The room explodes into noise the moment Hugh steps in, is the thing - they've been expecting him, expecting the both of them, and Hugh wades in like he's going to war. Squared shoulders, rising voice, shouldering his way past a couple of them to dive into the center of the maelstrom. The fuck do you think you're doing, Argyros and we have that other thing in containment but not this one? and Hugh's rising shove a cock in it, Kosovo, I'll have you know--
There's no violence. Cassius' presence seems to dissuade that, from the amount of looks he gets, all fleeting and halfway nervous. There's a woman barely out of her teens with SECURITY across her chest and an edgy, nervous look every time Cassius moves, fingers twitchy at her side, as if waiting for the excuse to dive for the hip holster. Hugh jabs a finger at her at one point, don't you goddamn dare, you little monster--
And then there's the one that settles at Cassius' side. Taller than Hugh, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail-bun-thing that can't be categorized fully as either, wearing a well-washed white coat starting to lose its color under the pressure of constant bleaching. A little tattered at the edges, now. He pulls his glasses off, polishes them on it as he leans in.
"Pretty crazy crowd, huh?" He goes to offer his hand, but realizes he's still got the glasses in that one. Stuffs them back on his face (they slide down the bridge of his nose immediately) and offers that hand with a little smile. "Dr. Singh. Just call me Singh. How's your stay been, Cassius?"
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The room explodes into noise the moment Hugh steps in, is the thing - they've been expecting him, expecting the both of them, and Hugh wades in like he's going to war. Squared shoulders, rising voice, shouldering his way past a couple of them to dive into the center of the maelstrom. The fuck do you think you're doing, Argyros and we have that other thing in containment but not this one? and Hugh's rising shove a cock in it, Kosovo, I'll have you know--
There's no violence. Cassius' presence seems to dissuade that, from the amount of looks he gets, all fleeting and halfway nervous. There's a woman barely out of her teens with SECURITY across her chest and an edgy, nervous look every time Cassius moves, fingers twitchy at her side, as if waiting for the excuse to dive for the hip holster. Hugh jabs a finger at her at one point, don't you goddamn dare, you little monster--
And then there's the one that settles at Cassius' side. Taller than Hugh, dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail-bun-thing that can't be categorized fully as either, wearing a well-washed white coat starting to lose its color under the pressure of constant bleaching. A little tattered at the edges, now. He pulls his glasses off, polishes them on it as he leans in.
"Pretty crazy crowd, huh?" He goes to offer his hand, but realizes he's still got the glasses in that one. Stuffs them back on his face (they slide down the bridge of his nose immediately) and offers that hand with a little smile. "Dr. Singh. Just call me Singh. How's your stay been, Cassius?"