It's pretty. And strange - almost everything about local technology seems so different from what he's used to. He instinctively tries not to touch anything.

She lets him look around for a bit, and then starts demonstrating things: the sink, the stovetop, a little hover-motor she recently refurbished.

Huh. He doesn't know much about this sort of thing, but it almost seems like - like this world developed all its technology in completely different ways from his, so they have a lot of the same things and a lot of different things and even the similar things don't work quite the same way...

Seems plausible.

Is anything particularly catching his interest?

He's not much of a gadgets person, so most of the things are just... sort of there. But the decor is pretty. And it's good to know how the kitchen things work here.

Okay, well, in that case...

She opens the door to the back room, which is her bedroom, and has a much higher concentration of pretty things - to the point of being a bit overwhelming, in fact. Not quite every inch of wall is host to a sculpture or framed poem or what have you, but most of them, and a good portion of the ceiling as well. The shelves beside the bed house a mixture of artwork - small paintings and framed photographs, statuettes, soft sculpture - practical (but still pretty) things, decorated boxes, and mystery items, like the collection of black hand-sized discs in one of the boxes. Even the bed - which takes up almost the entire room - is decorated with glittering embroidery on its dark grey quilt. (The pillows from the front room would look just at home here, too.)

Wow. That is a really pretty room.

Yeah.

She sits on the bed to retrieve a small painting from the shelves, a forest landscape. "Painting," she identifies, and then mimes the act. "Sora painting?"

Is she asking if he paints? No, he doesn't. He never managed to learn. He's much better with art in three dimensions; he does little ice sculptures sometimes, although he's not great at those either, yet.

"Ah." She puts the painting back and takes a small metal sculpture down from the wall to illustrate the word. "Pradnakt sculpture. Sora sculpture?"

He nods. Not metal, though; he works in ice, with waterbending. It's easier than most other things. (A half-formed thought of alternative media, which he flinches away from in something like embarrassment.)

Hmm, okay. Ice isn't at all easy to keep, out here, but she might be able to figure out something that'll fit in her generator's capacity. Or get a second generator, if it comes to it.

Anyway. Similarly: poetry?

Poetry can be nice, but he is not personally any good at it.

Yeah.

She looks around the room for more potential things - embroidery's probably not dimensional enough, and neither is calligraphy... photography, maybe? She has... well... she has a couple of landscape photographs on the shelves, but if he's not familiar with the tech that might just confuse him; instead she rifles around in a box and comes up with a picture of Daisy, with a few scarlike chassis patches instead of her flowers, in a small spaceship's lounge, apparently just having been interrupted from reading something on a datapad.

Oh, hm, photography. He's never tried that.

Nod. "Okay."

That seems to be it in here - "Sora want more?" Does he want to go see more things, see if any of them suit him?