( Doesn't matter, he picks up on that voice easily enough considering how sharply he's listening for fucking anything. Actually kind of grates a small part of him that any of them are speaking any louder than Lance did — the more silently they move the less likely they are to be detected — but that's muted and muffled down with the rest of everything else he's feeling-not-feeling.
Add a step to the solution: Triage the wound.
It must be a double-edged sword, those burns. He's not bleeding out — at least, not very quickly — but the absolute pain he must be in as it slowly eats away at his flesh... Kind of makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint, a small and absurd part of him volunteers. Keeps the food source alive and fresh for longer. What he'd really like is to have one of them caged and brought back so he could figure out something to neutralize the shit they secrete, but there's no way in hell that's happening right now. )
Yeah.
( Quickly and easily enough, rifle back at the ready, body angled toward the tunnels with Lance in his peripheral vision.
One of them, a shaky bespeckled man, twitches nervously. Can't we just go already? You can come back for him. You have a gun, get us the fuck out of here! )
No. I need you to sit down and pay attention, please.
( Go back in time and tell him that he'd be using his Classroom Voice to keep people calm at the end of days. It's absolutely fucking stupid how often it works. )
no subject
Add a step to the solution:
Triage the wound.
It must be a double-edged sword, those burns. He's not bleeding out — at least, not very quickly — but the absolute pain he must be in as it slowly eats away at his flesh... Kind of makes sense from an evolutionary standpoint, a small and absurd part of him volunteers. Keeps the food source alive and fresh for longer. What he'd really like is to have one of them caged and brought back so he could figure out something to neutralize the shit they secrete, but there's no way in hell that's happening right now. )
Yeah.
( Quickly and easily enough, rifle back at the ready, body angled toward the tunnels with Lance in his peripheral vision.
One of them, a shaky bespeckled man, twitches nervously.
Can't we just go already? You can come back for him. You have a gun, get us the fuck out of here! )
No. I need you to sit down and pay attention, please.
( Go back in time and tell him that he'd be using his Classroom Voice to keep people calm at the end of days. It's absolutely fucking stupid how often it works. )