Blinking once, then twice, at the nutritional supplement—bemused, yet, by the flurry of motion which had seen it briskly set upon his desk—Sion gives pause, setting the report in his hands momentarily aside before...! Shaking his head with a laugh, the sound airy and bright as it resonates throughout the office.
"I do not believe I have ever seen you move quite so fast," Sion confesses with a lofted brow, a smile playing upon his lips in his wonderment. Not only had Ryner executed a perfect drop off, but so too had the man returned to his repose upon the couch in record time, his brown eyes already drifted closed. Altogether, it is a commendable effort, one which is rewarded in kind when the Director reaches for the supplement, twisting the cap to break the seal with a satisfying snap, before drinking—not deeply, of course, but enough to see his friend mollified for fear of being sent to the infirmary otherwise. Being modified to better withstand the growing network of synthetic circuitry within his body is by far from the first thing on the Director's agenda, and he's every intention of keeping it as such.
Were he sent to the lab with only the best intentions of mind, there is no guarantee that when he returned he would be fit to continue on with his current projects (easing the visa checks upon Westerley's population, seeing to it that new Company recruits are trained to be compassionate, reducing the sentencing of those condemned to extract yttrium from the Company's mines), or even that he would be precisely himself.
To even suggest such a thing is rather uncharacteristic of his friend, as is returning from any mission without the words 'you demon, Sion Astal!!' falling from Ryner's lips. This thought is troubling, enough so that the Director gives pause in his nursing of the nutritional supplement (...it rather tastes like chalk, doesn't it?...), suddenly taken by concern for the other man. Had something gone awry during Ryner's visit to the outpost in the Badlands? What is it that has gone unsaid?
"Not to mention, you are rather demanding today." Where he is not unaccustomed to being scolded regarding his health, Ryner has foiled him at every turn today, leaving no room for a true reunion or exchange of stories.
Rising from his desk in an easy decision, his drink still in hand as he nears the sofa, perching himself atop its arm rest as he glances down at his friend. What is it that has you so dour today, Ryner...?
Gingerly, gently, willowed fingers reach to brush the fringe of Ryner's hair away from his eyes, carding through the darkly brown locks in a tender gesture, equal parts reassuring and apologetic.
"Could it be only that you missed me while you were away?"
no subject
"I do not believe I have ever seen you move quite so fast," Sion confesses with a lofted brow, a smile playing upon his lips in his wonderment. Not only had Ryner executed a perfect drop off, but so too had the man returned to his repose upon the couch in record time, his brown eyes already drifted closed. Altogether, it is a commendable effort, one which is rewarded in kind when the Director reaches for the supplement, twisting the cap to break the seal with a satisfying snap, before drinking—not deeply, of course, but enough to see his friend mollified for fear of being sent to the infirmary otherwise. Being modified to better withstand the growing network of synthetic circuitry within his body is by far from the first thing on the Director's agenda, and he's every intention of keeping it as such.
Were he sent to the lab with only the best intentions of mind, there is no guarantee that when he returned he would be fit to continue on with his current projects (easing the visa checks upon Westerley's population, seeing to it that new Company recruits are trained to be compassionate, reducing the sentencing of those condemned to extract yttrium from the Company's mines), or even that he would be precisely himself.
To even suggest such a thing is rather uncharacteristic of his friend, as is returning from any mission without the words 'you demon, Sion Astal!!' falling from Ryner's lips. This thought is troubling, enough so that the Director gives pause in his nursing of the nutritional supplement (...it rather tastes like chalk, doesn't it?...), suddenly taken by concern for the other man. Had something gone awry during Ryner's visit to the outpost in the Badlands? What is it that has gone unsaid?
"Not to mention, you are rather demanding today." Where he is not unaccustomed to being scolded regarding his health, Ryner has foiled him at every turn today, leaving no room for a true reunion or exchange of stories.
Rising from his desk in an easy decision, his drink still in hand as he nears the sofa, perching himself atop its arm rest as he glances down at his friend. What is it that has you so dour today, Ryner...?
Gingerly, gently, willowed fingers reach to brush the fringe of Ryner's hair away from his eyes, carding through the darkly brown locks in a tender gesture, equal parts reassuring and apologetic.
"Could it be only that you missed me while you were away?"