It might be less dramatic laughter than usual for the Host but it’s not helping the vivid redness of Noah’s face. At least it’s helping with the terrified pallor he’s been mostly wearing up until now! Unlike the increasingly apparent fact that the Host only sort-of knew what he was doing with the whole ghostly terrorizing thing- Noah could at least hypothetically have taken comfort in the idea that somebody knew what was going on, but no, Noah has to get the torment that was thrown together at the last second.
And Noah mostly doesn’t pursue the topic of the Host’s name- or lack thereof- either, beyond a muttered comment of “...You are incredibly weird.” Which Noah suspects the Host will probably take as a compliment.
(It’s a little hard to reconcile the idea of the invisible spook who’s been hauling him around with a hypothetical living man, so Noah just… doesn’t try to.)
The Host abruptly (from Noah’s point of view) and loudly claps, causing Noah to jump. “Wh-” he begins to say, before realizing the Host is addressing the tableau below them. Noah shuffles forward a little, because he would also like to know anything about Where Is Cam, and immediately realizes his mistake.
Noah freezes up. Oh god no. Everyone’s looking at him and they’re all creepy and inhuman and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, some of them even points at him. If anyone tries to talk to him- if anyone so much as moves towards him- he is going to scream and scream and run and probably trip and break his neck and it is going to be so embarrassing-
The Host says something. Noah has to take a few moments to stare dumbfounded into the distance while he actually processes it. Something about a lady and respect and grave danger to his safety.
“Uh,” Noah says intelligently. “Sure. I mean, yes. Sir.” His gaze just keeps sliding back to the ballroom, (Is anyone still looking at him?) but he at least makes an effort to hold up his end of the conversation. “...This lady, who is she?”
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Date: 2019-01-07 01:01 pm (UTC)And Noah mostly doesn’t pursue the topic of the Host’s name- or lack thereof- either, beyond a muttered comment of “...You are incredibly weird.” Which Noah suspects the Host will probably take as a compliment.
(It’s a little hard to reconcile the idea of the invisible spook who’s been hauling him around with a hypothetical living man, so Noah just… doesn’t try to.)
The Host abruptly (from Noah’s point of view) and loudly claps, causing Noah to jump. “Wh-” he begins to say, before realizing the Host is addressing the tableau below them. Noah shuffles forward a little, because he would also like to know anything about Where Is Cam, and immediately realizes his mistake.
Noah freezes up. Oh god no. Everyone’s looking at him and they’re all creepy and inhuman and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, some of them even points at him. If anyone tries to talk to him- if anyone so much as moves towards him- he is going to scream and scream and run and probably trip and break his neck and it is going to be so embarrassing-
The Host says something. Noah has to take a few moments to stare dumbfounded into the distance while he actually processes it. Something about a lady and respect and grave danger to his safety.
“Uh,” Noah says intelligently. “Sure. I mean, yes. Sir.” His gaze just keeps sliding back to the ballroom, (Is anyone still looking at him?) but he at least makes an effort to hold up his end of the conversation. “...This lady, who is she?”