[h2]Luke Schwarz -- Repeat Offender[/h2]

He blinked once. Twice. Very closely considered a third, in the completeness of his flummoxation. Caught in the cognitive dissonance between the complete nonsensicality of what she said and the complete seriousness of how she said it, something upstairs short-circuited. In fairness, however, this was both a natural reaction and one that to his credit, he was growing increasingly adept at suppressing.

As one who knows him might be able to guess, this was not the first time he'd heard weird things being discussed with utmost severity. In truth, it was almost just as much him being the subject that threw him off as it was the general oddness of the question.

[b]"Er... Run that by me one more time?"[/b] he asked politely, wishing for little more than confirmation as to the subject at hand. [b]"You're asking me about my hair?"[/b]

He'd heard brief mention of it moving in the past, but after two hours of staring straight into a mirror, he'd seen no sign of motion out of the ordinary when he tested it for himself. Having written further accusations off as people just not being familiar with natural ahoges and the physics they abided by, it was still nonetheless strange how every so often somebody'd ask him about it.

[i]What's with my family and these things, anyway?[/i]

Unable to comprehend his affliction of stylistic choices by a higher being's shameless theft of an established work, Luke's gray peepers found themselves staring back into Gratia's frigid pools of onyx.