Rogan realised with an absent thought that he wasn't really getting any further work or research done any more, focused as he was on his navigator's journey. The midday sun was beating down hard, and heat mirages drifted up above the nearby beach, making the rolling blue waves beyond shimmer. From his comfortably sheltered cafe repose, he looked around at the constant stream of milling people moving in every direction, heading to any number of attractions – the white sands, the bustling theme park, the colourful shops or the mildly exotic eateries and cafes, much like this one. Even with the breeze, the baking heat was making his long-sleeved clothes feel stifling... but somehow he did feel like shorts and a singlet, as seemed to be the more common attire, would really suite him. Oh well.
Glancing down again, he listened with a careful ear as Lyntael and her former sparing partner made sure they were each alright. His attention piqued more prominently as they spoke about giving her a new outfit of some special construction, and Rogan's immediate instinct was to groan internally and wonder just how inappropriate and indecent it would end up being – because of course it would, wouldn't it?
He watched the exchange and then immediately started a quarantine scan as the data was presented to his navi; as much as some of the embedded subroutines were almost certainly harmless diagnostic reporters, Rogan removed them anyway – even harmless diagnostics from feedback for a whole outfit could potentially carry information about Lyntael's unique situation that couldn't be allowed out into places where it could be potentially found by unfriendly eyes.
By the time he was finished, he could tell that Lyntael was already very eager to put the outfit on, which, given her state of undress he was not about to delay any further. He felt an involuntary twitch threaten at one eyebrow as the girl decided that it would, apparently, be most sensible to remove her own underwear entirely before putting the new clothes on. It was a body suite, yes, but surely that wasn't necessary...
Once she was dressed he had to draw her attention again as she set its colouration – apparently unaware that she'd pulled it down to complete transparency while adjusting. The other navi, thankfully, was showing no interest in watching her dress, but Rogan really had to wonder what the explanation for these nigh on predictable difficulties could possibly be. The suit itself looked more like fetish wear than an outfit, in his personal opinion – a fact he was depressingly unsurprised about... though it was better than nothing.
Distantly, he hoped that he might prevail upon the girl to call it a day, but the gift of a new outfit – no matter how not-really-decent he personally felt it was, seemed to galvanise her to push on and Rogan heard himself sigh as she pressed him for new directions. Every time he thought it was safe enough to look at his navi on the screen, his eye would inevitably be pulled to a curve or a groove, mapped in skin-tight detail by her new outfit as she moved, and he would end up feeling like a pervert again. He gave the directions all the same, but as Lyntael chatted on about her choice of paths, a comment from her surprised him slightly... was she actually unaware that she was the one responsible for creating the odd weather patterns around her? He cleared his throat.
“I'm not sure if you were paying attention, Lyntael, but I suspect that might actually have something to do with you. As far as I'm aware, even the more deprecated sections of the network aren't quite that prone to sudden dramatically timed storms.” He'd pitched the remark in good humour, but her reaction as she stopped and looked skyward, apparently lost in thought on the matter, told him that she truly hadn't realised before now. Just another peculiar thing about his peculiar navi, he had to suppose. He focused on her expression as she looked to the sky, and the way she closed her eyes, listening to unseen senses. His eyes drifted down to the top of her chest, and the place where her emblem had once rested, identifying her as a netnavi to any who looked. Now it was gone, and she remained. Not for the first time recently, Rogan wondered just who and what the young girl before him truly was now.