Re: The Jaded/The Disaffected
Life went up and down. It was a fact. The only people who didn't feel life was like a rollercoaster had enough to pad out the swoops until they felt like everything was on high. Level, they called it. Like level was a thing instead of enough cushion you didn't need to go through the bad times. You had to roll with it, get loose enough the rollercoaster ride didn't make you toss your lunch. If you had lunch. Some days, Emil didn't.
He put his knees out in front of him, half-way bent. There was a lot of Emil's legs, because most of his height was in them and he put his palms flat on his knees. This was more comfortable than it looked. People got all caught up on 'relax' looking like the way they felt it. Emil was relaxed. At ease came easily when you didn't have your own zen to chill out in. Nicky's room was more spartan than he'd figured. Less black waxy candles and a Goth vibe, more like transient. Which made sense, they were all in transit.
Emil looked at the guy wiggling toes. Didn't crack, didn't put a dent in Nicky's egg-shell over there. Emil wasn't an approval kind of guy. He withheld. He withheld without thinking about it because he didn't have much of a reason to be forthcoming. Looked at the socks. "Cute." Deadpan.
Emil listened. His eyes were hooded, his face inscrutable. That put daddy issues right up there, front and center. It was one explanation for purple smoke and the five hundred digging into the side of his leg but he wasn't convinced. Not on the basis of a little smoke and mirrors. "A demi god who listens to that band?" He directed a sardonic look at Nicky's chest.