“You can smell it on me?” Jim doesn’t deny that he isn’t of Felix’s world. Not here, he has no reason to hide his identity within the Nexus. But he’s shocked that Paarthurnax can tell so easily by scent alone that Jim isn’t of the same world. And yet it’s true. Ground into him are smells nothing like Tamriel. The faintest whiffs of coolants, the nearly sterile smell that air scrubbers leave in their wake, of artificial chemicals that make up his soaps, of coffee. And utterly lacking are the scents of any kind of magic save for the band around his finger. Jim casts a glance toward his husband in case this was some kind of Obvious thing that Felix was well aware of this whole time. The man is a conjurer after all and his familiar knows Jim Kirk's scent all too well by now.

To a creature of scents, Jim Kirk and Felix Caelus could not be more different.

“I come from a realm that spends much of its time out in the Void. Our...our Oblivion works much differently than yours does. I think. I obviously can’t bring my ship to Tamriel to test the theory.” Jim rubs at the back of his neck slowly while he talks. He’s acutely aware that all of his theories are mere guesses at this point in time. It’s so hard to test any of them on Nirn without causing some sort of mass panic.

“But this place is between realms too. I suppose it’s not so surprising I would be of a different Plane.”