[ For someone who woke up looking into the cold face of a corpse, Eyes appears to be calm, almost eerily so as he slowly rises to better sitting position. Sharp eyes slowly scan his surroundings, and it doesn't escape him that there is someone else here even if he seems to not acknowledge that other presence. For all he knew, it could be just as dead as the body.
For a moment he touches the area of his heart and presses down upon it tentatively, holding his hand over the still dark and wet area in silence. Then, apparently satisfied with whatever it was he had just done, he... proceeds to hover over the body, clearly not disturbed by being so close to it. If the way he runs his fingers along the clothing is any indication, he's not afraid to touch it either.
Hopefully the other person in the room wouldn't be too prudent about his behaviour, because he doesn't particularly care at the moment as he rummages through the clothing. What mattered most was finding answers. ]
hope; one
[ There was no secret about it; his eating habits were abysmal, and too often the musician would forget to eat unless some more observant soul were to remind him. But he did have his moments, and what an absolute coincidence it was that he happened to pass by a store that seemed to have food he would favour more.
... Except the door is locked. Now, he isn't going to be breaking windows or anything, but look at this helpful fellow passing along. Just a moment, he wants to ask you a question. ]
If I were to use a switchblade to break this glass, how long do you think it would take? [ Call it rhetorical. ]
eyes rutherford | spiral: the bonds of reasoning.
[ For someone who woke up looking into the cold face of a corpse, Eyes appears to be calm, almost eerily so as he slowly rises to better sitting position. Sharp eyes slowly scan his surroundings, and it doesn't escape him that there is someone else here even if he seems to not acknowledge that other presence. For all he knew, it could be just as dead as the body.
For a moment he touches the area of his heart and presses down upon it tentatively, holding his hand over the still dark and wet area in silence. Then, apparently satisfied with whatever it was he had just done, he... proceeds to hover over the body, clearly not disturbed by being so close to it. If the way he runs his fingers along the clothing is any indication, he's not afraid to touch it either.
Hopefully the other person in the room wouldn't be too prudent about his behaviour, because he doesn't particularly care at the moment as he rummages through the clothing. What mattered most was finding answers. ]
hope; one
[ There was no secret about it; his eating habits were abysmal, and too often the musician would forget to eat unless some more observant soul were to remind him. But he did have his moments, and what an absolute coincidence it was that he happened to pass by a store that seemed to have food he would favour more.
... Except the door is locked. Now, he isn't going to be breaking windows or anything, but look at this helpful fellow passing along. Just a moment, he wants to ask you a question. ]
If I were to use a switchblade to break this glass, how long do you think it would take? [ Call it rhetorical. ]