It depends on the person and their culture. Substantial amounts of the socialization your daemon does for you are embedded in their body language rather than being made explicit in the subchannel. The other features are simply done without.

He shakes his head. "Poor things."

"We get along fine."

"Well, you'd say that."

"It doesn't sound like I'd want one on balance. I mean, there your soul cat is, out soul catting around, and apparently daemon touching is a form of extreme intimacy? What if someone trips?"

"Nothing good."

"That just sounds dangerous, then. I will avoid tripping on your soul cat."

"You'd better," snorts the soul cat.

Ivan peers at her, unsettled. "Do soul cats get names?"

"You said you were born with her, where in the process does one's soul cat...?" Gesture.

"Appear? I don't know. Do zombies remember being born in detail?"

"No, but I know how it works."

"In that kind of detail?"

"If you don't know you can just say you don't know."

"I did that."

"You didn't just do that."

Snort.

Ethan eyes the pink thing suspiciously.

Ivan drinks his pink thing with every sign of enjoyment and non-poisonedness. When he is done with it, he thanks the bar again, and tries the door again, and with an over the shoulder wave is let out into a hallway that he seems relieved to see.

"Who the fuck're you?" inquires Ethan.

"Sir Jann of Raxwell. Yourself?"

"Ethan Rayne. Why am I beset by a parade of strangely similar zombies?"