[the sense is one of a tightly-closed door, a locked file cabinet, everything swept under the rug and neatly tidied -- impossible to critique, nothing to catch the eye, deliberately unobtrusive. and that's exactly what draws koby's attention so keenly, because when people aren't watching everything they say and do, when they aren't measuring out every movement, every word, they tend to be messy. emotion, thought, sensation, it all bleeds out into that unseen ambient noise koby's become accustomed to over the last few months.
from silco, though -- nothing. no giveaways. the polar opposite of jinx's vivid, vibrant presence, like an explosion. it prompts more questions than it answers, seeing the man in person, watching him sit. koby's never been able to pass up that locked door, that closed cabinet, not when he could crouch and listen in, not when he could puzzle out the lock and fill his wondering, searching mind with answers.
there's a faint spark in his eyes that he hides by ducking his head, watching instead lincoln's subdued reaction to the offered hand -- a fowlish nibble at silco's palm, an unbothered wek, then settling back into her nest. koby huffs out a laugh, gathering together the neatly-typed notes, making sure the paper clips are still cleanly separating each appendix.]
No, though we have a den-den from home. Lincoln was a prize for a pumpkin hunt, back in the autumn. She's been a good friend. [a peek, sideways, watching silco with that same curious spark.] I'm not sure how much Jinx has told you, about the strange things that happen here? The -- different events and cyclical nature of the calendar?
no subject
from silco, though -- nothing. no giveaways. the polar opposite of jinx's vivid, vibrant presence, like an explosion. it prompts more questions than it answers, seeing the man in person, watching him sit. koby's never been able to pass up that locked door, that closed cabinet, not when he could crouch and listen in, not when he could puzzle out the lock and fill his wondering, searching mind with answers.
there's a faint spark in his eyes that he hides by ducking his head, watching instead lincoln's subdued reaction to the offered hand -- a fowlish nibble at silco's palm, an unbothered wek, then settling back into her nest. koby huffs out a laugh, gathering together the neatly-typed notes, making sure the paper clips are still cleanly separating each appendix.]
No, though we have a den-den from home. Lincoln was a prize for a pumpkin hunt, back in the autumn. She's been a good friend. [a peek, sideways, watching silco with that same curious spark.] I'm not sure how much Jinx has told you, about the strange things that happen here? The -- different events and cyclical nature of the calendar?