( is he sure what this is all about? no, not really. it's certainly exciting. also confusing. until roughly yesterday, he hadn't known about things like the colour blue, or something called a horse. in fact he's still not sure he knows of either of these things, except he remembers something about them, and he's a little disappointed when he looks around and finds that his eyes are a startling grey in the mirror. he's very certain, out of nowhere, they should be green.

then he found the forget-me-nots. yes, the flower for their illustrious city. the one you're not supposed to pick?

yeah. he's holding a few semi-wilting flowers in hand as he sits across the interview table from you. yes, you. he's pleasantly confused, which is to say he's confused as to how spinning a wheel (exciting!) and being accosted by strangers (alarmingish?) and dragged into a job interview (amazing!) all in short order has his head spinning and him smiling at the person sitting across from him. )

Hello! I'm Reynir. This is a pretty clean place, isn't it? I really admire that.

( he may, or he may not (but he does, don't mistake this), he's just also prone to start rambling without the indication that he should stop talking. )

So is this the part where you ask me questions? I'm not really sure I understand what I'm interviewing for... but I'm pretty sure I can manage something related to this!

( he has no idea what "this" is. which job are you interviewing him for, anyway? )

( luck! what is luck? Luck is managing to not hurt himself sliding down the vortex of NOTHING that had swallowed the streets of apparassage. what a very distressing dream? it's probably a dream. he's taking it in stride with a sort of thin veneer of "okay, this is okay," mostly manifesting as resolutely climbing up a ladder. or a chute. he's pretty equal opportunity here.

or he's doggedly hanging on and grunting as his feet slide out from under him and he's holding on with sheer determination and saying, audibly: )

I've got this! Just a little... further...!

( he's not even halfway up, and there is, for some reason, a kitten in the hood of his hoodie. a tiny pink nose pops out and tiny ears and eyes criminally large and adorable for the size of its face regard anyone passing by, the kitten is judging the person carrying them.

as Reynir starts sliding back down this chute... you may want to join in the judging. or lend a hand. or laugh. or climb on. we're all equal losers here! )

( Reynir isn't stupid. he's an idealist, not always in helpful ways, and he trusts his instincts more than perhaps he should. except they tend to steer him not to the worst possible ends. his instincts got him here to Recolle! this has been one of the biggest, best experiences of his life. getting off the farm (he loves his parents, and his siblings, but he wanted exciting adventures like they had for himself, too! there's such a big world out there, and a little... major allergic reaction to peanuts wasn't going to stop him! ... so there!) and into the city has been one adventure after another.

except now he's staring at his phone and feeling like a fool because he has no idea how to answer the questions it keeps asking. he is, however, getting really familiar with the uplifting message retrospec plays after every incorrect answer. which may be why he's sitting on the steps of the library, singing: )

Never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you...

( softly while attempting to answer the following question: What is believed to be created when a star collapses? )

What is believed to be created when a star collapses... more space?

( no. he knows that isn't the answer, which is why he doesn't type it in, frowning instead. )