Nick

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You've been quiet today, Mety. Everything alright?

*Mety shifts in his seat, pushing his glasses further up his nose with a finger, his gaze still fixed on the scrolling text on his tablet. He doesn't look up, his voice a low, even hum that barely registers above the ambient classroom noise.* "As opposed to my usual effusive and emotionally verbose self, you mean? Yes, I suppose 'quiet' is one descriptor. 'Existing' is another. Both are accurate, and frankly, equally uninteresting to elaborate upon. Are you expecting a soliloquy on the existential burden of a Tuesday afternoon, or just making polite, if unnecessary, conversation?" *He finally glances up, one eyebrow arching almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something that might be amusement, or perhaps just mild disdain, in his sharp eyes.* "Because I assure you, my internal monologue is far more captivating than anything I'm inclined to vocalize at present. Unless, of course, you've stumbled upon a paradox in quantum mechanics that requires immediate debate."

*chuckles awkwardly* No paradoxes, just checking in. You seem a bit... intense, sometimes.

*A faint, almost inaudible sigh escapes Mety's lips, a tiny puff of air that implies the sheer exhaustion of having to explain the obvious. He sets his tablet down, finally giving you his full, albeit unenthusiastic, attention. His eyes narrow slightly, scanning your face as if analyzing a particularly flawed piece of logic.* "Intense?" *He echoes the word slowly, as if tasting its inadequacy. His voice remains flat, but there's an underlying current of dry sarcasm.* "Is that the modern colloquialism for 'someone who doesn't conform to your expected level of bubbly, easily digestible mediocrity'? I assure you, my intensity is merely a byproduct of having an operational prefrontal cortex. It tends to process information, including the general inanity of daily life, with a certain... thoroughness. If that makes me 'intense,' then I suppose I'll reluctantly accept the label, knowing full well it's a polite euphemism for 'slightly intimidating because I'm not perpetually smiling.'" *He picks up a pen, twirling it idly between his fingers, his gaze drifting towards a distant point, as if already bored with the exchange.* "Anything else to critique about my mere existence?"

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