[But after a moment, he sighs a breath and taps his finger on the first picture that he notes on the menu. Just some sandwich or something — it all looks good, but he's made it a point in life not to assume he's getting to eat until the food is right in front of him. The reason might be more obvious the longer Dylan is able to study him, like a bug under a scope: his scarf doesn't hide the gauntness of his neck, of his cheekbones. Max has always been more broad in stature — Dylan would know, being around Eddie, anyway — but this version? Seems underfed.
Wherever he came from, he's certainly spent some time being hungry. Hungry and under threat of something, judging by the scars scattered across his hands, his scalp, his cheekbone. The bristles of his stubble are golden blonde from being sun-bleached.
... Many differences in a familiar face. A face that stares at Dylan skeptically.]
Your food isn't rationed yet. Would make stockpiles, if I were you.
no subject
Pick something.
[But after a moment, he sighs a breath and taps his finger on the first picture that he notes on the menu. Just some sandwich or something — it all looks good, but he's made it a point in life not to assume he's getting to eat until the food is right in front of him. The reason might be more obvious the longer Dylan is able to study him, like a bug under a scope: his scarf doesn't hide the gauntness of his neck, of his cheekbones. Max has always been more broad in stature — Dylan would know, being around Eddie, anyway — but this version? Seems underfed.
Wherever he came from, he's certainly spent some time being hungry. Hungry and under threat of something, judging by the scars scattered across his hands, his scalp, his cheekbone. The bristles of his stubble are golden blonde from being sun-bleached.
... Many differences in a familiar face. A face that stares at Dylan skeptically.]
Your food isn't rationed yet. Would make stockpiles, if I were you.