[ Vicious, unforgiving audio clicks on and there's the echo of footsteps, the kind of doubling effect that large glass lobbies imply and afford. There's the vague sound of shifting, maybe a coat or a bag or just someone turning in a direction. Then the footsteps come to an audible stop. ]
"Hey." [ This, from
elevatorkick. ]
"Hey." [ And this, from
overreached, and the
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Comments 139
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This is on the network, isn't it.
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It's a curse. [ His tone doesn't get any flatter than this. ]
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...No, I didn't mean to- [ Arthur's gaze fixes on something on the ceiling. ]
Ah.
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Again, sorry. Reflex.
[ The tension evident in the man's posture implies the kind of control Lightning recognizes because she's seen it plenty of times before, in the ranks and out of them. This particular situation is just...not that though.
A sound escapes her, something not a word, something like tch. ]
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It's fine. Just a scratch.
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Pinching the bridge of her nose, she scowls before eying the split lip the way a person scrutinizes a crack in a windowpane. ]
Yeah, well. Do you [ this is going to come out wrong no matter how she phrases it she's sure ] want it fixed? [ ...best she could do. ]
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