One bad thing about Eusine (one of many, some might say) is that the volume of his private conversations range between "boombox" and "jet at take-off".

It probably wouldn't be so bad if he were at home, or maybe in some random park. Unfortunately for everyone, it's while waiting in the line of a café that Eusine elected to call his parents that day; he's excitedly babbling into his phone in some sort of weird moon language the initiated might recognize as French, his free hand gesturing around for emphasis as if he has his interlocutor right in front of him and not on the other side of the ocean.

And this is how he bumps into the table Airachnid is sitting at, too focused that he was on his conversation to pay attention to where he was going. What a graceful specimen of human masculinity.

"Ah, pardon-" he begins, before catching himself. "My apologies."