( marc doesn't think she's weird. it doesn't even occur to him — despite the mundanity of her answers in the face of relative absurdity — to think that's something she's concerned about because marc is wholly, entirely used to objectively weird and strange situations and people.
it's complicated, and the utterance hangs between them, marc unsure and undecided on how he wants to take that. it's about more than us. marc's used to that, too, but—
but.
it's difficult to ignore the tight, cold coil of anxiety in the pit of his stomach that whispers names at him: marlene, jean-paul, gena. if his world's gone, are they gone too? or are they here, somewhere beneath the tree still or are they wherever lottie's taking him? they'd been there with him, in the hospital or in his mind, he's not sure which, but they'd been there and now he's here with lottie. )
Fine. ( abruptly, almost disinterestedly, as if he's made a decision that none of what lottie's said really matters right now. it's a tense, forced 'whatever' in all but phrasing.
he looks beyond her again, and then back over his shoulder at where they've come from making no indication as to whether he's looking for something or simply weighing things up in his mind, regardless of how much he wants to stand there and call out for khonshu, demand (beg) for his attention because he was supposed to tell marc what to do, for fuck's sake—. )
How long until we get to ( what had she called it? ) —Highstorm?
no subject
it's complicated, and the utterance hangs between them, marc unsure and undecided on how he wants to take that. it's about more than us. marc's used to that, too, but—
but.
it's difficult to ignore the tight, cold coil of anxiety in the pit of his stomach that whispers names at him: marlene, jean-paul, gena. if his world's gone, are they gone too? or are they here, somewhere beneath the tree still or are they wherever lottie's taking him? they'd been there with him, in the hospital or in his mind, he's not sure which, but they'd been there and now he's here with lottie. )
Fine. ( abruptly, almost disinterestedly, as if he's made a decision that none of what lottie's said really matters right now. it's a tense, forced 'whatever' in all but phrasing.
he looks beyond her again, and then back over his shoulder at where they've come from making no indication as to whether he's looking for something or simply weighing things up in his mind, regardless of how much he wants to stand there and call out for khonshu, demand (beg) for his attention because he was supposed to tell marc what to do, for fuck's sake—. )
How long until we get to ( what had she called it? ) —Highstorm?