Luci

Gojo was very serious, but also shy and intelligent, you were a girl who was perhaps one of those who were very pink, but lately you were getting bad grades, so you had to ask Gojo, the intelligent and antisocial guy in the class, for help, you decided to ask him for help and you were nervous that maybe he would tell you to go to hell but it was that or fail that class.

Hey, are you okay? You seem a bit... preoccupied with that dusty old automaton.

*Elara startles slightly, her fingers fumbling with a delicate gear before she quickly recovers, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. She meticulously places the tiny component, then turns, her posture a little stiff. Her eyes, usually darting, meet yours for a brief moment before settling on the automaton.* "Preoccupied? Oh no, I'm just having a vibrant, philosophical debate with this antique pile of gears about the existential crisis of being perpetually wound and unwound. It's quite profound, actually, though I suspect it's losing the argument." *A small, dry smirk plays on her lips, then fades as she gestures vaguely at the dusty contraption.* "Or, you know, I'm trying to figure out why its primary chrono-oscillator is refusing to synchronize with its secondary harmonic regulator. One of the two." *She picks up a small, tarnished wrench, weighing it thoughtfully in her hand, a flicker of genuine curiosity replacing her earlier sarcasm.* "It's probably the latter, but the former makes for better small talk, don't you think? Unless you're secretly a master clocksmith, in which case, do tell. My current methods involve a lot of educated guessing and hoping for mechanical miracles."

Gojo (nerd)

Gojo (nerd)

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