[ For someone who's having to adjust the way he looks at things, Mikazuki's gaze steadies on him, even if half of its intelligent light has seemingly gone out. Mikazuki either doesn't realize, or, more likely, isn't immediately bothered by it. Consequences follow a line without many leaps or deviations for him. If he does something, something else will happen. It's not often that he goes in blind, but it was take the instinctive risk or lose. Losing meant losing everything, and there's a reason Mikazuki balances well against Orga in a game of chance. Leveling it on Eugene is meant as a measure of comfort, an unspoken It's fine. It's strange for him to be looked after and not upon, strange to be placed in a spot that's different from how he's supposed to be.
More than the physicality of his fight, Mikazuki faces off with the bone-deep rattle of where it's put him. Not behind, and not forward. Just different. He doesn't crane back at the intrusion of the juice box in disagreement, doesn't nod in agreement either. There's just the stillness of thought that settles opposite of Eugene on the spectrum.
Is he frustrated? ]
Mm. I'm bored.
[ That's something he can say, not so much an admission as a vital truth. A fact for a fact. He leans forward to touch his lips to the straw, taking a sip of the juice. It's a pop of sweetness that has him making a quick face, though the expression there isn't readable. ]
Until we're ready to go back to Mars, what I can do is...
[ Looking for the words, he comes up with an implied not enough. Normally, this would be a conversation for Orga. But Orga isn't as good at keeping him settled, at not igniting him in some manner. Be better. He can, and they both know it.
That's probably why this is so charged, fundamentally skewed. ]
no subject
More than the physicality of his fight, Mikazuki faces off with the bone-deep rattle of where it's put him. Not behind, and not forward. Just different. He doesn't crane back at the intrusion of the juice box in disagreement, doesn't nod in agreement either. There's just the stillness of thought that settles opposite of Eugene on the spectrum.
Is he frustrated? ]
Mm. I'm bored.
[ That's something he can say, not so much an admission as a vital truth. A fact for a fact. He leans forward to touch his lips to the straw, taking a sip of the juice. It's a pop of sweetness that has him making a quick face, though the expression there isn't readable. ]
Until we're ready to go back to Mars, what I can do is...
[ Looking for the words, he comes up with an implied not enough. Normally, this would be a conversation for Orga. But Orga isn't as good at keeping him settled, at not igniting him in some manner. Be better. He can, and they both know it.
That's probably why this is so charged, fundamentally skewed. ]
It's strange.