[Hm. He pretends to consider this, thumb to his chin as if to say, "thinking emoji". Then, he drops his hand and sticks one foot up, bent at the knee; his arms bend at two right angles as he leans forward. He's running. See? Now they're playing charades!]
[Easy peasy. He stretches his arms out wide in front of him. Big. He brings them back in and holds his palms a few inches away from each other. Small! See?]
[Sure is a finger motion all right. Aubrey’s just eyeing that a little bit.]
Uh, groups.
[Hmm.] Conformity or… independence? [“Uniqueness” or “individuality” probably would’ve been a better word, but she’s not a thesaurus. the American is showing]
[Aubrey’s not particularly observant, at the best of times; it’s just hard to ignore when his fingers are up and center. Splayed very nearly, but not quite, parallel.]
So… not yourself. [Not to pry, but like. The mystery deepens.]
["Open" or "closed", huh? Ren doesn't have to consider for long, really; the thing about being a closed book, however, is that he doesn't necessarily want to admit it.
[Still, he folds his hands closed.
[He gestures for her. He wants to know her answer too.]
[It takes some consideration. Used to be an easy open; then an easy closed; and these days, it’s…
[Well. Holding her hands mostly closed, but also kinda open, doesn’t exactly follow the rules. But neither does charades.]
[Speaking of, this next one’s abstract. First, a stiff motion, as if chopping something into very orderly pieces. Option 2, hands splayed like a chaotic little explosion.
[Probably not the easiest signals in the world to interpret. It’s a challenge…?]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
would you rather for @headhooligan
Guts or charm?
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[Hero would be so disappointed, but:] Guts.
Surface or substance?
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Substance.
Burger or ramen?
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[Then they agree. On both guts-substance, she figures; and on not following the would you rather premise.]
Burger.
Quick and easy or slow and patient?
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…What are you d—? [Oh.
[Ohhh.] Yeah? Try asking a question like that. [It’s a challenge.]
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[In response, hands up vertical, not outstretched. Y’know, like, medium. Neither. It depends, but that’s not a charades-friendly answer.]
[On which note…]
[On one hand: a “bla bla bla” motion; talking? Or, on the other, a finger to the lip—quiet.]
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[He gestures to her. Same question.]
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[Another “depends” answer, annoyingly. But for the purposes of a stranger in this game, the silent-chattering hand falls.]
[Next round, next round… ah, glasses. Not the most creative charade, but: a point to the eyes, or a cup to the ear?]
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[He taps his glasses twice.
[He holds up two fists, making a punching motion; then, he repeats the same "running" charade he used earlier.]
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[Fight or flight? Oh boy....
[Two fists are raised, but don’t echo the punch.]
[A nod back. Same question?]
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Thrill? Or rest?
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[Oh, they can talk again.] You know what? Thrill.
New or old?
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New.
Boys or girls?
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Girls. [do not perceive the ratio of her friend groups]
Groups or solo?
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Groups. [He holds up up four fingers on one hand, four on the other. It's worth noting that the pinky on his left hand is wiggling.]
You?
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[Sure is a finger motion all right. Aubrey’s just eyeing that a little bit.]
Uh, groups.
[Hmm.] Conformity or… independence? [“Uniqueness” or “individuality” probably would’ve been a better word, but she’s not a thesaurus.
the American is showing]no subject
Depends.
[He takes his glasses off and cleans them with his shirt.]
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[Game over, then…?]
That thing with your pinky. [She tries to mimic it; lacking the dexterity, a pointer finger wave will do instead.] What was that?
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Just thinking of someone.
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[Aubrey’s not particularly observant, at the best of times; it’s just hard to ignore when his fingers are up and center. Splayed very nearly, but not quite, parallel.]
So… not yourself. [Not to pry, but like. The mystery deepens.]
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[Not much for talking, is he? He did mime “quiet.”]
Standout kind of friend, huh?
bet u didn't expect angst
[Really, it's just that Ren's not sure Akechi ever considered them his friends.]
He was...["Was". He hates that word.]
A unique person.
no!! no I did not
[—Ah.]
I’m sorry.
I'm sailing my ship
[The grief is insurmountable, of course. "Friends" really doesn't describe them at all when Ren thinks about it.]
What's your name?
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[Right. Kinda skipped a few familiarity levels, there....]
Aubrey. [The only one anyone needs.] Yours?
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[Fistbump?]
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Ren. [Fistbump.] You’re pretty good at charades.
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Figured. Same for me.
[She tries, sometimes.] The charades were new, though. Want to try again?
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[Alright, let’s see… Hands fold together sideways, closed; then open like a book.]
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[Still, he folds his hands closed.
[He gestures for her. He wants to know her answer too.]
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[It takes some consideration. Used to be an easy open; then an easy closed; and these days, it’s…
[Well. Holding her hands mostly closed, but also kinda open, doesn’t exactly follow the rules. But neither does charades.]
[Speaking of, this next one’s abstract. First, a stiff motion, as if chopping something into very orderly pieces. Option 2, hands splayed like a chaotic little explosion.
[Probably not the easiest signals in the world to interpret. It’s a challenge…?]