Re: log: adrian and ren
"Really?" That was a surprise. It might be prejudice that made him wonder that anyone lodged in Repose had traveled abroad, or just memories of growing up here. It was a small town with a lower-case s, the type of place people fled, or stayed, but only rarely returned to or came to later in life. Ren appeared to be one of the few, as was he.
He stood for a moment at the edge of the counter, calculating his next move for a few studious seconds as Ren grabbed his rag and flipped on the hot water machine. The calculations resulted in movement - he slid sideways and into a chair at the counter's edge. Better than standing around as if he didn't know where to be. "I am back here," he said. "I work in the facility." One of the only things in town that actually brought people in, as it happened. It wasn't quite the town business, but it had to come close, considering how many residents it employed. Still, most would have preferred to live in the Capital over the middle of nowhere.
He thought the answer to his question was a sound one. He wasn't hoping to be impressed, just to hear someone else's story. He wanted to be outside his head right now. He wanted to not be thinking. And he was genuinely curious whenever he met anyone who had migrated to Repose - what was the appeal for an outsider, with no history here? "What authors do you know?" he asked. "Or like, I mean. I don't read much. Mostly nonfiction."
He didn't immediately realize that the hand extended was reaching for the mug, and he looked at it for a moment, wondering if the belated awkward handshake had finally arrived. "Oh," he said, and passed the mug over. The embarrassment didn't even penetrate.
He wasn't exactly the most socially adept human being in the world, but even he knew that 'a change of pace' typically implied a lot of history, often ugly. "I wasn't reading it," he said. He began sorting the packets of sugar and sweetener in dish on the table - collecting like packets together, then placing them back inside by size. "I just wanted to look like I had a reason to be here." He looked up at Ren, marking any reaction to the comment, then back to the work of sorting.
When the packets were all organized and tucked away, he began straightening the rest of the table - a little candle pushed to the middle with the sweetener, a misplaced book on the chair beside him closed and placed neatly at the table's edge. "You should tell me why you needed a change of pace," he said. He didn't look up this time. He didn't quite know where the request came from. He was often blunt, but not usually forward. "As a story, if you like."