least had to<i>humour</i>him. It might turn out interesting too.<span style="color: plum">"Having trouble fi-"</span><br/><br/>*Bump*<br/><br/>All the best laid plans of mice and men (and cats) often go awry, as does Mort's, unfortunately for him. While Michael had chosen a more quiet spot to brood at, people still passed by, and one of those had just bumped into Michael by accident.<span style="color: red">"Oh, sorry!"</span>Red hair, red eyes, red lips, red like blood and an innocent laugh unbefitting for vampires. Though Michael might not see it through his blindfold, Morgan showed him a broad, careless smile ruined by her fangs and the trickle of scarlet running down her chin. Hurrying up behind her was Twitch, the girl with the owl feather eyebrows and large eyes. Twitch carried Morgan's umbrella for her, protecting the strangely ecstatic vampiress. "<span style="color: silver">Sorry about Morgan, meals always give her too much energy!"</span><div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>