Xellos: Other
Xel comes in to work one day early in the month with a thick black leather bracer under his shirt, wrist to elbow, moving as through peanut butter. The rate at which he puts dishes together is as fast as ever, although he doesn't seem to be moving much. Unblinking and taciturn, his pupils blur-edged rather than shifting, he replies politely when spoken to, and stands there, and watches the candles on the tables, and burns cigarettes like incense under the counter, and stands there with a vague and distant little smile, and when the lights go out for the day and everyone goes home, he stands there, and lights a new cigarette and a new candle, and absently squeezes his bracer from time to time in the silence until the blood runs down his jeans. The sun rises: wash, rinse, change of shirt, smile vaguely at a surprised Ivonka who doesn't expect to see him on her shift, repeat.