[ Out in that blur there's Simon, foggy-headed and adrift in a garish sweater and looking for Kieren out of habit, not lucky coincidence. Or unlucky coincidence, maybe. Maybe Kieren had the situation in hand, maybe Kieren can take care of himself, maybe a few more annoyed but coherent sentences would have been enough to smooth things over without making more of a scene.
If so, sorry.
Simon doesn't say anything, coherent or otherwise. If months of relative acceptance aboard the Tranquility ever did anything to soften the sharp edges of his instincts, that's undone in an instant. He isn't surprised or disappointed. He's just moving. He drops his injector kit—cased, probably not broken—somewhere along the way, so both hands are free. One to seize the stranger's balled fist, the other to grab at his shoulder and to wrench him backwards and twist away.
He's aiming for torque and a shove toward the opposite wall of lockers, to the extent he has an aim at all, with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed and enough anger to match any nobler protective impulse. He'd be willing to settle for putting himself between them, but leaving a bruise or two would be favorite. ]
abhorrent
If so, sorry.
Simon doesn't say anything, coherent or otherwise. If months of relative acceptance aboard the Tranquility ever did anything to soften the sharp edges of his instincts, that's undone in an instant. He isn't surprised or disappointed. He's just moving. He drops his injector kit—cased, probably not broken—somewhere along the way, so both hands are free. One to seize the stranger's balled fist, the other to grab at his shoulder and to wrench him backwards and twist away.
He's aiming for torque and a shove toward the opposite wall of lockers, to the extent he has an aim at all, with his jaw set and his eyes narrowed and enough anger to match any nobler protective impulse. He'd be willing to settle for putting himself between them, but leaving a bruise or two would be favorite. ]