[Tate watches him with an equally studious look, staring unflinchingly into those baby blue eyes like he expects to see his own reflection inside Michael's pupils. It'd be stranger to hear this if he hadn't already been exposed to a year's worth of porter-met people, cannibals and false Gods. Hail, rain, control of other people? Interesting, but not the most remarkable shit around. Better than what Tate has, to some degree, though.]
Birds?
[Honing in on that, he blinks. Finishes his beer and sits forward to sit the bottle on the shoddy little thing they call a coffee table. He's sitting forward to stand up, going for another beer from the fridge. In the process of that, he glances back at Michael.]
no subject
Birds?
[Honing in on that, he blinks. Finishes his beer and sits forward to sit the bottle on the shoddy little thing they call a coffee table. He's sitting forward to stand up, going for another beer from the fridge. In the process of that, he glances back at Michael.]
You good on that beer or do you want another?