Interrupted? He's not sure how. He's done nothing but sit in reverie and unwanted though, circling like a vulture high and ready to strike down. The wait is torturous. It would be easier if they just did whatever they came to do already.
He's not sure what he would do if he indeed saw an ambulance approach. Run perhaps? Flee out of lack of knowing what else to do. They might take his stitches out. They might make him talk.
He takes another drag from his unsteady smoke and realises Sigma is still there, talking to him. he listens, as intently as he can manage. He's talking of phi. Of payment due. Of, bafflingly, owing him and-- He blinks. He stares at Sigma, brows furrowing, the shrieking static of his head going into the background for just a moment. What? So speaks his expression for him. A shake of his head follows. I know not what you mean. You owe nothing, sir.
He's just a... well, not even a stylist beyond the propaganda. He thinks back to the earlier incident with Sigma and near shrugs his shoulders. Phi was safe. That was all that had mattered really. Meulin is no longer here to disrespect. That thought is what makes him stop. He digs about his jacket for pen and paper, finding it a miracle if he's got it. He means to write something else, really, but what ends up on paper is; MEULIN IS MISSING. I HAVE LOST HER.
no subject
He's not sure what he would do if he indeed saw an ambulance approach. Run perhaps? Flee out of lack of knowing what else to do. They might take his stitches out. They might make him talk.
He takes another drag from his unsteady smoke and realises Sigma is still there, talking to him. he listens, as intently as he can manage. He's talking of phi. Of payment due. Of, bafflingly, owing him and-- He blinks. He stares at Sigma, brows furrowing, the shrieking static of his head going into the background for just a moment. What? So speaks his expression for him. A shake of his head follows. I know not what you mean. You owe nothing, sir.
He's just a... well, not even a stylist beyond the propaganda. He thinks back to the earlier incident with Sigma and near shrugs his shoulders. Phi was safe. That was all that had mattered really. Meulin is no longer here to disrespect. That thought is what makes him stop. He digs about his jacket for pen and paper, finding it a miracle if he's got it. He means to write something else, really, but what ends up on paper is; MEULIN IS MISSING. I HAVE LOST HER.