[The glare lingers, flat and hateful. Rinzler doesn't. Clu isn't here, so he doesn't have to. But it's far too easy to call another signature to mind, face and voice and source twisted with disapproval. Noise stutters audibly harsh and uneven, and Rinzler's fingers curl halfway to a fist at either side. It takes effort not to turn away.
He wants to move. To fight. To do anything but pace and glitch inside the cell. But there's no way out, nothing to fight, and in his current shape he'd probably derezz if there were. Right now, Rinzler's having trouble seeing the loss there. But if the user's words aren't anything he wants to listen to, at least they offer a distraction.
...of a sort. The enforcer's stare draws out, and the eventual slight tilt of the mask is more suspicious than anything. Why does it want to know?]
no subject
He wants to move. To fight. To do anything but pace and glitch inside the cell. But there's no way out, nothing to fight, and in his current shape he'd probably derezz if there were. Right now, Rinzler's having trouble seeing the loss there. But if the user's words aren't anything he wants to listen to, at least they offer a distraction.
...of a sort. The enforcer's stare draws out, and the eventual slight tilt of the mask is more suspicious than anything. Why does it want to know?]