[h1][color=gray]Harmon Rottlage[/color][/h1]
[hr]
She knew Harmon’s name before he even introduced himself. The meant one of two things; she remembered meeting him sometime last year and he forgot her completely… or, she’s a cerebral. It didn’t matter to him much which scenario was true. She wasn’t outright berating him. That was good enough for him.

[color=gray]“I, uh…”[/color] He responded to the young woman, [color=gray]“I-I’m doing… the, the same thing… waiting, that is…”[/color]

Harmon was making his absolute best attempt at a casual conversation. However, amidst his jumbling of words, something picked at the back of his brain. A presence. Not a mind, but a device. One in hand and being utilized. And he felt that familiar ping of a picture being taken. Of him, no less. He turned his head – and his camera – in the general direction of the presence. But there was nothing actually visible there. Just a space in the garden. But he knew someone was present. And he saw the demeaning message they had just sent string through his mind as well.

[center][b][i]i'm honestly scared for my life what is that omg *crying emoji*[/i][/b][/center]

Such reactions, he was used to. But this time he thought he’d try something different. He lowered his head and placed his own consciousness amidst the signal of the phone. And then… he replied.

[center][b][i]Don’t be scared. You are free to come and say hello.[/i][/b][/center]

There. That was plenty enough. Probably wouldn’t garner a pleasant reaction, but… he felt like trying. He turned his head and camera back towards the young woman seated on the bench. [color=gray]“I-I-I’m sorry, I was… lost, in, in thought, just now…”[/color] He said. And it was at this point that he recalled the fact that she knew [i]his[/i] name, but he had not the faintest idea what [i]hers[/i] was.

[color=gray]“Wh-…”[/color] He asked in his usual, meager voice, [color=gray]“W-what’s your... uh, name?”[/color]
[hr]
[@Mr Allen J]
[@Heathen]