Re: Registration: Eddie N & Reece E
If there were similarities between Cat and her friend, um, Reece didn't see them. Everyone shrugged and everyone emphasized things, regardless of particular necessity, and he was very aware that everyone was smoother than he was, speaking generally. So, to his eyes—both of them—, Eddie and Cat appeared as different and alike as everyone else was in relation to one another. Then again, Reece wasn't looking for likeness. Perhaps, if he had been, he would've found dots to connect. Instead, he just saw a very compact (oldish?) man in a non-compact hat and ostentatious suit, and none of that called to mind a tall, well... well-endowed, well-dressed woman with a voice like a purr, and boots that were perpetually classy. They did both however feel older than they looked to Reece, and he wasn't sure what to make of that, other than New Jersey likely sucked when it came to childhood as much as it did adulthood?
He gave a sallow, nervous laugh at the idea of eggs going place, because he was an idiot and imagined them in cars. "Yeah." He nervously pet at his own hair again.—Then came the rather scathing introduction to Repose's intentions and Reece...—well, he dumped his wine out of the mug and into the grass, where it soaked bittersweet burgundy into grass. It still smelled nice though.
It was just getting harder to admire the fragrance of cloves and ginger when Reece didn't want everything on the table, as Eddie suggested. Everything on the table was too much on the table. The table would... it would collapse, its legs never meant to handle so much at once, and what would that get them? A frisson of worry contracted between blond brows, etched itself into youthful features as the taller man anticipated what everything was in this particular situation. He found himself vaguely concerned Cat had said something to this small ringmaster about him and the flush of warmth the wine had given him left him, blood cooling in his veins. Reece cleared his throat. He tugged on his collar, unthinkingly.—But, no. Relief! But, then death. He cringed, almost imperceptibly at the 'kill us' part, unsure, and not particularly relishing in the fact that a town was plotting his death, so to speak—psychological or otherwise. The appropriated Vegas slogan almost felt farcical in comparison.
"Yeah. Can we just, like, not die? Please?" Reece looked down at Eddie with a small frown—a frown that faltered as the smaller man stared up at him, and he knew it was about the eye. This always happened.—Stupidly, he found himself blushing and bumbling at Eddie's words and eyebrows. Good-humored and embarrassed, he only managed, "Stop it." He tried to start them walking, but he tripped over his own feet once, before deciding he'd just follow his partner's lead. Biometric hand and normal hand both tugged at his sweater, smoothing it, as he tried to act like he hadn't just done what he'd done. "Oh, ah—You have? Who... had... one?" Suddenly very aware of his eye, Reece was blinking too much. The eye lit up a coolant blue and opened from the pupil. The world opened into menus, code, and information. "It can do... well, pretty much anything. That... eyes and computers can do." He laughed to himself. On surer footing, he spread his arms confidently. "Ask me anything. If it's on the internet or in a database, I can find it."