Re: Log, Webster's Vinyl: Daniel W & Newt P
Wizards tended to lag in 'technologies,' so to speak, so they, as a society, were still offering clothing on a made-to-measure scale. Spells and charms could do much, but the industrial level of creation was either uninteresting to wizardkind or beyond it. Newt's coat, in particular, was bespoke, as were his trousers. Both, however, were about a decade old, darned and patched and otherwise repaired, as they were oft-worn and oft-torn. The fabrics used were old-fashioned by Muggle standards, as well.—But, as a seemingly Muggle child, Newt had been dressed in a more typical fashion by his parents. Up until the time he could choose for himself, he'd even on occasion worn jeans.
He didn't figure himself for a puzzle, however. By contrast, the man actually felt he was fairly predictable, as a train set in its tracks. That he should be thought of otherwise would've been fine by him, had he known. As he didn't, he simply sat in the kitchen and peered tangentially at Daniel as he went about undoing the buttons at his throat and the top of his chest.
Newt was not, in fact, stunned by the irritation in Daniel's voice. He gave the slightest quirk of a smile and let his hands fall disquietly to his lap. "So sorry." Of course it would make sense that such actions were distracting. Were he hungry and speaking to, say, a steak, likely he would find it a touch difficult to carry on whilst it was dressing itself in sauce. Still, there was some cheek in the action when Newt re-threaded the last button undone, before once again allowing fidgeting fingers take to each other atop thighs.
He did feel he ought offer some truth to Daniel, who'd kindly agreed to let him come over, though he certainly hadn't had to. Newt sighed. "I was seeing a man, a friend. We've officially called it off. That's all. You truly needn't worry."