Dominique certainly isn't alone in the camp of 'made it through the door, but have no intention of making their way into the fray.' This distance is almost too close to the whole thing as it is.
Julian lifts his head from where he's hunched over a neighboring table, looking like someone contemplating a particularly complicated equation, and glances in her direction. "A question," he says, and it's quiet enough - polite enough, too - that it almost certainly doesn't need to be answered if she isn't inclined. "What do you think is the most casual arrangement of dots?"
Dom looks up at Julian, ponders for a moment, then speaks with soft certainty. "In a line. It's expected. Sort of artless. But no one's going to think about it very hard."
Then the nervous itch of talking aloud to a semi-stranger catches up to her -- she can't quite remember this person's name, though his face is familiar -- and she swallows, self-conscious.
"I mean. That's- That's how it's casual. To me. Since it's easy."
There's something about the certainty of her voice that has him nodding along. She's good at it, up until she isn't - not that it's too noticeable when she isn't. Or that the part where she isn't is in any way to blame for how his marker hovers, then pulls back, caught up in his fist as he taps the butt of it to his chin. "Not too obvious?"
Julian's head tilts, looking at his display with his mouth twitched up into a frown. "You may be right. She would think I'd want to be done as soon as possible."
A more polite person would make any of these statements more decipherable to company.
Dom blinks several times. Down on her upturned wrist, Robert sticks his little face out. He too is blinking.
"Um," she says.
She turns away, then back again, then down. "Er," she attempts, seizing on the crossword as a means of human response. "Do you know of a seven letter word for a tree of the laurel family? It starts with an A."
Julian tips his head again, the other way and then back, before he nods decisively. "Fair enough." He jabs the marker in a straight line down the left side of the paper and drops it. "She's going to call me out on it anyway."
Then he glances upward and quite visibly realizes that he's being weird. Or at least he blinks a bunch himself and scrubs a hand over his mouth in a way that doesn't scream cool, collected, or particularly confident.
He lifts a hand, ticks the letters off on his fingers . "A-c-a-c-i-a. That's six. So. No. Um. You have any letters?"
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henhursthall2021-02-11 08:04 pm
AROUND MEAT SWEATS: Dom + Julian
Julian lifts his head from where he's hunched over a neighboring table, looking like someone contemplating a particularly complicated equation, and glances in her direction. "A question," he says, and it's quiet enough - polite enough, too - that it almost certainly doesn't need to be answered if she isn't inclined. "What do you think is the most casual arrangement of dots?"
AROUND MEAT SWEATS: Dom + Julian
Then the nervous itch of talking aloud to a semi-stranger catches up to her -- she can't quite remember this person's name, though his face is familiar -- and she swallows, self-conscious.
"I mean. That's- That's how it's casual. To me. Since it's easy."
AROUND MEAT SWEATS: Dom + Julian
Julian's head tilts, looking at his display with his mouth twitched up into a frown. "You may be right. She would think I'd want to be done as soon as possible."
A more polite person would make any of these statements more decipherable to company.
AROUND MEAT SWEATS: Dom + Julian
Dom blinks several times. Down on her upturned wrist, Robert sticks his little face out. He too is blinking.
"Um," she says.
She turns away, then back again, then down. "Er," she attempts, seizing on the crossword as a means of human response. "Do you know of a seven letter word for a tree of the laurel family? It starts with an A."
AROUND MEAT SWEATS: Dom + Julian
Then he glances upward and quite visibly realizes that he's being weird. Or at least he blinks a bunch himself and scrubs a hand over his mouth in a way that doesn't scream cool, collected, or particularly confident.
He lifts a hand, ticks the letters off on his fingers . "A-c-a-c-i-a. That's six. So. No. Um. You have any letters?"