( a perfectly bland reaction. it's to be expected, because the majority of the crowd doesn't seem to know her here, and even so — this young man doesn't seem the type to be a fan.
still. it's a relatively novel experience to be watched like this, with his face kept so impassive, shockingly still even with the marked burst of smoke that might have meant that he had just held his breath. it blows a small amount of it in the direction of her face, all warm and bitter and acrid, and before she can debate if it's worth it to look below surface-level for some real emotion, he's already up and out of his seat.
hardly any reaction at all, and that could be boring. it could mean that he's so wrapped up in protocol, that even something like this is just another task to check off of some to-do list. it's business, it makes it easy, and so robin hums some lilting note that may not quite be assent. )
Alright then. I suppose this means we'll be perfectly boring together.
( as for her charm and dignity... well, the sad, dark, mottled heap that was once her disguise is all tangled up on the thin carpet where she unduly... steps onto it, as she gets off the stool. arguably she doesn't have much of either, either.
but he affords her some dignity of not commenting on it, at least, and commits to the very serious duty that is his burden to bear. the straight lines of his suit present so severe, he looks ridiculous with something bright pink in hand, holding it in no certain way, and yet it springs to mind some battle-ready stance, how someone might hold a weapon, a blade.
a stark contrast to the kindness he still thinks to offer, and robin blinks to look at the full tray on the countertop, considering— )
no subject
still. it's a relatively novel experience to be watched like this, with his face kept so impassive, shockingly still even with the marked burst of smoke that might have meant that he had just held his breath. it blows a small amount of it in the direction of her face, all warm and bitter and acrid, and before she can debate if it's worth it to look below surface-level for some real emotion, he's already up and out of his seat.
hardly any reaction at all, and that could be boring. it could mean that he's so wrapped up in protocol, that even something like this is just another task to check off of some to-do list. it's business, it makes it easy, and so robin hums some lilting note that may not quite be assent. )
Alright then. I suppose this means we'll be perfectly boring together.
( as for her charm and dignity... well, the sad, dark, mottled heap that was once her disguise is all tangled up on the thin carpet where she unduly... steps onto it, as she gets off the stool. arguably she doesn't have much of either, either.
but he affords her some dignity of not commenting on it, at least, and commits to the very serious duty that is his burden to bear. the straight lines of his suit present so severe, he looks ridiculous with something bright pink in hand, holding it in no certain way, and yet it springs to mind some battle-ready stance, how someone might hold a weapon, a blade.
a stark contrast to the kindness he still thinks to offer, and robin blinks to look at the full tray on the countertop, considering— )