[The modern and commonplace is about as familiar to him as the magical is, as far as reminders of home go.
The former is turning out to mean more, as he's strolling the Station, keeping his eyes leisurely scanning. It may have been distance, the relative lack of exposure to it as to the supernatural, but it was the same case in the unlife he might have temporarily left behind.
He had an unlife, regardless of anything. With Hanna he'd gotten reminders of what actually living is like in a world like the one simulated here, among other people living their lives.
He pops into a clothing place and tries on a couple hats, just because - he seems to have misplaced his in some chaos at Caer Glaem, but it might turn up. He may or may not pick up a sufficiently similar one if it doesn't - it isn't a thing he needs to overplan for, thanks to the fairy rings.
At some point a bit of combing through reminders of the should-be-normal world sees him leaning against a shelf of CDs and records. He's made note of an easily-useable radio and record player each in the Station's facilities. Face forward, eyes casting down to read the titles. He selects a Queen vinyl.
Looks over the cover. Flips it with a hand on each side, inspects the track list. Looks up to the nearest fellow Traveler.]
Know if there are any more? [Low, calm, and casual as to be deadpan. Believe him, he's letting himself cruise on sentimentality today.]
{...} | Hanna is Not a Boy's Name | Seelie
[The modern and commonplace is about as familiar to him as the magical is, as far as reminders of home go.
The former is turning out to mean more, as he's strolling the Station, keeping his eyes leisurely scanning. It may have been distance, the relative lack of exposure to it as to the supernatural, but it was the same case in the unlife he might have temporarily left behind.
He had an unlife, regardless of anything. With Hanna he'd gotten reminders of what actually living is like in a world like the one simulated here, among other people living their lives.
He pops into a clothing place and tries on a couple hats, just because - he seems to have misplaced his in some chaos at Caer Glaem, but it might turn up. He may or may not pick up a sufficiently similar one if it doesn't - it isn't a thing he needs to overplan for, thanks to the fairy rings.
At some point a bit of combing through reminders of the should-be-normal world sees him leaning against a shelf of CDs and records. He's made note of an easily-useable radio and record player each in the Station's facilities. Face forward, eyes casting down to read the titles. He selects a Queen vinyl.
Looks over the cover. Flips it with a hand on each side, inspects the track list. Looks up to the nearest fellow Traveler.]
Know if there are any more? [Low, calm, and casual as to be deadpan. Believe him, he's letting himself cruise on sentimentality today.]