[He sits, placing the box in his lap, and takes off the top, met first with nothing of specific interest. Books, sandwiched between layers of folded clothes. Mostly white button-downs, his two khaki coats, his sweater vests. Two pairs of shoes. He hefts one of the books with a faint smile, setting it to his left. It's the locked book-safe he'd mentioned before-- disguised as a collection of Hegel's philosophies, because of course it is. The key is sewn into the innermost pocket of one of his coats, which he shuffles around and sets with the book after a moment. He hefts the box, standing and setting it on the couch in favor of taking the items out of it to lay across the table after all, in some odd sort of organization that appears to be "things that I own" and "things that matter", because it's mostly just a pile stacked up in front of a small, worn leather book and a folding picture frame.]
[The frame stays folded, and the book stays closed, and he keeps them both as well out of Akira's line of sight as he can manage, pausing to drink some of his coffee. He waves a hand in front of the mess of items, scrunching his face and sniffing-- everything is dusty.] It's not that I'm surprised that things collect dust over two months' time, it's that I'm annoyed.
no subject
[He sits, placing the box in his lap, and takes off the top, met first with nothing of specific interest. Books, sandwiched between layers of folded clothes. Mostly white button-downs, his two khaki coats, his sweater vests. Two pairs of shoes. He hefts one of the books with a faint smile, setting it to his left. It's the locked book-safe he'd mentioned before-- disguised as a collection of Hegel's philosophies, because of course it is. The key is sewn into the innermost pocket of one of his coats, which he shuffles around and sets with the book after a moment. He hefts the box, standing and setting it on the couch in favor of taking the items out of it to lay across the table after all, in some odd sort of organization that appears to be "things that I own" and "things that matter", because it's mostly just a pile stacked up in front of a small, worn leather book and a folding picture frame.]
[The frame stays folded, and the book stays closed, and he keeps them both as well out of Akira's line of sight as he can manage, pausing to drink some of his coffee. He waves a hand in front of the mess of items, scrunching his face and sniffing-- everything is dusty.] It's not that I'm surprised that things collect dust over two months' time, it's that I'm annoyed.