✗ – it may not seem like he’s listening, but he is. half-heartedly.
a gloved thumb presses against the sharp end of the blade, steel-colored eyes examining a small nick that had become evident to him. (maintenance? .. . it’s not so bad.) if anything, it was more than worthwhile to him. when dealing with high quality, tempered steel – it was worth the care and attention. a silent mental note is all he takes before lowering it back down to his side & casting the man a side-long glance.
“takes longer, but it’s fine.” becoming a gunblade specialist wasn’t an easy task, by any means. otherwise, they’d be more commonly seen among the ranks.
THEY COULD END the conversation right there, couldn’t they. he’s always had gab enough to hold up both ends of a dialogue for as long as need be, but whether circumstantially or as a by-product of age, he’s a bit reserved now. laguna’s rather positive it’s the former curtailing him, his self-consciousness slated towards erring on the side of too little. corded arms fold over his chest in a loose wind, head nodding by degrees.
❛ the heft is kinda funny, ❜ ( he’s trying again, despite himself. he has to. ) ❛ i used a gunblade once, y’know. couldn’t figure how the heck i was supposed to hold it though — was nothin’ like what i was used to. sure gave me a good arm work out, i’ll tell ya! ❜
The important things are saved, and Xu sighs, yanking a wad of tissue out of the box of her own, dabbing at the files that didn’t quite avoid the Great Coffee Flood.
“It’s alright,” she says. “We have backup copies of all of these somewhere.”
She might have to send him her dry-cleaning bill, once she glances down at her blouse, now more brown than cream. Wonderful.
“Is there something I can actually help you with, President Loire?”
Thank goodness she keeps a spare uniform in her office closet; she’s going to need it.
❛ help me with — oh, yeah! yeah, definitely, man, i just got carried away between the excitement and the coffee and the coffee —— ❜
HE’S TRYING TO MAKE LIGHT of the situation, a chuckle fizzing out at the back of his mouth. it comes to an abrupt end when he clears his throat, palm worrying at the nape of his neck. he figures she’s growing tired of the piling absurdity.
❛ see, we’re trying to get the esthar garden approved, right, but we’re hitting a lot of snags along the way. one of the bigger concerns is the training area. like, i personally trust it’s safe, but since the lunar cry — you can understand why even a small concentration of monsters would worry people, yeah? ❜ ( he breathes out long and steady through his nose. ) ❛ so, i’m trying to figure out alternatives. virtual reality seems most promising, but d’you think that can substitute for actual field experience? ❜
she was assured during her briefing of one fact; that causing harm or permanent damage to the client was in no way permitted. she understands now the reason for such – -
after all, the manner in which her lips purse white, twitching towards the remnants of a frown speak much of her restraint. why was she sent to gather something that was incomplete ??
“…UNDERSTANDABLE.”
[ her deadpan stare says otherwise. ];
❛ ——uh, cool. cool. ❜
HE WITHERS SLIGHTLY under her tamed glower, fingers drumming quietly on the edge of his desk, mouth yet curved in a smile. he’d rather hoped squall was an outlier of his kind, the single taciturn seed among a legion of lively if deadly teens.
IT’S NO PROBLEM entertaining her company, he’s sure. some practice yakking with the younger generation can’t hurt. laguna gestures to a chair.
❛ take a seat if you want! i don’t have coffee breath, i promise. ❜
Forget about the past. It does not exist, except in your memory. Drop it. And stop worrying about how you’re going to get through tomorrow. Life is going on right here, right now — pay attention to that and all will be well. —Neale Donald Walsch
“Sad as hell. No wonder they’re such little shits. What you really gotta ask yourself is, ‘Why they feel like they gotta wear robes’? I’ll tell you why, because nobody benefits from a naked tonberry. Little green weenies hangin’ out. And they carry their little lanterns everyplace. No, I’ll tell you what happened, the first tonberry fella that burned his weiner said ‘That’s it!’ and got to weaving.”
“If you had to choose between gettin’ your junk burned and sewin’ without fingers, what would you choose?”
THIS GUY REALLY ASKS the hard questions. monster dicks aren’t exactly a topic on which laguna typically focuses his ponderings but there are first times for everything. that’s one off the bucket list.
❛ ——sewing without fingers, hands down. ❜ ( pun not intended? )
❛ y’know, i wonder if they’re all dudes. i mean, i’ve never seen a queen tonberry — have you? ❜
