Standing back up, Dirk tips his head back a bit to regard Solus behind him. His expression--stoic, with the kind of unfeeling, unemotive blankness that's less an 'expression' and more 'where expression goes to die'--doesn't change at all.
"I'll hold you to that." While deadpan, his voice is less a total eclipse of affect than his face is. It could be, if he wanted. That's not the first impression he wanted to make, though--and it'd be too late for that now anyway.
He only half turns, spinning the cane in one hand to plant the top length of its shaft firmly against Solus' palm.
no subject
Standing back up, Dirk tips his head back a bit to regard Solus behind him. His expression--stoic, with the kind of unfeeling, unemotive blankness that's less an 'expression' and more 'where expression goes to die'--doesn't change at all.
"I'll hold you to that." While deadpan, his voice is less a total eclipse of affect than his face is. It could be, if he wanted. That's not the first impression he wanted to make, though--and it'd be too late for that now anyway.
He only half turns, spinning the cane in one hand to plant the top length of its shaft firmly against Solus' palm.