(Untitled)

[fathers_cleric]

John Preston is in the bar.

He's been in the bar for a couple of days now, but this sort of in the bar...

The door's back for him You see.

And he's staring at it.

Drumming his hands on the desk rather loudly.

Chances are he'll apologize if the noise is getting on your nerves.
Maybe.

Today is not shaping up to be the best of days for the guy.

Comments

[dontlooklisten]

The drumming noise catches Whistler's attention. He's reading, and while usually that's an activity that doesn't call for much concentration, it's a very good article on marlin fishing off the coast of Bora Bora.

In, y'know, the Braille edition of what's basically supposed to be a photographic magazine. Playboy in Braille is not nearly as exciting as people might think.

Anyway, the point is- he looks up and over in the direction of the sound. "Something wrong over there?" he calls out.

[fathers_cleric]

The drumming continues.

Preston's in his "Cleric must not be distracted mode."

"No."

The drumming. She continues.

[dontlooklisten]

"Uh huh. In that case, could you do whatever it is you're doing somewhere else? I can't hear myself think," Whistler says tartly.

[fathers_cleric]

The drumming stops, ".....My apologies."

So this is grumpy!
Preston doesn't like it very much.

He tilts his head, "...You can hear yourself think? are you one of those..."

Pause pause.

If Whistler really does have superhearing he might be able to hear the gears turn in Preston's head.

"...It's a metaphor."
Hooray.