[ @glitchedfuture | continued from ( x ). ]
SELF-POSSESSION AFLOOD IN the gates of this boy’s eyes – all things considered, Overhaul is rather pleased from the demeanor being brought out. An antsy disposition tends to repulse him for many reasons outside of sheer neuroticism, and despite that he tends to harbor the anxious far more often than he would prefer. The confidence of which radiates off of Monoma fascinates him – pools of thick, golden honey forming waves in his irises, pupils fixated upon the other, silently observing as he speaks ( and how pompously does he speak – nearly amusing at the fact, as if he is familiar with this room, familiar with him ).
“I’m sure of it,” arrives an even response, voice rolling from behind his mask in a monotone so smooth, yet so hollow; a tree carefully carved through and yet polished, scraped away of splinters and jags to feel as even as silk. Entwined fingers cease their idle tapping, instead shifting to steeple in front of him, cocking his head ( like a scavenger; vulture lurking above, all-seeing eyes careful, cautious, collective ) with incoming curiosity.
“You speak so boldly,” he notes, and despite the context he isn’t particularly upset – merely curious, as if waiting for the other’s next move; “for someone who doesn’t seem to be accustomed to the ways in which the underground works, no less this syndicate in specific, I’m a bit impressed.” Tilted head shifts, and like an animal it lolls to the opposite side. Prying. Intrigued. “You must be quite sure of yourself, hm?”
“—As expected; Yuuei kids tend to be that way, I’ve noticed. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing if it’s utilized correctly.” Parting laced fingers, a swipe of wrist offers a dismissive wave. Then a gentle command:
“Tell me why you’re here. Beyond mere recruitment, beyond aligning.”
