In a city of steel and metal, Amaya's armor does not catch the eye as obviously as it did within the train, blending in the many reflections of the sun. It takes Esteban just a little longer than he would have liked to spot her, the worry of the last few days clutching at his lungs as he runs, and searches, eyes roving over the nameless faces and worried frowns. He traces the imprint she'd left behind in his thoughts, the steady kindness and comfort she'd offered him at every turn, holds onto signs that are just a little more special, the first signs that he had learned and had come to associate with her.
A closed fist, thumb tapping to his lips. The grasp curling in front of his chest. The parallel swipes to mark a person.
Secret-Keeper.
Amaya.
There are still so many things he wants to share with her, and he misses her, and so much of him is relieved to be able to reach out to the people he cares for, wanting them safe and sound and back. It makes him selfish, really, but he'd always known that, and for now-- for now he's allowed to cling to them; these treasures he's gathered to his hoard. So when he spots her, Esteban does not hold back.
"Amaya!" The call bursts out from him even knowing it's not helpful, but there is too much relief for him to hold it back. He waves his entire arm back and forth to bring her attention to him, and when he reaches her, Esteban rushes in to hug her tight and hard and quickly, backing away to free up her arms and hand after just a quick, quick second.
{How are you?} he signs quickly, trying to look concerned, but there is such sheer relief in his eyes that it barely shows appropriately.
{You-hurt-where-you?} The SCA still garbles out his words as he signs, but where Amaya's SCA is far more smooth at it, gathering the meaning from the full sentence's intent, Esteban's are still a little broken, a literal translation rather than a fluent one.
It's only after he's asked that he realizes she has a companion at all, turning to glance at the siren with slight confusion before he somewhat recognizes her. They've never spoken outright before, but he's seen her around the train, and that prompts him to grin, beaming at having found not only one, but two of their missing crewmates.
Sorry to hear it .__. Hope things settle down for you soon!
A closed fist, thumb tapping to his lips. The grasp curling in front of his chest. The parallel swipes to mark a person.
Secret-Keeper.
Amaya.
There are still so many things he wants to share with her, and he misses her, and so much of him is relieved to be able to reach out to the people he cares for, wanting them safe and sound and back. It makes him selfish, really, but he'd always known that, and for now-- for now he's allowed to cling to them; these treasures he's gathered to his hoard. So when he spots her, Esteban does not hold back.
"Amaya!" The call bursts out from him even knowing it's not helpful, but there is too much relief for him to hold it back. He waves his entire arm back and forth to bring her attention to him, and when he reaches her, Esteban rushes in to hug her tight and hard and quickly, backing away to free up her arms and hand after just a quick, quick second.
{How are you?} he signs quickly, trying to look concerned, but there is such sheer relief in his eyes that it barely shows appropriately.
{You-hurt-where-you?} The SCA still garbles out his words as he signs, but where Amaya's SCA is far more smooth at it, gathering the meaning from the full sentence's intent, Esteban's are still a little broken, a literal translation rather than a fluent one.
It's only after he's asked that he realizes she has a companion at all, turning to glance at the siren with slight confusion before he somewhat recognizes her. They've never spoken outright before, but he's seen her around the train, and that prompts him to grin, beaming at having found not only one, but two of their missing crewmates.
"Oh! Nice t' meetcha! I'm Esteban!"