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Forced Interaction
Characters: Kyle and Brady
Setting: Kyle's room, 9am
The whole concept of being given a name of someone he had to go have a conversation with was really fucking stupid, but Brady wasn’t really interested in thumbing his nose at the Administration just yet. Eventually, maybe, but not quite yet. At least with the mood Kyle seemed to be, it was bound to be a short conversation. He was a little curious about what had him in pity party mode, as he knew that mindset very well, but he didn’t really care to have a heart to heart. He just wanted to get the whole thing done and over with. And so, when the clock hit nine, he left his room and went straight to room seven, hand lifting to give three firm knocks to the door.
Kyle had been expecting the call, but that didn’t mean that he had been at all looking forward to it. He didn’t want to see anyone today - no matter what certain people he knew here might have in mind. He looked and felt like a mess - he hadn’t slept overnight, his eyes were red rimmed and puffy and he was still in yesterday’s clothes. But talking to this guy seemed to be the quickest way to get rid of him, so he opened the door. Stepping into the doorway, he leaned against the doorpost, holding onto the door lightly at shoulder height with his other hand. “So - we’ve met. What do you want to talk about?” he asked, coldly. Despite the way he looked, his face was a haughty, emotionless mask - as though he were shopping in a high end store, rather than standing at the door of what amounted to his prison cell.
( Bitch face firmly in place: Check )
Setting: Kyle's room, 9am
The whole concept of being given a name of someone he had to go have a conversation with was really fucking stupid, but Brady wasn’t really interested in thumbing his nose at the Administration just yet. Eventually, maybe, but not quite yet. At least with the mood Kyle seemed to be, it was bound to be a short conversation. He was a little curious about what had him in pity party mode, as he knew that mindset very well, but he didn’t really care to have a heart to heart. He just wanted to get the whole thing done and over with. And so, when the clock hit nine, he left his room and went straight to room seven, hand lifting to give three firm knocks to the door.
Kyle had been expecting the call, but that didn’t mean that he had been at all looking forward to it. He didn’t want to see anyone today - no matter what certain people he knew here might have in mind. He looked and felt like a mess - he hadn’t slept overnight, his eyes were red rimmed and puffy and he was still in yesterday’s clothes. But talking to this guy seemed to be the quickest way to get rid of him, so he opened the door. Stepping into the doorway, he leaned against the doorpost, holding onto the door lightly at shoulder height with his other hand. “So - we’ve met. What do you want to talk about?” he asked, coldly. Despite the way he looked, his face was a haughty, emotionless mask - as though he were shopping in a high end store, rather than standing at the door of what amounted to his prison cell.
( Bitch face firmly in place: Check )