@cqckroach continued from x
Odd. That was the only word he seemed to have for this human encampment had stumbled upon. He’d not been on this continent for long-- what they had once called North America-- and hadn’t anticipated finding anything human. Magical communities-- and what few muggles they’d once saved-- seemed to be primarily in Europe. He was only here for study, nothing more.
Needless to say, finding humans here was as strange as it was quietly exciting. It meant that others had survived, somehow, and perhaps they just didn’t know (or perhaps their government hid it, he wouldn’t put it past it-- technically he was breaking hundreds of laws just being where he was). This group though was a hard bunch, it was easy enough to tell from meeting them. Quick to become defensive and quicker still to go on the offensive.
Even when he posed no outward thread to him.
The man had calmly listened when they’d brought him in. Light eyes flickering with a sort of knowing as he listened-- never quite keeping his attention on any one of them and simply surveying them. Quite clear they’d been through a lot. He was more than willing to give them the benefit of the doubt which was the precise reason the moment they turned a gun on him he simply disarmed them.
He’d even matched their shock with a cheeky, Oh, was I supposed to die? As if to lighten the mood (it did not, in fact, lighten the mood). But it’d given him enough wiggle room to try and say he wasn’t dangerous and meant no harm. That he hadn’t known they were there and was merely minding his own business-- Of course, that was met with as much skepticism as he expected. Though the warily agreed to not keep him locked up on the pretense of if he lifted so much as a finger at someone they’d shoot.
Curiosity killed the cat and he’d agreed. It would have been easy enough to apparate away, but he’s interested in a researcher’s kind of way about these people-- How they’ve survived so long, why they are so fearful, and in particular about the young man who spoke up for him. A fellow who’s got smart remarks and a wary expression, far from the center of the group. It wasn’t difficult to notice his place or the way he seemed to wear it as if it were a cloak of defiance.
It’s what leads him to the small area of the so-called dining hall where the young man is. Taking up a side of the table as he turned eyes towards the people crowding for food-- wondering if perhaps they’d trust some of the vegetables and meats he kept in his case-- before flickering his attention to the young man once more. He’d spoken before he realized it and can only offer an amused smile when Murphy answered.
“Oh, you’re planning on trying to keep me here for a week?” It’s a simple response, more tickled than anything. He’d agreed to stay for a night but if they thought they’d keep him... Well, even the magizoologist had to have a laugh at what these muggles thought. Inwardly, anyway.
He ducked his head slightly, fingers tapping against the knee of his pants as he considered what to say. “It was an observation,” he added swiftly, glancing up beneath his fringe, “but then some would say I seek trouble.” They’re not wrong, he supposes. Newt would never think his own work less but-- He was all too aware that some of the creatures he came into contact with could outpower him. It was worth it, all the same.
“From what I’ve seen here, trouble seems to find your people,” he added quietly any amusement he’d worn yet shifting to a solemness, “am I wrong?”