Solo Log: Meeting the Parent

**Summer 71, 501 AOV**

"I want to tell you about something, but…" Hoya hesitates, uncertain, wringing her small hands in her lap. In the past, people found out about her companion as an accident. Xambria adding to conversation with the others on the Avery Coast rail, or appearing briefly to dispel Vihan's spell underneath Flint while they'd been trying to disarm the bomb. Now able to properly introduce her...she's not exactly sure how.

"But?"

Tinker, who was previously still fiddling with a set of gears as they talked, stuffed them into his pocket to give her his undivided attention. He tries not to think too much on her anxious expression.

"You have to promise to keep it secret."

A single raised eyebrow. "Okay?"

Hands so tightly twisted together her knuckles have blanched white, she shifts her eyes away from his. "And p-promise you won't think I'm crazy."

The stuttering, again. Tinker swallows the frown before she can notice it; he's more than aware of Hoya's nervous stuttering and of not exacerbating it. Solemnly: "I've never thought you were crazy."

She considers him for another long moment before she answers. "Then, I want you to meet Xambria."

In his defense, he has no idea what he's supposed to be looking for. His eyes flick to the door, expecting a newcomer or at least a knock, but none comes. When this proves fruitless he glances to the window as if he might find something there, but when that similarly turns up nothing he looks back to Hoya, perplexed. "I don't think I under….stand….."

During the few seconds his eyes were elsewhere, something had unquestionably changed in the gnome seated before him. She's still tiny, her hair still pinned up in an intricate collection of braids, her hands still folded tightly in her lap--she's still Hoya-shaped, just as she was thirty seconds ago. And yet the set of her shoulders, the curve of her smile, the thoughtful look of her eyes--those are all *different*.

"Now I'm sure I don't understand."

The familiar-face-wearing stranger smiles, friendly and amused and completely changed from the smile he knows, and extends a hand. "Xambria Meredith. I met Hoya just under a year ago."

It's the same voice, but her tone, her cadence, is all wrong. He blinks owlishly at her, obviously confused.

"Were it not for her help, I wouldn't be here now. I owe her my life. A creature from another plane was inhabiting my body so he could accomplish tasks in Flint. When he left, I..."

It's a little funny, the way Tinker's mouth is hanging just slightly slack, trying and failing to grasp the right words. He starts to say something, stops, and reconsiders. He takes her hand automatically to shake, still staring.

"Are you telling me that there are *two* of you in there, right now?"

After the long measure of silence from him, Xambria can't help but laugh. Getting right to the heart of the matter. She shouldn't be surprised. "You could say that. I'm...effectively a visitor. Borrowing a place to stay."

Tinker wipes his hands, approaching her and very abruptly taking her face in his palms as he turns her head to and fro. Despite the intensity of his gaze, he manages to move her gently, not jerking her from side to side. "That's…*remarkable*."

He tips Hoya's (Xambria's? Their shared?) head upwards, examining curiously. "I knew something was different. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak--it's subtle, yet completely different at the same time."

"We've been sharing since the day of the Gala last fall," Hoya chirps. The shift in tone to something so distinctly hers is enough that Tinker stops in his examining to stare outright.

*"Fascinating."*

"Yes, well, I'm glad you're curious, but if you would be so kind as to stop that," Xambria interjects, stepping away from the other gnome's hands and putting more than arms-reach worth of space between them. "It's nice to meet you properly. We don't get to do this often, and Hoya insisted."

He tilts his head, thoughtful, and begins to reach for them again before stopping abruptly. "You said you're sharing?"

She nods, and once again the figure before him is familiar instead of foreign. Hoya leans closer to him, her hands folded and brows furrowed, a look of concern on her face. "We--well, y-yeah. We share. But, um...well, I asked C-Cleone for help before too. It's--Xi--she's been really nice about everything, b-but sharing--"

"She means to ask you if you would be willing to work with Cleone on constructing a body."

*(I was getting there!)*

*(Of course, you would've gotten there. Some time next week.)*

Tinker beams. A project that would push the boundaries of known mechanics, and that would actually be for someone's betterment. He doesn't regret the boys, the time he spent creating the teens and their extraordinarily oversized brother. They are marvels of engineering, with structural and functional  intricacies previously unheard of. But the cause they were built for was...likely questionable, at best. A knowledge he was never given, but should have anticipated, and thus a truth he'd ignored.

But he had read about the archaeologist in the paper. Brilliant, working at a dig site in the Bayou when catastrophe struck. Seemingly insane in the aftermath, attacking civilians at the Pardwright Gala, and collapsed beneath RHC headquarters where she was found dead after the earthquakes that shook the city. The story tied everything up neatly, but somehow it had always seemed just a little bit too neat. A little bit too perfect. Her presence here, and explanation now...suddenly it all makes perfect sense.

And he trusts Hoya, implicitly. If she's allowed Xambria in, allowed her to stay for so long, allows her to take control? It's a worthy cause. Not to mention, he noticed the slip of the nickname. And the dilated pupils, the tremor of her ordinarily very steady hands, the very faint flush of her cheeks. He has always worried Hoya would end up like him: always traveling, always alone.

Now, he's not so concerned.

"I would *love* to help."