The space-denizen Johny Cuba would often be found slouched on a stool, pushing his burly shoulders against the moderate G force of a sticky bar surface, in a drinking establishment with a name leaving little doubt of its customary clientele. Barely moving, and gazing through narrow slits framed by heavily folded eyelids, one could make the assumption that here was another soul lost in oblivion, but that would be a mistake, because Jonny Cuba missed nothing.
He noticed immediately the then-unknown Aegidian as he shyly entered through the door, awkwardly clutching a computer interface and some paper folders, and attempting to orient himself to the unfamiliar setting before courteously making his way to a little table in the back. Though nobody had seen him move, Jonny Cuba was sat at the adjacent table, in the same motionless posture, his eyes, one could barely perceive, fixed to the side of his narrow slits, closely observing the newcomer.
Henceforth he would always be there, when the young techie Aegidian leaned back from his terminal and looked over one of his shoulders, this expressionless mystery man was present, impossible to say with certainty, but most likely studying him closely. Somehow he grew to feel this man was in tune to the work on his screen. A sigh, or a growl, for example, could be heard at moments when its timing relative to the events of his keystrokes seemed too fitting to be coincidental. And then, at the moment of a successful completion on his interface, he would hear in a low deep rumble, "Mmm, good."
And so it was, that while Aegidian never had a sense of to what degree the hulking presence nearby had any comprehension of his work, he found comfort in the grunts of approval, and eventually came to think of him as an essential muse.