( For a skinny guy with one leg, Jack's perhaps surprisingly sturdy. He pulls a good amount of Kyle's weight up, then tightens his hand on Kyle's forearm to make sure he's steady, stable. Only once he's sure does he start walking, slow partly for Kyle's sake and also... partly because he has a fake fucking leg, you know how it goes. )
I'm not, like, psychic. I don't know your whole life story, I just saw a glimpse.
no subject
I'm not, like, psychic. I don't know your whole life story, I just saw a glimpse.
( A beat, and then uncertainly: )
Your... honor? Father? Pope?
( He's kidding.
Mostly. )