grace and rocky get to erid and both of them are hitting every eridian squarely in the uncanny valley because they've both absorbed so much of each other that they feel both too eridian and not eridian enogh. rocky faces in the direction he's paying attention to and it feels like he's trying to hide something, the way he and only he of the eridians seems to always be showing the same face of his carapace when he speaks to somebody. he speaks in metaphors that only make sense to somebody who understands light-based vision. his intonations are funny, rising on questions when they otherwise wouldn't, falling flat, his sarcasm goes to space dry and restrained and comes back with such force it almost feels like he's lying instead of joking sometimes.
and grace who is so alien, but reflects eridian mannerisms that they've never considered strange before but coming from a creature so soft and strange, it just doesn't feel right. grace who stomps his foot twice when he asks a question, and it rings out flat and dull instead of the strong, sharp sound of an eridian hand on the ground. grace whose voice is so alien, so one-note, so full of articulations that are sharp and round and everywhere in between, but who echoes the melodies of eridian poetry and music, sometimes on accident but sometimes perfectly in time with what rocky translates him as saying, and later, perfectly in time with his keyboard.
rocky and grace who mirror each other more similarly than they mirror their own cultures. who speak to each other in a strange pidgin eridian that nobody else quite understands fluently. who share jokes from movie and tv shows from earth filtered through eridian folktales, plays, and musicals until they only make sense to the two people who know both cultures. they're not strange to each other, but it puts other eridians on edge. even adrian, at first. they've changed each other, you see.
