[He is lucky she's here. 'Lucky' doesn't even begin to describe it, really. His experience with 'pretending to be someone he's not' begins and ends with falling into piracy after getting pressganged into military service. He'd felt very out of place for most of his life, but there's that, and then there's this artifice on pain of death. There's telling lies, then there's selling them in-- literally, a costume.
He settles a little, under the soothing touch of her tiny fingers. Breathe in, breathe out. He manages to get a smile on his face for her saucy joke. Sincere, of course. He thinks she's hilarious.]
All right. [He measures his steps steadily beside her, comforting himself with the familiar scent of her hair. She's so helpfully tiny. Like right at nose height.] It seems we're headed for the central generator. Should we break off before then, or go with the pack?
no subject
He settles a little, under the soothing touch of her tiny fingers. Breathe in, breathe out. He manages to get a smile on his face for her saucy joke. Sincere, of course. He thinks she's hilarious.]
All right. [He measures his steps steadily beside her, comforting himself with the familiar scent of her hair. She's so helpfully tiny. Like right at nose height.] It seems we're headed for the central generator. Should we break off before then, or go with the pack?