[More snack-flinging ensues, sent flying by some hidden force, though he has to give some credit to the second man, redirecting it at the first's forehead instead. Even so, it's far from the quiet night of reading he had hoped for, especially after spending all day wandering the event they've all been forced to endure, some pretense at peace in which people still strain at each other with insincere smiles on their faces, some not mingling with other factions at all. Peace, indeed.
All-in-all, he's tired. He would like to rest.]
You want me to participate in whatever game you're playing now?
[Because he knows what "trying one" probably means: involving himself in their brand of being social. Stephen flips a page. He'll hurt his eyes if he wants to, thank you very much.]
Believe me, you don't want that.
[He will make shelled nuts rain on their heads. The idea is tempting, though he pushes it aside.]
no subject
All-in-all, he's tired. He would like to rest.]
You want me to participate in whatever game you're playing now?
[Because he knows what "trying one" probably means: involving himself in their brand of being social. Stephen flips a page. He'll hurt his eyes if he wants to, thank you very much.]
Believe me, you don't want that.
[He will make shelled nuts rain on their heads. The idea is tempting, though he pushes it aside.]