The silverware clicked together as a family of four gathered around the dining table, enjoying their fabulous gathering of different meals from different cultures.
Moriarty cut into his food and savored the rich flavors that filled his mouth.
He had a very indifferent expression on his face as he silently ate his food.
His parents and brother were also eating in silence, as if there were an invisible barrier separating them. It didn't seem like a family meal at all, but one shared by strangers.
Moriarty's father, a stern man with a distant gaze, seemed particularly distant and disengaged. He had gray hair with a few streaks of white, giving him a distinguished appearance.
He then wiped his mouth and turned his distant gaze towards Moriarty.
"102nd, you have disappointed me again."
Moriarty's knife stopped just inches away from his food, poised in mid-air, but then he slowly lowered it back to his plate.
