[ Predictable. Johnny grins, then he closes his eyes and tries to focus. The amusement tapers off, slowly easing into something else — a quiet buzz of thoughtfulness and indecision. There are a lot of options, and he never said the memories had to be completely personal. Still, the more intense the better, and there's a passing coldness as he sifts through the things he's got locked down. Not a wall, still; just the kind of ruthless disconnect that goes hand-in-hand with compartmentalization.
It's a sharp contrast to the slow swell of emotions that follow: confusion, hope, excitement. Anger, though the confusion's enough to hobble it at the gate. It's looking at the warrant with his brother's face on it for the first time and realizing D'av wasn't dead. Important, at the time. With distance, it's completely safe territory.
He opens his eyes a beat later, expression focused, curious. ] Anything?
[ There's a slight itch on the palm of his right hand. Easy to ignore, though it's getting more annoying by the second. Fitz will feel it mirrored on his, lost in the baseline discomfort of his wound — but building, slowly, the kind of itch that slowly creeps up into a distracting burn. ]
no subject
It's a sharp contrast to the slow swell of emotions that follow: confusion, hope, excitement. Anger, though the confusion's enough to hobble it at the gate. It's looking at the warrant with his brother's face on it for the first time and realizing D'av wasn't dead. Important, at the time. With distance, it's completely safe territory.
He opens his eyes a beat later, expression focused, curious. ] Anything?
[ There's a slight itch on the palm of his right hand. Easy to ignore, though it's getting more annoying by the second. Fitz will feel it mirrored on his, lost in the baseline discomfort of his wound — but building, slowly, the kind of itch that slowly creeps up into a distracting burn. ]