[ Alayne quickly falls into watchful silence, her blue eyes moving slowly back and forth between Chuck's gaze and Isaac's hands — the two points of contact that intrigue her most. If there was a secret to Ranger Hansen's suit, she has no doubt that he will discover it. By what magical alchemy of touch and inquisitiveness, Alayne could not rightly say, but she thinks if she watches hard enough maybe she'll learn. (He had taught her how to remove the plates of his own suit, how to find the latches with her fingers and how best not to get her skin caught in the catches. It had been a tedious process but one that, with time, she'd taught herself to master.
Chuck's suit, Alayne assumes, should prove no different.
Chuck should prove no different.)
The wariness that she'd been met with upon their first meeting is there couched in his gaze as the two men exchange back and forth about the armor. It's been so long since Alayne first crossed paths with the engineer that she no longer remembers what he had been like as a stranger — if he'd warranted suspicion at all beyond the usual tentativeness Alayne gave all strangers. Perhaps if she were left standing in a room with two people she barely knew, one of which poked and prodded at her, the other of which stared, she would feel just as wary.
(But she'd be better at pretending she didn't.)
At the word rachet, Alayne looks at Isaac to follow where precisely his gaze lands amongst the tools. When it finally rests on one, she moves to pick it up, the weight of it heavy in her hands as she holds it like a nurse awaiting a doctor's orders. ]
no subject
Chuck's suit, Alayne assumes, should prove no different.
Chuck should prove no different.)
The wariness that she'd been met with upon their first meeting is there couched in his gaze as the two men exchange back and forth about the armor. It's been so long since Alayne first crossed paths with the engineer that she no longer remembers what he had been like as a stranger — if he'd warranted suspicion at all beyond the usual tentativeness Alayne gave all strangers. Perhaps if she were left standing in a room with two people she barely knew, one of which poked and prodded at her, the other of which stared, she would feel just as wary.
(But she'd be better at pretending she didn't.)
At the word rachet, Alayne looks at Isaac to follow where precisely his gaze lands amongst the tools. When it finally rests on one, she moves to pick it up, the weight of it heavy in her hands as she holds it like a nurse awaiting a doctor's orders. ]