( God bless you, Lance Sweets, for not making him come up with some excuse to ditch out and get that drink himself. It's way less stressful if he doesn't have to bullshit, he doesn't have the bandwidth to do it as effortlessly as he usually does at the moment.
Instead, he just sighs out an agreeable and fatigued sound, nodding absently at this Very Good Plan.
Shield shed, coat inspected for burns — there's one minor patch of eaten-through cloth, but when he shrugs it off it doesn't seem to have made it down to the shirt sleeve. )
Nope, I'm-- I'm good.
( He has enough presence of mind and genuine concern to pause and scope Lance up and down for a similar assessment. )
no subject
Instead, he just sighs out an agreeable and fatigued sound, nodding absently at this Very Good Plan.
Shield shed, coat inspected for burns — there's one minor patch of eaten-through cloth, but when he shrugs it off it doesn't seem to have made it down to the shirt sleeve. )
Nope, I'm-- I'm good.
( He has enough presence of mind and genuine concern to pause and scope Lance up and down for a similar assessment. )
You? How's your ear?