"Yeah. You're stuck with me, Shepard, sad to say. But someone's got to make you look good."
There it is. The wry, dry sense of humor. Thrown in to try and lighten the bleaker moments. The harsher ones - where they have to confront or discuss things neither of them really want to think about. Someone has to make sure the weight of the world isn't smothering her. Much as he can, anyway, while they're stuck here, and not fighting a damn war for survival.
Not that she needs any help in the looking good department, if you asked him. Even dusty and exhausted. Lifting buildings with your brain? I guess that's a thing now.
He scoffs, his mandibles flaring down into a grimace. "Dark, no. Tripping over something, landing in a pile of rubble because I can't see my own feet? More so."
no subject
There it is. The wry, dry sense of humor. Thrown in to try and lighten the bleaker moments. The harsher ones - where they have to confront or discuss things neither of them really want to think about. Someone has to make sure the weight of the world isn't smothering her. Much as he can, anyway, while they're stuck here, and not fighting a damn war for survival.
Not that she needs any help in the looking good department, if you asked him. Even dusty and exhausted. Lifting buildings with your brain? I guess that's a thing now.
He scoffs, his mandibles flaring down into a grimace. "Dark, no. Tripping over something, landing in a pile of rubble because I can't see my own feet? More so."