[This is the problem with letting Figaros up on couches. They start to sprawl and act like it's their couch, when it's not their couch, at least not while they have company over. Encouraging strange men who call themselves Figaro is a mistake, and that's something Gepard firmly reminds himself of as he peers at Figaro suspiciously, trying and failing to conceal the flinch of recognition as Figaro says overworking. He also tries to smother the frown that comes with takes a toll, turn it from something deeply uncomfortable (because he's not overworking, he's merely covering the slack, but sometimes slack-covering translates into overwork and he wants to sleep very badly) into something sternly annoyed (he's a guard captain, guard captains aren't known for their pleasant moods.)]
Well...
[The problem is that Gepard Landau isn't so far up his own ass he's not capable of self awareness: when a mirror is held up he can (usually) see himself in it, he thinks. (Maybe.) Figaro says takes a toll and Gepard shifts, deliberately putting himself slightly into Figaro's space. Slightly. Ever so slightly, because he's not stressed or anxious, he's not feeling...
...seen, by someone who's no doubt scheming things...
...he's fine. Perfectly fine. Totally comfortable. This is a conversation they both can have.]
We're short staffed. There's only so much I can do about that...but, I'll admit, you're not...
[Why is this so painful to admit, actually, he's not totally comfortable but he'll barrel through this conversation with the same conviction he used to punch Fragmentum monsters and stroll around Belobog at an hour too late, waiting for a thief who might never come.]
...entirely wrong. [Feels like he's given up way too much ground right then and there.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-04-13 04:36 pm (UTC)Well...
[The problem is that Gepard Landau isn't so far up his own ass he's not capable of self awareness: when a mirror is held up he can (usually) see himself in it, he thinks. (Maybe.) Figaro says takes a toll and Gepard shifts, deliberately putting himself slightly into Figaro's space. Slightly. Ever so slightly, because he's not stressed or anxious, he's not feeling...
...seen, by someone who's no doubt scheming things...
...he's fine. Perfectly fine. Totally comfortable. This is a conversation they both can have.]
We're short staffed. There's only so much I can do about that...but, I'll admit, you're not...
[Why is this so painful to admit, actually, he's not totally comfortable but he'll barrel through this conversation with the same conviction he used to punch Fragmentum monsters and stroll around Belobog at an hour too late, waiting for a thief who might never come.]
...entirely wrong. [Feels like he's given up way too much ground right then and there.]