Okay.

Okay, so- females, in general, were not alarming to him. Coming from a city of many cultures; a veritable melting pot of ethnicity, if one cared to consider it as such, Hiro was used to plenty of things. Fashion statements galore; languages and accents so thick interpreting them took ten minutes of hardcore charades. Cultural divides, he gets. Differences in appearance, that's totally fine.

Small, transparent dragon-looking things? Not quite falling under the same category. At all. Hiro's first instinct is to call fake, but the closer he looks, the less that seems likely. Those aren't super-spectral cameras focusing in on him, those were eyes. He was having difficulty hearing the usual click or hiss of machinery in motion because there was none. She has a dragon on her shoulder.

She has a dragon on her shoulder. Hiro stares at it, slack jawed, then to the smiling face. Back to the dragon.

"...Hello?" His life and his choices; those are going to have to start coming under serious question, after today. "Maybe I hit my head."

That sounds rational.