A face my mother can finally love.
Genjiās head tilts, just-so, the movement barely perceptible - the joke did not escape them. It sounds like something he himself might have said, a few short years ago. As the two of them are little more than acquaintances, the only thing to do for the time being is to let it pass.
āPerhaps,ā they say, lightly, a smile in the modulated voice.Ā āA change could be good for me! But thenā¦ā Genji drops his hand to the table, drums metal fingers on it, and leans back.Ā They eye Wrench from behind the visor, watching the maskās expression.Ā
āI suppose I have come to think of this,ā they gesture to the visor, circling a hand over it, āas part of me, asā¦ my face. I am not sure if changing it is something I truly wish to do, even if the prospect of having an outward expression is tempting.ā
Conscious of it or not, he leans forward a few spare inches when they lean back, the maskās eyes widening in a display of interest.
His hands drop to the table with a smackĀ at Genjiās answer, mask flicking briefly to exclamation points before settling on an even widerĀ set of circles,Ā āRight?ā he says, probably a bitĀ too loudly to be polite.Ā āItās like--like--ā his excitement comes out as his hands tapping at the table, but every sentence that runs through his head seems too sappy to say out loud. So he just huffs instead, half in frustration and entirely in relief.Ā āYeah.ā
He sits up, rubbing his hands together briefly like heās trying to start a fire with the friction of them.Ā āBut--the way I see it, if you have a face that you can change why not change it to look super cool? Not that yours doesnāt already but, itās not like you have to throw thatĀ one away. Not like normal faces where you canāt get the old one back.ā
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