Rating: G
Fandom: None, original fiction.
Word Count: 300 words exactly.
Notes: This came to me after watching someone closely for much longer than they would probably have liked. I wish I could develop it beyond 300 words, but my imagination seems to have failed me. If you have any ideas, they would be more than welcome.
When Tobias committed himself to a movement, he really went all in. He didn’t just walk out of a room, he threw himself out. One upper body arc swinging with the full force of twelve cups of coffee. He’d rock himself back and propel himself forward. It was not an elegant way of getting from place to place. He was neither delicate nor graceful. There was something decidedly spidery about him, like he’d just cast a web and was travelling suspended on silk.
His use of his form often gave Tobias the appearance of being a highly-motivated, go-get-‘em, strong-willed kind of guy. To a degree this was not an inaccurate description. The only kicker was that Tobias chose his battles with the aid of a fine-toothed comb. He wouldn’t expend his time and energy on any proposed problem. He didn’t much care for politics, religion or philosophical debate. Tobias had decided from an early age that his beliefs were his beliefs and no-one could sway him, so what was the point of opening himself up to anyone’s diatribe? Of course, there were times when the war simply had to be fought. Had someone been using his hairbrush? What was an unopened can of fruit doing in the refrigerator? Why rain now?
When he really wanted to make a point, Tobias would sling an arm up in the air and bring it down again just as quickly, with all the vigour he could muster. He felt this really gave his conclusions emphasis. He’d widen his pale blue eyes and attempt to stare down his assailant. When it really came time to attack, he’d pull his shoulders back, move his feet wider apart and clench his fists. Tobias may not have had much dignity of style, but he sure could be impressive.