[ midnight laughs. the edge of hysteria is tempered by the way he looks as he does so in the light - dark hair spilling into murk, the softening of the long, lean lines of his face into something like elation-made-motion. this midnight is different than the midnight kaveh has been speaking to. this midnight is the same as the midnight kaveh has been speaking to. it's a matter of perspective. vision, alhaitham had once told him, begins not in the eyes, but in the brain. and kaveh - what he is thinking, is that midnight's eyes hadn't been red after all. they are pink.

kaveh's judgment wars with the scowl of something like abject exasperation. it is tempered, only, by the knowledge that it's a stake not worth fighting, mirth in a situation as ridiculous as it is funny. ]

Given how our two meetings thus far have involved you and some manner of crime, what am I supposed to believe? [ is what he says, light and quick. ] Are you planning on carting a chandelier around as you look for a place to roost? What manner of new workout is this? At least have a warehouse for your things! And where have you been sleeping all this time?