[In the most annoying way possible, D still doesn't react to a single sign of hostility Gen brings to him.
He does not look anywhere else when Gen turns his arm out of the way and leans in. Up close, through the lashes, his eyes swim a warm, muddy red. The arm may have been easy, but the rest of D is a solid mass of muscle which doesn't budge at all. His tenderness belies his quiet strength.
But he doesn't turn this against Gen, surprisingly. He's still calm and unafraid, maybe only slightly bothered by the quick ramp up to aggression.]
I would hate for the young boy to know someone thought what he made was trash.
[Close by Gen's ear, as if someone is leaning over his shoulder, a horribly croaky, old man's voice says snidely:] Should I give 'im a little nibble on the ear, D? [But D still doesn't react.]
no it's funnier this way
He does not look anywhere else when Gen turns his arm out of the way and leans in. Up close, through the lashes, his eyes swim a warm, muddy red. The arm may have been easy, but the rest of D is a solid mass of muscle which doesn't budge at all. His tenderness belies his quiet strength.
But he doesn't turn this against Gen, surprisingly. He's still calm and unafraid, maybe only slightly bothered by the quick ramp up to aggression.]
I would hate for the young boy to know someone thought what he made was trash.
[Close by Gen's ear, as if someone is leaning over his shoulder, a horribly croaky, old man's voice says snidely:] Should I give 'im a little nibble on the ear, D? [But D still doesn't react.]