[ Sarge. It's like he's in god damn Oz or something.
He leads the way, gently tugging the partition open, slipping through to stacked chairs and a clean, long table. He hovers near it like it has its own gravitational field, like somehow pressing a hip against the lip of it will help stabilize him in any real capacity.
Before they even start — his mouth opens up, runs away with him as it sometimes does in the form of short deadpan bursts. ]
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.
[ As a fair warning. Maybe it's the slowness of his speech or the lack of inflection that makes it a little humorous, but it's pure blunt incredulity dulled down and muted. ]
no subject
He leads the way, gently tugging the partition open, slipping through to stacked chairs and a clean, long table. He hovers near it like it has its own gravitational field, like somehow pressing a hip against the lip of it will help stabilize him in any real capacity.
Before they even start — his mouth opens up, runs away with him as it sometimes does in the form of short deadpan bursts. ]
I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.
[ As a fair warning. Maybe it's the slowness of his speech or the lack of inflection that makes it a little humorous, but it's pure blunt incredulity dulled down and muted. ]