Mm. [ The sound is ambiguous, noncommittal. He can't say if that's true or not—his life lessons are his own, for the way he's chosen to move through the world, and no one else's—but he only continues to skewer more cubes onto the pointed sticks. The work is mindless and serves as a sufficient distraction while he's killing time until the party finishes. Whenever that may be. Time doesn't truthfully pass in here in any consistent manner, but at least at Sam's place, the sun rises and sets as it should.
Though, that's. Hm. His eyebrows raise as pans tumble out of thin air. A beat. Then he looks away again, with the expression of a man who isn't here to ask unneeded questions. He's accepted everyone interacts with the Horizon in their own manner, and for the most part, he's glossed over the strangeness that crops up around him, from the odd devices to bizarre creatures to...oceans inside crystals. Saves himself the headache. ]
Worse ways to leave this earth. [ There's faint amusement in his words. His assumption that the poor bastard Himeka assaulted with her frying pan obviously didn't live through it is thoughtless. He sets a few skewers aside on the plate. What. His? He tips his head. ] A sword. Nothing so unique as yours.
[ Some truth to that, even if his tone is a hint contemplative. He misses his damn sword. Both of them. He rarely goes so long without one in his hand, and his ability to summon it here in the Horizon isn't the same. He wants one out there. Where he actually needs it. End of the day, though, they're only swords. Forged according to his preferences and finely balanced, but not particularly special in any real sense. ]
no subject
Though, that's. Hm. His eyebrows raise as pans tumble out of thin air. A beat. Then he looks away again, with the expression of a man who isn't here to ask unneeded questions. He's accepted everyone interacts with the Horizon in their own manner, and for the most part, he's glossed over the strangeness that crops up around him, from the odd devices to bizarre creatures to...oceans inside crystals. Saves himself the headache. ]
Worse ways to leave this earth. [ There's faint amusement in his words. His assumption that the poor bastard Himeka assaulted with her frying pan obviously didn't live through it is thoughtless. He sets a few skewers aside on the plate. What. His? He tips his head. ] A sword. Nothing so unique as yours.
[ Some truth to that, even if his tone is a hint contemplative. He misses his damn sword. Both of them. He rarely goes so long without one in his hand, and his ability to summon it here in the Horizon isn't the same. He wants one out there. Where he actually needs it. End of the day, though, they're only swords. Forged according to his preferences and finely balanced, but not particularly special in any real sense. ]
Armoured men are not often my concern, though.