Two months ago, Richard Dickerson had the look of a street cat who’d bitten out half its fur: raw and lean, manic, too bright in the eyes.
Today the motion of him drawing the opposite chair back and settling into it is smooth; he leans to rest his satchel against one of the table’s legs. He’s neatly groomed, vest and coat pressed. His expression is mild, neutral, glad for the offer of ale. Set affect to: human man.
Richard draws the near tankard in, and something warm nudges under the ankle of Ellis’ boot.
“I’ll see how this treats me,” he says, and drinks. “Thank you.”
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Date: 2021-04-28 08:23 pm (UTC)Today the motion of him drawing the opposite chair back and settling into it is smooth; he leans to rest his satchel against one of the table’s legs. He’s neatly groomed, vest and coat pressed. His expression is mild, neutral, glad for the offer of ale. Set affect to: human man.
Richard draws the near tankard in, and something warm nudges under the ankle of Ellis’ boot.
“I’ll see how this treats me,” he says, and drinks. “Thank you.”