12-09-2019, 03:02 PM
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]The cheetah's ears flick back in instinctive indignation. Of course Abathur would say something like that - it was all a part of the act, this game of trying to prove that Kazuhira was really just a child playing dress-up, barking orders to be followed out of pity. If he was stupid, he was easy. If he was more than just his appearances, he was dangerous.
"Ha-ha-ha," Kaz frowns, parroting back the arachnid's monotone trill. He gives an irritated flick of his tail, casting a glance over one shoulder to see if anyone else beyond Aurum would catch their banter. It's a large library, the ceilings fairly high and pathways long and winding between the rows of metal shelving.
Frankly, though, it isn't the best place to hold a get-together, and by the time others have started to crowd in he thinks he's a little claustrophobic, standing so close to Abathur's wriggling mandibles.
He wonders, distantly, if they carry the works he knew by heart. If he were to find something familiar that reminded him of home - or, he considers as a chill edges down his spine, that fraying, untranslated hardcover his mother thumbed through for him - he would never return it to its rightful shelf. It wouldn't be missed, only one book among so many others. He could feel a little less lost out here, if only for a moment. The cheetah doesn't really notice that his attention has strayed from the conversation as voices dance around him, eyes wandering up and down the book spines with a sense of lingering hope, until Roy arrives and exclaims what Kaz would consider the obvious. He remembers, then, that Abathur had been speaking to him beyond the - playful? - mocking. He isn't sure if he should apologize for losing track when others began to cut in, or simply refuse the little peace offering and walk away.
Sometimes, the game grew difficult.
"Uh - no, thanks." Kazuhira's expression eases some, its intensity lessening to something just on the brink of friendly. He looks to Moth, to the curious Roy, and tilts his head in mild question - he defaults easily back to that role he's built, a softer edge to the bossy newcomer that was yapping at them a few mornings prior. Instead, he gives a suggestion rather than an order. "Do you plan on using that information, though? I'm sure you can make yourself useful with the medical team, or teach some kind of class on the stuff."
"Ha-ha-ha," Kaz frowns, parroting back the arachnid's monotone trill. He gives an irritated flick of his tail, casting a glance over one shoulder to see if anyone else beyond Aurum would catch their banter. It's a large library, the ceilings fairly high and pathways long and winding between the rows of metal shelving.
Frankly, though, it isn't the best place to hold a get-together, and by the time others have started to crowd in he thinks he's a little claustrophobic, standing so close to Abathur's wriggling mandibles.
He wonders, distantly, if they carry the works he knew by heart. If he were to find something familiar that reminded him of home - or, he considers as a chill edges down his spine, that fraying, untranslated hardcover his mother thumbed through for him - he would never return it to its rightful shelf. It wouldn't be missed, only one book among so many others. He could feel a little less lost out here, if only for a moment. The cheetah doesn't really notice that his attention has strayed from the conversation as voices dance around him, eyes wandering up and down the book spines with a sense of lingering hope, until Roy arrives and exclaims what Kaz would consider the obvious. He remembers, then, that Abathur had been speaking to him beyond the - playful? - mocking. He isn't sure if he should apologize for losing track when others began to cut in, or simply refuse the little peace offering and walk away.
Sometimes, the game grew difficult.
"Uh - no, thanks." Kazuhira's expression eases some, its intensity lessening to something just on the brink of friendly. He looks to Moth, to the curious Roy, and tilts his head in mild question - he defaults easily back to that role he's built, a softer edge to the bossy newcomer that was yapping at them a few mornings prior. Instead, he gives a suggestion rather than an order. "Do you plan on using that information, though? I'm sure you can make yourself useful with the medical team, or teach some kind of class on the stuff."
[align=center][div style="font-size:12pt;font-family:verdana;color:#4c5461;letter-spacing:-2pt;"][i][b]—-— I GET [color=#4c5461]MEAN WHEN I'M
NERVOUS, LIKE A BAD DOG
NERVOUS, LIKE A BAD DOG