@calebscatcorner This man looked harrowed, something like a person who hadn’t slept after hearing the news about their favorite elementary school teacher passed away in the night. His clothing reflected the wear and tear of a person who didn’t bother to change for days at a time - was that disorganization, or was that simply depression? His gaunt face suggested that he lacked motivation to eat, or at least absent-mindedness enough to forget it. Or perhaps it came from a place of poverty? His bearing sugested a manner of individual with a degree of trainign in their upbringing, but that didn’t mean they didn’t fall on harder times.
“An interesting one, don’t you think, Zach?” Tork touched his ear again, pointer and middle finger loightly pressing while the remainder curled towards his palm; the typical posture when he communicated with his eternal partner in un-crime. “Still, he carries a slightly sinister air. Even thoguh he looks unassuming, he reminds me of a person with a kind of darkness in their past. I should ask the coffee for any hints about this.”
Of course, by now his posture was drawing some attention. The man was looking sheepish, ready to slide out at any moment. So York did the most threatening thing he could do in this moment; lift his eyes and make direct eye contact.
