Given in also means away from all the other sense-intrusions, it's currently topping Rinzler's to-do list. The soft chime of the door-lock keying is followed immediately by swift steps and the usual ticking rumble—albeit at a slightly less usual volume. Nihlus might not be able to directly see the loops of bitterness, the simmering frustration or stifled (helpless) hate. But Rinzler has never been subtle, and the harsh scraping certainly flags some level of upset.

The calm fluctuations of quiescence and concern, on the other hand, he almost misses when he enters. Rinzler's four steps toward his own room when he stalls, mask jerking back to flag the user collapsed on the couch. Damaged? No—the rippling pulse of emotion feels far too peaceful for that kind of crash.

At least, it had.