[ Ryo looks like he wants to add something midway through the man's admittance, but he stops himself on the next thread of thought. Does he have somewhere to be? Of course he does, but getting from here to there is so far an impossibility.
He's slow to follow the request to look, but when he does there's something about the way he pays him mind that's heavy and unrelenting. He narrows his eyes minutely, a small give that the man had struck some kind of nerve, but — ]
Don't we all? [ he says after a moment, taking the cigarette from his lips with his other hand. The question has an light edge, like one adjusting the handle of a knife in their grip. Still, Ryo offers with a sudden shift into sobriety: ] But, I can find them.
[ Ryo follows the turn of his shoulder, takes even and quiet steps to join him. He crosses into the man's space with some expectation that he'll nudge aside to let him look through the system for the song he's thinking of, his eyes flitting back to him occasionally. They're more alert than they should be in a person his age, twice as calculating. It's an easy read that Ryo doesn't put trust in anyone.
It takes him a moment's worth of tinkering, but he manages. The song is low in quality, but the beat is still clear. Satisfied enough, he'll move on back out of the man's space again and maintain a respectable distance. His posture as he leans back against the neighboring hoverbike is more of a suggestion of comfort than it actually is. ] They were popular in the 60s and 70s, [ he adds, like an after thought. ]
no worries, no worries!
He's slow to follow the request to look, but when he does there's something about the way he pays him mind that's heavy and unrelenting. He narrows his eyes minutely, a small give that the man had struck some kind of nerve, but — ]
Don't we all? [ he says after a moment, taking the cigarette from his lips with his other hand. The question has an light edge, like one adjusting the handle of a knife in their grip. Still, Ryo offers with a sudden shift into sobriety: ] But, I can find them.
[ Ryo follows the turn of his shoulder, takes even and quiet steps to join him. He crosses into the man's space with some expectation that he'll nudge aside to let him look through the system for the song he's thinking of, his eyes flitting back to him occasionally. They're more alert than they should be in a person his age, twice as calculating. It's an easy read that Ryo doesn't put trust in anyone.
It takes him a moment's worth of tinkering, but he manages. The song is low in quality, but the beat is still clear. Satisfied enough, he'll move on back out of the man's space again and maintain a respectable distance. His posture as he leans back against the neighboring hoverbike is more of a suggestion of comfort than it actually is. ] They were popular in the 60s and 70s, [ he adds, like an after thought. ]