[ Transitioning from man to cat and cat to man, all while in the clutches of Frankie, has left Amory in a piss poor mood. A poor mood compounded atop an already sour demeanor means dealing with him will be akin to stepping on a patch of pins. It's only darkened in shades as he's trudged home-- another day at work missed, another day demeaned, another day acting puppet to the deities. One would feel sorry for the drunken man who had slammed into him on the walk back.
Yet, as he steps out of the elevator, that anger fades into observation, shoulders tightening ramrod straight. He surveys the hallway, seeming to ignore the only tangible figure there. Not even a pause for the Doctor, though surely Amory has noticed him, as he's currently making a straight, brisk line to catch him at the door. Even if he's as sloppy as Eden is precise, he wouldn't miss that presence. ]
spill it out on the ragged floor / a thousand different versions of yourself
Yet, as he steps out of the elevator, that anger fades into observation, shoulders tightening ramrod straight. He surveys the hallway, seeming to ignore the only tangible figure there. Not even a pause for the Doctor, though surely Amory has noticed him, as he's currently making a straight, brisk line to catch him at the door. Even if he's as sloppy as Eden is precise, he wouldn't miss that presence. ]