preston rawlings, psychic accountant (ex_clerk820) wrote in rooms,
Re: Kitchen & Faol.
[Preston flinched at the word 'mutant,' hard and visible. He hated being labeled as something other, finding it deeply oppressive in a way that got down under his skin with hard truth and soured his stomach. As was his way, he did not say anything out loud about it. He poured his own coffee into a generic mug with no label, as boring as possible, and sat down on a stool against the island in the center of the kitchen.] Are you making fun of what I'm wearing, Faol? [Preston smiled. His clothes were not what was troubling him.]